Pressmore & Glenna
The patter of rain continued to drum upon the grated floor of the hatchway, in addition to the drone was the flash of lightning and boom of thunder. The winds had ceased their howling for a time, the Oaken was drifting in the eye of the storm. Under a pilot’s guidance, the ship made lazy circles, flowing in the same direction as the storm. All effort made to keep the ship as stable as possible. As they stood, their bodies swayed with the motion of the ship. Back and forth, like a gentle pendulum.
“We have to get her down from there,” Glenna said as she loaded another shotgun shell into the breach, “I think the lass has a bruised or broken rib. Either way, it’s agony for her to try and move in her present state.” With the shell loaded she pumped another round into the chamber.
“You’ve got to do something for her,” Glenna said.
“I’m sorry, me?” Presmore blinked in sudden realization and looked at the Dwarf.
“Aye, you have to get up there and treat her condition, or at least treat it so she can climb back down and we can button up,” Glenna said, “Don’t you have some magic or some sort?”
<Magic Item Check: Does Pressmore’s kit include a healing potion? 35% Yes with a result of: 05%. Exceptional Yes>
Bastagan Pressmore looked from Glenna down to his bag. It was true, he had some health potions <1D Health Potions results in 4>, he was also content with sharing what he had with his traveling companions as they were helping him travel to his new job. He had also appreciated that he had found quiet accommodations at a reasonable price in exchange for such aid he could provide. The moment appeared as a perfect opportunity to help, with but one lingering reservation.
“You sure you killed that thing on the roof?” He asked. His tone was grave and lacked any note of sarcasm or mirth. His hand tightened on the handle of his case as he asked the question.
“I thought I killed it. I mean, I definitely hit it with the buckshot…”
Eliza recalled that the last thing her mother, Florence Stillwater, told her before the two parted on the airship dock in Ilysium was: “Keep the ship. It’ll serve as an adequate home for a girl without a family.”
Eliza was the first one to turn away, after a hard stare between her and House Matriarch, she had showed her back to the woman. She had wondered if her mother would have tried something right then. A poisoned dart to the back, a death spell that she had learned from their vast arcane library. Lady Stillwater had lacked the raw arcane talent like Eliza’s sister, Meriweather had possessed, but Florence did possess both an arcane knack and a natural cunning. By her grace, and maybe a little luck, Florence was able to board and leave.
That was nearly a year ago. In the present, Eliza fought back ears as every action of life made her chest ache. No position was perfect, every inch of movement was marked with a shock of pain. Some of the shocks were short, fading quickly as she settled, but then a tremor would quake through the ship, or the movement of her torso coincided with a movement of her hip and together created a blossom of pain that was deep and throbbing into her side.
Those heavier jolts caused her to halt all activity and close her eye. The pain was so intense that she yelped in pain from the shock. Compounding her injuries was the constant spray of cold water, soaking her shirt and skin right to the bone. Within the eye of the storm, the wind had died into a constrained breezes that magnified the chill she felt. She swore if she got out of this she would, after downing a bottle of whiskey and rye, that she soak in her tub and remain until they touched down on Landfall. She had cursed the storms vocally and without shame. Quietly, she cursed Pressmore for needing to be in Landfall in a timely manner and Snaptongue for needing to cut through the storm which was occupied by these creatures.
<Does the creature begin to move? 35% Yes results in: 83%>
Eliza glared at the body laid out on the deck. Her voice picked up again after all her quiet cursing, it had to also wait for the pain to subside into a dull ache before the words left her mouth.
“You really had to come up here you bastard and mess with my ship?” She used her throat and tongue to gather a wad of spit. After a breath she leaned forward and spat on the gray humanoid.
<Agility 3D+1 - 1D for 2D+1 vs. TN: 15 - 10 = 5. Result is: 5; Wit: 3D - 1D = 2D vs. TN 12 to Identify the creature. Result is: 4>
The bubbling wad of spit hit the wispy hair of the creature and scattered as it struck. Droplets ran down the lengths of hair while other beads clung to the top. She tried to recall just what exactly was she dealing with on her ship. She couldn’t place the name at that moment, the pain flowing through her made it difficult to concentrate.
She looked up at the noise coming from the hatch. Metal scraped against metal as the top was open and coming out to join her was the Gnome. He said, “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Terrible, you’ve got something to help me out here, Professor?” She asked.
<Does the creature begin to stir? 50% Yes with a result of: 74%>
Pressmore had with him his little black bag as he knelt beside her. His voice was quiet, soothing as he spoke over the rain, “Thankfully I stocked up before we left Point Rook.” Pressmore uncorked the health potion and asked Captain Stillwater to oblige him by tilting her head back and opening her mouth so he could pour the sweet tasting liquid down her throat. As she imbibed, the shock of pain was replaced by a soothing warmth that masked the ache. As bones, sinews, and flesh began to mend the warmth shifted in its intensity to cover the sharp pains she would have felt. The process left her with a distant ache and vanished as she gingerly moved her body.
<Search check Pressmore (5D) vs. Gremlin’s Stealth (5D) = 22 & 19>
Pressmore patted her hand. He was relieved she had recovered from her wound, that relief very present on his face and within himself marveled how quickly such light feelings changed when he heard the wet slap of skin on the ground. He looked behind to see the Gremlin standing the wing. It’s forked tongue drawing across its lips as it watched him.
GM: 2 of Spades
Pressmore: 9 Clubs
<Eliza gets the Joker and is healed. Her Joker grants her a bonus Wild Die that may also explode. She raises her pistol and fires twice at the Goblin. The roll code becomes: 4D+1-1D for a total of 3D+1 + Joker Die vs. Defense: 15. Results of both shots result in: 14 & 15. Miss & Hit! With Final damage totaling: 26 - 11 = 15.>
Eliza’s pistol rose up and fired two shots. The first grazed the Gremlin’s cheek while the second one, back by her rage and carried by luck, planted itself between the Gremlin’s eyes. The shot planted itself between the eyes and knocked the creature to the ground, black blood poured from the open wound as it laid there. Whatever spark of life that existed faded from the gremlin, its fingers and toes twitched involuntary before the body stilled.
“Glenna,” Eliza said over her shoulder. She could see the silhouette of the Dwarf above her with shotgun in hand, “Please get that mess off my wing,” Eliza said, “I’ll be below if you need me.”
“Aye, I’ll do that,” Glenna said. It took some work, slow steps as persons changed position in such an inconvenient location along the flat upper deck of the drifting skyship. It took an extra nudge by Glenna’s boot, but she managed to kick the body of the Gremlin into the storm clouds below. The ship made another circle before it pushed back into the storm and at an agonizing pace limped through the maelstrom towards Landfall City.
The crew was ever watchful as they moved. Their figures tense as they looked to the storm clouds to spot another gremlin in their midst.