Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Erastus 3

I didn’t expect a woman made of shadows to emit blinding light any more than I expected a woman who entered the room naked to be shy about getting dressed. Yael surprised me on both counts the moment she picked up the dress. A quick “Avert your eyes, mortal,” was the only warning I received before she saw fit to scorch my sensitive retinas.

Will save 4+5=9 fail!

What the hell was that will save!

Shae are creatures of shadow. Their magic is only quasi-real. She is not generating light, as that would be counter to her nature; she is generating the illusion of light. Knowing that intellectually does not dispel the illusion, unfortunately, as it looks and feels so real that we can not convince our eyes that the light isn’t real. 

What the fuck is this gibberish you are spouting? The illusion of light? How does that even work?

Magic. (Spellcraft DC0 20+11=31 Critical Success!)

Yael cursed under her breath as she fiddled with her clothing, and was taking longer than expected. It seemed likely that she was unfamiliar with this style of dress, and was struggling with the laces. (Perception 15+2-1 (bright light) = 16) 

So she’s just worried that she is going to look silly?

“Mortal. You may look upon me.” Yael intoned, “I am properly dressed, and ready to hear your offer.”

I opened my eyes and turned to the Shae. She was sitting in the chair across from me at the long wooden table, hands folded in her lap. Rather than dismissing them, Yael had moved all her dancing lights to form a halo behind herself. Her ash gray hair twisted and curled like spiraling smoke, starkly visible in the magical lighting. She was far easier to look at while wearing the dress. I noted that she’d acquired a sword somewhere, probably the same place she kept her mask, and had belted it to her side in a snowy white sheath.

“I’m glad, Mistress.” I said. “That you would speak to one as lowly as I. (Diplomacy check interrupted) I hope that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You see, my ship is under siege by ghouls and I believe you would be extremely valuable aiding in our defense. I’m willing to pay you.”

Oof. I think Autopilot got triggered. Looks like this one is all me. 

“Pay me?” She asked lightly. “Quite well, I would hope. My time is precious to me, mortal.”

“Emrys.” I answered.

“Excuse me?” Yael said, cocking her head to the side.

“My name is Emrys M’Dair.” I said. “I believe we began this conversation with that, Yael. I would prefer to not be referred to as mortal. If we don’t respect one another, I think things will break down rather quickly.”

She stood up rapidly, and with a flick of her wrist engulfed me in a torrent of quasi-real water. The effect was entirely lost, as I watched her weave the magic and knew it for what it was. The insubstantial, smoky streamers which struck me held little of the force that the Hydraulic Torrent spell she was emulating normally struck with. A nonlethal option, a show of force, not truly intended to harm me. (Will Save 14+5=19) 

The world slowed down as combat began, but thankfully Autopilot warned me that she wasn’t actually shooting to kill. I sat in my chair, staring at the incensed outsider for a few minutes.

She’s making a power play. Calling her out on her disrespect made her angry. Then again, she also tried to hide that putting on the dress was difficult. I think she’s insecure. I could have Autopilot play into that, probably, but he might cave if I give him free reign. Alright Autopilot, here’s what I need you to say. Pretty it up, turn it into a check, but do not change the content.

“Please, Mistress Yael, compose yourself.” I implored her, ignoring her failed spell like the smoke that it was. “I do not seek a confrontation. Your strength, your beauty, I would give anything to be your equal in those areas. In a fair fight, you would destroy me utterly. That strength is why I called you. However, my own strengths are why I felt confident in doing so. My magic is greater than yours, and if you force me to, I will destroy you.” (Intimidate to appear more powerful 16+11+5=32, opposed by target’s Appraise) 

Yael believes you are substantially more powerful than her. Yael is impressed. 

Good. That worked. Now, time for Mean Girls tactics. She thinks I’m better than her, so she will want to be on my good side. Time to keep going. Don’t let her get a word in. 

“It is so rare that I can meet with someone that is an equal.” I said, sighing. “I will still allow you to leave if you don’t wish to take my deal, of course. I won’t hurt you unless you force my hand. Destroying someone like you would be a real disservice to the world. I don’t just want you for this battle, you know. I hear your people sometimes take on mortal students, even lovers. If you have interest, I would forge a bond between us that might last a very long time. Are you interested, Yael?”

“Perhaps.” She said, shifting her mask to look away from me. “I will need to see what you can offer me in return for my company and assistance.”

I pulled out a large pearl, the size of my thumb nail. The grindylows had kept half a dozen of them in an old walrus tusk for whatever reason, and I didn’t think anyone on my team would complain I used the spoils to make sure we didn’t die. I rolled it across the table to Yael.

“One of these each night.” I said. “For four nights. In return, you will defend me from harm and help me to defeat my enemies. The ghouls are the most pressing concern, but there may be others as well. You will make a good faith effort to keep the crew of this ship alive, though you may of course prioritize your own survival. If I see that you are at risk of dying, I will dismiss you.”

Yael examined the iridescent pearl closely, inspecting it for flaws. There were none. I didn’t know why, but the grindylows had set aside only massive, perfect pearls. Each was worth 75gp according to Rowe, so I was making a real sacrifice here.

“Very well,” Yael said, “your offer is acceptable. Your suggestion of further relations will be addressed at a later date.”

She pressed the pearl against the side of her neck. It vanished into whatever internal compartment had held her mask and sword before our meeting. I stood and held out my hand to shake. She held her gloved hand out limply, and I’m proud to say I only stared at it for a second before I took it and kissed her on the knuckle.

There’s definitely something firm under the clothes. She doesn’t feel like a water balloon or anything. 

I took Yael’s hand and led her to the deck. The men fell quiet when they saw her. She was quite unlike my other summons. A magic cat? Easy enough to accept. Dierdre was a friendly and helpful fairy. Even the elementals had been animal shaped clouds. Impressive, of course, but nothing to get excited about.

Yael stood upon the poop deck and slowly turned her gaze upon each member of the crew, allowing them to gawk at her while she inspected them in turn. Her mask held a coldly neutral expression, not helped by the black holes that served as her eyes. To top it all off, the sun refused to touch her body. A thin sheath of magic enveloped her in shade, marking her as subtly out of sync with the brightly illuminated ship she stood upon.

I checked in with Sosima, the other magical warrior noblewoman waiting for ghouls to attack. She’d successfully gotten Plugg to pass out, and left him on his bed to rest. He’d be out of my hair, and he’d get some sleep before the next attack. I considered it a win all around, really.

“Any thoughts on how to handle this?” I asked her. “I’d like to build some defenses or something before the fighting starts, but I don’t know enough about warfare to really have any ideas.”

“Well, we could probably set up a few of those useless boards to act as barricades.” Sosima said dubiously. “Those torches certainly seemed to help, as well. I can’t imagine anything that could buy us more than a few seconds.”

“Sosima, the whole fight last night was over in a few minutes.” I pointed out. “A few seconds is all I need to cast a spell, and that can kill a ghoul all on its own if I get lucky. Anything could help.”

I leaned in closer.

“That, and these guys are antsy.” I whispered, “they need to do something or they are going to go insane. You were a morale officer, weren’t you? Setting aside defenses, can you think of anything to raise morale?”

Sosima blushed when I mentioned her job. (Perception 9+2=11)

“Well, I focused on the officers, mostly. Like with the captain today.” She said, not meeting my eyes. “Sometimes I would sing for the crew, especially on holy days.”

“What she means is that she was a very high class ship girl.” Sandara said cheerily, strolling up with a bottle of water for each of us. “Maybe a Madame for the lower class girls on the ship too, since she was an ‘officer’. The Chels fit everything into their hierarchies. Nice job picking her up right before making a bid for captain. She looks like she’d be good at her job.”

Sandara swept away with a mischievous grin, winking at Sosima. The tiefling-turned-gillman stared at her as she left, holding her bottle in a white knuckled grip. She turned to face me with a cheerful grin, though I noted that she didn’t blink at any point in the next few minutes.

“Well. That was indelicately put, but not entirely inaccurate.” Sosima said in a quavering voice. “I was an officer. I did have a place in the chain of command, and I have aided in the defense of my ship multiple times. I oversaw the wait staff, which did include a half-elven whore from Westcrown, and was expected to serve in a wide variety of capacities.”

“Is that normal?” I asked, wary of landmines. “I don’t know much about Cheliax, I admit. Isn’t your family important? Plugg recognized your name immediately.”

“Yes. Well, that’s a double edged sword, is it not?” Sosima said, “When all eyes are upon a family, they need to minimize scandals. Both of my parents are human, you see. I was sent to join the fleet once their first plan failed.”

Her fingers brushed the gold earrings she always wore, which had hidden her ghoulish nature when we first met. I squeezed her wrist gently.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” I said, “For what it’s worth, I’m happy to have you here. You were incredible last night. I don’t know if we’d have survived without you.”

Not to mention that you were almost as incredible the night before that. Just in a very different way. 

“Yes, well,” Sosima said, more naturally, “don’t expect me to die for you often. I can only pull that trick off once a year and I would prefer to avoid doing so annually.”

“I’m fairly sure it would be advantageous to move away from Vishgurv regardless.” I said. “Half of the abilities he grants are redundant for gillmen, no? Breathing water, super swimming, that kind of thing?”

“For a gillman, maybe.” Sosima said, before flinching in pain. “Anyone else should really consider binding him, though. Even as a gillman, the ability to use arcane wands and scrolls will prove extremely useful over the next few nights.”

Right. She’s driven to try to get other people to bind Visgurv. I’m not a binder, but I guess even a mild critique goes against her magical NDA unless she follows it up. 

“Anyway, could you keep an eye on Yael?” I asked. “No one else I really trust is available to do so. I don’t expect trouble, but it seems best to be proactive.”

“Of course,” Sosima agreed, “perhaps I can tell her about the glories of Vishgurv.”

She rolled her eyes as she spoke, so she probably wasn’t serious. I hoped.

••••••••••

Syl swapped out the water jug and passed the full one around to the sick. She bashed Rattsberger on the back of the head when she saw him trying to steal a sip.

“The vector of infection is bites, idiot.” Syl snapped. “Are you honestly telling me that you want to put your mouth on something covered in infected saliva?”

“Sorry, miss.” The halfling man said, sighing. “It’s just that the clean jug is empty.”

“Then ask Ivey if he can fill it.” Syl retorted, “these people are sweating constantly. They need water and they need salt, or we are going to have our own little outbreak up here. Is that what you want?”

“No ma’am.” He said, looking at his boots.

“Anyway, you’re headed to the ship next time the cat comes around.” Syl said. “They have all the water you can hope for, and need every able bodied man they can get.”

Syl regretted that decision, but only slightly. Narwhal would have helped more on the ship, since he had Darkvision, but he was reliable and didn’t mind working with Owlbear. The big man was a tremendous asset when properly shepherded, but Rosie still wasn’t up for the task.

“Calm down!” Owlbear pleaded with a tall man called Maheem, even as he held him down one handed. “You can’t get up. You’re sick, Mister Maheem.”

“I need to find her!” Maheem yelled, “my love! She’s in the desert! I have to save her!”

Syl sighed. The three heavily infected ones were like that occasionally. Mostly lucid, then they’d get some insane notion in their head. A justification to isolate themselves. Maheem was on the mend, but that didn’t stop him from fighting to run off into the wilderness. Syl hated magical diseases; ghoul fever was half curse, and far too well tailored to the enemy’s needs.

Syl had “accidentally” let Fipps Chumlett go, and he was probably ghoul chow by now. If he wasn’t, he was just wandering around in the jungle. She wasn’t silver tongued like Emrys. If one of her enemies wanted to kill himself, she’d let them. She wasn’t about to turn that lap dog against Plugg, and she needed the bed for another patient.

••••••••••

When Plugg stepped out on deck, the sun was already nearing the horizon. The men, most of whom had only stolen short naps over the course of the day, shot him dirty looks. He joined me at the bow, where I stood flanked by Sandara and Yael.

“Ah, good evening Sebastien.” I called. “Ready for your shift? I was thinking we should probably let Caulky have a long rest tomorrow. I think we can manage together, no?”

“Hey!” Caulky answered, “I’m no delicate flower, and I don’t have magic. I can sleep when the crew does.”

“Indeed, Miss Tarroon.” Plugg said, “I’m surprised I was allowed to sleep as long as I was. As first mate, you should have applied the same logic to me that you applied to yourself. My magic does not leave me indisposed without a proper night’s sleep. Do not allow it to happen again.”

“Sorry.” She said, wincing, “I just figured that with the two of you not getting along so well, it might be better if you stayed away from one another for the most part.”

“I see your logic.” Plugg answered, “I find it flawed. We can discuss this at length after we have repelled tonight’s assault.”

“Agreed.” I said, “I was just about to wake you up, actually. I think I’d like to bloody their noses a bit, but I didn’t want to risk anything without you awake. Oh, and this is Yael. She is from the Shadow Plane.”

“Naturally.” Plugg sighed, then turned and addressed Yael in a droning language. She responded in kind, and he bowed and kissed her hand. She seemed impressed, from her body language. It seems he knew the right things to say to a lady of her station; not many mortals can speak Aklo fluently. (Sense motive 16+1=17)

How? How do you know that? The woman has no visible face and she barely moved. 

“So, I know you only just woke up.” I said to Plugg. “I’d suggest you eat something quickly; we won’t have another chance for a while.”

••••••••••

Rowe flew through the sky on Charcoal Longshanks’s elemental. The creatures were fascinating, really, but she didn’t have time to appreciate it. She had work to do. Specifically, the fun kind of work where things went boom.

“The targets are to the southeast.” The flying cat yelled over the rushing wind. “They were huddled together when I last checked on them. If we are lucky they are still having their meeting.”

Rowe gave the cat a thumbs up. She was glad that the little outsider spoke goblin. Common was such a ridiculous language. It took twice as many words to say half as much; probably because humans were stupid and needed things spelled out for them. That was Rowe’s theory, anyway. They wrote so much down; how could they possibly think straight with so many of their words outside their head, trapped on paper?

The pack of ghouls, as promised, was just barely visible through the canopy. Rowe didn’t bother waiting for a perfect shot. She just tossed both of the jugs of alchemist fire at center mass and signaled to the cat to turn back. Those ghouls were going to be pissed, and Rowe needed to set up before they decided to strike back.

••••••••••

The first assault, made up of extra crispy ghouls maddened by pain, went great. Seovi reported that several of the ghouls had died immediately, and the remainder had split up. About half had run deeper into the woods, while the other half charged the ship immediately.

None of them reached the ship. The lighting was still fairly good, so we could all use our longest range attacks. Plugg sent forth a crab which, once again, mostly served as a one round delay. I won’t knock an extra round, though. A dozen crossbow bolts found their marks while the ghouls ate crab legs, and Yael conjured a swirling cloud of shadows that fired bolts of very realistic lightning. Only three of the mad ghouls even started to climb the deck; I finished one of them off with a frost blast, one was crushed against the hull by my air elemental, and the last was impaled by Sosima’s magical returning spear.

Everything went silent after that. A dozen corpses lay upon the beach, no longer a threat to us. After the prior night’s events, the easy slaughter felt wrong. Almost unearned.

“Very good, men.” Plugg called out. “I think we may have purchased ourselves a few hours of respite, if the pattern holds.”

The men relaxed, just a bit. They were still standing tall, ready to strike, but they put their crossbows down at their sides. A full night of tension wasn’t good for anyone.

Unfortunately, our rest was short lived. We were interrupted, not by another tide of ghouls, but by four incredibly thin figures that burst from the treeline and charged towards our torches. The creatures were composed of gnawed bone, held together by sinew made from negative energy. Unholy marionettes, frequently gifted to the servants of dark gods. They moved with fluid grace and uncanny speed. (Perception 17+2=19)

So… skeletons. 

Yes. 

Dozens of crossbow bolts tore through the air and struck the skeletons. Most of the shots glanced off of the magically reinforced bone, sometimes knocking off chips as they did. Even though Rowe blasted half of one unlucky skeleton’s head off with her shotgun, it barely paused before returning to the important work of smothering the torch with sand. The next shot, though it hit a far less sensitive spot, caused the animated bones to collapse into a pile on the sand.

Rowe shot skeleton 2 for 8-5=3 damage

Damn it. They’ve got DR 5. Crossbows do 1d8, so most hits aren’t going to do much. 

Most likely they are resistant to non-blunt weapons, which unfortunately accounts for many of the weapons favored by our crew. 

Plugg’s crab finally had the chance to prove itself. The skeletons weren’t very strong next to ghouls, so it was able to charge from skeleton to skeleton, crushing them with its massive pincers. They hardly reacted, either to the crab or my air elemental, focused as they were upon darkening the beach.

The skeletons fell, and only a minute later they were replaced with another quartet of the same. Equally bereft of self preservation, they lasted only long enough to knock over two more torches before being struck down. They too were replaced, and the torches fell, leaving our well-lit ship afloat in a sea of darkness.

They’re working up to something. 

As if on cue, a dozen ghouls rushed out of the trees, coming for the ship alongside another wave of skeletons. I snapped my fingers, calling up dancing lights to illuminate our targets. As the purple orbs of light appeared, the ghouls turned on a dime and rushed back into the darkness. One of them burst into blue flames, courtesy of Yael, but the rest scattered before we could react properly. The beach was silent as my lights faded away.

Wave after wave appeared over the course of hours, fraying my patience. The skeletons never rushed the ship, even after darkness fell completely. Instead they would drag away corpses, collect the crossbow bolts, or mark the line where Rowe’s Darkvision ended by checking when she’d start shooting at them.

“Sosima.” I called. “Could you come over here? I have some questions.”

“May I, captain?” She asked Plugg, who grunted his acceptance. She stepped forward next to us on the bow.

“Can you tell us anything about that necromancer?” I asked, “There’s another batch coming from that direction, Plugg.”

“Thank you, Mr. M’Dair.” Plugg said, sending a crab in the indicated direction. “Yes, Lady Aulamaxa. How well do you know him?”

“Not well I’m afraid. I only met him in person before his death.” She spoke to Plugg directly, “I believe he called himself Elmer Blackteeth.”

“Never heard of him.” I said. (Knowledge Nobility 4+1=5) 

“Not uncommon among pirates that give themselves names.” Plugg said with a flippant wave of his hand. “The people will give you a sobriquet if you impress them. Forcing the issue reeks of desperation.”

“Blackteeth came to the island a few years ago.” Sosima continued, “unlike most, he came on purpose. He wanted to gather a crew of ghouls. I didn't much want to leave the island as a slave, so I bit him. He didn’t survive the fever, and his ship sailed off without him.”

“So he’s an idiot?” I asked.

“More unlucky.” Sosima answered. “He really can manipulate most ghouls easily. I was just stubborn enough to defy his commands and get a lucky shot in. He doesn’t actually have his own pack. He just takes control of two lesser pack leaders, forces them to cooperate, and throws them at his enemies.”

He doesn’t seem to be a tactical genius or anything, but he’s leveraging the skeletons well. 

“How many skeletons can he raise?” I asked, “are they animated or summoned?”

“Animated.” She said, “and he’s saved up a large stockpile. He has his servants gather bones from other packs' kills, and spends his spare time piecing them together into usable skeletons. The flesh goes to whoever killed the target, but the bones always go to Blackteeth.”

Sosima’s statement hung heavily in the air for a moment, before we were interrupted.

“Cap’n. We’re running out of bolts.” Caulky informed Plugg nervously, “Should we send someone down to pick them up?”

“Of course not.” Plugg growled. “I’d never agree to such a thing, except perhaps as a feint. Mr. M’Dair, I don’t suppose you can generate some illusory sailors for us?”

“I’m afraid not.” I told him. “I’m really not holding anything back here.”

“Any chance your pets can kill this one like the archer?” He asked.

“Maybe, if it stays back while the rest attack.” I said. “I can’t see one air elemental managing the job while Blackteeth’s bodyguards are covering him, and a bunch of ghouls saw me pull that trick last night. We’d lose the elemental for no reason. Rowe can replace the ammo if we can make it through the night, so don’t worry about that.”

“Men. Hold your fire.” Plugg called out. “We can’t afford to waste ammunition on mere skeletons.”

We only had enough bolts left for a few volleys by the time the ghouls attacked in force. It didn’t really matter; the torches were long gone by then.