Hmm... Alright I played this at UberCon and I just found my character sheet. I want to play but I'm probably going to get this wrong. I apologize in advance if I do anything too horribly noob-ish. Anyway, I read that I was supposed to post my character sheet and past adventures. I'll post my sheet - what I have filled in - here, and my adventures in the next post, so if anyone wants to move my sheet to a Behind the Screen or some such thing it's that much easier.
Harry Smith (Stage 2)
AKA
Lucianos Northfire - A numerologically agreeable name, used only by witches and gods.
John O'Sevens, Minister of Information - Used only online.
Attributes
1@3 Flexibility
2@2 Agility
2@3 Intellect
1@7 Intuition
2@2 Education Level
Weaknesses
Thin Blood
Caffeine Addiction
Phobias: Heights, Bees/Wasps
Physical Description:
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 260lbs.
Current Hair Style: Short
Facial Hair: Rogue's Goatee
Markings: Left earring
Skills
2@5 English Writing Psi 0@0
2@5 Witchcraft Mag 1@0
2@1 Smallsword Duelling Bod 7@1
2@1 Philosophy Mag 0@0
1@5 Robotics (Function Machine) Tech 12@4
1@7 Psychometry (This is listed on my sheet as Mag 7@5 but I wonder if it's more Psionic)
1@10 Influence Luck Mag 1@5
1@5 Military Hand-to-Hand Combat (specialty in disarming maneuvers) Bod 7@1
Equipment
Brown Tunic
Black Jeans and Sneakers
Green Plaid Boxers
Wallet - Three forms of ID, $20 US cash, photos, credit card
20 Dice, various sizes
Irish bamboo flute, in D
Red-Bladed smallsword, meteoric iron, nicknamed "SoulMourn"
Swordbelt and Scabbard
Jedi-style black cloak, cotton twill, heavily waterproofed
Wide-brimmed black hat
Red and black metal-framed hiking backpack
Hatchet, Rope, and 10 locking carabiners
Three five-subject notebooks, 2 boxes of pens, book on Native American crafts, Army Survival Handbook
Extra clothes (three sets)
$50 in gold dollar coins
2 4-packs of Amp
I had the basic intro. I was given a laptop that supposedly included "Scriff technology." I spilled coffee into it, it exploded, I was exposed to the golden goo, and promptly keeled over.
I woke up on a volcanic island. A guy named Michael gave me the rundown. He also said that the more worlds you go through, the more Scriff you accumulate, and the more stuff sticks to you when you go (up to the point where one guy went through 2500 worlds and now takes his star-destroyer with him - fascinating). Then the island exploded.
I woke up - after a somewhat odd feeling of the worlds blending together - in the cargo hold of a ship. After failing to cast a simple Light spell and the disconcerting feeling of not being able to sense how big the space around me is (a rare failure of an innate ability), I made my way around until I found a ladder. Up I went, despite my acrophobia, to the deck above. I managed to avoid being spotted by a deck hand, and am currently sneaking around inside the ship.
This looks good. I've a few quick questions.
Are you the fellow who 1) put his character together in the "con suite" during lunchtime on Sunday, and 2) sat on my immediate left at the table in the last game session?
Do you remember whether the ship was wooden, with the sound of water, or of modern materials and without that sound? I think the former, but I decided I should check.
Is your name Harry, or is that short for Harold or something else? Do you have a middle name?
Welcome aboard.
Concerning this:
1@7 Psychometry (This is listed on my sheet as Mag 7@5 but I wonder if it's more Psionic)There are a number of considerations that go into that decision.
First, does the power come entirely from within yourself, or is it drawn from outside you somewhere, probably outside the universe entirely? That's the definitional difference between them.
My feeling, though, is that we have established that you have magic powers apart from this--you have the witchcraft religion skill, and this seems to tie into that, and you have the influence luck skill. You have no other psionic skills, and this would be a rather high level skill as a psionic skill (it's only a moderate level magic skill) which I would hesitate to include as an only psi skill--it seems unlikely that someone would have this particularly difficult psionic skill and nothing building to it.
Call it consistency of character, if you like: the fact that you have some other magic and no other psionics suggests that you're the sort of person who has magic and not psionics.
That's not a decisive answer, and if after all this you think that your psychometry comes from within and not from without, we can move it, lower your mag bias and raise your psi bias. I just think that it's probably not the case, and want this aspect taken into consideration.
As you sneak around inside the ship, what are you seeking and doing? What would catch your attention, or cause you to change your actions?
--M. J. Young
Yes, I am the fellow who sat on your immediate left like you described, and yes the ship was wooden with the sound of water. And yes I'm a Harry that isn't short for anything.
I savvy what you're saying about the Magic bit, but for my Psychometry (which is how I tell the sizes of rooms, read where exits are, and things like that) I specifically /don't/ call on any of my Witchcraft or Magic. I'm not sure if it comes entirely from inside or not, but there's no ritual in it - it's something I do almost reflexively, and it doesn't /feel/ like my Influence Luck or Witchcraft do, if that makes sense?
---
As I'm sneaking around inside the ship, I'm mostly trying to figure out what sort of place this is, and trying not to get my ass handed me by someone who would rather weren't on his ship. Signs of treasure, or rum, or anything that leads further up toward the deck, would draw my attention. I'll continue to try to hide if crew members go by, at least till I reach the deck. If I find the Captain's quarters, I'll try to go in. (I'll knock first.) If I'm caught and/or apprehended, that will of course change my actions.
O.K., I buy that it's psionic, not magic; that's an insightful distinction. Now I need to reconsider it, based on what it does.
What I'm hearing sounds like a sort of P3@1 Heightened Awareness, a psionic super-sensory ability to know your surroundings.
If this is correct, then I should have rolled for the use of the skill a few posts back when you were in the cargo hold; but let me know if this sounds right, or if there is more (or less) to it than that.
You move down the hall, and then hear someone coming. The door at the end is ajar, so you slip through it.
The man behind the desk in this room does not look up immediately; it is a large desk, covered with charts, logs, and more, but it is also a finely appointed office.
"It is customary to knock before entering," the man says, "even if the door is open."
--M. J. Young
The nail, the hammer, they have met, and it is glorious. That sounds perfect, and don't worry about the roll for it. The retcon wouldn't change anything either way.
I bow a little and swish my cloak when I do. "My apologies for the intrusion, of course. I did not realize I would be interrupting." Even while I keep my head lowered, I lift my eyes to look up at him, making sure, as best as I can, that he's not about to do something particularly nasty to me.
He looks up when you speak.
"You're not part of my crew. Who are you, and what are you doing on my boat?"
He doesn't sound particularly angry or threatening, but it is clear that he is a man in authority and not to be trifled with.
--M. J. Young
"My name is John," I answer fluidly, "John Sevenwind." It's a name I answer to regularly enough, between my political groups and internet friends all calling me by it, so it rolls out like it's genuine. Besides, this is a new life now. Time to not be bound by the name forced upon me.
As I say the words, I offer a flourish of my cloak once again. "I am a humble walker of the ways, and I find myself on your ship quite by accident. I mean you neither harm nor inconveniance, and pray I might beg your indulgence, at least so far as not to be flung overboard."
He signals to a chair near his desk.
"Well, John," he says, "that's certainly a good name, even if it's likely to cause some confusion around here at times. I'm certainly not the sort to throw a man overboard for an accident, and I'm not likely to maroon you on an island, either, assuming you actually aren't a scoundrel or villain here. I'm confused about one thing and unclear about another. The thing that confuses me is, what is a 'walker of the ways'? The other thing, and if these are related I guess that's why I didn't understand, but exactly what was the nature of this accident that landed you on my ship?"
--M. J. Young
I give him a smile, bow my head in gratitude, and take the offered seat. "It's just a phrase I picked up. It means someone who travels, in my case looking for the truth in life."
I have myself a look around his quarters while we talk. "As for how I got here... I don't entirely understand it myself yet. I thought I was going to die, and then I found myself in your cargo hold, quite a ways distant from where I was." A shrug, and then I focus on him again. "Can you tell me, Captain - for Captain I assume you are - what sort of ship is this?"
"Well, John, you are aboard the Mary Piper, a trading vessel out of Sardic. We pulled out of Emerald about ten days ago and are crossing the Syndic Ocean--the Greater Syndic, as some call it. Our next port is Durnmist, but I'm afraid you're aboard for a few months before we reach her. I'm guessing you're not from Emerald, as you don't have the look of a miner or trader about you; if you're from New Haven, it will be maybe a year before we can have you home, unless you pick up a ship from Durnmist going more directly there.
"So, you say you thought you were going to die. Were you attacked by someone?"
--M. J. Young
I shake my head. "It's been ten years since I called one place home, so I'm glad to wander as the wind wills, if you'll have me." I try to process these foreign place-names, and look around. Surely the Captain has a map in his room, probably on the desk right in front of me. I look at it - as if trying to figure out where the ship is, but mostly just trying to spot the places he's naming, if he didn't point them out to me on the map.
"And no, I was not attacked. There was an accident with a machine I was working on... A flash like lightning, and then..." I hold up my hands as if in utter helplessness, "And then I became as much of a mystery to myself as I am to you, though I must say my landing was a pleasant one, as I've often dreamed of going to sea, but never had the opportunity, eh, unintentional may it be."
"If I hear you aright, you're looking for a job. I'm ahead of schedule and so I'm ahead of budget, so I can probably give you a position aboard the ship. I'll want to run you by my department heads, or at least get the approval of whichever one you'll be working for. What can you do? Where on this ship are you likely to be able to contribute something meaningful? I mean, we can put you in as a deck hand, but you seem to be literate and cultured, so it's likely that you've some skill beyond moving crates."
The chart on top on the desk has what looks to be a large island to your left, the name written upside down, Emerald. The water closer to you says Lesser Syndic, and there appears to be a land mass near your with a marking for a port named New Haven. It is a wide expanse of water, but not near as wide as the one to the right of Emerald, marked Greater Syndic, extending off the opposite edge of the rather large map, and having a number of objects listed with question marks and notes indicating uncertainty in their location and/or size.
--M. J. Young
I shrug. "I can tie knots and pull ropes, but I cannot climb. I can fight, I can navigate... and yes I can lift crates. Anything you need done, I can learn. I've never been to sea before, so I do not know if I am suited particularly to any one job. I was perhaps hoping you could tell me..."
"Navigate, you say? Well, I would hesitate to put even an apprentice navigator in a deckhand's job."
He opens a hatch on a tube. "Security? This is the Captain. Who've I got there?"
"Davis, sir," a voice responds somewhat tinny and distant. "How can I help?"
"I need you to find Chief Navigator Donald and get him to my office."
"Aye, aye, captain."
The tube closes.
"So, John, where did you learn to navigate?"
--M. J. Young
I lean forward and look at the map, the places he pointed out to me earlier. Somewhat cursorily, as though I've seen them all before, but somewhat closely, as I try to pick out a specific place. Somewhere with islands...
"My uncle used to own a small fishing boat. He had a taste for the rum, especially after a big catch, so he made sure to teach me how to navigate, so I could always get the boat home when I would go out with his crew as a boy. It's been a long time, and it was never far out to sea, per se..."
It's close enough to true. I did have an uncle, and he did own a boat, and I can plot a course - sort of ((OOC: 1@3 by the grace of the gods))- and I managed to never run his boat into any rocks... Anyway, this sounds posh enough, and I learn quickly, so hopefully with the chief navigator's 'refresher course' I'll be good to go in no time.
Of course, I am also kind of digging my own grave at this point, so hopefully I can shut up about myself for a while, until the Chief Navigator gets here.
"While we wait, Captain, will you indulge me in the tale of your ship, or perhaps her good Captain? Is she your first command?"
There is actually precious little on this map--mostly open water in vast stretches. The only two places noted on land are Emerald, which might be an island or an outcropping of a continent that is off the map, and New Haven, which similarly might be the southern edge of a continent or a larger island. There is an area he did not message, marked Rough Passage as if it were a name of a place, which seems to be a maze of islands, shoals, perhaps reefs, of rather vast proportions, no channel marked through it. It would be a very long way from New Haven.
"Well, you're aboard the Mary Piper; she's Sardic Registry, part of the fleet of the Sardic Trading Company. I was first officer on another of their ships, the June Bug, which made short runs up and down the major cities of the old world, from Durnmist to Sardic. I'd also been in piloting and engineering in my younger days. They had an opening for a captain here a few years back, and I applied, and they liked my background, so here I am.
"We've got the long run, the full circle, pulling out of Sardic and hitting New Tempest, then feeling our way through Rough Passage to get to New Haven, then down to Emerald--the port that makes the journey worthwhile, since although the beasts there are pretty dangerous, the stone mined from the ground is highly valued throughout--well, I don't have to tell you the price of emeralds, I'm sure. We then cross the Greater Syndic, which is where we are now, to reach Durnmist, then Tempest, Tristar, Haven, Moon of Korg, and back to Sardic. Each port has exports we can buy cheaply and needs we can meet at a good price, but the emeralds are the big item."
There's a knock on the door. "Ah, that will be Donald. Come in."
A middle aged weathered but intelligent looking man enters. "Donald, this is John. He says he's done a little bit of navigating. He seems to have wound up on our ship by accident, but I'm thinking that if you can use the help in navigation and you think he can do it, I'll hire him on for the rest of the trip. He's yours for the afternoon; let me know what you think.
"Oh, and John--my offer is six and a half thousand diktar upon reaching Sardic; the alternative is I'll take you to Durnmist but you'll owe me a thousand diktar for passage. I'll want your answer by dinner tonight, but not before Donald here decides whether you can do the job."
--M. J. Young
I listen closely to what the Captain has to say. This sounds a bit like the old Clipper route, winding its way past Cape Horn and trying not to do so in bad weather. Good thing I passed Economics in high school, apparently.
When Donald comes in, just as the Captain introduces him, I rise and greet him with my right hand over my heart and a sort of bend, a bit deeper than a deep nod but not quite a bow, a greeting that ought to come off as both a bit foreign and slightly too formal. ((OOCly this is a greeting I use in similar conditions in real life, and it usually does come off as foreign but formal.))
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," I greet him, "I do hope I measure up."
Then, turning back to the captain, I give a slightly deeper bow, "I am grateful for the hospitality you have already shown me, Captain. If I can earn my place, I will be more than glad."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. So, where are you from, and where'd you learn to navigate?"
He holds the door open with an outstretched arm indicating you should pass through.
Whatever you answer, he will say either that he's been there many times but never had much chance to see the place, or that he's never heard of it but could tell you were from a foreign locale.
He escorts you up to the main deck. It's a gloriously warm sunny day and the masts are filled with wind. She's both square and lateen rigged, and making good headway under full sail, tacking slightly to starboard with a light rudder.
Donald leads to the aftcastle, up a deck, and into a large office-like room with many more charts spread on several considerably larger tables, compasses of both types, protractors, rulers, sextants, and telescopes, plus almanacs and other books.
"It's not a lot of work most of the time--a couple sightings a day, a couple more at night, to make sure we're on course. It's a little rougher when we're coming to port, of course, and not the least because the Captain wants to know when we'll arrive. Of course, Rough Passage is a nightmare, and once in a while we hit a storm, or some navigation hazard, that requires us to work together. Are you familiar with the instruments, and how are you in a crow's nest?"
--M. J. Young
Out on deck, I pull my hat low over my eyes. After all, it was night when the volcano went, and dark below deck, so the bright sun on my photosensitive eyes stings for most of the walk aft. Inside, I politely remove my hat and keep it under my arm until I find a safe place to put it.
In response to him asking about my origins, I'll answer noncomittally about wandering for a while and let him answer just as hollowly.
I listen to what he has to say, and try my level best not to turn visibly green at the mention of the crow's nest. It figures that the first world I poof into would involve heights... "I'm not afraid of hard work, but I'm not so much for climbing, to be honest. Heights in general... As for instruments, it's been a few years but I'm sure if you remind me of my basics and let me get in a little practice, I'll pick it right back up."
"Well, all right--we'll start with the telescope; and if you're good on the charts and good on the deck, we won't put you in the crow's nest. After all, you're the fourth on a three-man team, so whatever you can do is better than not having you at all."
He picks up a telescope as if about to explain it to you.
--M. J. Young
I listen and nod. "Anything I can contribute, I'll be glad to..."
Then I settle in. Obviously I know what a telescope is, but no reason to break the man's rhythm. Besides, making sure I know how a telescope works /here/ and how to use it for how they navigate is kinda life or death now...
Well, the telescope does telescope, the length of the scope adjusting the focus and magnification. It is used from high points--the forecastle, aftcastle, and crow's nest--to spot distant objects, particularly land masses and other ships, but also sometimes weather fronts and navigational hazards.
The sextant is used for sighting by triangulation, identifying the ship's latitude by the angle between the deck and particular celestial objects, for example, or by calculating the angles to multiple shore points to establish the distance from shore. Tripods used with them have plumb bobs and centering rings, so that level can be determined.
The compass points north, to a magnetic north, not a rotational one; this makes it possible to use it with the sextant to establish an angle to a single shore point.
The other compass, of course, is for drawing arcs on charts, and for copying distances accurately; the protractors for copying angles, rulers for measuring straight distances and drawing straight lines. There are a few other tools used on the charts, along with pencils.
Donald is trying to figure out how much of this you already know; you seem to be letting him tell you everything, unless I've misread your intent here.
--M. J. Young
I've seen every single one of these used - yes including a sextant, although that one has been a while. I'm letting him tell me everything mostly as not to break his rhythm, but I'm also doing my best not to come off like a green recruit. Most of the way I learn things comes from him going "So you point the telescope ..." and I'll cut in, "and it makes things look bigger if it's focused right." Interruptions can be annoying, but at least he sees when I know what I'm about, and when I'm close-but-not-quite. Most of the time I spend nodding in understanding.
To be honest I never figured out that using-a-compass-to-copy-distances thing until just now...
I do understand how a magnetic compass works, and triangulation is one of the things I used to be really good at in math class (of course I don't say it that way).
One thing I hope me mentions - but I'm not going to ask as not to give away that I'm not from around here - is how to navigate by the stars. I somehow doubt knowing about Polaris and Ursa Major are going to help me very much here...
He mentioned triangulating against celestial objects, and you've already noticed the almanacs and other books.
As far as not tipping your hand that you're "not from around here", it occurs to you that you cannot see either Polaris or Ursa Major from the southern hemisphere--and thus it is not unreasonable for someone from Australia to be unfamiliar with these, just as most people at my latitude have never seen the Southern Cross or Cygnus (if memory serves).
However, if you want lessons in astronomy, you're going to have to ask about it.
--M. J. Young
Oh bloody Hell...
As this unfortunate fact dawns on me, I wonder in an absent sort of way whether or not this planet HAS a Southern Hemisphere, one with land on it, land with countries on it that have people from them, people who aren't hated enemies of the country whose ship Mary Piper is, etc. etc. Because that would be my luck...
But he did mention triangulating off of celestial bodies, so I imagine I'll see exactly which ones he means in due time, and I'm not exactly itching to spend more time trying not to make an ass of myself just now.
Anyway, having proven myself at the very least not too ignorant to be taught, I listen to the rest of his explainations, then give him back the Reader's Digest version to show that I have caught on. "What say you, then? Do you suppose you and your fine captain could be persuaded to keep me on?"
"Oh, you're pretty solid. You can read, find your way around a chart, understand which end is which on the scope. I'll thank the captain for the extra help, and for the next few weeks you'll be sharing shifts with each of us, until I'm comfortable that you know what you're doing. I don't see Brian or Dooley complaining about six hour shifts instead of eight. Of course, part of the job is you're on call constantly--if we encounter trouble, we'll want all hands to help direct things.
"I'll get someone to string a hammock; let me show you navigator's quarters."
On the way he tells someone, apparently a deck hand, to let the captain know he's keeping you, and to tell engineering you'll need a hammock.
You're down on the same deck as the captain's quarters, but in a room a touch smaller with two other hammocks. Someone, introduced as Dooley, is asleep in one of them.
"I don't guess you've much in the way of gear," he says, "but we'll get you a locker for when that changes." You already see two trunks along the wall; they're not locked, but are latched.
"I should show you the galley, too, as you'll need to eat. There's usually something there when you need it, but make sure you catch meals when you can, or you'll be hungry."
The galley is on a lower level aft; there are hard biscuits in a bowl on a table next to a keg of what is apparently beer, or something like it, and another of water.
--M. J. Young
I thank him for his evaluation, and promise to do my best to pitch in with the others.
Indeed, I don't have much gear - just my backpack, and I don't imagine I need a cloak if it's not raining or windy. Stow all that, plus my backpack. I'll keep my hat to keep the sun out of my eyes, and I'll keep my swordbelt on unless Donald tells me not to. Can't be too careful, either way.
It's been four days since I first Versed out, so when I get a moment to myself I'll want to drink a can of Amp, to keep my caffeine addiction from giving me headaches and negatively affecting my mood. By the same token, I'm not about to pop open a tin can on a ship from the age of sail. I don't need a "The Gods Must Be Crazy" ...
In the galley, I don't entirely trust the water on a ship. Who knows if this world even knows about germ theory? With my luck I'll wind up with the Plague. I'll have a couple of biscuits and a mug of beer, and when he sends that messenger to tell the Captain about me I'll include again my thanks to them both.
Just for the heck of it - because if I'm really some sort of worlds-spanning immortal there must be something cool to it, or what the hell am I doing out here? - I occasionally try my luck at telekinesis.
Whenever nobody is looking (as I really would rather avoid the "WTF?" that would result from this actually working while somebody happens to be looking), I'll try to do some small thing, like drag a compass into my hand from six inches away or unroll a map without touching it. This will obviously be psionic, and I'll go through the visualization of trying to project my will as a hand and move things with the hand that is my mind.
Upon seeing your sword, Donald will ask whether you've got a military or security background, but whatever you answer, the fact that you know how to use the weapon is a plus in his mind. Since pirates are entirely too common, having a weapon at hand is a good thing.
Your suggestion concerning telekinesis seems to be that you are going to attempt to get hold of an object with your mind and maneuver it where you want it. That would mean that you are going to grasp the compass with your mind and slide it or lift it to your hand, that you are going to take hold of the map and change its shape from rolled to flat. Does this correctly characterize what you are attempting, or is there more variety in your experiments? There are obviously many things that might be done telekinetically, some more difficult than others, and I want to give you a fair chance of accomplishing those which you're actually attempting.
--M. J. Young
Pretty much, yes, but by "change its shape" I mean "poke it till it unrolls." And yes, dragging the compass into my hand with my mind. It's really all stuff you could do with your thumb and index-finger.
I tell him I have some military in my family, and that my grandfather taught me the sword. If pirates are a legitimate concern, I'll keep my sword on me.
You can't actually grab anything with your mind, but you do find after a few attempts that you can poke at things--not terribly reliably, but sometimes.
I see a 1@7 Intuition, but do not yet have numbers on your persuasion or will power; any thoughts on these?
You are introduced to the other navigators over the next day, but working day shift with the Chief Navigator for the present.
--M. J. Young
(OOCly, I'm really quite persuasive. I was on the debate team in high school, I'm a published political writer now (editor of NYRA Freedom, a monthly newsletter read on four continents), and people generally believe me, but my "persuasion" is more "manipulation" than "bluff." I'm not a good on-the-spot liar - I have no poker face - but I'm a master of the long con and getting others to do what I want. As for willpower, I can keep myself awake for days on end by force of will alone, my willpower is sufficient that I don't often give in to temptation, and peer pressure is meaningless to me. People often describe me as stubborn.)
I greet the other navigators in my usual slightly-too-polite, somewhat-foreign way.
I take my meals whenever I can, like Donald advised, and make conversation with anyone who cares to. If I hear anyone singing working songs, sea shanties, and the like, I listen in - they're a bit of a hobby of mine (1@8 Renfair Songs? *grin*).
I'll do my work diligently to the best of my abilities. No slacking, and I pay attention to whatever the chief tells me to do. When I am not on shift, I spend half of my free waking hours studying charts and maps, and the other half... goofing off, knowing me. Playing my flute, or not, wandering the ship, or not. I'm really quite restless.
When it comes time to sleep, I watch how the others handle their clothes, and do likewise with mine, even if it means sleeping in them unwashed. Gotta get used to the road sooner or later.
Before I sleep, I say my prayers to my Pagan gods, thanking Loki for the turn my fortunes have taken, Thor for protecting me on my now unending journey, Odin for the wisdom to handle myself well. The Gods Who Travel have always seen me through, so I give them my thanks, my prayers always spoken with sword in hand. They are Viking gods after all.
Because Asatru has no god of the sea that I'm aware of, and I'm eclectic anyway, I also offer a quiet prayer to Poseidon through whose realm I find myself passing, that my passage should be safe and my captain should be strong. At the end of dinner, I pour half of my mug of beer overboard as an offering to him.
In conjunction with my offering to Poseideon, I invoke my Influence Luck ability on behalf of Donald, then again on behalf of the Captain, focusing on each of them for a good ten minutes a piece.
Of course, once I notice that I can actually poke things with my mind, I keep doing it, every chance I get, till I can poke things like I mean it.
Noting the music skill; how good are you on the flute?
You're starting to get the hang of things. Your skills include Maps, Operate Small Boat, First Aid, Operate Sextant, Drafting Tools, Magnetic Compass, Telescope, and Climb Rigging (comparable to rope ladders), which you have to do at least a bit of even though Donald is keeping you low to the ground.
Of these, in which do you already have some skill, and how much? These skills will improve as part of your ordinary duties aboard the ship, at various rates.
--M. J. Young
--M. J. Young
I am Red Cross certified for community first aid, and adult, infant, and child CPR. (high 1@'s - low 2@'s)
I have a bit of experience with sextants and drafting tools, and I own and can operate a telescope. (mid 1@'s)
Everything else I'm a rank amateur, including the flute. (I can play scales and that's about it.) (low 1@'s)
I'm going to focus on climbing the rigging and moving around on ropes, trying my level best to not be scared out of my mind, but I really can't get more than about a yard off the deck without a panic attack.
I'm putting these skills on your sheet at this point:
- 1@8 Medical Diagnosis T7@0
1@10 First Aid/CPR T7@1
1@1 Make/Use Maps P0@0
1@1 Operate Small Boat T3@1
1@4 Operate Sextant/Astrolabe T6@1
1@6 Use Drafting Tools T6@1
1@1 Use Magnetic Compass T6@1
1@7 Use Telescope T6@2
1@2 Irish Bamboo Flute M0@0
1@1 Climb (Rigging) B1@3
Two weeks to the day after you are aboard, you are off duty around four in the afternoon and getting food in the galley when one of the deck hands comes in and announces that everyone awake is to report to stations. Donald is also at dinner; he says, "I guess I'd better find out what it's about. Finish your meal, if you like, and then get topside to navigation. By then I should know something."
--M. J. Young
(Oh how I do love these updates! I hang on them, you know - I check these boards every half hour or so that I'm online. I guess that's kind-of sad, actually...)
As is my usual habit, I am wearing my swordbelt. Ever since Donald said the word 'pirates' its never been out of arm's reach. When the message comes down, I listen intently. By the time Donald speaks, I'm already washing down my food with a swig of beer. "Captain's not paying me to eat. If there's trouble, I belong with you and the others, or else I'm a damn shoddy assistant."
When he gets up to go, I get up to go with him.
(It occurs to me, I ought to be building up perhaps a 1@3 - 1@5-ish resistance to alcohol by now. My lack of trust in the water has led me to drinking rather more beer than I'm normally used to, so my resistance is probably slowly beginning to build up. Likewise, I've probably been suffering detox headaches from lack of caffeine over a two-week span, unless someone on board happens to have coffee...)
Ah, well, traditionally there's always been coffee (and tea) available aboard the Mary Piper. No one is saying it's good, but if you're trying to stay awake and forestall a headache, it's what people drink. Besides, the food is made by the medical department, so they will encourage you to eat and drink things that keep you running.
You follow Donald up to the navigation office; Brian is there.
"Sir," he says, "we've got trouble. There's a nasty squall moving in from the northwest, and we're going to sail right into it, pretty much no matter what we do."
He hands the telescope to Donald, who looks out the starboard hatch. "Yes, you're absolutely right, Brian. John, go wake Dooley; Brian, secure these hatches; last thing we want is a flood in the map room. There's not much we can do with this storm except ride it out and hope we can keep track of where we are."
Dooley is the other man in navigation; he shares quarters with you.
--M. J. Young
"Right," I say, and hop to it. Open the door, down the steps, down the hall, door on the left.
If Dooley has a blanket, I try my level best to TK Pulse it off of him. Whether that works or not I'll nudge him awake. "Dooley! Wake up and get topside. There's weather, and Donald needs us all sharp." While I'm in here, I grab my heavily waterproofed black Jedi cloak and wrap myself in, then - once Dooley wakes up - get back to the deck.
By the time you return to the deck, Captain John is on the forecastle overseeing things.
"I need medics and engineers standing by; all deckhands on deck, let's turn south by southwest and see how far we can skirt this thing before it catches us. Mr. Stanis, you're on the helm for the moment, and the rest of the pilots down here directing the deck hands on the sails. I want full sail and light rudder; speed might get us past this, or at least see us through it sooner.
"Navigation, we need to know our position, and we need to know what obstacles are charted, particularly to the south. I'll need someone in the crows nest until the storm is almost upon us, and watches on the fore and aftcastles. If you need help, tap security. Mr. Balcon, consider yourself assigned to assist navigation for the moment; but we might need help with the sails and the rudder once this thing hits, so keep an ear open."
The wind is rising, and it's not terribly favorable; but the lateen sail (the triangular one that can be rotated to catch the wind from any direction) has been positioned to take the best advantage possible, and the slightly southward heading is putting you at right angles to the wind, a direction that works for the lateen sail but not for the square ones. There's lots of shouting on the deck.
"Dooley," Donald shouts, "grab a telescope and a compass and get up that mast. Brian, you take the forecastle; John, you're on the aftcastle. Report anything out there--land, ships, even wreckage--and get me an accurate angle by the compass, and get me the information as quickly as you can."
He starts pulling charts out and tossing them on the tables even as he's giving orders.
The sky is darkening.
--M. J. Young