Bert will be true to his profession and start stealing small items that nobody would miss.
[Finesse: 2+2]
There is a bunch of stuff that nobody would miss on-ship, you find out rather quickly. Most of it, however, seems to be stuff that nobody would really want either. Nevertheless, you make your very own Lost & Found box of various odds and ends you find lying around, most of them entirely mundane objects that you find mildly fascinating, mostly on account of everything seeming fascinating after a whole fifteen days spent staring at the same shit day in and day out.
[Finesse: 11+2]
Of course, you can only take so much of finding immense wonder in crap you find lying around the ship, so somewhere around the middle of the week you take the opportunity to mess around with the capsule when nobody's looking. The Frog People seem to be not overly gifted in electronics, so you figure they particularly wouldn't miss a particular set of components. For example, the secondary distress signal system, which you expect might come in very handy indeed and which no frog has seen fit to lay claim to and make off with to their own quarters. It's especially convenient, in fact, since it's rather non-integrally bolted to the capsule's otherwise very integrated design and thus trivial to remove after you borrow Waffels' tools (you don't bother to ask permission for those either). Very pleased with yourself as you make off with the valuable component, you decide to lay low for the rest of the trip.
Gained Item: Lost and Found of the Frog WhalerGained Item: Distress Signal System ComponentsHold still.
The good Doctor gets to work, removing the urchins and their spines from Waffels body, and giving him one of his own bargain meds, which she hopes is a painkiller. She covers the wounds with bandages made from his clothing.
Pretend to be an actual doctor while I patch up Waffels. Afterwards, eat and excercise to get rid of starvation and hopefully rebuild some fat/muscle.
[Mind: 4+1]
You don't think Waffels really buys that you're a doctor, but you are the only one to help him, so it's not like he can do much about it. You spend a day pulling out needles and sorting out his many urchins. It's long and very hungry work. Rather fortunately, however, you can also eat what you pull out, so you come out pretty fine in the end. Waffels, slightly less so, but for that you prescribe him a week of bed rest that he is all too eager to take advantage of, and retire to your own matters.
Fortunately, you were not starved to complete emaciation, and between the urchins and other foods on board (you develop a particular shine for slowly fermenting whale xylem from the corpse that decorates the deck all the way home, though you need to sneak it in small doses while the frogs aren't looking) you're definitely not lacking in nutrition. That and a steady bit of exercise has you just about set as far as your physical condition goes, and you arrive at the home of these sailors feeling almost just as much of an adventurous spirit as you were when you decided to fly down to this godforsaken place.
Wound Resolved: Starvation"Kweh", Waffles replies gratefully, keeping still as best he can while being molested by all too many living pincushions. He wonders about the doctor's credentials, but feels it's best not to ask at this time.
Action 1: Allow the good doctor to rid me of my urchin problem.
Action 2: Eat and exercise, trying to get rid of my starvation and perhaps even the weakness in one go. Be prepared to trade out 4 more smoke grenades if the frog people are willing to trade for better food to help combat both of these ailments.
The good doctor is probably not a doctor, but she can use a set of pliers. It's not perfect, but it's what you've got, so you knuckle down and settle in for a long night of deneedling, the two of you managing to finish off most of the urchins in the process. Quite good, you think, if a bit fishy. You just hope you don't get an infection from this.
[Finesse: 9+1+Goods]
However, a Spider Person needs more than mere sea urchins to have a fulfilling diet. Especially you who happens to be suffering from an acute silk deficit. Fortunately, that's nothing a good set of smoke bombs can't fix. You find your helpful protector and offer him four more, pointing at your wiggling chelicerae. He seems quite eager to help, and gives up quite a bit of his insect ration for your sake in addition to the other food you manage to scrape together, leaving you in a state of near-perfect nutrition that sees you reaching the shore in quite a nice state indeed.
Wounds Resolved: Multitudinously Urchined, Starvation, WeakItems Lost: 4 Smoke BombsAction 1: Ingratiate myself to the crew by providing entertainment at meals. Not every meal, I don't want them to get too accustomed to it, but it's definitely a good occasion to flash some spangles.
Action 2: Assist everyone in their exercise by providing public dance lessons. Encourage frog sailors to join in. Use this as an opportunity to learn a bit of language and custom.
[Finesse: 12+4]
You become a dinnertime fixture around the ship in the coming days as the crew gather to watch you dance for them, the mess turning into an exhibition hall as tables migrate along it over the week to produce what effectively looks and works a lot like a cabaret with you as the headlining act. You turn out to be quite strikingly popular indeed, with the third mate taking care to announce you each evening with an increasingly long series of what certainly sound like flattering epithets (you even manage to teach him how to say your name) and the whole crew turning up to spectate. A mutiny nearly breaks out the night you try to stay in, actually, and even with your limited facility with the frog languages and even lesser grasp of their culture you get the feeling the ship is getting more and more restless in response to your performances.
And all this
without needing to strip, no less. Needless to say, your accommodations get upgraded a few times along the way, and quite a lot of gifts seem to arrive as well, of which the third mate takes a very reasonable two thirds in return for letting you stay in his cabin largely undisturbed by anyone else, a courtesy that you get the feeling has avoided you quite a lot of far less polite admirers this week.
[Science: 3+1]
In the middle of your meteoric rise to extreme popularity, however, you find rather little time to engage in much else, the very real need to keep upping the game each evening consuming progressively more of your time. Not that this seems terribly appreciated even when you do offer dance lessons - you get reactions from froggy chuckles to sudden furious mumbling, and not one taker among those. But at least you get to practice your moves a little with the good doctor and Waffels, and even Heehoo participates in his own twitchy, uncoordinated sort of way, sweating profusely even before the start of the warmup and briefly passing out in the end as he freestyles his way into the Triangular Tetanic Twister, a move even you tend to be leery of trying in your routines.
On the seventh day, you see the southern shore of Kwarrem, and you collectively shiver a moment as you behold its massive glacial form, gleaming spires of ice rising to the skies connected with artful bridges sculpted from the same, the ship heading for an inlet in the shape of a massive gate, the overhanging white arch casting a long shadow over the deck as you go through.
Along the inward path you are flanked by tall, forbidding glacial walls, the crevice progressively narrowing as the ship floats on. Footpaths emerge along the walls connecting to what look like artfully carved passages, and you see the figures of Frog People gather on them and cheer as the ship makes its way to a raised jetty placed at the spot where the opening in the ice becomes too narrow to navigate. At the jetty you see a great carved half-dome where a more elaborate welcoming committee has assembled, with frogs of all shapes and all sizes clad in garish multicolored tribal outfits. You see the crew hop out, not even waiting for a gangplank to be lowered, reuniting with their loved ones and immediate family, with a few holding off to secure the ship.
All in all, it's not too long before you start to feel a little left out, the crew paying relatively little attention to you at the moment. Well, except for Eccentrica, who the third mate keeps a very close eye on as he takes her over to meet his clan, who appear to be very puzzled by her mysterious appearance, and substantially more puzzled when the frog begins to explain.
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Topic: The Pillared Garden: A Miracle of Rare Device (Read 26026 times)