Sareneth 19, Fireday

The hold was quiet, save the ever present creak of the ship and my own boots on the wooden floor. Grok hunched over the counter, tallying the various odds and ends in the dim light. I suppose she must have darkvision herself, because to my eyes the whole room and it’s older orc inhabitant were shrouded in grey. The quartermaster glanced up when I entered and gestured held up one finger. After she jotted down a few numbers, then showed me her tusks as a huge grin split her face.

“Hey, man of the hour!” She said jovially, lighting a small oil lamp, “I hear you’re up for a promotion.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “I just talked to the captain. Apparently he thinks I’m qualified to be a strike team leader?”

“You did good, but don’t let it go to your head,” Grok cautioned as she pulled a small sack down from the wall. “The captain is hard up, so he’s a bit more free with promotions than he would be otherwise. You’re getting the perks up front, but you’ll regret catching his eye if you don’t work out. The captain takes disappointment poorly.”

“Oh.” I said. “Thanks for the heads up, I suppose.”

Ah shit. I’ll definitely be burning bridges if I leave the fleet. Maybe I should kill the guy after all?

Grok handed me the bag from the wall and I tugged the drawstring out of the way immediately. Inside lay three objects nestled on a bed of silver and copper coins: a black coat with a smooth, oily texture, a miniature crossbow that felt comfortable in my hand, 15 bolts for the crossbow, and a polished mirror.

You son of a bitch; your idea of a bonus is giving me back my own shit? This makes me desire crime.

I quietly focused arcane energy into my eyes, masking the movements and words as I looked around the small office. As magical auras became visible to me, I noted a stack of cheap candles. Among them was a single enchanted wax stick glowing with faint enchantment magic, mixed haphazardly among the rest. 

I walked over to the chest full of weapons, and Grok became more on guard as I approached the merchandise. I had some cash now, and a reason to use it. 

“Grok. When I pick my team, will I be able to requisition weapons and armor for them?” I asked, looking closely at the collection of spears, blades, and firearms. “I didn’t ask the captain, but I don’t think you hold your time quite as preciously as he does.”

“Precious enough to get to the point.” She answered, “No. No freebies, but I can loan some of it out.”

“Could I take a look at the armor you have available?” I asked innocently. “If it comes down to a choice between two people, I might end up picking the person I can properly outfit as a tie breaker.” (Grok influence +1)

She agreed magnanimously and began pulling out the protective clothing she had in stock. While Grok prepared the small collection, I sat down next to the candles and slipped the magical one into my new bag. If she noted that it was lost and confronted me, I was sure that I’d be able to play dumb; I had no indication she knew it was anything but a normal white candle. (Sleight of Hand 20+8=28 Critical Success) 

“The good news is that we have something for everyone.” She explained, “The bad news is that we don’t have much in the way of serious armor.”

The “armor” she had in abundance resembled a long, thick jersey made of quilted cloth. Reinforced tunic. AC +1, Max Dex +5. Arcane spell failure 5%. Light Armor. The stats popped into my head unprompted as I considered the gear.

“You wear it under or over other clothing.” Grok explained. “It’s got chains woven into it to blunt blades and the like, and you generally want to wear a belt to cinch it at the waist. It’s a bit shit, but most real armor needs to be fitted to the wearer. Just about anyone of around the right height can throw one of these on and it makes their gut harder to slice open. Cheap, too.”

“How cheap is cheap?” I asked.

“One gold.” She answered.

“Is that one gold in town or one gold here?” I challenged.

She gave me a sad smile. “On this one, same price either way. I like to encourage officers investing in their team’s safety. Anyway, let’s move on before you think I’ve gone soft.”

The second type she showed me was an Armored Coat. +4AC. Max Dex +3. Arcane Spell Failure 20%. Medium Armor. They were heavy oilcloth dusters that went down below the knees that had thick ceramic disks the size of my palm worked into the lining. They had a lot of the same ease of use benefits that the reinforced tunics had and were designed to be easily repairable by slotting in new disks. I’d seen a Sandara wearing a coat in this style exactly once; that time that she tried to beat the shit out of me. The main drawbacks were that they were very heavy and relatively expensive to make.

“Fifty gold pieces?” I demanded, “you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Says the sorcerer running around with a half sized crossbow.” Grok countered. “It’s some of the heaviest kit a normal person is likely to wear on a ship. Easy to take off if you get thrown in the drink.”

Oh right. This thing is worth 100gp. I don’t… really need the crossbow, do I? I have Ray of Frost. 1d3 damage vs 1d4. (1+2+3)/3 = 2 vs (1+2+3+4)/4 = 2.5. Is .5 damage worth 100 gold?

“The last thing I’ve got here that might interest you is this.” Grok pulled out a set of Parade Armor. +3 AC, Max Dex +5. Arcane Spell Failure Chance 15%. Light Armor. +2 to Diplomacy and Intimidate towards people from the Shackles. It was a suit of “armor” suited to a slender frame, which emphasized form over function. An armored corset, a much lighter version of the armored coat, tight leather pants artfully designed to look like they weren’t heavily reinforced and show off the hips. It could probably fit me, and apparently would give me a meaningful bonus to some of my social skills through the power of fashion, but the arcane spell failure chance made me nervous.

“Well, might as well let me try it.” I sighed. “Won’t know until I do.”

A 15% arcane spell failure chance certainly sounds bad, but I didn't think it would hurt to check. It might be worth wearing something that made my social skill checks better even at the cost of my spellcasting. Around one in six spells failing is… ok yeah it’s pretty bad, so I’d only get dressed up when I’m not expecting a fight?

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It fit reasonably well, if a bit baggy in the thighs. Generally pretty comfortable. It was at that point that I noticed Grok holding back laughter.

Grok cackled when she saw my questioning look. “It’s tailored for a woman, but it fits you way too well!” She wheezed out. “You could lean into that if you wanted. ‘Girly’ Emrys. I’ve heard of captains trying dumber things to be distinctive.” She composed herself. “I was actually thinking for your girl.”

“Huh?” I asked with my signature eloquence.

“I assume it was the Rahadoumi girl you were going to town on last night?” She answered, “Walls are thin and ships are small, lad. I don’t think anyone else heard, but Kroop and I share a wall with the galley. I think he was too drunk but I could tell you were doing a good job.”

My cheeks flared… whatever color drow blush. Is it still red? “Well yeah. Shit. I didn’t think of that.” I foundered.

“Don’t worry about it.” Grok answered with a twinkle in her eye. “I don’t tell tales. Much. Nobody but Kroop I’d bother telling anyway. Maybe Peppery, if I thought she’d care, but you know how rarely she leaves her cabin these days. Probably prepping for something big.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.” I answered noncommittally. “I’ll be back when I’ve chosen my team.”

I bought two of the small sized tunics. I wasn’t planning on including Rosie or Conchobar on my official team, but I was currently flush with cash. Two gold to keep my friends a little bit safer seemed like a good deal, and gave me something to shove into my new bag over the stolen magic candle.

I returned to the galley to fill up my bottles and start my rounds with a handful of people in mind for my team. I didn’t want to put anyone in a position to turn down a promotion; that always looks bad. As such, I intended to gauge interest before I gave the Captain my list.

Obviously I want Sandara. The amount of healing she can pump out would have made those reefclaws trivial. That said, I don’t necessarily want to fill up my official team with party members. This might be one of the best opportunities to fast track people into being my allies; if their financial well-being relies on me, it doesn’t matter if they like me. 

Alright… so, who qualifies for the power of friendship mission?

Ally with 3/6/10 crew members from the following list before 7/4: Caulky Tarroon, Owlbear Hartshorn, Ambrose Kroop, Cut-throat Grok, Sandara Quinn, Rosie Cusswell, Crimson Cogward, Conchobar Shortstone, Syl Lonegan, Jakes Magpie, Fipps Chumlett, Jack Scrimshaw

Reward: 1 exp, Sudden Coaxing Spell/ 1 exp, Advance Pay, Boots of Authority / 1 exp, craft magic arms and armor

I already have Owlbear, Kroop, Sandara, Rosie, Syl, and Jakes. So I need four of Caulky, Grok, Crimson, Conchobar, Fipps, and Jack. I can keep working on Grok little by little; I get points of influence just by talking to her. Those will pile up eventually. Not as sure about Conchobar, but we will see. I already know he’d turn down an invitation to the raiding party, so it’s a moot point. 

I don’t think I want Fipps; he’s one of the guys that always jumps to help Scourge. This might be the only way to get him as an ally, but I should be able to trust the people I fight with and Plugg’s toadies don’t qualify there. That leaves Caulky, Crimson, and Jack. Crimson seems like he’s a pretty tough guy; he’s probably a good pick for a combat role. If I can’t fill out the team with mission targets, then I ask Syl. Easy. 

I stored a certain magic candle in my hiding spot in the half-buried cabinet while Kroop was occupied, and hefted my box of water bottles. I had a pretty good feel for how long I could talk to someone before annoying the officers, at least. It was more than enough to pull someone aside and gauge interest.

Of course I was rather surprised to feel a hand on my shoulder in the hall. I clung to the box as I was pushed against the wall one handed, taken off balance by the maneuver. Thankfully I wasn’t under attack, just cornered by a girl with big brown eyes and pouty lips.

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“Hey, I hear you’re being given a strike team.” Caulky hissed from a surprisingly intimate distance. “I want in. I can make it worth your while.”