The Children's Campaign

Bold Strokes

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This Way or That

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New Tattoos

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Up Next... Ink Well Earned

Even before sunrise their was always much afoot along the quay of El Lay. There appears to be none of that as you stroke silently into the bay.

Still hidden by the shadowy darkness of pre-dawn you approach the quay off to your left lies chained the Dark Ship with Black Sails a soft and steady lapping is heard as the waves break upon the waterline. carved in large arcing letters across the stern is the word E M P E R O R.

Roll. Wis- there is missing the usual smells of the early morning… Bread… Wood… Work…

Roll Int-,There is a shrill whistling of an early morning bird… Only it isn’t quite an early morning bird… Sparks… it sounds like Sparks the sound he would always make when he was warning you off of his hunt.

He got the nickname Sparks from always making his arrowheads… the sparks flying as he honed and struck down the flint to the perfect shape and size.

From the sound of it, hes in the close encroaching jungle past the end of the dock town proper.

Pulling the battered launch to shore they are set upon by filthy, sailors.

Amid the sounds of combat, from the bay rises a single clang. One Bell. The end of the dog watch. Four hours till dawn.

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An Unsteady Voyage

The boyos make the boat shipshape new mast installed they leave Dragoon Lagoon to the Peddler and El Lay. Upon exiting the straits their is a longboat paddling at an aggressive angle towards them as they attempt for the first time to tack the boat around. As they sails luff it passes their stern and all hear a deep “thomp” as a grapple catches tight to the tiller. the longboat then backs forcing the wheel from the hands of the young sailors trying to keep it true to course. Turning them further past their point and soon a sickly grind is heard from the hull as they come aground upon a hidden sandbar.

Boarded by a wretched group of scurvy dogs who’s arms are filled with tattoos burned off in the ritual dishonor of the pirate way.

They fight and for mere boys fighting full grown men make a good showing for themselves. Downing two of the brigands in dark red pools of their own life’s blood. But at last they are undone.

All but one jumps to safety. The last, Skynner, is hurled near dead or dying over the rail and into the dark waters. He is rescued and against age an any real know how saved by his fellows. But the ship, she is lost. For while the boys managed to lay ill to two of the dogs, one, well bloodied and maddened by it races the rails of the ship doing his seasoned best to rig the craft and get it released from the sandbar before the tide fully ebbed.

The boyos, all tattered and wounded into the longboat climb and begin to stroke across the shallows. Away from Hagyn and the ship they’d taken and refitted. Back they stroked. Back toward El Lay, back toward the Peddler and the only real home they’ve ever known.

Dread, Judge, Fred, and Tim, no longer mostly dead, but still quite peaked character have been paddling in the somewhat rotting longboat for hours, always hugging the shoreline until finally just as the coming sun has painted the faintest of pink the deep waters of the sea off to their port, they see in the distance, El Lay. Approaching in the ebb tide of the pre dawn, they notice a very yar ship moored out from the quay, it’s blac sails tied and furled, their color keeping it all but invisible until now.

“Put yer backs into it lads!” said Dread, “I am” said another. “I’ll be the judge of that!” said a third with a laughing grunt, bending an oar of his own.

And so, in the stillness of the pre dawn morning, toward the vacant docks of El Lay, the bleak black sailed vessel looming larger and larger in their sight, they rowed on.

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Children of the Peddler
A blog for your campaign

The timed beat of the rower’s drum was heard for a quarter of an hour before the barge came into view. The ship she towed was a mess of downed lines torn sheets and fouled rigging. Talleyman hid quayside among the barrels and crates until the ship in tow was left deserted then he darted on board, followed with curses by the usual suspects.

As the group of miscreants descended into to belly of the crushed merchantman they came into the main cargo bay quite quickly.

As peddlers’ they were all well versed in the art of being invisible an were accomplished plunderers of any and all things not nailed down.

In the ship’s hold the youngsters found more signs of the continuing carnage. A dead crewman, and two dead orcs had battled among the crates and barrels, all three laid where they fell.

In the crates and barrels the boys found something more precious than gold.

Food.

As orphans of the whores of El Lay the lot of them had grown up as urchins of the street, lean and hungry.

There were barrels full of rolled pepper sausage others full of jerked beast.

As they descended upon the stores there were footsteps and voices from the deck above as orders were given responded to and followed.

The rower’s drum began to pound its tattoo. The ship began to move away from the quay of El Lay.

Trapped below deck several things were thrown overboard. Then Skynnr jumped overboard to get away. He was caught up in the sail, so he cut himself free. And found himself caught up by a trailing line which wrapped around his ankle and drug him along behind the ship, half drowning. The captain Race spied him and pulled him back aboard.

The ship was towed to a secluded lagoon. Dragonne Lagoon to the ship outfitter there would replace the broken mast.

A quay came into view and 2 boys standing there ran to one of the several buildings peppering this area of the lagoon, returning in tow of a hulking blond haired man in his prime. Race the ship outfitter.

As the boys secured the ship to the quay by heavy lines. Then one, the oldest fetched a torch. Along the shore line was a squat stone tower some 15 feet tall, with a large hammered metal urn set atop it and a ladder along one side. Returning with the torch he looked to the man Skelly, his da, who gave him a curt nod. He then climbed the ladder an set torch to the urn setting atop the tower. It caught in an instant burning blue and orange in the setting of the day.

Skelly called out to captain Race to come ashore to talk of the repairs. " The woman is setting the end day on the table now, bring yer monkey and we’ll talk of the repairs."

By now the tow boat its drum beat retreating into the distance had left the lagoon. The captain called out to the boys locked in below that he and young skynnr would be back, then he left.

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