Week 2: From the Player's Standpoint

DM's Comments

Well, two of the players, Dave and Jim, did not show up. Roger, a new player, did however, so we prepared a character for him and the other two can suck the pipe for now.

Roger selected a fighter, but has very definate views about what he should be like. He plays a Robin Hood-type character, who goes around saving people and distributing money to the poor, most of it anyway. He is a natural for being recruited by the Freedom Society; he is naiive in the extreme with morals to the point of being burdensome. Yep, he's a natural. His character is VERY concerned with how he looks, and seeks cooldom above all. Roger described his personality using The Tick as an archetype. This could be interesting indeed.

Morning Breaks

The members of the party wake up to the heavenly smell of breakfast being prepared for the guests. If anything could wake the street begger turned adventurer Telen (Wayne's character), this could. He headed for the dining area only to find Rand Albrien (Tony's character) already there chowing down at the captain's table. Telen began to eat all that he could, then stuffing more into his clothing "for later."

Roger (whose character remains yet unnamed) strode confidently, his pull-behind battle wagon a site to see. This mobile storage for "stuff" was decorated with symbols of death and such. Truly this was no Radio Flyer. Parking his wagon where it would not roll off, Roger coolly looked over the Katrina, checking out the wheels and lower deck, drawing the attention of Gina Fredrik, the weaponsmaster.

"You down there, what do you think you're doing?"

Roger struck an aloof pose and ignored her. With the lack of response that her question had provoked, Gina punctuated her repeated question by aiming the ballista that she was looking over in Roger's direction.

"Yes, this might do I suppose," he said casually, looking over the ship.

"Whatever do you mean, knave?"

"I hear that you are looking for men to protect your ship. If the payment is sufficient, I would consider it."

Her hackles raised somewhat by the fighter's overconfident tone, she fought back what she REALLY wanted to say, simply stating,"What can you do?"

Roger held his bow high for her to see and said,"Just pick a target."

Gina pointed to a smallish tree a ways off and Roger fired from the hip, neatly scoring a hit.

"Can you do it twice in a row?" Gina asked, remembering the erratic performance of Jim's archery.

Roger spun and shot at one of the arrow holes in the Katrina which had pierced its armor and found his mark. From her vantage point, Gina had not seen the arrow hole that Roger had fired upon. She came down from her perch in the ballista turret to see what Roger had done.

"Yes, it seems that you hit the ship at a mighty ten paces," she quipped.

Realizing that he hadn't announced his target, he tried to salvage the situation.

"See, my arrows pierced through your armor with ease," he lied.

"I suppose you might do," Gina stated,"come with me." She lowered a rope ladder, which Roger climbed up, and headed up a flight of stairs to the upper deck, heading for the dining area. Opening the door to where the guests ate and conversed, she pointed to the captain's table and said simply, "He'll take care of things."

Roger approached the table, knowing just how cool he must look in his fine banded mail armor and well-blacked boots. He bowed deeply to the captain.

"Gina said that you are seeking good fighters. I am at your service," Roger stated.

"Oh, good show then!" said Laren enthusiastically,"Won't you join me for a little breakfast? The bacon is VERY good today!"

"I don't know that I'm all that hungry," Roger said,"but perhaps some good bread would suit me."

Laren wildly waved for a waitress, which came right away. "Pinemay, won't you hurry along and get this man some of our best rye bread and butter. And some bacon?" he said, his head cocked toward Roger.

"I think the bread will do fine."

"The bacon is VERY good," said Laren, his eyebrows raised.

"All right then," said Roger. For some reason that Roger could not fathom, Laren looked very pleased, and returned to his breakfast.

"Got all that?" Laren asked the waitress. She nodded. "Then off with ye!" he said, slapping her on the hindquarters. She gave him a look as if to say "oh, you!" and she hustled off.

"If Gina recommended you," started Laren, "you must be good indeed. Hire is 50 gold upon arriving in Grunburg, more if you prove yourself worth more. Your job," he said, leaning close to Roger, his eyes darting about almost in a conspirative sort of way,"is to keep the centaurs off the ship. You do know that we were attacked by the foul beasts?"

"So I had heard."

"Well," continued Laren, "if you see any..." said Laren, pausing dramatically, "shoot them!" He scratched his chin in thought, then added,"and don't let them get on the ship." Laren looked happy with his explaination, and returned to his meal.

"That's it?" asked Roger.

"Isn't that enough?" Laren looked a bit confused, but a sudden thought about the socks in his cabin he had yet to sort demanded the stage in his mind.

The food arrived promptly and Roger joined Rand, Telen, and the captain for a bite to eat.

A blood curtling scream reverberated through the ship from a lower deck. Rand leaped up purposefully with Roger close behind. Stuffing a hunk of ham down his trousers, Telen followed, still chewing. They ran down a flight of stairs to where a maid screamed bloody murder. To look dramatic, Roger had thought of leaping from the upper deck, but the ten foot drop and a risk of a broken leg calmed his need to stun.

The maid jumped up and down, waving her feather duster wildly, pointing inside.

"She's a-dead!" she exclaimed in a thick Innlandstadt drawl, frantically making religious gestures in all directions. Gina was already on the scene when the others arrived.

"Show me!" demanded Gina.

The maid continued her frantic tirade as she opened the door to the living quarters deck and headed down a hall, turning right at the first intersection. She went a few doors down and opened the door. From the hall outside one could see the body of an aged woman lying on the floor. Taking one look at the body, she went into another fit, dancing around and screaming. Gina strode purposefull inside, as always, master of the situation.