D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones

[Quickleaf]

Spell & Crossbones: Out-of-Game Thread

Rogues' Gallery (PCs & Henchmen)

Encounter Tables

The Buccaneer's Bestiary (Monsters & NPCs)

[SBLOCK=Quests]
Current Quests
These are the current quests your party is aware of. Quests in dark orange have been completed. Many more quests are still undiscovered, particularly crew quests. Bear in mind that a sloop or schooner (like The Coral Curse) requires 50 men, a brigantine 120 men, and a brig or pinnace 180+ men.

Ship Quests
Get The Coral Curse from Blackbeard
Exorcise the dark spirit haunting The Coral Curse

Crew Quests
Blundering pirates at tavern (12 cannon fodder)
Dwarven deserters (13 sailors)
Captain Piet Hien Van Djik's survivors of The Coral Curse (10 old salts)
Latvian mercenaries (9 pirates, armed)
French buccaneers (12 buccaneers, armed)

Supply Quests
Get supplies for your ocean voyage
Get pox medicine for the crew[/SBLOCK]
[SBLOCK=Nassau Bulletin Board: The Seahorse]
Nassau Bulletin Board: The Seahorse

• Missing! Butcher Rolf Swinerton: Ms. Jane Swinerton is offering forty-five crowns (45 electrum pieces) for information regarding her husband Rolf who has been missing for three days.
• Missing! 32 Plantation workers: Madame "Mambo" Asizwe is offering a livres tournois (1 electrum piece) per worker returned in a fair state to her tobacco plantation.
• Seeking! Competent physician's assistant: 8-month minimum commitment. Inquire with Dr. Jim Flichard at the Camory estate.
• Seeking! Seasoned divers: Able seamen preferred. Inquire with Captain Read Wallace of the Winchelsea.
• Help! Goblins stole my rum: Three goblins stole several crates of quality rum from my shop. Five pounds (5 gp) and a bottle to whoever gets my rum back! -Moray the provisioner.
• For Hire! Arnaud and his Buccaneers: Skilled buccaneers seek culinarily-inclined captain. Inquire at tents on Northwest Point Beach near Lake Killarney.
• Blacklisted! Kristups Gruendemann: Don't hire this gnome as ship shantyman! He'll try to convince you he knows of a treasure in the sea caves, but it's bollocks! More trouble than he's worth, matey! -Anonymous.
• Public Execution! March 14: On the morning of the 14th nine Spanish navy men shall be hung by the neck until dead in the square for seditious acts while surrendr'd, by order of Blackbeard.
• Contest! 7th Annual Tree Frog Licking: On the afternoon of the 17th. Register with Peachy Nobkins under the big palm tree on the hill. Volunteer healers also needed.

[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Current Characters & Ship Duties]
Katerina del Corazón (captain) [MENTION=8058]Queenie[/MENTION]
"Old Zef" (boatswain/carpenter) [MENTION=2820]Fenris[/MENTION]
Nia Steeleyes (sailing master) [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION]
Blaise Arceneau (gunner) [MENTION=20005]Matthan[/MENTION]
Flynn "The Firebrand" (surgeon) [MENTION=48394]pathfinderq1[/MENTION]
Etienne Rougeau (quartermaster) [MENTION=6787234]peterka99[/MENTION]
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=List of Estimated Expenses (~1,500 gp)]
The NPC pursuer Badouin provided you with this list is for outfitting a 1-month treasure-hunting voyage with a crew of about 50 men. It does not include a diving bell, which would be a huuuge expense probably close to 4,000 gp.

Melee Weapons - 365 gp
50 handaxes 250 gp
20 boarding pikes 100 gp
25 marlinspikes (daggers) 15 gp

Food & Drink - 302 gp
Month’s provisions for sixty men (3 tons) (water, bouillon, oatmeal, flour, salted meat, hardtack, peas, beans, salt, etc) 150 gp
4 barrels of rum 120 gp
Barrel of assorted fruit (oranges, limes, pineapples, sopadillas, sour-sops) 15 gp
Chef’s cooking spices & culinary tools 12 gp
2 goats, some chickens, and a pig 5 gp
Month’s feed for two livestock 3 gp

Naval Supplies - 296 gp
Ship’s bell 60 gp
Bilge pump 50 gp
Five lanterns (four hooded, one beacon) 30 gp
Spare main sail and spars 25 gp
Hourglass 25 gp
Bunk cots and linens for sixty men 25 gp
Chest, lock, and key 15 gp
Lamp oil, pipe (105 gallons) 12 gp
Ship’s logbook, oversized waterproofed vellum 10 gp
Ink bottle (1 ounce) and pen, 10 gp
Scuttlebutt, 4 empty barrels, buckets and mops 10 gp
5 block and tackle 5 gp
Cordage, sounding lines, three lengths of 50-ft hempen rope 5 gp
Two sculling oars 4 gp
Captain’s chart table 4 gp
Two fishing nets and ocean fishing tackle 3 gp
20 square yards of patching canvas 2 gp
Signal flags 1 gp

Firearms - 275 gp
25 pistols 250 gp
600 bullets and powder 25 gp

Auxiliry Craft - 157 gp
One ship’s boat (1 ton) 150 gp
4 oars and a hand pump 7 gp

Cannon Supplies - 105 gp
400 shot and powder (4 tons) for culverins 80 gp
200 shot and powder (1 ton) for demi-culverins 20 gp
Cannon cleaning tools 5 gp
[/SBLOCK]

1. The Coral Curse

Nassau, 12th March 1712​

For a man of means, Claude du Tourbillon is dressed down. He wears neither wig nor hose, instead opting for a brushed grey jacket and slacks, a fine white silk handkerchief emerging from his vest betraying the man's affluence. Everything about setting up the meeting was discreet. No definitive statements were made, always thru a charming intermediary or messenger boy, and the meeting place changed at the last minute from the Colonial Hotel to Blackreef's Tavern. No one in Nassau knew of the man beyond his reputation as a wealthy gentleman in France with his fingers in several trading companies. After two days of giving you the runaround, here was the man in the flesh sitting at a table in Blackreef's that evening, an unassuming Frenchman obviously out of his element among the cacophony of drunk pirates, Latvian mercenaries, French buccaneers, and grumbling dwarves.

"Madames. Messieurs." He stands up halfway and gives a curt bow before settling back down. "My name is Claude du Tourbillon. I apologize for the smoke and mirrors. Given the current political climate you can understand why I should take precautions." Two burly bodyguards stand nearby, relaxed but at the ready, their faces marked with geometric tattoos you don't recognize from the Caribbean. Clearly Claude du Tourbillon did some digging on you as well, though if he'd dug a bit deeper he would surely have brought more than just two bodyguards. Clearing his throat into his handkerchief, he adjusts a sealed bottle of calvados and fidgets with several glasses on the table. Your impression of the middle-aged man is that he may be something of a hermit accustomed to working thru intermediaries.

"I confess, this is my first time to the West Indies," he explains in his thick accent. Those of you familiar with France and its language recognize his brogue as Northern French, though his surname is peculiar. "Having read the accounts of the Baron du Pointis' raid on Cartagena, and having sponsored other trading companies in these parts, I have thus far found your islands tout à fait fascinant. However, one thing interests me above all. Lè Gloriosa du Mere." At the mention of the name, several drunk sailors glance over from their eternal vigil over their cups and make warding signs. Noticing this, Claude leans in closer speaking in a hushed voice. "I recently learned that a close confidante of du Pointis, a woman named Clarice Chedreu, has retired on a small island where she lives a life of luxury and is served on hand and foot by...how do you say...pygmies?" His pronunciation of the unfamiliar word is horrendously nasal. "Judging by her wealth, it is transparent Madame Chedreu recieved a share of the treasure taken from Cartagena. What is notable is that Madame Chedreu maintained contact with a spy in Cartagena thru a magic lantern, a fact I gleaned from du Pointis himself boasting over cognac one evening. The spy has not been seen or heard from in 15 years...trust me, I spared no expense hiring diviners...I believe the spy went down with Lè Gloriosa and communicated the fate of the ship to Madame Chedreu before his death."

The financier before you pauses to let the weight of what he has just shared sink in. La Gloriosa del Mar. At last a fresh lead no one else knows about. "My previous enterprises allow me to fund an expedition to find Lè Gloriosa. However, I am no seaman, and I need skilled and cunning minds to represent my interests, acquire a ship and crew, manage logistics, et ansi de suite." He gestures to you. "I trust I've piqued your interest? Shall we discuss terms?"

OOC: Madames. Messieurs. = ladies, gentlemen calvados = apple brandy from Normandy tout à fait fascinant = quite fascinating et ansi de suite = and so forth

 

[Queenie]

The woman at the back of the table whose face had been hidden by a large, black hat, cleared her throat as she sat straight up. Long, black wavy hair flowed out from under the hat and a distinctly feminine voice spoke confidently. "I can't speak for the rest of these associates of yours but you have interested me somewhat. Before we discuss any terms, what is your interest in the Gloriosa? I am certain we all gathered here have our own reasons but it's yours I am most curious about at the moment." She lifted her head to reveal the face under the hat; full red lips and almond shaped green eyes peered out. A small monkey in mini pantaloons and a Fez sat upon her shoulder, looking over the group. Her exotic sea green eyes bore only into the Frenchman. "What exactly is it you are looking to gain, Tourbillon?"

 

[fireinthedust]

Doctor Hawken Varlok sits at the table in his long black coat, the sort of coat worn by military officers, with its buttons and folds, though it is clearly not the colors of any nation. One hand holds his glass while the other is tucked into his coat and vest, hidden from view yet in the respectable way of a man of learning. It is his posture that shows this, even as his trousers and boots are the worn attire of a man of adventure. As humble as their surroundings, Doctor Varlock holds himself with as much self-assurance as the silk-wrapped Frenchman.

The good doctor listens well to their patron, despite appearing to look into the depths of his drink as he turns the wine about to see its legs. His eyes look up quickly when the sailors surrounding them cross themselves, and he is careful not to look directly at them, either, for fear of his strange eyes drawing the attention of such simple, superstitious men...

You want us to find a sunken ship? I hope your diviners drew an excellent map, then; unless we're to go to your Madam and her Pygmies for what share of the treasure hasn't been frittered away on luxuries? Or, as has been said, have you... some object or personage more interesting in need of recovery?

 

[Quickleaf]

du Tourbillon nods to the buxom Spanish woman, though his gaze is immediately taken up by the monkey. The priceless wide-eyed expression on his face makes it clear the man has not seen one in person. It is the first chink in his professional demeanor you've seen thus far. "Katarina du Corazon, if I am not mistaken? The sailors I spoke with spoke highly of you. Sacrebleu! This must be a baboon? I have seen them in texts, but they have not yet come to the Societie Zoologique in Paris. Forgive me, I am something of a naturalist and am fascinated by new specimens."

Collecting himself, Claude du Tourbillon nods, "Oui, it is a reasonable inquiry. I became familiar with the value of a successful shipwreck expedition when I financed salvage of the Dutch vessel Reigersberg. True I had my share of failed expeditions, but I am far wiser now than I was in my youth. Lè Gloriosa is another venture altogether. When du Pointis retired after the raid on Cartagena, by some estimates he had over ten million livres tournois (electrum pieces) to his name, and perhaps twice that. If even a portion of such wealth sunk with Lè Gloriosa, well... we will be very rich men and women should we succeed in finding her."

There is a flicker of emotion in his eyes, and du Tourbillon looks down to collect himself. It is evident money is not his only interest. "Yet, there is another reason, a personal one. A man dear to me, whom I raised like my own son, was lost at sea aboard a French navy ship and, as I would learn only years later, became a boucanier. He took part in the raid on Cartagena..." The matter is clearly difficult for du Tourbillon to talk about, and he clears his throat. "His fellow boucaniers reported him taken captive by Javier Hernandez, Captain of Lè Gloriosa during the raid. So, you see, I need to learn what became of my son."

[SBLOCK=The Rules Box]
A Wisdom (Insight) check might shed light on one of du Tourbillon's Bonds, Flaws, Ideals, or Personality Traits. You choose which you're trying to ascertain when you make the check.

An Intelligence (History) check by Hugo Van Haan, Old Zef, or Gunner Teague might recall pertinent details of the Reigersberg shipwreck.
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Hannerdyn]

Hugo Van Haan

At the center of the table sits the dwarf Hugo Van Haan, reclined, his fingers making a steeple upon his ample belly. He takes a moment to study the bottle of calvados with a heavy brass monocle, noting the origin and year.

His coat was green, but subtle enough to miss being garish. The silver buttons were recently cleaned and his kerchief was that dirty-white that alerted everyone that he had no talent for laundry. He wore no hat, as was custom for dwarves, and instead proudly showed off a head of hair boldly red and cut to reveal two long strips of scalp on either side of his head. This combined with the intricate braiding of both hair and beard showed him to be of a house of some low nobility, that he was the third of seven sons, and that he had seen 25 winters. brass rings and wax held all the details of his hair in place.

This aside, he was ugly. His nose was red, his eyes over-large, green and kind. There was scarring from a burn or perhaps a disease on one side of his face, and his ruddy pink hide seemed forever on the verge of blistering.

Du Tourbillon had assembled a crew, and most of them look clean and alert, which meant they're likely as desperate for work as was Hugo. Old Zef was there as well, which was fortunate. As desperate as he was for an income it was always difficult when you knew no one aboard. Zef was as able a seaman as one could find, so judging by the quality of that one shrewd choice (and the quality of the calvados) Hugo decided du Tourbillon was a fit employer.

"I'm sorry man. To lose a son is the most gutting of life's injuries... Tell me, what was the boy's name?"


OOC: Intelligence check on knowing some details of the Reigersberg. 1d20+3=6

 

[Quickleaf]

Even a fresh-off-the-boat Frenchman like du Tourbillon knows better than to speak of a dwarf's beard. Thus, he diplomatically crosses his fingers together, leaning forward on his elbows and nods deferentially to Hugo. "Indeed. My thanks, Messieur. By...your monocle..." And here his eyes move from that unavoidable waxy beard to Hugo Van Haan's face. "...am I right to take you for Meneer Hugo Van Haan? You were quite the figure in the Hague, or so I was led to believe. Surely you can a appreciate a 1701 Année de requin des terres? The creature called the Bulette ravaged the Normandy countryside, but after its death, the turned soils from its passage made that first year's harvest incredible. The perfect balance of apple and pear..." While the man does seem to indeed be a connoisseur, it is evident he is stalling answer to Hugo's question. His voice grows a bit quieter. "...crispness and age...I brought it to celebrate once we come to accord."

du Tourbillon sighs. No avoiding the question, it would seem. "His name is Emanuel Wynn. Though not my son by birth, I have always regarded him as such since his own father passed away."

[SBLOCK=The Rules Box]
Hugo - Intelligence (history): Hugo merely recognizes the Reigersberg as a Dutch military vessel lost at sea in battle with the French during the War of Spanish Succession.

Anyone with the Sailor background or who has fought in the Spanish War of Succession in the Caribbean can make an Intelligence (history) check to recall pertinent information about Emanuel Wynn. However, a high roll means you crossed paths with Emanuel Wynn as an enemy.

Année de requin des terres means "Year of the land shark" in French.

Meneer means "Mister" in Dutch.
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Unsung]

The old man sits taciturn, a little aback of the others, a pewter mug in one hand. The old man's chest and arms are covered in an unspeakable collection of tattoos, some skillful, some obscene, and some barely more than a scrawl. All of them are faded with exposure to sun and sea. His face is a ruin, cheeks caved in, skin shriveled and moon-tanned, more gray than red. A thick band of calfskin covering his left eye looks to be his sole accommodation to his own comfort and the formality of the situation. Thin white scars stretch around his skull and perforate his left ear. His remaining hair is peppery and cropped close to his head. His jaw is set.

His name, overheard in passing, seems to be only Teague. By reputation he's spent more time on the sea than off it, and all told that's longer than many of those assembled had been alive. Barring Old Zef, that is.

His one eye swivels like a hawk's, brown, almost gold like a hawk's as well. It fixes on du Tourbillon for a moment-- [Wisdom (Insight) check - du Tourbillon's Ideals, 1d20 (9) + 3 Wis = 12] --then passes on.

 

[Quickleaf]

"And that is why, cher associés," du Tourbillon says, looking over his interlaced hands at Doctor Hawken, "I want you to find a sunken ship. Indeed, Madame Chedrue's island is your first destination. To discover what she learned from the spy aboard Lè Gloriosa before it went down. A bearing or emergency course of action, avec de la chance." He squints at Doctor Hawken's eyes, clearly a bit unnerved by the strangeness of them, even more so when coupled with the unyielding one-eyed gaze of Gunner Teague. Addressing Doctor Hawken, he inquires, "I do not believe I recognize you. What is your name, Messieur? Ah, wait, by your countenance you must be the surgeon? Might I ask, where did you study medicine or did you acquire your skills at sea?"

[SBLOCK=The Rules Box]
Gunner Teague - Wisdom (Insight) check: While Teague and du Tourbillon couldn't be more unlike one another, there is something about the man's passions that strike a chord. Just as Teague has two ideals - Fairness and Might - that might be opposed were it not for the man Teague is, similarly du Tourbillon seems a man with competing ideals, only they pull at him like opposite ends of a line held in tension.

Cher associés means "dear associates" in French.

Avec de la chance means "with luck" in French.
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Unsung]

Teague mistrusts the Frenchman at a glance, but that means little. The man is French, after all, and Teague is English. Besides which, trust had never rated very high in his book. The fellow who fitted your wrists for shackles might one day become your greatest friend, just as those who held a knife to your throat and stole from you might be the ones you missed the most, come your dying day.

Still, Teague holds his peace. Though past captors had not spared him the lash in kind, more than once he'd kept his tongue by keeping his silence. Instead his thoughts turn to the wreck of the Gloriosa. He'd seen her in port once, and the name had well-suited the ship, from rudder to bowsprit. Her cargo, the treasure for which the ship was lost, weighed on him. The piece of it he carried weighed still more. They pulled at each other like two lodestones, and Teague was dragged in their wake.

Teague knows his place, will not speak out of turn when his lady-captain is dealing business. Perhaps later... Unless there was something he had forgotten. About... The Reigersberg? Was that that Dutch wreck's name? [Intelligence (History) check - The wreck of the Reigersberg, 1d20 (12) + -1 = 11]

 

[Kobold Stew]

Jim is naturally cautious around the French -- who wouldn't be? -- and he's not certain he can get a read on this one.

[Insight to determine bonds; 1d20+3=9.]

He steps up, and he removes his hat, so that his eyes can be seen. "If I may, sir. James Barrington. The only relevant issues [a word he pronounces "iss-youse"] are the practicalities. What resources will you provide to the expedition, and what returns do you seek? Do you know of rival expeditions operating on this chase with whom we shall be in competition? Hm. Other things. If you are not to travel with us, do you intend to send a representative? And, finally, if we accept this ... invitation ... are we obliged to sail under a French flag? Un drap-o frawn-say, what?" He turns to the assembled crowd and raises his eyebrows, the corners of his lips pushed down as if he had encountered a repugnant odour. He hopes to elicit some smiles with this sentiment, and his mispronunciation of un drapeau francais. But beneath it lies a serious concern... is this expedition connected to the French government and le Roi Soleil? Or is he using another crew in pursuit of goals that might be hostile to the Sun King?

Jim turns back to their host, and pours himself a glass of wine from the bottle in front of du Tourbillon. There is a supercilious smirk on his face, English hauteur, but his concerns are presented as businesslike and practical.