Startup 91: Crunch Time II

I could hear the shriek of the thunderbird over the wind, backed by a constant rumble of thunder. Lightning trailed behind it, arcing from its feathers to every cloud in a rippling wave that left dark trails upon my sensitive eyes. Time stood still, I heard the clatter of dice rolling initiative as my new tracker slid into view, and whatever faint hope I had that this Macaw would be a chill dude died completely.

In the frozen moment, I calmed myself, getting over the initial shot of panic. The only creature I’d seen larger than this thing since coming to the Shackles had been Aashaq, and given the context I was genuinely worried I was looking at a creature in the same weight class.

When I brought up my new initiative tracker, it did absolutely nothing to dispel that impression by prominently displaying his initiative roll of 32, which was about 6 higher than I was physically capable of rolling. It was not enough to beat Sandara’s critical roll, and I belatedly realized she was holding her action. After she’d warned me of the danger, she’d started singing a shanty and now she was holding a note right before the final word of her spell.

The tracker showed the name and initiative of every combatant, floating across my vision like my menu. The bird’s name was apparently Manamana, but the rest of the character sheet that popped up when I focused on the name was very sparse, mostly consisting of a giant pile of question marks except for its speed, which read “fly speed: at least 80 feet.” It also had a spell list longer than mine, which included at least one labeled as an 8th circle spell.

How very fucking helpful. I can tell it’s relatively quick just by looking at it.

Sandara and I had direct links to our character sheets, and the Xocothians had standard Xocothian statblocks, save that all the text was in grey where Sandara and I had our information in black.

Ok. I don’t have enough data points to crack the notation right now. Breathe, and decide what to do next. We knew something like this might happen.

I took a step back and looked at the information I actually had; the turn order. Sandara with a critical initiative roll, then Manamana, then me, then both Xocothians. They were, for now, too far away to hit with my frost blast even if I wanted to piss them off. I was pretty sure I knew which spell Sandara had ready to go, and it had a pretty good chance of driving off the Xocothians.

“Second Shift!” I hissed at Sandara, and she nodded slightly.

We didn’t have a particularly extensive playbook, my powers rendered the act of drilling strategies into our heads substantially less important, but we’d agreed on a few plays. Second Shift was what one of us said whenever we concluded that we needed to get off this dinky little boat.

I summoned my shadow puppet and ducked down behind it. The Xocothians approached, probably to delay us for the big gun, and Sandara hurled her spell at them.

“They're down, downed, and drowned

Downed and drowned and never found,”

A dark oily burst of necromancy lanced out and arced between the three assailants, and the two Xocothians suddenly went absolutely ballistic. They shrieked and wheeled through the air, and I could see them questing out with their weather control and failing to find purchase upon the storm. Eventually they started wheeling upwards, seeking to forget about us entirely. Manamana seemed completely unaffected, unfortunately.

Sandara has cast Hydrophobia.

Xocothian A has gained a crippling fear of water

Xocothian B has gained a crippling fear of water

In a remarkable show of restraint, Sandara didn’t stick around to brag or call the weird bird-snakes cowardly bitches. Instead, she called upon Besmara’s aspect as a trickster goddess to create an illusory doppelgänger of herself that stood by my shadow puppet, and we dove off of the raft together.

It wouldn’t save us for long, especially since my shadow puppet was a bit shit at piloting that thing, but it seems that Manamana took his massive swerve as an evasive maneuver. We fell for long enough that I needed to pass turn, and when I looked up I saw a stream of shimmering green magic envelop the raft, causing it to practically explode in the violent winds.

Flotsam Raft has been dispelled

Shadow Puppet has been dispelled

Copycat has been dispelled

I cast Infuse Self as we fell, and my skin lightened and took on a blue cast starting somewhere near my liver. Light webbing stretched between my fingers, and in moments I was an undine. At the other end of the rope binding us together, Sandara cast Ride the Waves for a similar but much less visually dramatic effect. We slammed into the roaring waves, and even with the benefit of Feather Fall the impact knocked the wind out of me. I needed to spit out the wad of algae that came with my first breath of water. We both swam down, and above us the giant macaw’s talons raked through the water.

Sea monsters or no, we aren’t hitting the surface until we’ve moved away from here.

••••••••••

The cannons howled, firing the grapeshot to clear the path. Thousands of pellets no larger than a wasp spread out and peppered the field, tearing through the carapace of the Karkinoi. Many of the more hardy or lucky among them were able to weather a few stray pellets, but even they howled and reeled back in agony.

The boarding party leapt from the Hippocampus onto the rocks, forming ranks before the Karkinoi could recover. Each and every one of them had blades drawn, and once the beachhead was established they fell upon the enemy with gusto. They cut a path through the beasts, making their way to a narrow staircase carved into the outside of the archway.

Sosima sat in the middle of the pack, clad in ill-fitting chainmail that had once graced a Thoxel demon. It was little more than a sack draped over her, but provided adequate protection when combined with her padding. She felt slightly naked going to battle without her armor, but ankheg plate stained black and polished to a mirror finish was far too distinctive to wear undercover. “Sylvie” would prefer something more generic, in any event.

She kept her contributions to bardic enhancement, dancing in a manner that strengthened her temporary allies. Each and every strike from the boarding crew would be enhanced with the same deadly resonance she lashed out with on the downbeat. The individual contributions were small, but in aggregate she was able to help put down three or four of the brutes without putting herself at risk. It was more than the others at the center did.

Shishe didn’t know enough about Captain Laurent’s abilities to do more than affect disdain towards their enemies. Even if she had chosen to join the battle, doing so would have only served to reveal that she could not access the Captain’s arsenal. Her cover grew thinner by the moment, but at least she looked like she belonged there. Alice stood beside her captain, completely unfazed by the chaos, while Mariana jumped at every little thing. Sosima supposed that a psychopomp grew accustomed to the aftermath of ****, not the process itself.

Laurent’s team was equal to the task, even seeming to relish in it. Once they reached the steps, the strategy shifted again, with the lithe elven warriors dancing past one another as they fought their way up the perilously narrow steps in a fighting retreat. It was not as if the Karkinoi frequently made the climb, so the band’s path was clear as they ascended and pursuit slowly tapered off.

At the peak of the arch, a single wooden structure awaited them. A wooden plank, securely affixed and jutting out over the water. Judging by the long ropes that those hanging within the arch dangled from, it seemed likely that each of them had been **** to take a final step off of this very plank. One and all had likely died almost instantly from the long drop.

“Secure the ropes and watch the stairs.” Laurent commanded, “It’s always possible that we will be followed.”

••••••••••

The roar of cannon fire was an excellent signal for the attack to begin. Most of the crew had reported to the deck; they weren’t likely to get a better chance. Dierdre led the team to the engine room, taking the long way around to avoid the armory; even with the stealth suits, they weren’t likely to be able to avoid being seen in a narrow corridor by some poor bastard getting extra ammo for the crew.

They managed to get there without any trouble. Kiko and Sora had suddenly gone eerily silent the moment they left the cabin, enough that Syl needed to check to see that they were still coming along. Once they were just outside of the door, they gathered and Syl looked at the rest of the team. Kiko and Sora acted first, transforming into raven haired elves save the unreasonably long noses. Dierdre came next, landing on Syl’s shoulder invisibly. The sensation of becoming Dierdre’s ward was not unlike being wrapped in a warm towel.

The final person to begin was Conchobar, who gingerly pulled out the Horn of Honor. He’d fought Syl on the plan using it, but Syl was pretty sure she could turn this into a one sided slaughter with his new trick. Dierdre was under strict orders to snatch it away for safekeeping the very moment Conchobar was done with it, in any event. He brought the lion horn to his lips, and played a short, complex song.

Syl looked down at her hand, and saw that it had gone from blurry outline to entirely invisible, thanks to Conchobar using the magic of the horn to cast the spell Vanish on her. She took a deep breath, and without delay she ran into the room and slit the carotid artery of an elven man who had turned his head to look towards the door at the sound of strange music.

“For the Winter Council!” She shouted, to the complete confusion of everyone present. She was a human, after all.

Then the horn out in the hallway began its second round of the Vanish song, and Syl became invisible once more. Dierdre giggled into Syl’s ear, and the second part of the plan went into action.

Everyone in the room turned to a very confused elf who had been standing next to the now-dying man on the ground and was kneeling to render aid. She was roughly dragged off of her companion and pinned to the wall.

“Liren!” One of her companions yelled, “What in Callistria’s name are you doing!”

“What?” Liren asked, confused.

She needn’t have bothered. Thanks to Deflect Blame, everyone had just seen her kill a man while proclaiming the name of the Winter Council. Syl chose another person, more selective this time. One of the few armed men in the room, who had a heavy mace slung at his hip, was suddenly cut open at the abdomen. Seconds later, everyone present believed that his neighbor was responsible and Syl was invisible once more. Dierdre could only Deflect Blame three times per day, but there were only eight people in the room in the first place.

The Danthienne cackled as chaos enveloped the engine room, with the two who hadn’t been framed hacking away at the confused and injured victims of Deflect Blame with large hammers. Syl watched invisibly, trying to decide if intervention would be wise or courting disaster at this point.

••••••••••

Hypothetically, there might have been a blockade around the Blessed Isle, or perhaps Manamana would float over the shallows and wait. I didn’t really know how committed he was to hunting us. Maybe it was foolish and foolhardy to make a beeline for the island, but floating around randomly would have been sheer idiocy.

Sandara and I had dug into the pirate code before coming here. I won’t pull out every tenet, but the first half of Besmara’s teachings were extremely pragmatic and results oriented. Get treasure, assert dominance, and stay focused on the task at hand. The other half? Mostly caution against traits Besmara saw as self congratulatory foolishness. Honor, caution, bravery, mercy, even the code itself? Tools to be used and discarded as needed.

I had a theory, and we’d built our whole strategy around it. We’d never pit strength against strength. Any resistance, and we’d bow out as long as we could do so in a way that got us closer to the island. Sidestep enough obstacles, and we’d make our way to the shore.

Sandara and I dove deep into the water, relying on a smattering of Drow hand signs for communication. I’d started drilling the **** basics into everyone on the crew for moments like these, when we couldn’t speak. Sandara wasn’t ready to have a conversation with Filli, but directions, yes, and no were on the table.

We stayed extremely close to one another, with her essentially giving me a piggy back ride. Sandara couldn’t see very far in the darkness, and I couldn’t swim half as well as her. Ride the Waves was one of the few fourth circle spells she’d chosen to prepare today, and it was purpose built for this exact situation. For the rest of the day she could breathe water, and it would push and pull her as she desired, essentially creating a perpetual current that could make precision maneuvers or push her at high speed. In short, we tried to repeat the same plan that had gotten us this far with our roles reversed.

Most of the creatures that swam towards us weren’t actually all that impressive. The first few minutes underwater we only saw absolute clouds of normal fish eating the algae and perpetually feasting sharks, which weren’t much of a threat no matter what my monkey brain told me. They were mundane predators who wanted easy meals, and my ice blast was enough to scare them off. The part of my brain that zoomed out when I was stressed decided to latch onto the ecology of this place while Autopilot and the more responsible parts of myself kept vigil.

There really shouldn’t be this many fish, or this much algae, in a place like this. There’s not that much sunlight with the storm going every day. Big sharks need plenty of food, though. Probably other sea monsters and giant fuckoff macaws need even more.

We dove deep, figuring that we’d be in the most danger near the sea floor or the surface where food and habitats were most available. It had worked when I was going cross country with Filli, after all. We stopped short when I started to see bright, clashing colors beneath us. It was only when we passed over an underwater mountain that I realized what it was: auras from magic items.

The entire sea floor was absolutely covered with gold, gemstones, and a random collection of magical gear. I didn’t see any patterns, it didn’t seem to be organized in any particular way. It was all just scattered in heaps so large I didn’t even see the seabed.

That’s bait. Fuck that. Nope. Not touching the giant pile of Besmara treasure. Not even I am that hard up.

Elaborate, colorful structures made of coral jutted out of the seabed like subaquatic towers filled with Cecaelia and Tritons that popped out to watch us pass. We avoided them; they didn’t seem actively hostile, but the first time we strayed too close a giant sea urchin perched on a coral shelf started launching spines the length of my arm at us with uncomfortable accuracy.

Thankfully that was one of the few ranged threats we faced. Something or other swam out of a crevice or sat in our path every few minutes, but most of them were melee threats. Basically the only thing that actually got close enough to make me sweat was a trio of minor water elementals that seemed to manifest out of nowhere right on top of us, and that just meant we needed to stop for a second to handle them. Laurent’s revolver, now mine, proved to have an enchantment that allowed it to fire underwater; the crackling electrified bullet it fired was very effective, dispersing one of the elementals in a single blast.

Other than that, we were mostly looking at random territorial animals. Predatory animals aren’t like in the movies; they usually don’t want to pick any fight where they have a serious chance of injury. If their limb was flash frozen, they’d usually decide to go looking for a safer meal. I started to feel a little bit cocky, but then I decided to check over all of the recent creatures in my new initiative tracker.

Monstrous Jellyfish, 4 hit dice. Spear Urchin, 5 hit dice. Animate Coral, 6 hit dice, 3 small water elementals, 6 total hit dice. Giant Hermit Crab, 7 hit dice. Giant Moray Eel, 7 hit dice. Karkinoi Outcast, 8 hit dice.

Shit. The numbers are getting bigger, and they’re getting bigger fast.

If something had power and toughness that came from what they were instead of their skillset, that took the form of Hit Dice. Dierdre ran entirely off of hit dice, for example. Functionally they were the same thing as NPC class levels, so the fact that every five to ten minutes the things we ran into were getting about one level stronger in total terrified me. I did a bit of math in my head, lost my place as I had to stop to handle a charging orca with 9 hit dice, and cursed quietly from my perch on Sandara’s back.

We’ve probably got less than an hour before every one of these attacks is as strong as both of us combined.

I looked around, and in the distance I could just barely make out a silhouette the size of a house in the distance. A vaguely arrow shaped head that trailed away into eight twisting streamers like a gargantuan kite. I didn’t know if it was a full blown kraken or just a giant squid. I didn’t even properly know what the difference was other than that a kraken had some kind of magic powers. I got the distinct impression it had a much clearer view of me than I did of it. Even so, it drifted along, almost teasingly moving in and out of the outer edge of my darkvision.

It’s waiting its turn.

I pointed out the problem to Sandara, and she did the most terrifying thing possible. She flashed me her brightest smile, and adjusted our heading. I looked where we were headed, and my heart rose to my throat when I saw that she was going to thread a needle between the looming tentacled figure and the bottom of a huge black ship.

••••••••••

Mariana’s sour expression darkened with nearly every addition made to the plan. First she was to be dangled by one rope so as to reach the condemned. Then, upon realizing that the stone obstructed her path to the corpse hanging directly beneath them, it was determined that she needed to also have multiple additional ropes affixed to her like a marionette to guide her trajectory while she swung in the wind.

Sosima watched the woman lowered over the side with some mild sympathy. It was a rather stupid sort of conveyance that would have been entirely unneeded if Emrys and his levitation magic had been available. Then again, perhaps it was best he was not present.

Emrys, for all his power, was fragile and might not have survived being stabbed in the back. By some signal Sosima could not detect, all eight members of the away team, including Alice struck at once. The three supporting Mariana’s weight dropped the ropes, allowing her to fall into the drink. A cutlass chopped at Sosima’s side in a cheap shot that would have killed her if it had not been blunted by her mail.

Sosima reacted immediately, drawing her own blade and driving it into her assailant’s gut. The bastard pulled away, but she managed to slit his stomach. He’d need to hold his guts in, which was an excellent start.

A short distance away, she heard Alice speak, her tone clipped and cold.

“Matilde Laurent. You have been found guilty of heresy and the worship of a non-elven goddess.” Alice said, “You’d almost fooled me. For a time I thought your disdain was earnest, but your performance just couldn’t survive contact with one of your own kind. The Winter Council sentences you to ****, Drow.”