Session Recap S2E2: Time and Tide

We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

Joseph Campbell

15 Olarune

While Rickety Hake and his team got to work repairing and squibbing the ship, her crew had the week to themselves.  Rickety had estimated that his job would take seven days, and that left plenty of time for the Mourners to enjoy some much-needed shore leave.

On the morning of the 15th of Olarune, Torlan was exploring the town and enjoying the sights and sounds of the jungle that surrounded it.  Following a creek that fed out into the bay where the ship was docked, he came across a woman doing her laundry, and struck up a conversation.  She pointed out some mollusc shells in the water and told the old dwarf that they were used for making blue dye, and Torlan’s ears perked up at that.  He was feeling the need for some extra flair if he was going to be a ship’s officer, and his clothes and beard were in a sorry state.  Gathering up a sack of shells, he was told he could find a magewright mender in the Commons, though Sal typically worked on sails rather than suits.  Finding the shop, Torlan knocked on the door and a rough voice yelled at him to come around the back.  A weathered Shifter sat in a rocking chair with a pile of sailcloth at his feet, and Torlan asked Sal to fix and clean his leather armour and add a blue fur trim to his coat using the shells he’d gathered.  He also found himself in need of a good grooming, for not only had his beard grown wild over the last month, but it had also become damaged and uneven after a run-in with some acid.  Sal chuckled; there was no barber in town, but anyone with a sharp knife could get the job done.  Torlan hadn’t expected to end up getting a trim from a cocky halfling playing dice in a back alley, but that was what happened.  If nothing else, it would make for a good story.

That same morning, Daina was mulling over the previous night’s conversation with her friends who would now be her officers.  Rus had volunteered to be the ship’s master at arms, and she knew he could more than hold his own in a fight, but she hadn’t seen him in a lot of tight quarters.  If he was going to be training the crew for boarding actions, she wanted to get a better sense of what he was made of.  She found him in the Commons finishing up his breakfast.  “What’s up, Captain?” he greeted her.

“There’s a bit of space in the square out back,” she replied, “and I haven’t gotten to train as much as I’d like in these past couple of years.  And now that we’re having more run-ins than I’ve had these past couple of years, and if you’re going to be the master at arms, let’s have a little dance.”  She quickly held a hand up. “Not that kind of dance — let’s blunt our swords, get them safe for a bit of practice, and I’ll see you out in the square.”

His eyes widened a little.  “You want to fight?”  She grinned.  “Let’s shake off some rust.”  Rus drained his cup of tal and followed Daina, and as they prepared to spar he remarked that he’d seen Trucco and Owlbear fighting the night before, and that the big man had lit the cocky rogue up pretty hard and— Daina cut him off with a shocked look.  What had happened?  Rus shrugged.  it was probably one of Trucco’s schemes, and it seemed there had been coin involved.  Daina shook her head, some anger creeping into her face.  She’d specifically asked Sandara Quinn to keep an eye on Owlbear to prevent him from being taken advantage of while they were in port, and would be speaking with her about this later.  With a stretch of her shoulders and a flourish of her blade, Daina dropped into a defensive stance and told Rus to come get her sword from her.  “Aye aye” he nodded, and the dance began.

With a small sidestep, Daina smacked Rus out of the way with the flat of her blade as he overshot her position.  “You left yourself open,” she chided him, “you’re fighting angry.  I know.  I’ve been there.”  Going on the attack herself, Daina kept talking as they traded blows until Rus got a good hit in, and a different kind of fire came into his eyes as he shrugged out of his coat.  Tossing her hat aside with a grin, Daina continued to press him as she regaled him with the story of her first command.  It had been in 990s, late Barrakas, and at that time of year it was hot and nasty even in Karrnath — which was where she had been.  She’d been tapped to lead a small hit squad— Rus, keep your guard up, watch where your left foot is, you’re falling back too hard — to intercept a courier traveling from Fort Zombie to Karlakkton.  Sovereigns and Six, she laughed, the Karrns had such stupid names for their forts.  When she got her orders, the courier was still at Fort Zombie, and she, Vala Doranetti, and Marek Estes followed him for a good five or six miles until they were well away from any Karrn positions.  That’s going to leave a bruise.  Good!  Get in some more hits like that!  Marek’s arrow smacked into a tree ahead of the courier, causing his horse to start, and Daina rushed from the trees.  Dragging the man off his horse, she — look, they hadn’t been told to take prisoners.  They’d been told to get the missive he was carrying, and bring it back to HQ.  They ran into some more Karrns on the way back to the border, but nothing they couldn’t handle, and the information they’d captured saved a lot of Cyran lives. 

“Anyways,” Daina continued as she and Rus circled each other, “that was my first command.  It wasn’t pretty, but no one can say it wasn’t a success.  And you ride that stuff for a while, at least as long as you can.”  Closing with Rus, she drove his knife up against his neck with her own blade, but he kept her just far enough away to call it a stalemate.  She looked him in the eye.  “Like I said, it wasn’t pretty.  There was some anger in it.  But that’s when I knew I was cut out for something bigger.”  A challenge crept into her voice as she continued staring him down.  “What about you?”

He stared back.  “I’d love to stay and chat,” he drawled, “but I have to get to work.”  He was, he told her, helping Rickety with the repairs.  Daina gave him a bemused look.  He’d been through so much, he finally had a week of shore leave, and he was using it to be on the ship?  He shrugged as best he could with his and Daina’s blades locked.  “I try not to let my mind run too much,” he replied.  “It’s good to have something to occupy myself with.”

Daina stepped back and relaxed her grip on her sword, letting it angle down to the ground.  “I wanted to ask you about that,” she said.  “It’s been a rough week, it’s been a rough month, and after that chat we had in the jungle, I wanted to see where your head’s at.”  Ruskel’s face and voice remained stoic.  “My head’s on just fine, Captain.”  Daina shook her own head.  She knew he was good for duty; that wasn’t what she was asking.  An edge crept into his voice.  What was she asking?  Her expression remained intent but softened as she met his eyes again and asked the real question on her mind.

“How are you?”

There was a pause.  “Oh, I’m probably about a few thousand miles farther away from home than I’d like to be, with a bunch of people I don’t know, and a future that I can’t determine.  I’m used to taking orders, that’s kind of my happy place.  And if I can’t be back home, that’s about where I’d rather be.” 

Daina looked away as she began unwrapping the leather strips she’d used to blunt her sword for practice.  “Well, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?  We’re all a few thousand miles from home, going for a new one.”  Rus nodded.  “Valiant a cause as any.”  With that, he excused himself and went down to the docks. 

What Rus had left out of the conversation was that he hadn’t exactly asked Rickety about a job yet.  The old shipwright was barking out orders to his work crew, and squinted at Rus as the skyknight made his pitch.  Repairing ships wasn’t exactly his forte, but he was able-bodied and good at following orders.  He’d be happy just helping out with hauling timber and supplies.  Chewing on his pipe, Rickety looked Rus up and down and told him he was welcome to do so, and that he’d be paid well.  Was he planning on staying?  Rus replied that he’d be leaving on this ship when it was ready.  The old man frowned.  How long had he been at sea?  A better part of a year, Rus replied. And when was the last time he’d been in port, Rickety pressed him?   A little over a month, Rus told him.  Rickety stared at him, bewildered.  “So you’ve been at sea around a month, and you come to land, and you wanna work?” 

Rus nodded.  “I just want to keep my mind occupied is all.”  Rickety shrugged.  There was clearly something not right with Rus’ head, but he’d put him to work as asked

That evening, Trucco went looking for Conchobar, the lecherous gnome gambler whose presence at sea remained something of a mystery.  Trucco had challenged some folks to a game of cards, but there was one small problem: he didn’t know how to play.  Finding Conchobar at the tavern, the rogue reminded the gambler that he’d promised to teach Trucco his secrets.  Conchobar smirked.  A true master didn’t reveal all his secrets, but he’d be more than happy to educate Trucco in the art of losing.  Dealing out cards as some more sailors came over to join them, Conchobar took Trucco through a variety of different games, many of which he’d never played before.  Though he came away with some more experience, by the end of the evening, it proved to be a very expensive lesson.  

Trucco was used to losing money, and it didn’t bother him.  For a man of his talents, there was always more to be had.  Sitting back from the table, he asked Conchobar if he was planning to return to the ship at the end of the week.  The gnome shrugged.  Rickety’s Squibs seemed like a nice enough place, but there was nothing calling him to stay.  He’d continue sailing with Trucco and the others for now.

16 Olarune

It was late in the evening as the sounds of Trucco and Owlbear’s “fights” danced below the tavern windows.  Dinner was over, most of the crew was gathered in the common room drinking and listening to Torlan tell a story, but Rus had excused himself early.  Making his way up to his room, he shut the door and was struck by the sensation that, for the first time in a long time, he was — and he felt — alone.  He had always been quiet and kept deep inside his own head, but he was finally by himself.  On a small dresser against one wall sat the tricorn hat that had been a gift from Sandara Quinn as thanks for saving her life, and above the dresser was a small mirror.  Catching sight of himself — worn, tired, and alone at last — he put the hat on and looked in the mirror again.  It was funny what a small change could do to a person, for as Ruskel looked at himself in the mirror with his new hat on, the skyknight started realizing that he looked a little bit like a pirate now.  Memories came flooding back of his favourite Phiarlan serial: Treska the Wandering Merchant, whose exploits he’d enjoyed on many evenings at the theater in Metrol.  He had memorized many of the lines and, striking a pose, Rus puffed out his chest and spoke to the mirror.  “Them that die be the lucky ones!” he declared, doing his best to imitate Treska.  Removing his coat which remained torn and filthy from the trials of the past month, he hung it around a tall-backed chair like a mannequin of sorts as he began setting up a makeshift stage for himself.  Checking himself again in the mirror to find the perfect angle for his hat (for he must look the part of a ship’s officer now), he tried out a few more lines, this time acting to his “partner” in the coat.  “Seaward ho!” he cried.  “We’re going for treasure!  It’s the glory of the sea that turned my head—”

“What in the name of Khyber are you doin’?”

Rus whipped around with a start as Rosie Cusswell barged in.  The excitable halfling bard must have heard him through the door.  Flustered, he tried to dissuade her.  He was just inspecting his jacket, and—

Are ya practing?  Is that what you’re doin?” Rosie hollered, her voice at full tilt as always. “Come on, put on a show!”

“Oh, no, no,” Rus insisted.  “I was just inspecting my jacket.  See, it’s got this big tear in it—”  Rosie remained undeterred.  If he wasn’t practicing, what was he doing?  Playing dress-up?  As Rus continued to stumble over his words, Rosie reminded him that no one played the fiddle like her, and she could accompany his show!  Rus kept trying to fend her off, saying that he didn’t remember the words very well, and anyways, the songs from this show were landlubber songs, and not suitable for Lhazaar taverns. 

Rosie remained undeterred.  One way or another, they were putting on a show together.  Rus began to relent.  “You mean it?” he asked.  “You want to try learning one of these songs?”  With an excited string of profanity, Rosie declared that she did.  Producing a mandolin from his sea chest, Rus sat down in the chair that had served as his acting partner as Rosie pulled up a seat of her own, and the two of them began to play together.

17 Olarune

Though she did want to take some time to center herself, Captain Daina ir’Lizani’s first priority was to her ship and her crew — and that meant finding more crew.  Fourteen people weren’t nearly enough to comfortably sail a galleon, and as she’d already learned the hard way, could be disastrous if they ran into a storm or any other serious trouble on their way to their next destination.  After her sparring session with Rus, and taking some time to clear her own head, Daina had gotten down to business.  Enlisting some local children to serve as runners and criers to spread the word around the docks that she was hiring, she made her way to the tavern and asked the bartender to keep an ear out for anyone who was looking for work, and to point them her way.  He chuckled and wished her luck.  He confirmed what Rus had heard while working on the docks himself: Rickety’s Squibs wasn’t that kind of place.  Most everyone who lived here either worked for Rickety or was a family member of someone who did, and they were here for that reason.  The odds of Daina finding anyone looking to ship out were low and, the bartender added with a smirk, the kids she’d paid to spread the word knew that as well as he did, but he was sure they were enjoying spending her galifars on some sweets.  With nothing else more worth giving her time and attention to, Daina decided to claim a table in the corner and wait.  She had charts to look over, courses to plot, a ledger to write, and a list of priorities to weigh against her meager budget, and if someone did show up looking for work while she did that, all the better.

Someone did show up the next day, but not for the reason she’d hoped.  Sarina would not be sailing with them any further.  Daina was unsurprised to hear it — after all, Sarina had been one of Scourge’s sycophants, and Daina had nearly slit Sarina’s throat when she tried to raise an alarm during the mutiny — but she was surprised at Sarina’s decency to let her know.  Perhaps she’d provided some positive influence during her brief tenure as Sarina’s captain, for whatever it was worth.  Handing the other woman five more galifars to cover a few extra nights in port while she waited for a new ship, Daina wished Sarina well and went back to waiting.

It was early in the evening on the 17th when Daina’s patience finally paid off.  Looking up from her books, she saw the bartender point in her direction, and a Khorovar man and woman approached her.  Their similar features suggested that they were twins, and they both sported long blonde hair as well, though the man had a scar running down his left cheek.  Pulling up a chair directly across from Daina, he leaned his elbows on the table and gave her a calculating look. 

“Word travels quickly,” he said.  “So you need some crew, huh?”

Daina nodded.  “I’m hiring.  I’m Captain Daina.  You are?” 

“I’m Shashtroon.” He gestured at the woman “and this is Saade.”  With the Rus and the bartender’s warnings that Rickety’s Squibs wasn’t a place people came to looking for new ships to sail on fresh in her mind, Daina asked where the two of them had sailed in from, and Sashtroon replied that they’d been at Rickety’s for a while.  Daina shook her head.  That wasn’t an answer to her question.  Shashtroon remained cagey.  He and his sister had been working for Rickety for a couple of years now, and were looking for new horizons.

Daina kept pushing.  It was perhaps hypocritical considering her own circumstances, but with her and her crew’s fate still fragile, she didn’t want to take on anyone new who was running from trouble that might come back to bite them.  Shashtroon told her that they weren’t in any kind of trouble, and she was satisfied with his answer.  It was time now for him to question her.  Where was she going, and what was she paying?  Daina replied that she was paying in shares same as any other ship.  They’d be moving lots of cargo and probably people as well, and that they were more privateers than what passed for pirates in these parts.  She wasn’t above some creative ways of earning coin, but there would be certain standards she and her crew would hold to, and they would be paid in shares like everyone else.  Sannae looked at her brother, concerned.  Was there going to be enough to make it worth their while?

Daina leaned back with a small smile.  “By the end of it, there’s going to be something worth everyone’s while.  You see, we’re looking for land.”  Sannae shook her head.  “Well, we came here for the coin.”  Daina laughed.  How did they think someone could do what she wanted to do without making money?  She intended for their next port of call to be Regalport, and to pick up more work there.  Saade remained skeptical.  The work just didn’t sound lucrative.  Daina began to worry a little.  She hadn’t done anything like this before, and she could see that she wasn’t selling herself well.  Shashtroon was still showing some small signs of interest, but Daina knew she was losing Saade.  If they came as a pair, she’d need to convince them both.  She changed tactics. 

“Where were you two from?” she asked.  “Before you were at Rickety’s.”  They had come from Valenar, and Daina seized on that.  She was far from home too, and she didn’t even have one to go back to.  She leaned forward on the table, closing some of the gap between her and Shashtroon.

“Like I said, I’m here with my ship to make a better life for the folks on it.  If that’s the kind of thing you two might be interested in, then for the most part, you’ll be paid in shares like everyone else.  What I can promise you on a day-to-day is, you’ll always have a place to sleep, meals, and good folks in your corner.” 

Sashtroon looked back at her, his mouth twisted a little as if deep in thought.  “Yeah,” he said, “actually, that sounds kind of interesting.”

Saade’s eyes went wide.  She turned towards him angrily.  “Rickety’s paying us well here!” she admonished him.  “If we’re gonna leave to get shares in something, it better be shares worth value, and you’re telling us we’ll just be hauling cargo?  And you’re trying to sell me on this stuff of just living a better life?”

Daina shrugged.  “It’s what I’ve got.”

Waving his hand in a conciliatory gesture, Shashtroon got up from his chair and told Daina that he and Sannae would talk about it.  A few hours later, he returned — alone.

“Okay,” he said, “we’ll join your crew.  We’re in.”

Daina raised an eyebrow.  And his sister was okay with that?  Shashtroon assured her that she was.  Daina wondered what had prompted this change of heart, but was never one to turn down a gift given in earnest, and she and Shashtroon shook hands.

She could have sworn that, when she let go, he held on just a moment longer.

While Daina was busy holding court at the tavern, Torlan went looking for Trucco, and found the rogue nursing a bruised jaw.  Word had traveled of the scam he’d been trying to run with Owlbear’s help, staging fights in order to win bets.  Unfortunately for Trucco, the big man’s enthusiasm far outweighed his understanding, and the instructions to go easy on Trucco but make it look good had been wishful thinking on the rogue’s part.  He still insisted that it was going great, and changed the subject, complimenting the old dwarf on his new coat and beard.  Torlan preened a little and replied that if he was going to be a gentleman of the sea, he aimed to look the part.  He mused that he and Daina didn’t see eye to eye about a lot of things, and Trucco suggested that that would make him an excellent acting first mate to act as a counterbalance to her.  Torlan thanked him and got down to business.  He was intrigued by the apparent newfound idealism Trucco had been displaying in the past couple of weeks, topped off by his impassioned speech the other night about believing in the people of Cyre.  It seemed to Torlan that this new stage of their journey was an opportunity for he and his friends to do something good and right, or to do something right for themselves, and he’d always pegged Trucco as the latter sort. 

The rogue shrugged.  He hadn’t set out looking to do anything “right”, just to do…something.  Before meeting Torlan and the others, he’d been transient and without a purpose, and not thinking about one either.  But, he conceded, it seemed that having a purpose changed a person.  He still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, but this was good for now.  Torlan couldn’t help Trucco with that; he’d come looking for him because he owed the young man a favour.  He didn’t believe that he’d have survived the mutiny without Trucco skilfully dispatching the pilot and lookouts before freeing Torlan from his shackles and helping him take down Lagraa, and he didn’t like being beholden to others for too long.  So what would Trucco ask of him in return?

“Now that you mention it,” Trucco began, “there is one thing.”  He wasn’t hyping up the crowd for his “fights” with Owlbear as well as he’d like, and he needed to find a better way to introduce himself, and… Torlan cut him off incredulously.  “You want me to come up with a stage name for you?”  

“Yeah!” Trucco grinned.  “A stage name!  Something like…The Rigger-Master!  Or the Knotting Cat, because, you know, I tie knots all day working the rigging, or…Hairball!  What about Hairball?”  

Torlan held up a hand to slow Trucco down.  He was from Metrol, right?  The old skald explained that most dwarves who didn’t have a clan name took names from the places they grew up in.  Trucco’s eyes brightened.  What about Metrol’s Jaguar?  No, he could name himself after his exploits — The Scourge-Bringer!  That was a cool name, right?  Torlan agreed that those were some good names, but would it be enough to repay his debt?

Trucco hesitated.  There was one other thing he would ask of Torlan.  He remembered a time on the Storm Reaver  Torlan had told a story about a god of chaos and change: the Traveler.  Trucco had heard stories about the Traveler before, and though he didn’t know why, he was finding himself interested in those stories.  Torlan shared what he knew and told the young man that now that he was journeying with a purpose, he might start seeing a path.  One had to accept the Traveler’s gifts willingly, but with great caution as well.  He would do what he could to help Trucco on his journey, but now, it was time to find the others.  Trucco had a plan for them.

Finding Rus and Daina in the Commons, Trucco gathered his friends around and explained that he wanted their help telling the story of the capture of the Majestic Gryphon.  He would be narrator, and wanted Rus to recreate the smoke and sparks of that battle while Daina acted out the fighting.  And would she do that thing with her dragonmark, to make it glow when he got to that part of the story?  Daina thought for a second and then agreed that showing off a little might not be a bad thing.  As a crowd began to gather, Torlan called out and strummed his harp as he introduced their tale.  Trucco weaved in and out of the crowd as he told the story, getting up in their faces and jumping at the children, who laughed with glee as they pretended to be frightened (or took a swipe at him, pretending to be part of the fight) while Daina expertly danced with her sword as the blue sparks of her Guardian shield swirled and Rus sent fiery sparks and smoke billowing across the square.  At the end of it, the crowd roared with applause.  It was a performance that would surely be remembered long after the Mourners left port.

The crowd began filing into the tavern, and the Mourners did the same.  Cracking open a fresh bottle of brandy, Rus smiled and wondered if they had missed their calling.  It seemed they were meant to be traveling performers.  Daina grinned and replied that it could be an extra service they offered when in port, and Torlan asked Rus if he thought there could be a place for them on the Hand of Plenty if the Gryphon ever sank.  The Hand was a pleasure yacht Rus had worked security on during his time in the Principalities, and he’d enjoyed his time aboard.  Torlan wondered where the Hand might be found, and Rus told him that was the funny thing.  Her captain, a tiefling who called herself Fantasy, had a connection to the Narrative that let her sail the Hand to wherever good fortune was found.  That was also how she’d largely managed to avoid trouble with pirates.  Daina mused that she hoped more than ever they’d run into Captain Fantasy if she only sailed where good fortune was found, and speaking of their fortunes, she’d been thinking about that.  They still had a “guest” under their care, and Daina had a plan of what to do with her: return to the scene of the crime.  High Prince Ryger, she believed, would be very interested in the gift of Mika Rockface’s second in command, who had come to Regalport and violated a standing if unspoken truce by press-ganging people right out from under Ryger’s nose.  

“It’s a bold move,” Rus stated.  “It’s time to be bold” Daina replied.  Regalport was also where Torlan had been looking for an old friend and former captain named Alexei Aarland when he and Daina were abducted, and wanted to resume his interrupted search.  Rus supported these plans, but cautioned that it would make more sense to make a detour south to Cliffscrape first.  They needed more people and supplies before sailing as far as Regalport, and they weren’t going to find either at Rickety’s Squibs.  Trucco piped up that he knew people in Cliffscrape, some of whom might even be willing to help him, and Torlan noted that there was a large dwarven presence there.

The captain raised her glass to her friends.  It was decided.  Once the repairs and squibbing were complete, they’d go to Cliffscrape, find enough crew for the next leg of their journey, and return to Regalport with their heads held high.

But there were still a few more days before they could set sail, and one of those days was going to prove difficult.  The Mourners were busy looking forward to the future, but none of them had forgotten the past.

Behind the Scenes

  • We kicked off this session with everyone doing an Interlude.  Interludes are a wonderful Savage Worlds storytelling mechanic that Phillip explains in more detail here.  The short version is that everyone draws a card, and takes a turn in the GM seat narrating a prompt according to what suit of card they drew.  Interludes are a unique moment for players to take control of their story by running a scene, and while they are often individual, they can be done with other players as well.
    • Michael (Torlan) drew Diamonds and told a story of something his hero wants.
    • I (Elly – Daina) drew Spades and told the story of a great victory or personal triumph, against the backdrop of one of my favourite film tropes: talking while sparring.  Before doing this Interlude, I asked Kevin’s permission to include Rus in it and narrate some things on his behalf, and during it I also invited him to jump it and respond or narrate as he felt inclined to.
    • Ernesto (Trucco) drew Hearts and told a story of his hero practicing a skill.
    • Kevin (Rus) drew Diamonds and asked if he could interpret his prompt more loosely, which Phillip welcomed.     
  • While at Rickety’s Squibs for a week, we also were given the opportunity to do some Downtime.  Downtime is a variety of activities we can engage in that are abstracted over the entire week and result in some kind of benefit.  Options at Rickety’s are limited, because it’s more of a settlement than it is a port of call, but Rus and Trucco both decided to use their Downtime to earn some money contingent on successful skill rolls appropriate to their tasks.  Rus is abstracting this by doing manual labour for Rickety, and Trucco is abstracting this as staging fights to scam people.  Full Downtime rules can be found in Pathfinder for Savage Worlds.
  • The epic re-enactment of the taking of the Majestic Gryphon was another tale told for Glory, which we first saw in the previous session.  Trucco made the roll and we all supported him, and after succeeding at the performance with two raises, he rolled the maximum Glory we could get from it (2d6, no acing, and he rolled a 12).
    • Last time, I noted that we would be choosing Glory benefits at the start of this session.  Daina and Torlan both chose the Heroic Status edge (+1 to Persuasion, Intimidation, and Networking rolls using those skills)
    • Rus took a combat edge: Improved Level-Headed.  He now draws three action cards per round and chooses which one he acts on.
    • Trucco also took a combat edge: Killer Instinct.  He now has a free reroll on any Test he initiates.
  • If it seems a little strange that Daina managed to convince Shashtroon and Sannae to join the crew after her somewhat disastrous hiring pitch, that wasn’t the result of a good roll…it was the result of everyone’s favourite adventure card!  
What’s the worst that could happen?

This is actually the second time I’ve drawn this card during this campaign, but look, I wasn’t about to spend it on some lousy Cloud Reaver. Torlan’s the one who’s sweet on Mika Rockface, not me.

  • Something new we did at the end of this session was go around the table listing our favourite moments of the night.
    • Michael called out Ruskel’s Interlude giving a wonderful performance to his mirror.
    • Ernesto’s favourite moment was Daina’s Interlude of sparring with Rus while telling him a story.
    • Kevin loved our Glory performance that drew the whole party together to show off our mettle, make a name for ourselves, and do it in style.
    • I (Elly) especially enjoyed the scene in which Torlan told Trucco he was indebted to him, and all Trucco wanted in return was for the old skald to give him a really good stage name.

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