conversations: human
conversations:  Welcome To The Sweet Trade  
   Come all you young sailor men, listen to me,
  I'll sing you a song of the fish in the sea;
  
  And it's...
  Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys,
  When the wind blows, we're all together, boys;
  Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow,
  Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes... 
  
  The refrains of the previous nights singing ring heavily in your head... as does the start of a marvelous hangover.
  
  You smell seawater, fresh and strong, and a hint of the district scent of people cooped up in one place for too long - sweat, blood and rum.
  
  You are sitting in the hold of a boat. A dingy, horrid hold at that.
conversations: whiskytangofoxt:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Urghhh..." 
  
  When Grathel awoke, it was with a splitting headache and the feeling that the floor was moving underneath his body. Rubbing his forehead, the elf sat up and tried to get his bearings. Looking around, he realized that there was a reason for his unsteadiness. While there wasn't much light to see by, he could tell that he was in the hold of the ship. The smell of salt and unwashed men assaulted his nose. He frowned, wondering how he had managed to get here. Last thing he remembered was being at the Formidably Maid having a couple of drinks and swapping stories of the sea. There was a sea shanty being sung and then... nothing. Someone must have spiked his drink and stole away with him.
  
  Then he realized he wasn't alone in the hold. He could make out the the forms of a few humans and... a hobgoblin? Grathel grimaced. He didn't deserve this. Still, it seemed they were all in the same plight he was. Maybe it would be best to rouse them and get their take on the situation.  "Hey, are you guys- urf."  The elf was suddenly struck with with a wave a nausea. The stench, the movement of the ship, the alcohol and whatever he was drugged with had caught up with him. Turning aside, he started throwing up what was left of of the meal he had at the bar.  "Pleasant,"  he muttered between retches.  "They could killed me with whatever they spiked my drink with..." 
  
  Once his stomach had settled down he rested and tried to figure out more about their current situation.
  
   
   Spoiler: OOC 
  Perception  (1d20)[ 9 ] 
  Know: Engineering to figure out what type of ship this is  (1d20+8)[ 19 ] 
  Know: Local to figure out potential kidnappers  (1d20+8)[ 10 ] 
   
conversations: gmoyes:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Urgh. Damnit." 
  
  The hobgoblin had awoken, a powerful throb at the back of his skull. He reached to rub the back of his head, and winced at the pain. Sucking in air through his fangs, he tried to get used to his surroundings. He seemed to be in the hold of a boat - not even a particularly nice one - and a handful of people seemed to be slumped around the hold. As he tried to stand up, the pain in his head got the better of him, and he decided to sit instead, and figure out more details.
  
   
   Spoiler: Rolls 
  
  Perception:  (1d20+4)[ 22 ] 
  I have Darkvision (60ft), if that helps with looking around.
  Profession(sailor) (To find out anything about the ship from his experience):  (1d20+4)[ 19 ] 
   
  
  
  Thinking back to the previous night, he struggled to recall any details. He knew that he had gone to meet a client at the Formidably Maid, but that was about it. Had the meeting taken place? Had the client even showed up? Whatever had happened had dissipated behind a fog of either alcohol or cranial injury. Or even both, it certainly wouldn't have been the first time. However, looking closer, the faces of others in the hold seemed familiar - he could vaguely recall seeing them in the tavern at some point...
  
  He noticed the silhouette of a human - no, an elf - who seemed to have also been roused from his unconsciousness. Hoping to get a fresh perspective on the situation, he called out to him.
  
   "Hey! You have any idea what's going on?" 
conversations: Hella Lugosi:
conversations: human
conversations:  Tellius 
  
  The sounds of the others trying to figure out what happened woke him up. Fuzzy brained and bleary eyed Tellius looked around quietly.  Idly wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand as the others start to discuss their situation.  He remembered being 'asked to leave' his previous employment, so he was pretty sure this was a new ship. Gingerly pulling himself up to a sitting position he took a personal inventory.  Finding most of his belongings missing, but himself generally healthy he waits to hear if any of the others offer information before speaking up himself.
conversations: Nixed:
conversations: human
conversations:  When Tat awoke, his head was sloshing with nausea and confusion. He cracked open an eye, to see wooden rafters overhead. And it wasn't just his head that was sloshing...
  
  His heart skipped a beat. A ship! He was on a ship! Kidnapping! Pirates! Adventure! Just like in the stories! He bolted upright, steadied himself from the sea and his stomach, and looked around. He could see others were with him, doubtless thinking exactly the same.
  
   "Isn't this exciting!"  He exclaimed to no-one in particular.
conversations: Necropie:
conversations: human
conversations:  "We were captured by a bunch of thugs and put aboard a ship. How else do you think we got here?"  Grathel snapped, irritated. Sailing did not agree with him. The last thing he wanted would be to be put on boat against his will. He was quite content staying ashore to work his trade.
  
  The elf took a quick inventory and discovered that he was stripped of his weapons, tools and most importantly, his spellbook. If there was anyone else on this ship that knew anything about magic, they would know that he wasn't a simple craftsman. And they removed his ability to refresh the spells he had. He would have to play this smart. Maybe the best bet would be to work with those who were quite literally in the same boat he was.
  
   "Well I'm sure our hosts will soon be aware of us being conscious. Now would be our best chance to talk without being overheard."  Grathel gave a slight bow.  "Grathel, maker of fine siege engines at your service. Perhaps our captors are among my less than satisfied customers..."  The elf shrugged.  "No way to know until they show themselves. We'll probably be in for a long haul though." 
conversations: gmoyes:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Cheers. Exactly what I was looking for."  He muttered, before returning to his thoughts. He wasn't exactly surprised that the elf didn't have the information he needed, but that didn't leave him with many other options. Although others had started waking up, he didn't think they'd be much more use. Still, he might as well ask.
  
  But before he could move on to any further sources of information, the elf started had introduced himself; quite politely, given the circumstances. Either Grathel was more cordial than Aldous gave him credit for, or he knew that he needed allies. Hell, Aldous knew that he needed allies. Now was probably the time to start making them.
  
   "The name's Aldous. Aldous Mercer. I sell chemicals that make people die."  Not exactly the most reassuring of introductions, he thought, but you couldn't fault him for his accuracy.
  
   "The sooner they show themselves, the better, quite frankly. I want some answers."  He decided that it would be a good idea to establish any connections between him and the other passengers.  "Where were you before you got here? I was meeting someone at this tavern, the Formidably Maid, when-"  he was cut off when one of the others claimed his excitement loudly, suddenly, and quite irrationally.
  
   "...Well, I'm glad that someone's looking on the bright side."  He finally said after a confused pause.
conversations: Hella Lugosi: