Round 2: Note that this is before Thug 6 ran over Darvin, pushing him South a bit. Thug 6 is now standing where Darvin was, and Darvin is directly between Beranhond and Thug 6.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Slap-Happy?
The man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Impolite, eh? Well, she be th' one that caused th' tsunami. Ye be havin' me word on that? Aye, seems reason enough t' burn th' lass'. We be havin' t' appease th' gods. They struck us an' th' city down after we allowed a lass onboard. She needs t' sink t'Davy Jones' locker so th' gods can be appeased."
After Beranhond barged in with his questions, the man answered, "There be 8 that survived th' tsunami, an' we be all goin' t' grab ye an' meet th' captain at th' ship."
From beside Beranhond, Scriptus and Codex yelled, "Look out!" as a roaring yell erupted behind the group and 3 vicious looking men charged out of the crowd.
From beside Beranhond, Scriptus and Codex yelled, "Look out!" as a roaring yell erupted behind the group and 3 vicious looking men charged out of the crowd.
Players: Please roll initiative.
Roasty Toasties
Looking horrified, Nym takes a step back from the man. "Burn me alive? That's... impolite." She says, distracted as she peers off toward the Sea Star obviously nervous about this.
riddles by the seashore
Beranhond stifles a laugh, before trying to sound more grounded and pleasant.
"She didn't cause the tsunami - powerful spells from within the city caused the Tsunami. How many more remain on your ship?"
"She didn't cause the tsunami - powerful spells from within the city caused the Tsunami. How many more remain on your ship?"
Afire?
In response to Nym's question, the man said, "Well, ye be seein', we set up a pyre o'er thar by th' Sea Star," he gestured downriver, to where a ship could be seen about 200 yards distant, "Usin' our old mast, th' one that broke, an' we be goin' t' burn ye fer bewitchin' th' sea an' causin' th' tsunami."
What A Charming Half-Elf
A satisfied smile spread across Nym's face as she noted the affect of her spell. Nym smoothly kicked at the man's rapier, but he was already in the act of sheathing it. Her kick missed, spinning her around in a tight circle, but she was able to maintain her balance and make it seem like an odd twirl. Pretty as a girl? Do I know him? I don't remember him from the Sea Star...
Sense Motive
(1d20)-1
8-1
7
Other than that they had obviously been trying to capture her, Nym couldn't think of any reason these five men would have wanted to take her captive. Nym looked around at her companions, uncertain what to say or do next.
"You can lower your weapons. Mr... ah... Rapierist means us no harm anymore, do you?"
Nym turned back to the man, smiling. "Well, friend, what exactly were you going to capture me for?"
Sense Motive
(1d20)-1
8-1
7
Other than that they had obviously been trying to capture her, Nym couldn't think of any reason these five men would have wanted to take her captive. Nym looked around at her companions, uncertain what to say or do next.
"You can lower your weapons. Mr... ah... Rapierist means us no harm anymore, do you?"
Nym turned back to the man, smiling. "Well, friend, what exactly were you going to capture me for?"
Let the Man Speak
As Nym begins casting her spell (Charm person) the rapierist, aware of the odds against him and sweating profusely, lunges at her in a desperate attempt to stop whatever it is she was doing. "I`ll get ye if 'tis th' last thin' I do!" As he swung, his grip on the rapier slipped in his clammy grip. Barely managing to hold onto the weapon, the blade bounced harmlessly off the ground as Nym's spell took hold.
A broad grin cracked on the man's face as he looked at Nym. "Ahoy Nym! Ye look pretty as a girl. Me an' th' boys be tryin' t' capture ye."
Rapierist - Attack of Opportunity:Roll(1d20)+4:
8,+4
Total:12
Rapierist - Will Save:Roll(1d20)+5:
8,+5
Total:13 (+5 because he's being threatened by your companions.)
A broad grin cracked on the man's face as he looked at Nym. "Ahoy Nym! Ye look pretty as a girl. Me an' th' boys be tryin' t' capture ye."
Rapierist - Attack of Opportunity:Roll(1d20)+4:
8,+4
Total:12
Rapierist - Will Save:Roll(1d20)+5:
8,+5
Total:13 (+5 because he's being threatened by your companions.)
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Sex Rules Final
After having received input from all the players about how much they would enjoy having more rules for sexual encounters, I have decided on a 3-tiered rule system. I know it sounds complicated, but I think you will find it will be better than just using full-blown rules for every encounter. These rules go into effect immediately for all future posts, but are not being applied retroactively to any posts that have already been written.
Skills:
The key skill for sexual encounters is "Sexual Prowess." Ranks in "Sexual Prowess" contribute to a character's ability to perform in bed, but have the effect of increasing the "Arousal Check DC," making it more difficult to seduce a character with a lot of sexual prowess. Also, for each rank a character has in "Sexual Prowess," they may add 1 "Sexual Trick," from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Note that Sexual Tricks will only be used for Tier 3 rules. Here is a table for how "Sexual Prowess" affects the Arousal Check DC.
Tier 1: Seduction:
For the first time a character attempts a seduction, a seduction role must happen. If a character develops a long-standing sexual relationship, they may roll to make the other character a fuck-buddy, but until they have successfully achieved that status, they must roll for seduction every time. Note that sleeping with a prostitute is not considered a seduction, but a business transaction.
Rules:
To seduce a character, all that is required is to beat their Arousal Check DC (Starts at 10) with one of the following skills or abilities:
Fuck-Buddy Rules:
Instead of a roll for Seduction, you may attempt a roll to become "Fuck-Buddies." This roll is an Arousal check with a DC of: 25 + Character's "Arousal Check DC Modifier."
For each sexual encounter that has been a "Simple Sexual Encounter" (Tier 2) of performance quality "Enjoyable Experience" or better, the character adds the "impression bonus" from the encounter to this check. For each "Fully Roleplayed Sexual Encounter" (Tier 3), the character gets a +5 bonus.
If a "Fuck-Buddy Check" is failed, the character has failed at persuading their partner to make it a regular thing, and the character gets a -5 penalty to future "Seduction" and "Fuck-Buddy" checks.
Tier 2: Simple Sexual Encounter:
For encounters where the player does not want to roleplay the entire sexual encounter, the following rules may be used. This is to ensure that players who are uncomfortable, uninterested, or simply too busy may quickly and easily roll to see how they performed for the evening. These rules come from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.
Rules:
The player announces he is going to give his partner the night of her life and then rolls a skill check for Sexual Prowess and checks it against the following table for DCs and results:
The DM should feel free to apply any situational bonuses or penalties befitting the circumstances. Also, the DM may wish to subtract the partner’s ranks in Sexual Prowess from the character’s Sexual Prowess check result. After all, what is Memorable to a simple farmer’s daughter (1 rank of Sexual Prowess) might be merely Enjoyable to a lusty barmaid (5 ranks of Sexual Prowess), or even Routine to a seasoned prostitute (15 ranks of Sexual Prowess). Alternately, both partners may make opposed skill checks in a contest to see who is the better lover.
Tier 3: Fully Roleplayed Sexual Encounters:
For situations where a player or players wish to roleplay an entire sexual encounter, they may use the rules from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Scenario 2, on page 18, is a good example of how this could work.
Skills:
The key skill for sexual encounters is "Sexual Prowess." Ranks in "Sexual Prowess" contribute to a character's ability to perform in bed, but have the effect of increasing the "Arousal Check DC," making it more difficult to seduce a character with a lot of sexual prowess. Also, for each rank a character has in "Sexual Prowess," they may add 1 "Sexual Trick," from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Note that Sexual Tricks will only be used for Tier 3 rules. Here is a table for how "Sexual Prowess" affects the Arousal Check DC.
| Check Result | Arousal Check DC Modifier |
| 9 or less | +0 |
| 10 – 14 | +2 |
| 15 – 19 | +4 |
| 20 – 24 | +6 |
| 25 – 29 | +8 |
| 30 – 34 | +9 |
| 35 – 39 | +10 |
| 40 – 44 | +11 |
| 45 – 49 | +12 |
| 50+ | +13 |
Tier 1: Seduction:
For the first time a character attempts a seduction, a seduction role must happen. If a character develops a long-standing sexual relationship, they may roll to make the other character a fuck-buddy, but until they have successfully achieved that status, they must roll for seduction every time. Note that sleeping with a prostitute is not considered a seduction, but a business transaction.
Rules:
To seduce a character, all that is required is to beat their Arousal Check DC (Starts at 10) with one of the following skills or abilities:
- Bluff
- Diplomacy
- Perform (Dance)
- Charisma
Fuck-Buddy Rules:
Instead of a roll for Seduction, you may attempt a roll to become "Fuck-Buddies." This roll is an Arousal check with a DC of: 25 + Character's "Arousal Check DC Modifier."
For each sexual encounter that has been a "Simple Sexual Encounter" (Tier 2) of performance quality "Enjoyable Experience" or better, the character adds the "impression bonus" from the encounter to this check. For each "Fully Roleplayed Sexual Encounter" (Tier 3), the character gets a +5 bonus.
If a "Fuck-Buddy Check" is failed, the character has failed at persuading their partner to make it a regular thing, and the character gets a -5 penalty to future "Seduction" and "Fuck-Buddy" checks.
Tier 2: Simple Sexual Encounter:
For encounters where the player does not want to roleplay the entire sexual encounter, the following rules may be used. This is to ensure that players who are uncomfortable, uninterested, or simply too busy may quickly and easily roll to see how they performed for the evening. These rules come from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.
Rules:
The player announces he is going to give his partner the night of her life and then rolls a skill check for Sexual Prowess and checks it against the following table for DCs and results:
| DC | Performance |
| 1-5 | Disappointing Experience – You failed to satisfy your partner, and generally left him or her wanting more. You suffer a –1 penalty to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 1d4 days. |
| 10 | Routine Experience - You both achieved satisfaction, and that is always good, as we all know. But it was nothing remarkable. |
| 15 | Enjoyable Experience - You exhibited a bit more flair then the standard lover and may have even showed your partner a new trick. +1 impression bonus to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 1d4 days |
| 20 | Great Experience - Multiple orgasms were definitely involved in the evening, and you have definitely made an impression on all but the most jaded of lovers. With time, you may develop a local reputation as a lover of some skill. +2 impression bonus to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 1d4 days. |
| 25 | Memorable Experience – Even the most jaded of lovers would be impressed by the sexual skill you have demonstrated. With time, you may develop a regional reputation as a lover of noticeable skill. +3 impression bonus to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 2d4 days. |
| 30 | Extraordinary Experience - You just may be the best lover your partner has ever had--you certainly gave them one of the greatest experiences of their lives! With time, you may develop a national reputation as a lover of great skill. +4 impression bonus to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 1d4 weeks. |
| 40 | Religious Experience - Things were done in the bedroom that are the stuff of legends and ribald pornographic etchings! The gods and goddesses of lust would be proud of you. In time, you may even draw their notice and be whisked away to visit them! +5 bonus to Charisma-related checks when dealing with this person for the next 1d4 weeks. |
The DM should feel free to apply any situational bonuses or penalties befitting the circumstances. Also, the DM may wish to subtract the partner’s ranks in Sexual Prowess from the character’s Sexual Prowess check result. After all, what is Memorable to a simple farmer’s daughter (1 rank of Sexual Prowess) might be merely Enjoyable to a lusty barmaid (5 ranks of Sexual Prowess), or even Routine to a seasoned prostitute (15 ranks of Sexual Prowess). Alternately, both partners may make opposed skill checks in a contest to see who is the better lover.
Tier 3: Fully Roleplayed Sexual Encounters:
For situations where a player or players wish to roleplay an entire sexual encounter, they may use the rules from the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Scenario 2, on page 18, is a good example of how this could work.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Tokens
Hello everyone! Rather than go to sleep as I should have done, I made you all tokens. I hope you like them.
Beranhond:
Darvin:
Gurkirat:
Nym:
Talathel:
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Sex Rules
As there has been some interest shown, here are two books on sex in D&D for you to read. Let me know if you think they are worth implementing. I especially enjoy the "Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge," though its rules are rather complicated.
Of these, I have only read the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, like I said, and so can't yet say which I would rather use, but they all have strengths and weaknesses. :) Let me know what you think.
Of these, I have only read the Book of Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, like I said, and so can't yet say which I would rather use, but they all have strengths and weaknesses. :) Let me know what you think.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Party Time
As they arrive at Hring's mansion, they can see musicians and revelers spilling out the front doors into the streets outside. Everyone is dressed in bright, colorful, flowing outfits, many with feathers and beads adorning both clothing and small tiaras and crowns. The group slowly presses their way through the throng to the front door, where they are immediately spotted by Hring, who yells, "THE HEROES HAVE ARRIVED!"
A vast sea of heads turns expectantly toward the door, and the happy merriment becomes an expectant, joyous whisper as a surge towards the heroes pushes them back into the streets. Faces the adventurers know push their way toward them, and suddenly,Darvin finds himself raised on the shoulders of Thjodolf and Arngrim. He beams with happiness at seeing his favorite half-orc friend, and Arngrim gets a big smile as well. As the others in the party watch Darvin lifted up, they find themselves raised above the crowd as well.Talathel is lifted next, on the shoulders of Lofa and Aldaho, followed by Gurkirat on Hench 1 and Hench 2's shoulders, and Beranhond on the shoulders of Scriptus and Codex, who playfully pretend they are about to drop him before steadying him and laughing heartily. Nym gets a bit nervous and uncomfortable about everyone else being raised up on other people's shoulders, but Starks whispers something in her ear that makes her blush, and she is on his shoulder and the shoulder of another guard from the mansion before she knows it. Soon she is giggling with glee as she watches Darvin try to show off with what he thinks are dashing poses for the benefit of her and the crowd.
The heroes are paraded around in a circle for a bit, cheered on by the merrymakers around them, and Hring is able to make his way to them through the crowd, grabbing Darvin's hand and pumping his arm in a vigorous handshake. As the cheering starts to subside a bit,Hring again shouts, "To the parade!" and the air fills with whoops and yells.
Talathel leans towards Hring and asks, "Parade? What parade?"
Hring laughs, "It's nothing to worry about, my elfin friend. The evening will have three main phases. We will begin with a parade, then the city council will make a presentation to you, followed by general revelry and merriment as we party by the shore of the river."
Overhearing the conversation, Gurkirat chimed in, "The city council wants to make a presentation? Is that common?"
Looking over at the gnome, Hring answered, "No. It's not. But when I brought them the heads of Rhora and Ramman, they were very grateful that you took the problem out of their hands. Also, they think of this as an opportunity to take everyone's minds off of the earthquake and tsunami and instead celebrate something good for once. They are latching onto you as a bright hope for the future."
Beranhond decided to put in his two bits. "Is there a reason we're leaving without the halfling?"
Hring seemed a bit surprised by the question. "You mean he didn't tell you?" Getting no response to the semi-rhetorical question, Hring continued, "A letter from Grumbleshanks arrived on my desk, 6 days ago now. He explained that he hates crowds and that it was time for him to be heading off on his own. I'm rather surprised he didn't at least let all of you know."
At this point, Arngrim spoke up. "Actually, I have a letter here for Gurkirat. Grumbleshanks left it with me for him." He gestured to Thjodolf, and the two walked closer to Gurkirat, and Arngrim reached into his jacket, pulled out a letter, and handed it up to the gnome.
Gurkirat ripped the letter open, and quickly read the letter. After reading it, he said, "It's as Hring says. Grumbleshanks has decided that his journey to become a man will be easier without all of us tagging along. He set off 4 days ago by ship. He wishes me the best."
Nym interrupted, "You mean the halfling's gone? That seems awfully sudden. Are you sure nothing happened to him? What if he was kidnapped by an evil prince from a faraway kingdom? Or maybe dragons are forcing him to slave away in their diamond mines! Oh no! He's a captive of dragons now! This is terrib-"
Arngrim cut Nym off. "He seemed perfectly fine when he handed me the letter. I think he just needed to travel alone."
Nym was not quite so easily dissuaded, "Are you sure? I mean, he could have been under a spell of some sort. Maybe he was just acting that way because a powerful wizard was threatening to take his family away from him and he really likes his family so he was trying to take care of them by saying goodbye to us, and---"
Again, Arngrim interrupted, "I'm pretty sure he was just being himself. He grumbled something about how I should make sure the prophet didn't steal too much."
Nym quietly responded with, "Oh."
At this point, the group made it to the Northeast gates into the city, and they were lowered from the shoulders of the men carrying them to the ground. The parade appeared to be a large, festive occasion, and there were many large decorated carriages lined up at the gates, the horses and drivers all dressed up in fancy livery for the occasion, glittering in the light of torches and the setting sun. The reddish orange glow bathed the city, making it look like a painting by an artist who only had one color in his palette, but intended to dazzle the world with that one color. The group found themselves escorted to acart at the end of the procession, decorated with dark blues and greens, imitating the ocean. There was the prow of a ship built onto the cart, as well, with stairsclevely hidden in the waves up onto the deck. The 8 horses drawing the cart were covered in heraldry that made them look something like mer-horses. The heroes were ushered up onto the small ship, and with a great deal of fanfare and cheers, the parade began.
The parade wound its way across the city to a large platform that had been constructed in the northwestern corner of the city by where the river met the outer walls. As they arrived, there were 5 men and 2 women standing on the platform.
"Must be the city council," Darvin commented to nobody in particular.
The other carriages peeled off, one by one, gradually creating a kind of perimeter fence in a semi-circle around the platform. The ship and waves cart the adventurers were on pulled up to the platform, where they stepped off the cart, and it was pulled away.
As the cart pulled out of the semicircle and onto the street, one of the two women stepped to the front of the platform and raised a hand, gesturing for silence from the crowd. The sullenly quieted their cheers, as if upset that she would think to ask them to quiet down now, of all times. As the volume in the area decreased, she raised her voice and addressed the group, "People of Baldur's Gate, the times are in are dark indeed." She paused, as if thinking of all the things that had gone wrong recently. After a moment of silence, she continued, "These brave adventurers came here from across Faerun, to help us, to be a light for us here." The crowd erupted in cheering, needing to be quieted again before she could continue. "They have eradicated the infestation of vermin living under our fair city, and seen to it that we will not be troubled any longer by the fear that our children might disappear from their play, victims of the wererat queen Rhora or her minions." Another eruption of cheering punctuated this comment. "To recognize their bravery and service to Baldur's Gate, I give them this ring," with this she held up a large signet ring over her head, "Bearing the crest of the city, and entrust them with its safekeeping." She turned to the adventurers and addressed them directly at this point. "Take this token of our gratitude, and know that where you show this, if any children of the city are present, they should give you aid." She walked over to Darvin, who was standing closest, and placed it in his hand. "Use it well, and wisely." With that, she turned around and said to the crowd, "I invite you all to celebrate this night. A cheer for the brave adventurers who saved our city!" The crowd thundered their applause at this point, causing the adventurers a bit of humble discomfort (except for Darvin, who thought this might be the chance to prove himself a mighty pirate.).
Beranhond whispered to Darvin, who was standing next to him, "If we're going to be adventuring together for much longer, we really should come up with a name for the group."
Darvin nodded his agreement, not taking his eyes off the crowd. "Yeah. Anything is better than 'the brave adventurers who saved our city'."
The crowd decided at this point that it was time to begin partying, and from the carriages, bottles of wine, kegs of beer and food of many varieties began appearing. Some of the people in the crowd began coming up to thank the adventurers, but many of them headed straight for the food. The party had just begun.
And thus begins Chapter 1.3 of Stormspout.
Earning a learning the only way I know how
Gurkirat's ten days by himself is be best summarized by a timeline starting at the first tavern he entered and ending as he staggered out of the last just prior to the party.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As he split from the rest of the group, Gurkirat gave himself an experimental sniff. Pffeew! The mixture of sweat, sewer, and rat blood was not a pleasant pheremone. He looked at his clarinet and decided against sticking it into his mouth for a whole evening. Guess I'll be dancing and juggling the night away.
The nearest tavern was only a block from the sewer exit and it would have been right at home in the sewer itself. The whitewash was faded where it existed at all, and the door was jammed open and rusted to the point of being frozen in place. The steps leading up to the door were so filled in with dirt from shoes that they were more of a slide that stairs. As a consolation, the sounds coming from within had the universal sound of coarse cheeriness and excess consumption. Entering the bar, he flourished with his cape that wasn't there, and gave a bow to the bartender, a large man with a face ... Gurkirat tried not to look at his face too closely. To this end, he suggested they negotiate reibursement after the performance. Naturally, this wasn't a spoken agreement but rather implied as he marched to the center of the room and began his performance. At least he assumed payment was in the bargain, but perhaps it wasn't considering how the night turned out.
Perform (comedy): 12+7=19
It went well, considering the activities earlier in the day. It appeared the crowd and bartender enjoyed the show too, but had probably been years since they had seen a bard if ever. However, as he returned to the bartender to negotiate a bit of recompense, he was given a large glass of something foul and shoved up the stairs to a room on the upper floor. Inside was the spitting image of the bartender, but in woman form. .... and naked! He looked at the bartenders grinning face, the naked form in the bed. I've had worse ... I think. He chugged the foul beverage and acted as grateful as he could manage.
--
After the debacle that was the first night Gurkirat decided he would stick to the clarinet for a while. Although he was forced to admit that the shemale was quite amazing in the bed. How could she have enough practice to get that good, he was forced to wonder before he could dash the image of where she had been from his mind. Yech.
Leaving the place as early as could be managed he decided to bath himself in the ocean and then find a more reputable establishment. And negotiate the terms before the night, no matter how the bartender may appear, he reminded himself. A physical and mental cleaning proved to be the medicine he needed and his musicality in the middle class establishment that night was very good although it did take a turn for the worse near the end as the number of drinks caught up with his fingers. He noted mentally that getting paid in drinks probably wasn't the best idea from now on.
Perform (wind): 14+7=21
-------------------------------
The following two nights were a blur of drunkeness, sex, and fantastic music. Probably the best nights of his life, truth be told.
Perform (wind): 18+7=25
Perform (wind): 15+7=22
-----------------------------------------
The middle nights were more a blur than anything else. The success of the previous nights encouraged Gurkirat to move up into the higher end districts of town, but these failed to match the two nights of revelry leading up. Sure, these ladies might look nice on the outside, and smell good too, but they just didn't have the fire of spirit that the workin ladies had. Too much blushy blushy, not enough sucky fucky. Sure there was one great night where he was able to prove that his dexterity was equal on the dance floor and in the sack. But all the skill demonstrated that night was his while the woman could have been replaced by a sack of potatoes. A beautiful sack of potatoes, admittedly, but seriously!
Perform (comedy): 8+7=15
Perform (comedy): 13+7=20
Perform (wind): 10+7=17
Perform (comedy): 18+7=25
Perform (wind): 12+7=19
Perform (comedy): 10+7=17
The last two nights lacked any spirit on his part and the audience seemed to sense it. The applause was polite, and the payment was decent, but he went to bed alone and barely inebriated. He had to admit that he was starting to get the adventuring bug again and could hardly wait to begin killing rats again. As he began making his way across Baldur's Gate to the celebratory party, he began to feel a giddiness inside. Who knows what the future will hold, but tonight there will be one last grand hurrah where I can show my skills to this crowd of socialites.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As he split from the rest of the group, Gurkirat gave himself an experimental sniff. Pffeew! The mixture of sweat, sewer, and rat blood was not a pleasant pheremone. He looked at his clarinet and decided against sticking it into his mouth for a whole evening. Guess I'll be dancing and juggling the night away.
The nearest tavern was only a block from the sewer exit and it would have been right at home in the sewer itself. The whitewash was faded where it existed at all, and the door was jammed open and rusted to the point of being frozen in place. The steps leading up to the door were so filled in with dirt from shoes that they were more of a slide that stairs. As a consolation, the sounds coming from within had the universal sound of coarse cheeriness and excess consumption. Entering the bar, he flourished with his cape that wasn't there, and gave a bow to the bartender, a large man with a face ... Gurkirat tried not to look at his face too closely. To this end, he suggested they negotiate reibursement after the performance. Naturally, this wasn't a spoken agreement but rather implied as he marched to the center of the room and began his performance. At least he assumed payment was in the bargain, but perhaps it wasn't considering how the night turned out.
Perform (comedy): 12+7=19
It went well, considering the activities earlier in the day. It appeared the crowd and bartender enjoyed the show too, but had probably been years since they had seen a bard if ever. However, as he returned to the bartender to negotiate a bit of recompense, he was given a large glass of something foul and shoved up the stairs to a room on the upper floor. Inside was the spitting image of the bartender, but in woman form. .... and naked! He looked at the bartenders grinning face, the naked form in the bed. I've had worse ... I think. He chugged the foul beverage and acted as grateful as he could manage.
--
After the debacle that was the first night Gurkirat decided he would stick to the clarinet for a while. Although he was forced to admit that the shemale was quite amazing in the bed. How could she have enough practice to get that good, he was forced to wonder before he could dash the image of where she had been from his mind. Yech.
Leaving the place as early as could be managed he decided to bath himself in the ocean and then find a more reputable establishment. And negotiate the terms before the night, no matter how the bartender may appear, he reminded himself. A physical and mental cleaning proved to be the medicine he needed and his musicality in the middle class establishment that night was very good although it did take a turn for the worse near the end as the number of drinks caught up with his fingers. He noted mentally that getting paid in drinks probably wasn't the best idea from now on.
Perform (wind): 14+7=21
-------------------------------
The following two nights were a blur of drunkeness, sex, and fantastic music. Probably the best nights of his life, truth be told.
Perform (wind): 18+7=25
Perform (wind): 15+7=22
-----------------------------------------
The middle nights were more a blur than anything else. The success of the previous nights encouraged Gurkirat to move up into the higher end districts of town, but these failed to match the two nights of revelry leading up. Sure, these ladies might look nice on the outside, and smell good too, but they just didn't have the fire of spirit that the workin ladies had. Too much blushy blushy, not enough sucky fucky. Sure there was one great night where he was able to prove that his dexterity was equal on the dance floor and in the sack. But all the skill demonstrated that night was his while the woman could have been replaced by a sack of potatoes. A beautiful sack of potatoes, admittedly, but seriously!
Perform (comedy): 8+7=15
Perform (comedy): 13+7=20
Perform (wind): 10+7=17
Perform (comedy): 18+7=25
Perform (wind): 12+7=19
Perform (comedy): 10+7=17
The last two nights lacked any spirit on his part and the audience seemed to sense it. The applause was polite, and the payment was decent, but he went to bed alone and barely inebriated. He had to admit that he was starting to get the adventuring bug again and could hardly wait to begin killing rats again. As he began making his way across Baldur's Gate to the celebratory party, he began to feel a giddiness inside. Who knows what the future will hold, but tonight there will be one last grand hurrah where I can show my skills to this crowd of socialites.
Gazing at the stars
My apologies for messing with the continuity, I had wrongly assumed the party had started. This post falls in line with the current continuity, I'll work in the latter post later.
It was not her ring, it could not be. But, it was close enough to being her ring that it brought back memories from before the monastery. The elf clutched the ring to his chest and worked his way through the city. He went past the park where he and Darvin had gone to when they first arrived in the city. He did not stop to reflect.
Weaving his way through the back alleys of the city, Talathel found himself at the back gate of the city. He gave a feeble wave to a guard and exited.
He did not go for from the city. He climbed a nearby high rise, one that gave him a good view of the ocean. Tired from his adventures, he meditated.
"I wish you well on your adventures..." Time had worn away the memories of her face, but Talathel recognized the voice. He wished that the angelic voice would stop talking, for he knew all to well how the rest of the conversation went. "...I can't go with you. Father would never allow it."
Talathel brought himself out of the meditative state. He looked out over the sea, trying in vain to see The Moonshae Isles. She would be there, living her life.
Finding the view of the ocean frustratingly captivating, he set about starting a fire. It was tiring work, but eventually he was able to rub a few sticks together to make a flame. By adding some relatively dry brush he was able to grow the fire. It was modest, but adequate. With the fire steadily burning, he went out in search of food. He spotted a deer nearby. He picked up a rock and threw it at the creature. The attempt worked better than he thought, as the rock hit the deer in the head, and the beast fell to the ground. Using his kama, he prepared the animal and soon after began to cook the meat.
He spent the next few days tending to the fire and gazing out into the ocean. Every now and again, his mind tricked himself into thinking that it could see the islands. He took this as his cue to meditate, which he did. He continued to hear her voice, but never see her face.
"Its probably for the best," the elf thought. He had never been to the Moonshae Isles, but she had talked about it often. That was where she wanted to be, or at least where her father had wanted her to be. A lot of elves born on the mainland had yearned to go to the islands. Talathel had wanted to see the world, and ended up in a monastery instead.
At the end of the eighth day, Talathel allowed the fire to burn itself out. He came back down the hill and went back into the city. He poked around the market, not entirely sure what he was looking for.
He explored the pier, and on more than one occasion considered stowing away on an outgoing boat with hopes that it would take him to the Moonshae Isles. He decided against it, but never gave himself a reason.
Talathel kicked a rock into the sea and headed towards Hring's house.
"I'll find you, someday."
10 Days of R & R
Darvin had a pouch full of gold and so many possibilities. Talathel had disappeared somewhere and the half-elf was realizing that he was going to be spending the next 10 days on his own.
"Well, it looks like I'm on my own again..."
The flashbacks hadn't happened for a long time, but this one came roaring back.
~~~~~~
Darvin was sitting in the house back in Secomber. It was dark and one, single, solitary candle attempted to light the small room. His mother was laying in her bed. Her face was covered in open sores, that were oozing puss. Her breathing was labored, Darvin would come to find out later this was referred to as the "Death Rattle", but she was smiling ever so slightly. Darvin sat there spooning the soup the "doctor" had told him would make his mother well. It had only cost him all the money they had.
"Darvin...you are a good boy." said his mother, "You are destined for very good things I can feel it. Listen to me, I have do not have much time left..."
"Oh mother, stop talking like that. That's what this soup is for. You will be better in a few days." Darvin knew he was wrong but didn't want to believe it, she had only been getting worse and she had been drinking the soup for a solid week now.
"Son, you will do great things. But you must always trust in yourself. You will do good things...yes, very good things..." And with that she faded away. Darvin called out to her a couple of times but he knew she was gone. And there he sat. Alone. A few days later, Thorn had found him down by the docks and had offered him a meal for some manually labor. Soon after that he invited Darvin to live with him. Darvin was grateful for all that Thorn had done for him but realized that that chapter is his life was now closed and it was time for him to move on.
~~~~~~
Darvin shook himself out of the flashback and continued down the street. He remembered the master work leather armor he had and the necklace Beranhond had given him.
Over the next 10 days, Darvin spent his time resting and socializing with the patrons of the pub in the Inn he was staying at. Things seemed to be calming down a little bit around Baldur's Gate and the people were ever happy to know the wererat problem had been taken care of. They all seemed skeptical when Darvin informed them he was a "Mighty Pirate" though.
"Well, I've never heard of you..." Was the most common response. When he wasn't in the Pub he had gotten his Master Work Leather Armor affixed with studs so that it became Master Work Studded Leather Armor. A jeweler examined the necklace for him, and he was told that it let you breathe underwater,
"That's a lot easier than holding your breath for ten minutes." Darvin thought to himself.
On about the 8th Day, Darvin was strolling around town when he noticed a woman selling these funny devices that made a loud boom when the trigger was pulled.
"What are those?" Asked the half-elf.
"These would be pistols, my Piratey looking friend." And with that Darvin was sold. The woman was named Carla, and she was a purveyor of pistols and other firearms. She spent the next teaching Darvin how to use them. They packed a powerful punch, but were not the most efficient weapons ever created. Darvin decided, however, that they would be very valuable in the beginning of a fight and purchased two of them.
"They're 250 gp a piece." Said Carla.
"That's more than a horse!" Exclaimed Darvin as he paid her the money. As soon as she had called him "piratey looking" he had decided he was buying whatever she was selling.
On the day of the party, Darvin headed to the bathhouse and gave himself a good scrubbing. It was a little early for the yearly bath, but there was a half-elven maid who was going to be at this party that Darvin had grown fond of. He returned to his room and dressed in his best tunic, the red one, with the toggles, and headed out the door.
As he stepped outside he saw a tall human and a stunning half-elven maid holding a cat. Darvin stared for a moment and then realized it was Beranhond and...Nym. Darvin was amazed at how wonderful she looked. The dirt and grime of the sewer was gone and had been replaced with a beauty that Darvin had not seen for a very long time. Once over his initial shock, Darvin called out them.
"My friends! What luck that I have found you on my way to our party!" Darvin walked over to join them.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Party Dresses and Kitty Cats
As Nym left the destroyed area she'd been hiding in, she was careful still to stay in the shadows. Stealth: 16+5=21 No one noticed the well-dressed girl creeping through the shadows as the entered the still populated area of town. As she approached an inn, she heard a familiar parade of noise and stopped to look at who was tromping so loudly while talking to a cat. She hopped out of the shadows toward the figure, startling him. She didn't seem to notice as she exclaimed Beranhond! Meowface! Are you going to the party? I'm going to the party! I've never been to a party before, exactly. Do you like my dress? It's the first I've ever had! As usual, Nym continued talking until interrupted.
Trading Houses
Hello everyone, here is a map of the various trade routes of Faerun, as well as the organization of trading houses and the areas where letters of mark actually will mean something. You are in the northwest right now, in the red area.
A long expected party
On the day of the party Beranhond stepped off the gangway and breathed a sigh of relief when he was back on dryland, even if it was only the pier. Once he reached the actual dryland he dropped to the ground.
"Thank you Narath..." He bowed his head for a moment before rising. Narath had been quiet lately, normally her voice was floating around him.
"I am still here... just busy... we will talk soon my prophet." She sounded very distracted. "Especially about Ceilith."
"Um...." he smiled weakly, but her presence was gone.
He found himself a middle-range inn, sent his new travel clothes off to the cleaners, and slept the rest of the day resting. When the party time drew near Beranhond bathed and shaved, and put on his dress robes. They felt odd compared to the tunic and lose pants he had worn at the citadel, but serviceable enough for such an outing. Plus, Narath encouraged him to look holy on at least on ocassion, and she felt would remind me people not to get too drunk. Beranhond had his doubts about that. He grabbed his sword which he had renamed Aesahaettr, and buckled it before leaving his inn room and heading toward the party.
"Thank you Narath..." He bowed his head for a moment before rising. Narath had been quiet lately, normally her voice was floating around him.
"I am still here... just busy... we will talk soon my prophet." She sounded very distracted. "Especially about Ceilith."
"Um...." he smiled weakly, but her presence was gone.
He found himself a middle-range inn, sent his new travel clothes off to the cleaners, and slept the rest of the day resting. When the party time drew near Beranhond bathed and shaved, and put on his dress robes. They felt odd compared to the tunic and lose pants he had worn at the citadel, but serviceable enough for such an outing. Plus, Narath encouraged him to look holy on at least on ocassion, and she felt would remind me people not to get too drunk. Beranhond had his doubts about that. He grabbed his sword which he had renamed Aesahaettr, and buckled it before leaving his inn room and heading toward the party.
Ready for the Party
Nym was excited to go to a party. She hadn't been to one in... well, ever. She brushed her hair while looking into the broken bit of mirror she'd found in a neighboring house. She scrunched up her nose, disappointed in how her hair looked. It was better when it was longer... She pulled back her hair with a ribbon and stood back to examine herself in the dress. She plucked a lose thread of the sleeve and cocked her head to one side as she scrutinized her appearance. Finally deciding she was pleased with herself, she announced to no one, I look marvelous! and smiled broadly into the broken mirror resting her hands on her hips.
She then turned to her other belongings and began folding them neatly to leave in the stable with Nesme. Nym had been able to secure and lock the stable from the outside, guaranteeing the safety of her new companion. She carried her things down to the stable, and stashed them near Nesme. I won't be gone too long. She said to the horse, stroking it's mane. Nesme snorted and ate her hay. Don't I look pretty? I think I look lovely. She continued, twirling for Nesme, who looked up from her food only to see if Nym had brought her a special treat. Nym sighed and gave Nesme a playful dirty look. You don't care at all, do you? Nym pulled an apple out from behind her back and held it out. Nesme snorted in approval.
After saying her goodbyes to Nesme, Nym locked up the stable and slunk through the streets, being sure to remain in the shadows. The Sea Star had still not left port, and Nym had no interest in meeting up with any of the crew ever again, since they intended to kill her for her witchcraft. As she approached Hring's, she could hear the sounds of the party. She smiled and approached the lavish home.
She then turned to her other belongings and began folding them neatly to leave in the stable with Nesme. Nym had been able to secure and lock the stable from the outside, guaranteeing the safety of her new companion. She carried her things down to the stable, and stashed them near Nesme. I won't be gone too long. She said to the horse, stroking it's mane. Nesme snorted and ate her hay. Don't I look pretty? I think I look lovely. She continued, twirling for Nesme, who looked up from her food only to see if Nym had brought her a special treat. Nym sighed and gave Nesme a playful dirty look. You don't care at all, do you? Nym pulled an apple out from behind her back and held it out. Nesme snorted in approval.
After saying her goodbyes to Nesme, Nym locked up the stable and slunk through the streets, being sure to remain in the shadows. The Sea Star had still not left port, and Nym had no interest in meeting up with any of the crew ever again, since they intended to kill her for her witchcraft. As she approached Hring's, she could hear the sounds of the party. She smiled and approached the lavish home.
Arrival in Waterdown.
On the fourth day after meeting his distant relations, Beranhond stepped off the ship. His stomach wasn't doing too well, and the ship's crew had been borderline crazy. However, he had arrived safely in Waterdeep. After recovering for a moment, he went to the market and sold off his remaining healing turbans that he had made on the ship. He then took the money to the local chapter of the Vasri trading company and exchanged much of his coins for a letter of credit.
As Beranhond arrived at the temple of Torm in Waterdeep, he say a procession traveling up the steps to the temple just in front of him. The procession consisted of 4 people being carried on stretchers and 19 people carrying stretchers or protecting the group. The procession was dripping and splattered with a coating of blood and viscera, obviously coming from a battle of some sort.
Jumping to try to help, Beranhond hurried to catch up to the group, Tigrisclawu in tow. The group made it up the steps and into the large, wooden double doors of the temple before he was able to catch up with them. As he entered the doors, Beranhond saw the group being directed by a priest of Torm to a stairwell leading downward. Beranhond walked up to the priest, who noticed him entering and turned to face him, saying, "May the Justice of Torm guide your actions. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Beranhond noticed the man wore the full suit of battle armor typical of a priest of Torm, with wispy blonde hair on the sides of his head that appeared to be just beginning to lighten to white in places, giving him something of a halo. The man smiled reassuringly as Beranhond stopped in front of him. "I am a healer. Is there anything that I can do to help those people that just came in?"
The man bowed respectfully to Beranhond, acknowledging a fellow healer, as he said, "Thank you, friend, but they will be well taken care of in our infirmary. Your offer is appreciated, regardless."
Beranhond took advantage of the brief pause in the conversation to introduce himself. "My name is Beranhond. I came to your temple in search of answers." Why can't I come up with anything less cliche to say than that? I'm just opening myself up to be converted with that line! "I have several friends who are paladins of Torm, who were sent to this area from Tantras. I was in the area and thought I would check in to see if Ceilith was still here. Do you know her?"
The man put a hand on Beranhond's shoulder (likely a rather awkward touch) and said, "Yes, she like many of our priests and clerics, are fighting the beasts attacking the city. She is one of those on the outer loop, making a tour of the countryside that will take her another week to return. Do not fear, my son, the champions of Torm are valiant, and this foe won't stay them so easily."
Not to be so easily persuaded, Beranhond continued pressing for answers. "Who are they fighting? You spoke of beasts?"
"Yes," the man responded. "Those wandering outside of the city have been under increasing attacks by both undead and beasts roaming around. It was the undead that drew our attention, but both the magical and non-magical beasts of the forest, river, and plains have been extremely aggressive of late, and our attempts to contact the druids' circle near Goldenfields have not been able to even locate the druids, let alone discover why the animals have gone mad."
"I thank you for your help, priest. I must be off. Until we meet again, fare thee well." And with that, Beranhond turned and left the city, to continue his search of more answers.
Other things you pick up:
As Beranhond arrived at the temple of Torm in Waterdeep, he say a procession traveling up the steps to the temple just in front of him. The procession consisted of 4 people being carried on stretchers and 19 people carrying stretchers or protecting the group. The procession was dripping and splattered with a coating of blood and viscera, obviously coming from a battle of some sort.
Jumping to try to help, Beranhond hurried to catch up to the group, Tigrisclawu in tow. The group made it up the steps and into the large, wooden double doors of the temple before he was able to catch up with them. As he entered the doors, Beranhond saw the group being directed by a priest of Torm to a stairwell leading downward. Beranhond walked up to the priest, who noticed him entering and turned to face him, saying, "May the Justice of Torm guide your actions. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Beranhond noticed the man wore the full suit of battle armor typical of a priest of Torm, with wispy blonde hair on the sides of his head that appeared to be just beginning to lighten to white in places, giving him something of a halo. The man smiled reassuringly as Beranhond stopped in front of him. "I am a healer. Is there anything that I can do to help those people that just came in?"
The man bowed respectfully to Beranhond, acknowledging a fellow healer, as he said, "Thank you, friend, but they will be well taken care of in our infirmary. Your offer is appreciated, regardless."
Beranhond took advantage of the brief pause in the conversation to introduce himself. "My name is Beranhond. I came to your temple in search of answers." Why can't I come up with anything less cliche to say than that? I'm just opening myself up to be converted with that line! "I have several friends who are paladins of Torm, who were sent to this area from Tantras. I was in the area and thought I would check in to see if Ceilith was still here. Do you know her?"
The man put a hand on Beranhond's shoulder (likely a rather awkward touch) and said, "Yes, she like many of our priests and clerics, are fighting the beasts attacking the city. She is one of those on the outer loop, making a tour of the countryside that will take her another week to return. Do not fear, my son, the champions of Torm are valiant, and this foe won't stay them so easily."
Not to be so easily persuaded, Beranhond continued pressing for answers. "Who are they fighting? You spoke of beasts?"
"I thank you for your help, priest. I must be off. Until we meet again, fare thee well." And with that, Beranhond turned and left the city, to continue his search of more answers.
Other things you pick up:
- The undead and the beasts have been attacking for around 3 weeks, and attacks have only increased in that time, despite the rather recent addition of the paladins who were in the area for a different threat.
- Things at sea have been stormy of late as well, with seemingly random ships being attacked by large sharks and creatures of the deep that rarely interact with human vessels.
- The fighting with animals outside of Waterdeep and elsewhere is worse than the priest let on. The talk in the city is that the undead and the animals are targeting priests of Lathander. It's even rumored that the leader of the church of Lathander, Dwimble the Good, is considering declaring a holy war against the beasts that are attacking them.
- Torm's priests see themselves as vulnerable and next in line should the creatures tire of attacking Lathander's clergy, and have joined in the fight, becoming something of a target themselves.
no place like home for the holidays.
Ah shit. Bernahond thought as he realized that this was the center of the quakes, tsunami, and death. Why was that healer helping them at first, and then fighting us later? Didn't the other clerics say that the Lathander priests were going to go and take of the problem in Waterdeep?
"You ready to go to waterdeep Tigris?" Just as he was saying that a man stopped and looked at him.
"Ethelred?" A voice said behind him. Beranhond turned and looked in shock at his crazy uncle.Oh no...
"Krasa!" Beranhond said, completely shocked. "So good to see you." He said with what he hoped passed as sincerity.
Beranhond was then dragged from the ruins of the Lathander temple and towards his uncle's house. Along the way Krasa filled him in with all the random happenings with his family. It was in a nicer part of town and hadn't been damaged much at all. His uncle's ramblings didn't seem quite as insane as he remembered, so Beranhond relaxed a bit and thought that it would be alright, but as he approached he could hear the rancorous yells of his cousins inside. At these sounds Tigrisclawu wisely made his escape and bolted down the street.
"See you later!"
As they opened the door, thirteen youths of various ages tumbled out and gawked at their cousin who towered over him. The eldest was roughly Beranhond's age and the tallest was still at least four inches shorter than him. There was a moment of silence before the cacophony broke and hands plied all over his clothing, weapons, and cape. I need to fix the cloak of silencing before I come back next time...
As he was led in Beranhond's heart sank and he realized that it was only going to get worse.
The entire family - his aunt, uncle, and their his thirteen cousins, then spent the rest of the evening pestering him about the adventures, his training, Torm, his love life, and anything else they could pester him with. There was also the usual squabbling he remembered from his last visit. His aunt, Enoiier, was just as emotional as he remembered and broke into tears describing how badly the Tsunami had damaged their house (which of course it hadn't). As his cousins set down food (the little that there were - Krasa did the cooking and seemed to approach meals with the same interest a sailor approached a bar of soap), everyone began to fight trying to get scraps and bits of the small, meager, portions that lined the numerous serving bowls. Beranhond managed to obtain a small quantity of food, but his stomach still rumbled when the plates were taken away.
Following a desert of delicious rhubarb pie, that half the cousins didn't get to taste, Enoiier and Krasa spent much of dinner squabbling over money, while Beranhond's thirteen cousins fought over the chance to tell him about their most recent work/job/love interest. Beranhond, with the patience learned from ten years in the citadel, smiled politely. At the end of the night, he tried to slip out but Krasa would have none of it and forced him to spend the night on the five foot long cot in the corner. Bernahond at first tired to sleep, but gave up and started crafting a healing ring and finished by morning's light. He dashed out as quickly as he could and promised to visit soon.
He spent the rest of the day groggily making healing items and selling them for a profit. He expected he would do the same the next day while on the ship to Waterdown.
"You ready to go to waterdeep Tigris?" Just as he was saying that a man stopped and looked at him.
"Ethelred?" A voice said behind him. Beranhond turned and looked in shock at his crazy uncle.Oh no...
"Krasa!" Beranhond said, completely shocked. "So good to see you." He said with what he hoped passed as sincerity.
Beranhond was then dragged from the ruins of the Lathander temple and towards his uncle's house. Along the way Krasa filled him in with all the random happenings with his family. It was in a nicer part of town and hadn't been damaged much at all. His uncle's ramblings didn't seem quite as insane as he remembered, so Beranhond relaxed a bit and thought that it would be alright, but as he approached he could hear the rancorous yells of his cousins inside. At these sounds Tigrisclawu wisely made his escape and bolted down the street.
"See you later!"
As they opened the door, thirteen youths of various ages tumbled out and gawked at their cousin who towered over him. The eldest was roughly Beranhond's age and the tallest was still at least four inches shorter than him. There was a moment of silence before the cacophony broke and hands plied all over his clothing, weapons, and cape. I need to fix the cloak of silencing before I come back next time...
As he was led in Beranhond's heart sank and he realized that it was only going to get worse.
The entire family - his aunt, uncle, and their his thirteen cousins, then spent the rest of the evening pestering him about the adventures, his training, Torm, his love life, and anything else they could pester him with. There was also the usual squabbling he remembered from his last visit. His aunt, Enoiier, was just as emotional as he remembered and broke into tears describing how badly the Tsunami had damaged their house (which of course it hadn't). As his cousins set down food (the little that there were - Krasa did the cooking and seemed to approach meals with the same interest a sailor approached a bar of soap), everyone began to fight trying to get scraps and bits of the small, meager, portions that lined the numerous serving bowls. Beranhond managed to obtain a small quantity of food, but his stomach still rumbled when the plates were taken away.
Following a desert of delicious rhubarb pie, that half the cousins didn't get to taste, Enoiier and Krasa spent much of dinner squabbling over money, while Beranhond's thirteen cousins fought over the chance to tell him about their most recent work/job/love interest. Beranhond, with the patience learned from ten years in the citadel, smiled politely. At the end of the night, he tried to slip out but Krasa would have none of it and forced him to spend the night on the five foot long cot in the corner. Bernahond at first tired to sleep, but gave up and started crafting a healing ring and finished by morning's light. He dashed out as quickly as he could and promised to visit soon.
He spent the rest of the day groggily making healing items and selling them for a profit. He expected he would do the same the next day while on the ship to Waterdown.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Ships and Guns
Ships:
I have been asked several questions about ships and guns lately, especially dealing with the skills listed in the "Broadsides!" game supplement. I would like to make use of that supplement, but here are the skills you will use in the place of the skills listed there:
I know that this takes away the distinctiveness of the Profession: Pilot or Profession: Sailor as used in "Broadsides!", but I don't really think that players should have to use skill ranks to become proficient at piloting ships, so I'm going to just let you double count any applicable profession that pertains to sailing on a ship.
Firearms:
As far as guns are concerned, you will need to have the feat Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Firearms) in order to use them. However, for any of the Exotic Weapon Proficiencies, I am willing to give you the feat in return for your character training with someone who is skilled in the weapon type's use for a full day. This training will cost you 15 gp, once you have found a weaponsmaster who knows the weapon you want to learn.
I have been asked several questions about ships and guns lately, especially dealing with the skills listed in the "Broadsides!" game supplement. I would like to make use of that supplement, but here are the skills you will use in the place of the skills listed there:
| Broadsides! | Stormspout |
| Profession: Artillerist | Either Exotic Weapon Proficiency: Firearms OR Profession: Artillerist |
| Profession: Navigation | Knowledge: Geography |
| Profession: Pilot | Profession: Sailor OR similar Profession |
| Profession: Sailor | Profession: Sailor OR similar Profession |
| Sea Legs | Acrobatics |
I know that this takes away the distinctiveness of the Profession: Pilot or Profession: Sailor as used in "Broadsides!", but I don't really think that players should have to use skill ranks to become proficient at piloting ships, so I'm going to just let you double count any applicable profession that pertains to sailing on a ship.
Firearms:
As far as guns are concerned, you will need to have the feat Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Firearms) in order to use them. However, for any of the Exotic Weapon Proficiencies, I am willing to give you the feat in return for your character training with someone who is skilled in the weapon type's use for a full day. This training will cost you 15 gp, once you have found a weaponsmaster who knows the weapon you want to learn.
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