NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 50: Well at Least I’m Level 4
Erastil 3
The weak light of dawn peeked through the small bulkhead. The dawn revealed eight injured men and women laid out on the floor, sleeping fitfully. Overseeing it all was an exhausted Salyar. The men's quarters served as a makeshift clinic for the worst casualties of the first few attacks, many of whom were already feverish and developing a waxy complexion.
In the corner of the room, Sandara and I lay curled up in the safest available place to sleep. Technically we’d finally slept together, but I hadn’t been ballsy enough to blow off steam in those conditions. A full night’s sleep was a privilege few others on the ship could boast at a time like this, when enemies were knocking on the door. Nobody had dared to wake us, which was for the best. Thanks to the Body Control sphere, I was fully refreshed after only 6 hours.
Not quite as good as staying up all night with Keep Watch, but it’ll do in a pinch. Anyway, it’s level 4 Christmas. Time to open my presents. I get second level spells now!
Alas, the first metaphorical package I opened contained a sweater. I only received one second level spell known at level four, and just like with Keep Watch I was blessed with utility for my first level one spell. Create Treasure Map allowed me to take a sample of blood from a corpse and transform it into a map that reveals the most valuable thing they know about. It cost a staggering 100gp to cast, but if I chose my targets well I could expect an excellent return on investment. It wasn’t a bad spell by any means, but it was completely useless in my current situation.
Stretching the Christmas metaphor further, I’m more excited about the box than the actual present. I can cast four second level spells per day, but since my only second level spell is a niche utility spell I can burn those slots on summoning or shooting ice. Weirdly enough, my first level spell slots are worth more than the second level slots. Especially with the new first level spell I just got.
As a drow sorcerer, I received a bonus spell known at every level starting at 4. These spells were always taken from the edgiest spell books available; they were required to have the pain, curse, or evil descriptor. Naturally this meant that most of them weren’t actually very useful to someone attempting to maintain good PR. The one I got, however, was Infernal Healing. I’d seen Peppery Longfarthing use this spell once, and it allowed her to heal Sandara nearly a hundred points of HP while Plugg tortured her with fire.
Infernal healing gave someone fast healing 1 for one minute by infusing them with the blood of a devil. There were some potential corner cases, but in the overwhelming majority of the time that meant that they would regenerate 10hp over the course of ten rounds. It was a potent healing ability, though unpleasant for those with an overly moral or chaotic disposition like Sandara.
I don’t think healing 10 hp with a spell slot will ever become useless. More of an out of combat sort of healing, though.
The rest of my level up was minor. A few more hit points, another point of base attack bonus, and +1 to my will save. The auto-allocation decided I deserved a point in Knowledge (Planes) after all my summoning. This was a very good thing, because I needed to roll a 19 or higher to think of any level 4 outsiders to summon.
As I disentangled myself from Sandara and fixed my Chelish coat, Salyar walked up to me.
“What’s it like out there?” He whispered. “What are our chances?”
“If nothing changes? Not good.” I admitted. “We are outnumbered, badly, and if they can stop squabbling long enough to do a full scale assault we are fucked. We lost six people last night, and it would have been a lot worse if I hadn’t found Sosima.”
Salyar wrapped his arms tightly around himself.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” He asked, “I’m just a cook. It’s all I can do to keep everyone fed when the whole crew is on constant vigil like this.”
“You’ll know when I know.” I admitted quietly. “I’m doing my best to resist the urge to just leave. We have a safe house on the island, but there’s no way I can get everyone in the crew there without leaving the rest exposed.”
They prefer to attack at night, but they don’t have to. Caulky’s team ran out to get a few half rotted two by fours and the smaller ghoul packs harassed them the whole time. If I airlift the whole crew out of here one at a time, eventually the ghouls will decide that the ship is lightly defended enough to overrun. So. What do I summon?
Autopilot had furnished me with a handful of options when I asked for level 4 outsiders, mixed in with dozens of “I don’t know”s and “yes but it’s too strong for us to summon”s.
Alright. Shadow Chad, tiny dragon, trauma fey, guard dog of lost souls. Gotta figure out which one to go with first. Shame none of them can do the main utility job I need.
I could move up to a larger classification of air elemental, which I did immediately. None of my other options could carry a human across the island to Ivey’s refuge, and the infirmary was full of people who clearly had infections from ghoul bites. I needed these folks off the ship; I didn’t know enough about ghoul fever to know how dangerous they were. I trusted Syl, the doctor, to save them if they could be saved. I trusted Syl, the pragmatist, to put them down if they were too far gone.
“Hey, anyone here speak Auran?” I asked, strolling onto the deck and popping on my shades. “If anyone can, I’ll be able to call in extra backup for tonight.”
The exhausted men looked at me, then at each other, before heaving a collective sigh. The early light of dawn cast a sepia tone over the scene in my eyes.
“Mister M’Dair, what do you intend?” Plugg asked. “This is a ship. I am it’s captain. I expect to be informed by my subordinates before they act.”
Plugg had deep shadows under his eyes, evidence that he hadn’t slept since the first ghoul attack.
Shame you’re such a murderous prick. I could see myself working for you based on the dedication alone if you weren’t trying to kill me.
“Oh, easy.” I answered, looking him in the eyes. “First up, at least five of these fellows need to sleep for a few hours. You or Caulky should be among them. This is a siege, Plugg. Unless the carpenters are a couple hours away from making her seaworthy, the men need rest.”
The crew perked up at that, while Plugg scowled. Caulky’s eyes went wide, and she frantically started signaling for me to stop being insubordinate. I gave her a lazy smile, and shook my head.
“I intended to have the men sleep in shifts after breakfast.” Plugg snarled. “We obviously can’t afford to slacken our guard at night.”
“Jolly good, mate.” I said, “I knew you weren’t an idiot.”
Plugg swung his fist, burying his knuckles into my solar plexus. It knocked the wind out of me, leaving me unable to speak for a moment. The sucker punch counted as a combat, giving me time to think.
You have been punched for 5 nonlethal damage by someone without Improved Unarmed Strike. Would you like to make an opportunity attack?
No. I’d probably miss. Better to just take it like a champ. Autopilot, you can still snark, right?
I straightened, consciously breathing shallowly to hide my pain and shortness of breath. Once I had enough air to speak clearly, only a few seconds later, I responded.
“Sebastien. Think.” I said in a steady voice, loud enough for the whole crew to hear. “Who wins if we fight right now? The ghouls. You need me. I need you too, you rotting piece of slime. You’ve tried to kill me multiple times. Do you think a punch is going to convince me to roll over and show my belly? I’m trying to keep these lads alive, so I’m not going to play games right now. If you’re willing to put your own ego over the survival of the crew, tell me now. I’ll kill you, right here. Besmara’s tits, I’d be justified.”
The lapping waves splashed against the shore as the men heard my threat. No other sounds intruded. (Intimidate 20+11=Critical Success)
The crew of the Wormwood is Impressed with Emrys M’Dair.
Sebastien Plugg has gained the Shocked condition
Sebastien Plugg’s disposition has been temporarily set to “friendly?”
Caulky Tarroon has gained the Angry condition
Did you just challenge him to a fucking duel to the death? What if he’d taken us up on it? He just bitch slapped us for a third of our health! This is not the time!
“I see.” Plugg said, clasping his hands behind his back. “You have made your position quite clear. You have my permission to act independently in the defense of the ship. Do not get in my way.”
Sosima walked up behind Plugg and began rubbing his shoulders.
“Captain, I think your exertions have overtaxed you.” She said, pressing her breasts against his back and brushing her lips against his earlobe. “You should really get some sleep. I’m a trained masseuse; would you like to show me your room? I’d be happy to take care of you. It’s the least I can do.”
Sosima made eye contact with me as she spoke to Plugg, asking a question with her eyes. ‘Do you want me to kill this guy, Emrys? I can get him naked and face down with very little effort.’
(Bluff to communicate a secret message 6+11=17)
I shook my head slightly. I wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, but I couldn’t afford to throw away a powerful binder when more than a hundred ghouls still wanted to eat us. Sosima led Plugg away
“Well,” I said, trying to shift to a light and friendly tone. “I guess that’s that. You’re all sure no one can speak Auran? Damn. I’ll just need to call another Silvanshee.”
I did both rituals on the poop deck, in full view of the crew. Doing so provided me with a measure of protection, primarily from Caulky chewing me out. I had no desire to hear it right now, and she didn’t want to make Plugg look even worse by leaping to his defense in the middle of the crew.
Yeah, I’m baiting him a bit, but if he cooled his jets this whole conflict could be over in five minutes.
The silvanshee, like the last two, was more than willing to play interpreter for the sake of saving lives. She spoke with a casual, feminine voice that wouldn’t have sounded out of place coming from a cashier at McDonalds.
“I don’t need you to fight, though if you wanted to I wouldn’t complain.” I explained. “I just need the air elemental to ferry people back and forth from a cabin in the mountains. I can pay you a few gold pieces for the trouble? I don’t really know what you might want.”
“If you get off this island, find a temple to Shelyn and make a donation.” The cat replied, stretching herself out. “I don’t really have many needs of my own.”
“Will do. Is she worshiped in the Shackles?” I asked. “It’ll get a bit complicated if she isn’t.”
“Eh. You should probably find a shrine somewhere if you look.” The cat shrugged. “If you can’t find one, figure it out. Donate to one of her allies, maybe? Or commission something from an artist for the public good.”
“Yes ma’am, will do.” I said. I wrote down Shelyn’s name later, since Autopilot had apparently never heard of her. I intended to keep my end of the bargain. “Any chance I could get your name? The last time I summoned one of your kind, he refused to give his name, so I ended up just calling him Silvanshee the whole time.”
“I am Seovi.” She said with a flick of the tail. “Do not call upon me lightly. If you weren’t in such dire need I wouldn’t be so understanding. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” I said with a salute. “I won’t bother you again, Seovi.”
••••••••••
The air elemental was a large, dark gray quadruped that floated a few inches above the deck. It vaguely resembled a miniature rhinoceros made of stormclouds, standing about three feet tall at the shoulder. We carefully set one of the sicker crew members on the elemental’s broad back and Seovni whistled his instructions. The three of them flew off together into the still smoky sky; Aaron’s cabin was quite conspicuous, so I didn’t worry about them getting lost.
The cat and the cloud had eaten up my four “free” second level spell slots. I had seven first level spells for the day, and could maintain one more summon. If I played my cards right, I’d be able to cast five normal spells. That, however, required me to get a strong entity on my first try. Seovi had orders to bring back a few supplies I’d left at the lookout, so for the moment I was out of magical work to do.
Looking busy is a magical talisman to ward off authority figures. That means I should be hassled in 3… 2…
“Emrys.” Caulky said, grabbing my wrist. “We need to talk. Meet me in my room.”
“Sure.” I answered, then yelled at Cog. “Oi! I’m going under with Caulky. Come get me immediately if you see the elemental coming back.”
Cog, who was standing vigil near the bow, gave me a lazy salute. My party had been singled out as the most well rested people present, leaving Rowe and Cog to pull a double shift. We would need to go without their level ups for at least the rest of the day.
Caulky attempted to drag me away from the deck, but I twisted my wrist out of her grip with ease. (Escape Artist 18+6=24). Reasserting control would make her look childish, so she let the matter drop. I followed her calmly; she didn’t have anything to gain by forcing the issue.
Caulky’s room was just as I remembered it. Comfortable, if a bit small. There wasn’t a ton of space, so Caulky was only a couple feet away from me when she began to speak.
“Emrys. I know you don’t like Sebastien, but is this really the time for you to be questioning his authority?” She asked, exasperated. “We are in the middle of a crisis!”
“Yeah, actually.” I said, leaning against the door. “I think it might be. Outside of a crisis, he has the authority to have me whipped to death on bullshit charges. This seems like the perfect time.”
“You’re talking like a mutineer!” Caulky hissed, her eyes wide. “The Captain’ll kill you for talking like that!”
“He already wanted to.” I answered, crossing my arms. “I’m done playing along, Caulky. I don’t owe Plugg anything. I don’t owe Harrigan anything. We are getting off this island and we are going our separate ways, at least assuming Plugg doesn’t make me kill him. I’d genuinely prefer to avoid that outcome, for what it’s worth.”
I’d much prefer keeping him in the hot box until he’s beef jerky and tossing all the Harrigan loyalists off the side of the ship next time we find a port.
“If you kill Seb, or steal this ship, Harrigan will find you.” Caulky said ominously. “He will kill you. If you want off, sure. I can promise you that. You can shove off at Rickety’s and no harm done. Find someone to take ye on, go wherever you like. Anyone who’ll follow you probably shouldn’t be in the fleet anyway.”
It’s like she doesn’t even realize we are only here in the fist place because of kidnapping and death threats.
“Then we are of one mind, Miss Tarroon.” I said, extending my hand to seal our pact. “Our alliance will carry us off this island and to our destination. I will cooperate, but don’t expect me to cringe.” (Bluff 16+16+10 (target wants to believe) =42 opposed bluff)
“I’ll hold you to that, Emrys.” Caulky said, her face softening. “You’re making the right choice.”
“I’m fairly sure of that.” I agreed. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
••••••••••
When Sandara strolled out on deck, a weak cheer rose from the crew. She’d always been popular, but a man wanted to believe god was looking out for him in a situation like this. As a cleric of modest but growing power, Sandara was the manifestation of divine intervention. When she was here, Besmara’s eyes were upon us. Well, four player character levels worth of attention were upon us.
The fourth level of cleric was a bit anemic compared to the fourth level of sorcerer. Sandara had gained an extra first and second level spell slot, but didn’t gain any new capabilities. She was clearly better, with higher saves, hp, and bab, but we were not blessed with any mystical silver bullets from Besmara. Luckily, she already had the spell I needed: Invisibility.
I suspected that Rowe could fix up the hole in the hull fairly easily if she could get her hands on a lot of wood. I vaguely remembered that seasoned wood was better than fresh wood for ships, but we didn’t have the opportunity to be picky. The ship carpenter seemed utterly terrified when I went down to check on the repairs; I had a creeping suspicion he did his apprenticeship in the same place I got my culinary degree. The scrap wood from the fishing village was rotted to the point of uselessness, (Appraise 18+2=20) though the “carpenter” did his best to look busy when I walked in.
Poor bastard probably just didn’t want to fight ghouls, but if everyone tries to hold out for this fucker to fix the hold we are all going to die.
Rowe picked out a tree that was clearly visible from the bow of the ship.
“White cedar. Good for ships.” She said, “long and wide enough to make a plug with exact dimensions. Then we tar it shut. Make better repairs later.”
“Alright Cog, are you ready to start your career as a lumberjack?” Sandara asked, smacking the big man on the back. “Or bait. I’d prefer the former, but follow your dreams.”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Cog grumbled, rubbing his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “There is no way I can chop that tree down in time.”
“If you can’t do it today, maybe tomorrow.” I said with a shrug. “Anything is better than sitting around here, hoping they run out of bodies before we do.”
Sandara pressed her Jolly Roger against Cog, and he seemed to dissolve into a fine mist. A handaxe manifested from nowhere to land on the beach, then vanished a few moments later. I watched carefully, and could easily track Cog’s footprints as he jogged a couple hundred feet to the treeline. The invisibility wasn’t a perfect defense, but he’d be fairly hard to track down or hurt as long as he didn’t attack anyone. He only had four minutes before the spell wore off.
Cog was a strapping young lad, but not strapping enough to chop down a tree on his first try. Apparently wooden objects had damage reduction and a very large amount of HP. Cog was strong enough to pierce the DR with every swing, but he needed to chew through more than a two hundred hit points when each strike did only 1-6 damage.
Of course, there was a secondary goal: morale. Not only were we visibly doing something proactive, Cog drew out a few ghouls with the noise. When a few ghouls slinked out to investigate, Rowe opened fire with her Missile Launcher. Despite the extravagant name, it didn’t do a ton of damage, averaging at about 7 on a direct hit. As ghouls were quite a bit more evasive and resilient than Grindylows, Rowe needed to empty the entire clip to kill off three curious ghouls. Then again, dead is dead and she could make more ammo with 15 minutes of effort.
The crew erupted in cheers and taunts when they saw their tormentors blasted away with firecrackers. In the grand scheme of things, three ghouls were not a meaningful victory. It sure felt good, though, and covered Cog’s flight back to the ship.
Another symbolic victory came in the form of an air elemental laden with loot. The crew oohed and ahhed appreciatively at the giant carved whale skull, and the sack of coins and grindylow artwork spilled across the deck. Far stranger was a fine Chelish dress and suit carried by Seovi, raided from Ivey’s store of clothes, but it was still an obviously expensive item.
“Anyone care to help me carry all this?” I asked the crew in general. “Put the skull on the poop deck. Cog, bring the sack and clothes to the common room. Oh, and Sandara, would you mind filling a bowl of water for Seovi? She’s got a few minutes before she has to head out again.”
Remember boys, I’m the guy that runs off into the woods and comes back with sacks of treasure and exotic women.
The Grindylows had been real magpies, snatching up anything shiny they could find. We’d gathered up quite a few coins, and a ton of eerie scrimshaw artwork. We’d found dozens of thick bones inlaid with silver and gold, which would probably sell well if we found a collector. Rowe guessed that we could get around 1200 gp for the lot, (Appraise 6+9=15) and that was before factoring in another thousand in silver and pearls, or the loose coins.
The huge skull was magical, and autopilot had broadly identified it as a repository of scrolls. Each carving contained a trapped spell, which autopilot was certain he could intuitively cast if he placed his hand upon the skull. The spells varied wildly, and almost all of them would be easier to use if the user didn’t need to be touching a 50 pound whale skull to cast them. However, a siege seemed like the perfect time to put the skull to use, and as I identified each scroll-carving, I felt more confident that we could make it through another night.
Alter self, Blur, and Enlarge Person were reasonably strong buffs Sosima could cast on herself, thanks to Vishgurv granting her insight into arcane magic. Daylight was essentially a magical floodlight, far better at illuminating the night than dancing lights. Slow, Color Spray, and Black Tentacles were AoE debuffs. Black Tentacles in particular was a heavily damaging fourth level spell; it was the kind of magic that Peppery Longfarthing would throw around. Touch of Idiocy, Vampiric Touch, and Hypnotism probably weren’t applicable to the ghoul siege, but they were still powerful spells in the right context. The skull was placed prominently on the poop deck, overseeing both the ship and the beach, so that we could make full use of the spells.
Maybe I should let Sosima keep the mirror image wand? She can use it and will be in melee way more often than I will.
I set that thought aside and headed down to the common room. Seovi and the air elemental had been fairly easy to get on my side. The silvanshee saw a ship full of men in need of help, and the Elemental just didn’t have a very strong Will to resist domination. My next choice would be somewhat more difficult to control, but if I could convince them, they would be invaluable to our survival. I’d considered a few potential options for what to summon, and finally settled upon a powerful outsider known as a Shae.
I laid out the fine clothes on the dining table for display, and left the rest to Autopilot.
I hummed, and reached out towards the source of my summoned darkness. In the plane of shadows, darkness is not merely the absense of light; it is its antithesis. A bottomless wellspring of quasi-real matter and energy that some, like my people, could draw upon. I called forth a practitioner of this magic, one whose people had long ago shed the limitations of mortality in favor of an existence as beings of pure shadow.
A crack appeared in reality, through which a smoky, amorphous liquid poured. It spilled out onto the floor, pooling and then rising to take on a hazy humanoid silhouette. It was vague, yet unmistakably feminine, like a dancer behind a veil. The Shae’s hand reached into her chest and withdrew an ornate porcelain mask inlaid with black filigree. She placed it delicately upon the front of her indistinct head.
“So, mortal,” she said in a faintly echoing voice. “What are your demands, and what are your offers?”
She examined the edges of the space I’d confined her to. A faint wind blew through the room, causing the eternal flame to dance. She was examining the limits of her confinement. She could already detect that nothing stopped her magic from reaching me, if I should displease her. (Sense Motive 17+2=19)
“We can get to that in the moment. I am Emrys M’Dair.” I said. “Before I make my offer, I have a gift for you. I know how your people like clothes from the Prime Material plane. I assume you’d prefer the dress, but I prepared a small selection. If that is sufficient to pique your interest, we can begin negotiations with you giving me your name. If not, we can part as friends.”
She laughed. The sound bounced around the room far more than it should, giving the unsettling impression that she was behind me.
“Very well, Emrys M’Dair.” The Shae said, “You have earned the patience of Yael. Do not squander it, or I will be very cross.”