All Hands on Deck

Posted by Miles Strange on July 27th, 2007 filed in OOC, Donovan, Lord Curcio deGrance, Uncategorized
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I’m working on minis for Curcio and Donovan, as well as a ship, with an eye to leaving drydock by the next game session. Arrr.

Player Character Names

Posted by Miles Strange on July 13th, 2007 filed in Saeri, Admiral Darch, Asha, Bha'lan, OOC, Donovan, Viktor Gradenko, Miles Strange, Lady Abrianna Pellucci, Lord Curcio deGrance, Morrigan, Uncategorized
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I’m curious. How did each of you come up with the name of your character? I could make some guesses, but I’d like to hear your tales.

“Miles” came from a couple of Saturday Night Live sketches. In 1979, host Michael Palin starred in a lengthy Dickens parody called The Adventures of Miles Cowperthwaite, set in part aboard the Raging Queen, with the memorable line, “Perhaps we can all comfort Miles!” I dimly recall a later sketch in which Eddie Murphy played a kindly porn star named…Miles Long.

Strange is a cool last name, and like Miles, its vaguely French sound seemed appropriate for an Auvergnian. In a sci-fi game a few years back, I played a private eye named Sam Strange, inspired by Sam Space, the eponymous hero of Nolan’s hilarious Space For Hire. My character is becoming a sort of proto-Bond (Pete even promoted him to Commander along with the appointment to an obscure government ministry), and I have this recurring vision of regaining consciousness tied up in a villain’s lair; the bad guy will say, “So good of you to join us, Commander Strange.” The Persian cat is, of course, optional. (”No, Commander Strange. I expect you to cast Dispel Magic, and for the spell to dissipate without effect.”)

My misspelling of “lieutenant” is deliberate, both to ape the British pronunciation in those marvelous Hornblower movies, and to emphasize that this isn’t Earth.

Leftenant Strange in the Archipelago

Posted by Miles Strange on July 9th, 2007 filed in Archipelago, Auvergne, Miles Strange, IC, Origins, Uncategorized
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“What news of the Captain, Stockwell?”

“Not so bad as we feared, Leftenant, but the surgeon says he can’t be moved. Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but what are yer orders? The black flags are makin’ fer the leeward side.”

Leftenant Miles Strange paused, and looked the old sailor up and down. “Had you planned on a career as an officer, Stockwell?”

“No, sir!” The tar faltered, then straightened as he caught Strange’s meaning. “No…Cap’n.”

“My condolences.” Strange smiled faintly. “Have Thompson signal the Indefatigable. Tell the Commodore that we are yet sea-worthy, and stand ready to dispatch these villains once and for all. There is a reef, is there not, Mister Stockwell, strung south by sou’west?

Stockwell grinned. “Aye, Cap’n. An’ the tide’s on the wane.”

“Very good, Ensign. Call for full sail, and see to the port cannon personally. Smartly, now. Auvergne requires that each man do his duty.”

---

The Commodore coughed and spat. “What think you of the light, Leftenant?”

“I think it all to our favor, sir, for the next two hours, at least.”

“Precisely my thought, Strange. The tide is against them, as well.” He lowered the spyglass and scratched his belly absently. “Good hunting, then. The Governor has granted us leave to scour these waters, and I think it high time the ruffians had a taste of our cannon—eh?”

Strange cleared his own throat. “The Valiant is faster than anything else afloat, and her crew have not yet dined. I would say, sir, that pirate is back on the menu!”

“There’s a lad.” The Commodore winked, and clapped the young officer on the shoulder. “Under the Admiralty’s authority, then, I confirm you in your temporary rank as captain of the Valiant. Do her proudly, Leftenant. Let me count your sheets within the quarter-hour. The fleet will follow beyond the reef.”

“For the Lion, sir.” Strange snapped a salute, and turned toward the ladder.

“For the Lion. Oh, and Strange, when your men have eaten their fill of the black flags, I’ll expect you to dine with me—promptly at eight bells.”

---

“Sir. Sir. On your feet, sir. They’re comin’ fer us, sir.”

Strange shook his head, and got to knees. “Where is the Captain?”

“That’s you, sir. C’mon up. You’ll want to face them pirates standin’.”

He clasped his face, trying to clear his thoughts. There had been a battle, and it had gone badly. “Stockwell, what happened?”

“Stockwell’s dead, sir. I’m Giles. Please, sir. The men can see.” Strong hands lifted the Leftenant.

“Giles? Thank you, Giles. And what of the Valiant?”

The seaman grunted. “She’s sunk, sir. After you gave that order, there was nothin’ fer it but to—”

“By the Light, Giles! What order?”

“Was a clever notion, sir, and it might’a worked, but for the Indy.”

“Giles, what the devil are you talking about?”

“Later, sir. You up to holdin’ a pistol?”

---

Some twenty-five days after our escape, Seaman Giles is dead. The wound he took from the slavers has—alas!—proven too much for his weakened condition, and I have been unable to find food in this wilderness. His death, as with all the others, weighs heavily on my soul. I wish it known that he, presumably the last of my command, has served with distinction. The responsibility is mine alone, and should the Redeemer favor me with some sort of rescue, I shall testify to their valor at my Court-Martial.

Giles’ body rests in a shallow grave, beneath stones sufficient to keep him from predators. My own fate will be less gentle, as the howling of the wolves has grown nearer in the past two nights. The Nippekawan peasants are fearful of outsiders, their tongue incomprehensible, and no welcome or charity is to be had. My sole hope is to reach the monastery said to stand in these hills. If we were not misled, and my failing strength will hold, there I will appeal.

Session Log, 7 July 2007

Posted by DM on July 7th, 2007 filed in Saeri, Admiral Darch, Asha, Bha'lan, Auvergne, Logs, Donovan, Viktor Gradenko, Miles Strange, IC, Lady Abrianna Pellucci, NPC, Morrigan, Lord Curcio deGrance, Uncategorized
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Captain Frost and his men take the body of the murdered harlot away from the Pellucci shop.  Darch brings the barrel containing the body of Valencort into the shop revealing the grisly contents to the others.  Lord Curcio leaves the shop and remains outside gathering his wits while drinking heady wine.  The party (minus Curcio, Viktor and Donovan) examines the body.  Bah’lan leaves his hiding place upstairs as his spear begins to glow blue.  This only happens when he is in or near the presence of spirits or creatures of the nether.

The late Justiciar Richard Valencort is no longer “preserved”—his body has undergone normal decay.  He wears the same clothes he had on the night of his death.  His wounds are present, but Bah’lan discovers a deep cut in his chest running along the sternum.  Bah’lan decides to pry open the cut using his spear and a pair of dye tongs.  When he does this a familiar violet mist spills out from the open cavity.  Unlike the previous encounter, this mist apparently is harmless.

Meanwhile, Viktor and Donovan have decided to look for clues regarding the murder mystery.  They visit one of Donovan’s favorite watering holes – the Rusty Nail.  There they blend in amongst the other riff–raff.  Donovan joins a table of rough–and–tumble sailors playing a game of chance.  When he mentions he’s a part of Darch’s crew, they all warm up to him.  After winning and losing coin, Donovan offers them jobs aboard Darch’s ship.  He then asks if they’ve heard anything regarding the murders.  One sailor, obviously inebriated, talks about “the debil” and that it’s the “work o’ the debil.”  Although it sounds far-fetched, Donovan is struck by how convinced the sailor is of the culprit.

Viktor sits at the bar and woos a harlot named Chastity.  Viktor learns that there have been a total of four murders thus far, and Chastity knew all the women.  She tells him that they all worked in different houses, but all of them lived in Old Towne.  Although Chastity is initially interested in Donovan, she learns from Viktor that Donovan is more interested in boys than women.  While he claims it is a joke, Chastity seems to believe him anyway and tries to offer her particular services to Viktor.  Instead, Viktor pays Chastity and asks her to keep her ears and eyes open for anything regarding the murders.  She seems moved by his conviction that he wishes to find the murderer, and Viktor believes he has made a useful contact.

Back at the Pellucci shop, the group discovers that a jagged violet crystal is embedded in Valencort’s chest.  Using his spear, Bah’lan touches its tip to the crystal.  Immediately, the air shimmers about the shop interior.  Suddenly, faceless, hairless violet-hued humanoids appear through summoned portals, an equal number to the present party members.  Morrigan immediately shoots an arrow into the nearest one.  When it strikes, the creature takes on the appearance of Morrigan, including clothing and weapons.

Immediately, the others touch their counterparts, except for Bah’lan who somehow wards himself against them initially.  A battle breaks out in the shop, and Curcio is thankful he is outside and not a part of it.  Viktor and Donovan arrive in time to join the battle, and as each doppelganger is slain, the body falls to the floor and melts into dust.  When the doppelganger finally touches Bah’lan, the mystic energy from his spear is drained into it, and rather than assuming the form of Bah’lan, it instead melds into the shape of Galzhul, a vile witch doctor who had been trapped within the spear by the loas of the Archipelago.  Screaming with madness, Galzhul shrieks in pleasure at his newfound freedom and before the party can stop him, he transports himself away.

The battle now ended, the party regroups and cleans up the shop, while Curcio continues to drink outside.

The game ends segueing into an image of the island where Galzhul once ruled.  A dormant volcano rumbles to life as plumes of black smoke rise from its rocky crater.