The results are in for Match 8. The winner is…
Funk Odyssey, with a score of 77 to Klein Bras-cheche Heitsugi’s 76!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Tie	13-13	This match bears the dubious honor of being the first in T5 not to strike the eight-vote threshold set in T3, meaning that the total value of each vote is reduced so to prevent extreme disproportionate leads. Luckily, it was a tie anyway, at 3.5-3.5.
Quality	Tie	26-26	Reasoning
JoJolity	Baker Street Rat Pack	28-27	Reasoning
Conduct	TEAM	10-10

In the aftermath of the fight, there wasn’t much left of the stage - crystal, fungus, and scrap alike had all built up, scattered around the arena, and in the center of it all stood Funk Odyssey, skidding her bike to a halt after having eked out a victory at the last moment.
Klein and Funk both stood near each other, both breathing heavily and trying to recover after the tiring ordeal, amid a roar of applause from whoever was there to watch the exciting fight.
“AAAAND, WE HAVE A WINNER! A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR FUNK ODYSSEY! Wait, why’s the mic-” Cairo stopped in confusion, the microphone that was amplifying their voice cutting out all of a sudden. Shifting a glance towards the producers on set, it seemed like they weren’t aware of what caused the problem either.
Confused murmurs could be heard from the stand users on-set. Okay, this was a technical error, but this was obviously salvageable - Cairo’s dealt with worse in the past, so-
The already bad situation turned worse when the lights cut out entirely, the speakers in the warehouse humming to life again, though not by the hands of any of the crew members. A second later, a synthesized text-to-speech voice could be heard over the speakers.
“HELLO, CITIZENS OF LOS FORTUNA. THIS BROADCAST IS BEING HIJACKED. ”
What the fuck. Looking at one of the screens by the edge of the warehouse previewing the stream, Cairo could see that the stream’s been taken over entirely by whoever it was that did this, with them currently displaying some kind of placeholder image of a shrouded figure. Wasting no time, Cairo left the two combatants and made their way over to the filming crew, trying to figure out what the hell was happening and how it could be stopped.
“WHETHER DUE TO MALICE OR WILLFUL IGNORANCE, BEING SO NORMAL AND ITS CREW HAVE BEEN COMPLICIT IN VARIOUS CRIMES, BOTH DURING AND PRIOR TO ITS RUNTIME.”
Funk could hear the murmurings of stand users around her, and of Cairo and the rest of the crew trying to figure out what exactly was going on and how to stop them. Was this Peter’s doing? Was that why he needed her to be here? Funk remembered hearing him mention the source for this investigation of his a few times - apparently he’d been working with a “Jesse Jefferson'' from the Agricultural District who’d gotten his hands on a flashdrive made by Nova Nascens containing this information, and thanks to Peter’s skills (combined with some stand magic from that magic house Jesse lived in that repaired the hard drive every time it literally exploded in their faces).
Meanwhile, it seemed like the show’s producers were still struggling to regain control of the stream.
“CAIRO HAS BEEN COMPLICIT IN PROMOTING UNREST WITHIN THE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT, WORKING ALONGSIDE ODIN TO SEND STAND USERS TO FIGHT WITH LOCAL UNIONS, LEADING TO RECENT RISING TENSIONS IN THE AREA.“
“FURTHERMORE, OTHER MEMBERS OF STAFF HAVE COMMITTED VARIOUS OTHER CRIMES, BUT NONE AS MUCH AS THIS SHOW’S LEAD CAMERAWOMAN - CAROLINE JEFFORDS.” The screen shifted to an image of a brown haired woman, who Funk could only assume was caroline. Then, it began shifting to a series of other, well-laid graphs, documents, and images, all presenting evidence for the accusations shown up until now.
“OVER THE YEARS, THIS WOMAN HAS COMMITTED COUNTLESS CRIMES ALL FOR THE SAKE OF PROFIT USING HER STAND - SPYING ON FIGURES OF NOTE FROM WITHIN THE CITY AND SELLING THE INFORMATION TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER, REGARDLESS OF INTENT, AND COVERING UP CRIMES AND TAMPERING WITH SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE FOR A PRICE. OF NOTE, EVIDENCE RELATING TO THE RECENT AND TRAGIC DEATH OF THE LATE ANDRÉ TIFÀNI HAS BEEN TAMPERED WITH IN ORDER TO FURTHER SHIFT THE BLAME ONTO-”
The feed cut off entirely, power having simply been cut to the building entirely. If Peter had found a way to make the stream continue even after this, Funk wouldn’t be able to see it.
For a moment, the warehouse was dead silent. Then, murmurings began between the various stand users in the audience, no one knowing what to make of this information. Regardless of whether the feed was cut or not, one thing was clear -
The damage had already been done, and the truth had come to light.
Surprises are everywhere, and there’s still yet more mysteries to be uncovered. Two boys have found doubles of themselves, who’ve lived their same lives yet all within the bounds of the city, and the four are now fighting. You only have a few hours left to vote in that when this goes up.
Scenario:
Sound’s Garden - Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater - Early Evening
The entrance to the theater which had, months ago now, put on one of the greatest shows in the city’s history had again been filled with eager people, wanting little more than to enjoy yet concert by Metra Doria, or “TD/MD”; it had been the first in a little while, her last appearances onstage being a string of benefit shows she’d performed for immediately after the destruction of Capital Island. They weren’t bad, critics had said, but far from her best work, as though spending several weeks kidnapped by the head of a citywide crime ring had affected her ability to perform or something.
Regardless, though, there were good feelings about this one, as since that fateful day, there hadn’t been a single bad show at the Alexander, and the local interview cycle had Metra come across as so much more genuinely excited than she had been, even if she also did publicly express her frustrations with the fact that, thanks to some act of sabotage, a leaking of information, the arrest of one Toby Fox had been subverted, and he and several of his buddies were still free to wreak their havoc.
Guy Manuel-Mota wasn’t much one to complain about a gig, whatever that job happened to be, and though he’d known the unscrupulous nature of his client, the garish Tigran “Golden” Sins, he also knew exactly how much money the guy had, so when he said that he and Fox had wanted a man on the ground at the stage out of fear that somebody might attack Metra, that even if he was trying to move past his affections for the girl, he’d still wished to keep watch over her, quietly.
If it was true, creepy. If it was a bold-faced lie, at least Guy knew damn well that they were good for their money if they had Seido fucking Shuto on retainer. Either way, he knew he’d get paid as long as he didn’t fuck up.
As Guy walked up to the ticket-takers, corralling eager audience members forward, he noticed them offering strange shiny wristbands to every single person who walked by, telling them “wear it if you want!” and finding, every time, that they just sort of mindlessly nodded and did just that.
When it came to be Guy’s turn, then, of course, he was much the same, accepting it and holding it in one hand, his stub in the other, as he looked the fake-gold, glittering accessory over, tilting his head as he noted the words, very subtly engraved, on it:

IWILLPLAY

“So… That’s your game, huh?” Guy asked, shrugging and slipping it on just like all the rest. He saw where this would go from here, and figured that what the guy paying him wanted was for him to play along.
“Uh, sir-” The ticket taker murmured and stammered at somebody, “sir, please, you can only take one! W-we need enough commemorative wristbands for a full house, so please-”
“Fuck off,” the pink-headed, ornery showgoer declared, yoinking the entire box away and fishing out several, putting a few all over his hands, “I want ‘em all!”
Huh… Guess that’s ‘trouble,’ right on cue. Should I lead him somewhere alone, or just wait for something, or..?
Before he could formulate a plan of action, Guy blacked out for what felt like a moment.
Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - Metra Doria’s Apartment - Earlier that Day
“Well, well, well,” Ananas ‘Agnes’ Bayley said, before cracking open a can of soda, downing it in several drawn out seconds, cracking open a second, downing that in seconds, and then, a third time, before stacking all three, “how the turntables.”
“…” Metra gave him a look, one which Agnes smugly knew was her asking herself, in that moment, ‘am I seriously going to work with this guy?’ It was a feeling he reveled in, being unwanted and dreaded, yet at once needed and tolerated. “So… Will you come? I’ll hook you up with VIP merch, owe you one in general, just… I dunno. I’ve been feeling extremely good about this show, excited, but now that Fox is out there again, I feel like I need… Backup, I guess? Like, I could take any one of those guys in a fight on my own, sure, but with a huge crowd, and trying to focus on my stuff, and…”
“And Arpeggi and that fuckin’… catgirl were busy, I take it.” Agnes snickered, moving around the cans’ placement, never on one of Metra’s coasters, watching as little rings formed on the table. “Heh, fuck ‘em anyway. Dealing with a situation like this… You don’t need some ‘good guy’ worried about not making a mess or whatever. You need a bona fide villain to flex on these posers. Call it fate that I was available short-notice and they weren’t.”
“Just…” Metra sounded resigned. “Please don’t cause too much trouble. Damages will come out of your reward.”
“Snrk… Of course. It’ll come out of my pay. A sentence I hear every day from Gabanna, you know.”
With Metra’s reluctance and Agnes’ amusement, a deal had been struck.
Metra Doria, too, had been handed one of those strange wristbands, and she, too, seemed to black out suddenly, only realizing a moment too late exactly what, once again, this had all meant. She hadn’t approved ‘commemorative wristbands’ on the dossier, and the text on it… Goddammit!
But… Her green room looked almost identical. What the hell was going on? Maybe her backup dancers would know something, or Agnes had noticed… He’d at least report to her if he had figured something out, right? …right?
She stepped outside, then, only to find herself, and what she’d thought was her green room, atop a shelf in a very high-up, VIP area, a sort of outdoor box seating-type arrangement which the Alexander saved for its most prized guests. Almost always, somebody from Fox’s little club.
She had been shrunk down to the size of a game piece, and sitting at a table nearby, watched with interest by about half a dozen suits she had come to recognize, was a perfect recreation of the entire stage and seating areas of the amphitheater. As she tried to process this, then, her view was taken up entirely by the giant, punchable face of Tigran Sins.
“Evening, Metra! Looks like you underestimated me again… Heh, for some reason, people keep doing that.” The very garish man laughed, but his eyes were glaring down at her. Always, he’d hated her, resented the attention she’d taken from Fox. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?”
“Tigran… What the fuck did you do?” Metra curled her tiny hands into fists, allowing her Stand, the headphones often seen at her neck, to manifest, “you… How many people are down there? I hear so many voices murmuring, even from here!”
“Thousands upon thousands,” Tigran remarked, “all waiting none the wiser for the show you promised them… Including a side appearance from two Stand Users. You really put all your faith in a loose cannon like that Agnes kid who set a fire in my casino? You’ve been acting cool, but you’re desperate, aren’t ya? You know we’re here to stay… And what game we’re playing.”
“You… You’d better run the hell away fast as soon as we’ve won, because we will ruin you.”
She tried to sound defiant, there, but Metra was trembling.
“Some things, a Stand User just can’t beat with all their strength, Metra… Now, c’mon.” He held up a cute little tiny limousine, cracking the door open. “You’ve got a show to do.”
The crowd came to at once, already amassed within the amphitheater, seats filled, standing room similarly heavily occupied. There was hardly room to move one’s arms around in there.
Which, of course, Agnes was doing anyway, swatting people away and getting called rude words, cackling as he made for himself some space. Something was fucking up here, and he did not want to be caught off-guard by-
“Hey.”
“Shit!” Agnes jumped, then, and turned around, seeing Guy Manuel-Mota face-to-face, staring him down with a somewhat even expression.
“Hey, c’mon, I’m not that scary, am I?” Guy joked, rubbing his arms and making a point of showing off his bracelet, then gesturing at it, and at the stage, and saying, “anyway, my name’s Guy Manuel-Mota. You probably already realize this, Agnes, but… You’re already in a trap here. Both of us are stuck, even.”
“Heheh, what, are you trying to warn me or something? Well, I don’t need an alliance with you… So fuck off.”
“I wasn’t asking for one.” Guy corrected, then, adding, “you know how Tigran Sins works… The only way we’re getting out of this is through each other.”
“My fucking thoughts exactly,” Agnes answered, “and exactly what I came here for… A chance to pound that gold-wearing fuck’s face in. I hear he really hates that shit, so I’ll make it permanent.
Guy’s casual demeanor, then, turned into a stiff, serious face, hands at the blades on his person. “You won’t last that long.”
“Oh, you’re fucking on, you-” “Alright, Los Fortuna! Give it up for exactly what you came here for!” An announcer’s voice cheered on, then, ringing through the arena almost deafeningly loud, followed by a cascade of rising cheers.
The noise distracted Agnes, and Guy made his getaway.
“Back again at the Alexander Dickinson…”
Shit… So many people here, not even paying attention. Where did he go?
“Unbreakable, unshakeable, here to give the show of her life again as she always does… TD/MD!”
Metra strutted out onto the stage, then, to the cheers of the crowd, but Agnes noticed that she seemed to be frequently looking up towards the sky, or towards the various short-circuit cameras wired to display her on the jumbotrons. The crowd seemed too vapid, too fandom-consumed to notice, but there was apprehension in her every step in that casual yet elegant performing costume of hers.
“It means so much to me to see you all out here… Really, I appreciate every single one of you, even if I don’t know you! Just the fact that you came here…” She was trying not to sound guilty as hell there, for what she and all of them had fallen into. Agnes wasn’t sure whether to feel bad, to get mad at Tigran Sins for pulling one over on them again, or to laugh.
“So! I’m just going to start with a classic, alright? Keep the emergency exits in mind, but more than that, get ready, because what’s coming is something hard to describe! Let’s make it a night worth remembering!”
Guy continued to grasp his swords, keeping close to the crowd, close to the stage.
Cruel what you’re doing, Mr. Sins… And you didn’t tell me I’d be fighting the guy who ripped the Ocean Soul’s arm off. I’d better get a hell of a bonus for this.
OPEN THE GAME!
Location: The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, in the Entertainment District (specifically, a perfect replica of its crowd area). The area for the match here is 50 by 60 meters, with each tile being 5 by 5 meters. Agnes starts at the middle left and Guy starts in the middle right as represented by their respectively colored team tokens.
The stage is at the top as represented by the grey semi-circle. The audience members are represented by the red circles and the venue is sectioned off as a concert generally would be. Each seating section is represented by the blue, green, and yellow transparencies. These areas are roped off to keep them separate.
The dotted semi-circular line is a row of metal security fences to keep people from getting too close to the stage.
Goal: RETIRE your opponent!
Additional Information:
The audience members all have flat two physicals, and are mostly paying attention to the ongoing concert, eager and excited fans that they are. Metra Doria is performing onstage with a backing band, and it’s quite loud, yet somehow (the noise-altering effect of her Stand, maybe?) you aren’t debilitated by it. The audience members won’t deliberately cooperate with you in any meaningful way, and don’t particularly care about one another either, but will try to avoid getting hurt if they can see it coming.
Due to brazen threats on the guests by Tigran and the rest, none of Metra’s crew will interfere in the match, and are basically as good as non-entities mechanically, but it goes without saying that harming them or outright ruining the performance will lead to Fox canonically and successfully killing you with a giant rock. So don’t go on the stage itself.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
BADD GUYS	Ananas “Agnes” Bayley	“Faceless gazes passing by with me / The void in my heart changed with the path I chose” You find these ED guys absolutely loathsome, but the idea of completely stealing Metra’s thunder is nonetheless appealing to your villainous heart. Act as cool as possible in your own way!
Suburban Regalia	Guy Manuel-Mota	“There's no limit to each new encounter - everything so ordinarily bizarre” These people want their shows to be impressive, right? Well, may as well get that check… Act as cool as possible in your own way!

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Unleashed pt. 47

This chapter was a labour of love, heists are hard. Big thanks to u/eruwenn for helping tidy up this bag of snakes.
First / Prev / Next

“Ranjaz K’Lua, you thieving scumbag!” the Kah’Ree in the purple suit exclaimed loudly as he spotted them across the busy room. “As I live and skral, I never thought you would have the Jolos show your face here again!”
Two J’Rami in suits detached themselves from the lobby wall, walking towards the Kittran and his friends. “Alfor, my old friend!” Ranjaz smiled broadly. “No need for the welcoming party, I’ve got your credits” —he gestured to Cygna— “and a sweetener, for all the trouble I caused last time.”
Alfor paused, lecherous eyes assessing the Fae’Dan. “You know I have a thing for purple.” He chuckled at his own joke and waved the guards back to their posts. “How about we have a drink, and discuss your forgiveness.” He pointed to Thor and Eruwenn. “Brought your own security, or are these Gal. Fed. goons? Everyone knows about your probation.”
The Kittran gave a broad grin. “I got a Tulseria-damned pardon, a new ship and a very lucrative opportunity.”
The Kah’Ree smiled. “How’d a thieving cat like you get a pardon?” He gave Ranjaz an appraising look up and down. “Oh? Now, let me guess, you need something from me and my brother?”
Ranjaz fired his finger guns. “You were always the smart one Alfor, that’s why you run the casino floor.” The Kittran stepped in close. “The item, do you still have it?”
Alfor tilted his head back and away from Ranjaz. “Your little guarantee?” He looked back down at Ranjaz. “We have it somewhere safe. Had some unusual people come by after you got caught. Asked a lot of questions. Made a lot of threats.” His face contorted in anger. “We got audited thanks to you.”
The Kittran smiled. “If only they knew you better, they could have simply paid you for the information.”
“We give nothing for free.” The Kah’Ree gave a sinister smile. “House rule.”
Ranjaz walked forward to put his his arm on Alfor’s back. “Let’s go see your brother. Have a few drinks, maybe gamble a little, and discuss our future riches.”

Ripley stood in the shadows of the staff shuttle bay, watching as the numerous employees of assorted races came and went. Loud laughter caught her attention, and a very strangely dressed Niham broke away from a small group and walked towards her. Ripley tried to maintain her low profile as the scantily clad female strutted towards her in long black boots with pointed heels that clacked loudly with every step.
Deliberately avoiding eye contact the Awakened tried to will herself into the wall but it was too late and a voice called out to her. “Hey Darling! You must be the one I’m looking for.”
Ripley shook her head. The Kittran had said the contact was an Ashi pirate captain, a master gambler and expert in procuring the unusual. “I don’t-”
“Listen cutie,” she interrupted, “you’re the one lurking in dark corners drawing attention to yourself. I’ve got your security card. You tell that fluffy little stud he owes me. And more than a bottle of Fae’Dan wine and a good time, if you know what I mean.” She held up the card between her fingers, just a little out of Ripley’s reach.
The Awakened considered the phrase ‘fluffy little stud’ and decided that, despite her hopes, this was probably her contact. “You’re Captain Whiplash?”
The Ashi laughed genuinely, the jiggling of tightly squeezed breasts bursting at shiny black restraints making Ripley nervous. “Oh, Darling! Only my little pets call me that! You may call me Sho’Na.”
Ripley was momentarily confused. “So, you aren’t a pirate captain?”
“I’m anything they pay me to be.” She smiled at the silver-haired woman's naivety. “You really are new to this.”
Ripley, caught off guard, simply nodded, then replied, “I’m a quick learner.”
“Good for you, Darling.” Sho’Na handed over the card. “Just make sure you get paid up front, and don’t use your real name with clients. Ruins the mystique.”
Ripley was unsure of what was being said. Turning the card over in her hands she saw that the holo-image on the front was of a male Arkellian. “This isn’t me?”
“Honey, I was given half a cycle to get you a level three security card. Just be glad it’s a biped.” Sho’Na looked Ripley up and down. “Our mutual acquaintance told me you were some sort of master of disguise who could even trick Selva Blaster.”
Ripley paused, then smiled. Her appearance had become such an integral part of her identity she had forgotten that it was entirely optional. “It won’t be a problem.” She looked at the card again. “Unless the owner comes looking for it.”
Sho’Na gave another bosom-trembling laugh that threatened to spill out at any moment. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s tied up at the moment.”
The Awakened considered the risk. “Hmmm, but for how long?”
The few strips of shiny black material that comprised Sho’Na’s revealing outfit strained under her amusement. “Don’t you worry, Darling. He paid for the whole night.”

Eruwenn had reassessed her opinion of Ranjaz many times since meeting him. The criminal. The loyal friend. The lazy trouble-maker. All were true, but now she was seeing something new. He sat opposite Toran, the brother of Alfor, in a game of dalcho she wished she could have taken part in, but was equally glad she did not.
At first she had thought the Kittran was outmatched, a few reckless mistakes costing him dearly as the Kah’Ree deftly selected his tiles. Toran was clearly a seasoned gambler, using a blend of the Remee Le’Bow Gambit and the Kowals’Kee Analysis she hadn’t seen before. It seemed to be dismantling Ranjaz’s tiles before he could even prepare his cards. A few fortunate dice rolls and he had taken a strong lead from the outset. The Kittran appeared desperate, playing any tile available to try and slow the defeat.
It had all been a ruse, she saw it; Ranjaz had saved his best tiles and carefully thrown hands to manipulate the cards. In just a few rounds he would be able to dominate the board and raise the stakes, recouping his losses and changing the course of the game entirely. She had encountered few players who could manipulate the game so deftly, using memory and layers of strategy to corner their opponent. It was magnificent.
Eruwenn couldn’t tear her eyes from the board as she stood beside Thor. The Awakened had shown no interest in the game, studiously watching the opposite door as Toran’s staff came in and out. When a waiter entered and began preparing drinks at the small private bar in the executive gambling room, Thor coughed. It was a strange thing for an Awakened to do, and Eruwenn finally looked up from the table. “Are you ok?”
Thor nodded. By the time he had looked towards her, she had returned her attention completely to the game. “You don’t seem concerned about your friend?” he asked.
The Anatidae watched as Ranjaz used a blind double feint, and the sheer audacity of such a move made her swallow hard. She didn’t look back to Thor, but mumbled a response. “I’m very confident in her abilities.”
The waiter was methodically placing drinks by each of the players, but when they stood behind Ranjaz the Kittran surged to his feet, shouting, “Hey! No cheating Toran! Getting your waiter to look over my shoulder? That’s a dirty move I’d expect from your brother!”
Thor had reacted faster than Eruwenn, pinning the arms of the Arkellian waiter in a vice-like bear hug. Toran slowly stood. He was big, heavily muscled, and the veins on his neck bulged as his anger rose. “Don’t accuse me in my own place.” He cracked his knuckles and glowered down at Ranjaz. “I run a straight game.”
Fearlessly the Kittran walked right up to the Kah’Ree and stared up into his face from waist height. “Don’t try and intimidate me, you son of a Vogel.” Ranjaz puffed out his chest and began pushing the burly casino owner. “Nobody cheats me!”
The blow caught Ranjaz across the cheek and sent him sprawling across the room. Eruwenn winced at the impact, but maintained her composure. Toran laughed. “Watch your tongue or I’ll add it to my collection.” He walked round the table and kicked Ranjaz in the stomach, glaring at Thor and Eruwenn, daring them to act. “Know your place trash. You’re at this table because you put credits up front. You are a dishonest thief, begging for scraps, and cosying up to me any my brother to get your little trinket back.” He returned to his seat. “Why would I need to cheat against the likes of you?”
Ranjaz stood, brushing himself off. “Fine, fine.” He waved a hand and Thor dropped the Arkellian. Ranjaz tapped him on the chest. “My mistake.” He sat down and picked up his cards once more. “You’re right Toran, you run a clean game. I’m just a sore loser.” He shuffled the order of the tiles that were still face down on the table. “To show my sincerity, how about we double the buy for the rest of the game?”
Toran snorted. “Double?” He looked at the Kittran, scrutinising his opponent. The game was already over; he had control of the board and his tiles occupied the three prime positions. Was the thief trying to buy his favour, he wondered? How much was the trinket he wanted truly worth? He decided it was worth testing. “Triple, and I’ll forget you dared touch me.”
The Kittran swallowed hard, his ears flat to his head. Toran momentarily worried he’d pushed for too much but a decision seemed to be reached. “Fine. Triple.” The look of defeat was delicious to the Kah’Ree.

Cygna had done her part and lured Alfor to a private room away from his security. She had danced, skipped and side-stepped his groping hands so far, maintaining a playfulness that ensured he complied. This sort of thing was not new to her; she had spent time undercover in the past. Fortunately, there had been little call for it since she had joined forces with Eruwenn.
Alfor’s eyes scanned her body once more. “The Kittran has very good taste.” He licked his lips, a small amount of drool escaping and running down his chin. He wiped it on his sleeve. “Now, I brought you somewhere quiet. How about you show me how sweet you can be?”
The Fae’Dan smiled coyly and continued her dancing just out of reach, glancing to the doorway where Alfor’s two guards stood watching her. “With an audience?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
With a sly grin he waved the guards out of the room. “Now come here and let me satisfy you like only a Kah’Ree can.” His eyes wandered over her body once more.
Cygna smiled, her own eyes moving from the Kah’Ree’s hands to his shoulders, then up towards his neck. An interesting fact about the Kah’Ree was the thick blood vessels on the side of their neck. They often bulged when a Kah’Ree was angry or excited, like Alfor’s were as he leered at her. She danced closer. Another interesting fact was that their brains were not as efficient as those of other species, hence the requirement for additional blood flow; more oxygen per limited thought.
He leaned forward, his eyes locked to her swaying hips. Cygna turned slowly, and his head tilted to appreciate her assets. The third, lesser known, fact about the Kah’Ree was that an interruption to the blood flow while they were in this excited state caused them to lose consciousness rapidly as their brain burned through the available oxygen. “My eyes are up here.” She smiled as he looked up at her with his head still tilted.
He sneered. “Who ca-”
The Fae’Dan struck the side of his neck with the edge of her hand, targeting the throbbing blood vessel with a powerful blow. The interruption to his brain's oxygen supply worked perfectly and he fell face forward onto the ground at her feet. She let out a sigh of relief and looked down at his unconscious body. “Thank you, that was particularly satisfying.”
She walked over to the door and peeked out, finding the guards standing either side. “He said to order us some drinks.” One of the guards nodded and immediately put his hand to his lapel communicator.
Back inside the room, Cygna used her foot to roll Alfor to his back and began searching his pockets. She came up empty. Her eyes caught a glimmer from his collar and she found a heavy gold chain, at the end of which was his security key. She removed it just as a knock came at the door. A deep voice from the other side called out. “Your drinks, boss.”
The Fae’Dan quickly messed up her hair. Using the back of her hand she smeared her lipstick sideways, and then pulled the strap of her dress down off her shoulder. She opened the door and, to her surprise, was faced with an Arkellian waiter. The bodyguards noted her dishevelled appearance and shared a smirk, and she said, “Oh, I wasn’t expec-”
The waiter pushed the trolley into the room. “Don’t keep the boss waiting, lady.” Before Cygna could reply they were inside and the door closed. “Relax, it’s me.”
Ripley’s voice sounded bizarre coming from the male Arkellian form, and Cygna’s eyes went wide in shock. Her sharp mind quickly adjusted to this new information. Of course the Awakened could change their physical appearance; she had just never seen it. They all seemed quite attached to their chosen human forms. “Neat trick.” She held out Alfor’s key. “Did you get the other one?”
Ripley nodded. “The Kittran played his part well. I didn’t see him take it, and didn’t feel it when he placed it in my pocket. Now that was a neat trick.”
The Fae’Dan smiled. “I think I’ll pass on that dalcho game.”
The Arkellian Ripley smiled. “Probably wise.” Turning, she slipped the key into her pocket and headed back out of the door.

Ripley entered the elevator to the owner's private offices on the top floor. Thanks to the distractions downstairs, the two large desks in the centre of the room were empty. She walked straight past them to the large leokas painting on the wall and swung it forward. Behind it was a Fae’Dan safe; she took out the two keys and a small homemade device the Kittran had given her.
Attaching the device to the bio-lock and standing before the safe, she elongated her arms to reach both key positions at once. There was more than one reason she was the one chosen for this task. The device beeped twice and small lights above each lock lit up. She simultaneously turned both keys, and there was a satisfying clunk.
She raised an eyebrow. The device had worked. The heavy safe door swung open and she began her search. Ranjaz had been very specific: while there was one item she had to get, she was to grab as much as possible to obscure their true target.
Quickly grabbing as much as she could she retrieved the keys and ran back across the room towards the elevator.

Cygna hauled Alfor back onto the seat, putting him in a more natural position and messing up his hair. She looked away as she began unbuttoning his clothes, pulling his trousers around his ankles and opening his shirt up to bare his chest. From a secret pocket inside her dress she pulled out a lace thong, setting it on his head like a bandana. She also had a small box which she opened, inside of which was a replica mouth with lipstick that matched her own.
Cygna carefully applied kiss marks all over his exposed skin before popping the fake lips back into the secret pocket. She took the Fae’Dan wine and partially filled two glasses, making sure to take a long drink from one and leave more lipstick marks. The rest of the wine was poured into the ice bucket.
She heard the sound of voices outside the door. The guards were arguing with someone, refusing them entry, but when the name Toran was mentioned it was Ripley who entered, still in uniform but now looking much like her usual self. She smirked at the Kah’Ree in his derobed state. “I can see you had fun.”
The Fae’Dan chuckled. “That’s the idea.” She looked at the Awakened in her true form. “You look… better.”
Ripley cocked her head. “It would be strange if the waiter came back to deliver a message.” She tossed the necklace key to Cygna, who replaced it on Alfor’s neck.
Reclining on the sofa and picking up her glass, Cygna took another long drink. “Get the other one back to Ranjaz quickly. This one won’t be napping much longer.”
The Awakened gave an almost Ranjaz-like grin. “You could always hit him again.” Before the Fae’Dan could reply she had ducked back out of the door. She caught the eye of one of the bodyguards and gave a head tilt back towards the room. “The boss is really enjoying himself!”
As the suited pair chuckled, the larger of the two got a message in his ear piece. “Hey, silver hair.” He grunted. “Boss has an important guest. Meet them in the foyer and bring them to the dalcho room.”
Ripley was relieved – she needed a reason to get into that room. “On my way.”

Toran was seething as he watched as the Kittran flipped his final tile. Why would he have waited so long to play the Wings of Tulseria tile? His stomach sank, and he couldn’t hold back his anger any longer. “Damn you!”
Ranjaz gave a full-fanged grin. “Looks like my luck turned at just the right moment.”
“Luck!” Toran’s tile snapped between his fingers. Why had he let the damned cat goad him into constantly increasing their bet? The cycle had started with him owing the brothers a million credits plus interest, and now the infuritating Kittran had won nearly forty times that. “Nobody is that lucky.”
“Woah!” Ranjaz held up his hands. “I would never cheat, well... certainly not a second time. After you caught me, I’d be a fool to try.”
“Hmm.” Toran looked at the two behind the Kittran. The big one would be a problem, but the Anatidae looked to be nothing special. “How about I give you back your little trinket and we call it even?”
“My trinket?” Ranjaz shook his head. “I had to convince you it was worth the million I owed. Why would you think I’d trade it for thirty eight million credits? I’ll pay what I owe, take my trinket and my winnings and leave.”
Toran folded his arms and looked across the dalcho board at Ranjaz. “And why would I let you do that?” The atmosphere in the room changed as the two security guards changed their stance. “Transfer the credits back to the house.”
Ranjaz dropped the grin, replacing it with a defiant glare. “What happened to you running a straight game?”
“The game was straight. You won, didn’t you?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and hard. “You’re just in no position to collect.”
The Kittran was about to argue when the door behind Toran opened. He looked up as Ripley entered, and his eyes widened in shock. She wasn’t alone. “Toran, you bastard! You sold me out!”
“For ten million credits.” Toran stared hard at Ranjaz. “Care to make a better offer?”
Eruwenn’s eyes blazed with anger as the grey-suited Niham pulled up a seat and sat down beside Toran. “Now, now, you lied to me about having the item before. Don’t double cross me.” Sentinel Krast placed his hands together on the table, interlacing his fingers. “I’m not somebody who forgives easily.” He looked directly at Eruwenn. “Isn’t that right, former Councillor? A little far from your new Ambassador position, aren’t you?”
Ripley stood back against the wall. She had no idea who the newcomer was, but this most definitely was not the plan. The golden green Anatidae walked forward to stand behind Ranjaz. “Oh, I had a little vacation time saved up, and decided to spend it with my good friend here.” She placed a hand on the Kittrans shoulder. “And what brings a Sentinel here?”
Krast’s lips curled in what might approximate a smile. “I’m also acquainted with Mr K’Lua. In fact, we go back a very long way.” He turned to look directly at Ranjaz. “Now, return what is mine.”
Toran looked from Ranjaz to Krast. “Yours? You don’t look like the tiara wearing type.”
The Sentinel didn’t turn his head. “Ah, so you hid the data chip inside some shiny bauble. As inventive as ever, Mr K’Lua.” The Niham finally acknowledged Toran by looking at him. “Bring. It. Here.”
The Kah’Ree sucked air through his teeth. “Well, seems like we have something mighty important, and two very interested parties.” He stood and walked to his two security officers, who drew their weapons in unison. “Now then, I believe you” —he nodded to Krast— “offered ten million. How about it Ranjaz, old friend? What’s your counter offer?”
The Kittran had been sitting, silently seething at his double cross being double crossed. He looked at Krast. “Were you the one?”
Toran was surprised at being ignored, but before he could reply Krast answered, “The one?”
Ranjaz’s eyes narrowed, his ears alert, his tail swishing aggressively. “The one who took my friend!” he snarled as he felt Eruwenn’s hand holding him back gently.
Krast’s eyes glittered as he saw the impotent rage in his opponent’s eyes. “Ah, the poor deceased human?” He smiled his mannequin-esque smile. “And if I was?”
Toran snatched a pistol from one of his men and fired a blast at the ceiling. “Your quarrel can wait. Let’s settle our business first and you can kill each other after I’m paid.” He paused, then added, “but, not in my casino. Body disposal costs extra.”
Eruwenn’s hand gripped Ranjaz’s shoulder harder, and he braced himself. In one smooth move she both threw him backwards and to the right, and kicked the dalcho table up and forward into Krast's face. The Sentinel fell backwards as a blast from Toran struck the table, but Eruwenn was already on the move, sidestepping left and ducking forward into a cartwheel. Toran's gun had been following Ranjaz, but as her leg swept down it knocked the weapon from his grip.
Once she stabilized, her fist, already primed with momentum from the cartwheel, struck Toran below the ribs and knocked the wind from him. The guard, whose gun the Kah'Ree had been holding, lunged forward to grab Eruwenn but she simply deflected his hand, pairing his forward momentum with her rising elbow to swiftly render him unconscious.
The second guard had just begun to raise his weapon when a huge fist struck him in his chest, sending him careening backwards into the wall. Thor loomed over him, shaking his head as he retrieved the energy pistol. “Too slow.”
Ripley helped Ranjaz to his feet as Krast pushed the table off his chest. Toran was coughing and struggling to breathe as Ranjaz pressed the retrieved energy pistol to his forehead. “Double cross me?” He dragged the Kah’Ree forward. “I want to see the item, then I’ll pay what I owe.” The two of them awkwardly made their way back towards Krast, so Ranjaz could point the gun in his face. “Then we can talk about your body disposal fee.”
Krast stood, and his phony smile was gone. “You can’t kill me. The Sentinels will tear this place apart, hunt you down and kill you. You think I came alone? My ship is in orbit and waiting for my orders!”
Ranjaz grabbed him by the jacket, pulling him down to his level, and struck him in the face with the butt of the pistol. Thor cooly kept his stolen pistol pointed at Toran and the one conscious guard. By the third blow Krast’s face was bloody, his nose broken and he began to struggle against Ranjaz’s assault.
A muted boom caused everyone present to stop in their tracks. Alarms began to sound and Toran swore loudly. He pulled out his communicator, ignoring Thor’s pistol. “What the hell was that!” He held the device close as he listened. “My office?” He patted his pocket. Finding his key in place, he looked to Ranjaz and then Krast. “Seal the casino! And where is my brother?”
Ripley suddenly understood why the Kittran had told her to leave his device on the safe door. After a brief further moment of shock, which she kept from showing on her face, she realized that she had been carrying an explosive without being told. If they survived, Ranjaz was going to need to explain himself. Thoroughly.
Eruwenn, Thor and Ranjaz had backed away to the opposite side of the room, standing by the door. Krast stood alone, holding his profusely bleeding nose. The opposite door soon opened to reveal scrambling casino security, with Toran and his guard standing nearby.
The unconscious guard was carried out without comment, and the Kah’Ree turned to Ripley. “Why are you still here?” She nodded and slipped out of the door, leaving one less concern for the remaining three. “Alright, which one of your skrolg-licking bastards broke into my private safe?”
Krast spat blood onto the floor, pointing at Ranjaz. “He’s the thief. You and I had a deal.”
The Kittran smirked. “I’m a better thief than blowing up a Tulseria-damned safe. If I wanted to steal it, I would have done just that. I would not have announced my arrival and sat down to a game of dalcho.”
Toran looked between the two of them. “He’s got a point.” One of his men handed him a pistol, and he continued to talk a little distractedly into his communicator. “Well, check everywhere!”
Ranjaz stirred the pot. “He’s the bastard who double crossed me, why would he honour your deal?”
Eruwenn nodded. “A government agent can’t be seen working with criminals.”
Krast's face contorted in rage. “Don’t be a damned fool, Toran!” He pointed at Ranjaz. “This is clearly some convoluted distraction.”
Toran shook his head. “They had the upper hand. You were the one getting your face ruined.”

Cygna watched nervously as Alfor began to stir. Things were taking a lot longer than expected. Finally, her signal came; it was not as subtle as she had been led to believe. As soon as the explosion went off the two bodyguards quickly came into the room, glancing from Alfor’s sleeping body to her. She staggered forward, wine bottle in hand. “We need more drinkshh!”
The guard ignored her as he saw the condition of his boss. “Not again,” he groaned. “Toran will kill us for letting him get like this.”
The second guard stepped out into the corridor. “I’m not dressing him! Last time he tried to kiss me!”
Cygna paused, not having expected it to go this way. The first bodyguard walked out as well. “He pissed on my new shoes the time before that. I’m not moving him.”
Their communicators went off and their faces became more serious. Bodyguard two spoke first. “Damn it. Toran wants him.”
The first turned to look at the increasingly bewildered Cygna. “You!” He smiled. “You got him undressed. You can dress him.”
Cygna spotted Ripley running down the corridor towards them, causing her confusion to grow further. The Awakened shouted one word. “Sentinels!”
The Fae’Dan’s mind raced. The plan was clearly blown, and they had to get out. Fast. As the guards were now facing Ripley, she took the opportunity to kick one in the back of the knee. He fell forward, and as the second turned he was met with the upward swing of a wine bottle. The first guard discovered first-hand the shocking truth of how hard the knee of an Awakened could be, and both were unconscious by the time they hit the ground.
Cygna smiled at Ripley. "Thanks."
The Awakened gave a swift nod of acknowledgement. “A Sentinel turned up, so Ranjaz set off the diversion he promised. The other brother is busy trying to figure out whether it’s us or the Sentinels robbing him.”
Cygna took on board the new information quickly, knowing she needed to help the others. “I have an idea. Lie over there and look dead.” She ran back into the room, where Alfor was groaning and starting to move. She slipped the chain from his neck and dropped it into the ice bucket, where it sank out of sight below the dark Fae’Dan wine. She began to slowly shake him.
“Huh,” he grumbled, and slowly opened his eyes. “Wha.. what happened?”
Cygna clung to him tightly. “Oh thank goodness! I thought they killed you!”
“Killed?” Alfor’s head was pounding, his memory blurry. “Who-” He caught sight of his downed guards in the open doorway. “What the hell happened?” He began pulling at his clothes, and swiftly checked that his trousers were dry.
“While we were.. You know…” He nodded; he was buttoning up his clothes. He didn’t remember, but he knew. “Some scary men burst into the room and shot you! I was so scared.” She hugged him tight, pressing herself against him.
He put his arm around her. “What men? Be brave, and tell me what happened.”
She looked up at him, trying to make her eyes as big as possible, adding a lip tremble to really sell it. “I don’t know! They wore grey suits. And one of them took your necklace!”
“My necklace.” He clutched at his chest where it should have been. “Damn Sentinels! I told Toran we couldn't trust them!”
He stepped into the corridor, where Ripley lay on the ground with a terrible energy weapon burn on the side of her face. He pulled out his communicator. “Toran.” He instantly got hold of his brother. “I didn’t answer because I was knocked out. Damn Sentinels took my key, killed some of our guys.” He looked around. “Nobody important, just some waiter.” He finally pulled the underwear from his head. “I’ll go to the security room and look at the video.”
He ended the call and turned back to Cygna. “You stay here.”
She smiled. “Sorry, we can’t let you check the security footage.”
“Wha-”
Ripley struck him from behind and he crumpled to the ground, her fake burn melting from her face. The Awakened looked around, rechecking that all was clear. “I think that’s all we can do; we should get out of here. Come with me, my shuttle is in the staff bay.”

Toran closed his communicator and motioned to a guard. “Search him.”
Eruwenn wished she had some way to capture the look on Krast’s face when the remote detonator was pulled from his pocket. She'd have to hug the light-fingered Kittran later.
The Sentinel grit his teeth. “That’s not mine.”
“Sure, sure,” Toran agreed, while simultaneously shaking his head at the Sentinel. “Looks like you really didn’t come alone.”
Krast was furious, yelling, “I’m telling you-” He broke off when Ranjaz shot him in the leg, falling to the floor.
The Kah’Ree pointed his pistol at the Kittran. “Can’t let you kill a Sentinel in my casino, even if they did just rob me.”
Ranjaz was surprised the Kah’Ree had believed them so easily. “What about us?”
Toran sighed, lowering his weapon. “Take your winnings and get out. If you stole the thing once, I’m sure you can steal it again.”
Eruwenn and Thor both made to leave. Ranjaz paused, knowing he might not get another chance. “And him?”
The Kah’Ree looked at the Sentinel holding his wounded leg. “We’ll send him back to his ship. As much as I hate it, the Sentinels are untouchable.”
Ranjaz raised his pistol. “He took my friend.”
“And we’ll get him back,” Eruwenn said softly. “Then we’ll all deal with him, and the rest of the Sentinels.”
Krast sneered and spat blood once more. “Your human is dead.”
Ranjaz fired.
Krast screamed and grabbed his other leg. “You bastard!”
Toran and his men raised their weapons as the Kah’Ree yelled, “Get the hell out of here!”
Ranjaz turned and followed the others out of the door, but just as it was about to close he poked his head back in. “Oh, one last thing.”
Toran could be seen looking up just as the Kittran fired again, but he ducked out of sight before the true outcome of his shot could be seen. The shrieks of agony, however, followed the trio down the corridor as they broke into a run. Eruwenn spared a glance down at Ranjaz during their retreat. “What did you do?”
The full-fanged grin had never been larger. “Made sure we’ll see him again.”
On the floor of the dalcho room Krast was screaming in agony. He turned over to stare at the closed door. “I’ll kill you! I will hunt you down and kill every last one of you!”
Toran spoke into his communicator. “Tell the Sentinel ship to come get their man. And, bring a doctor. A really good doctor.” He nudged one of his guards and finally let out a chuckle. After all, the Sentinels had just robbed him. “You double-crossing scum always get what you deserve.”
The J’Rami guard raised an eyebrow. “Not sure anyone deserves getting shot in the balls.”

Next

Analysis: Does Robin charge you too much for house upgrades and how I concluded she is a diety.

Can I Win Money With Joker123 Online Slot Machines?

Theory: One Stardew Valley villager is secretly a God

Ever since a Let’s Play got me into Stardew Valley, I’ve fallen in love with the world. It’s something special, a place to relax and get away from the world’s problems. Here, you can pay bills with the sweat of your own brow, make friends, fall in love, and can escape the drudgery of modern life. It’s magical in its own way.
I’ve played hundreds of hours over multiple save files. I’ve been wondering one thing just recently, however. I remember when I first asked Robin for house upgrades and the sheer bowel-emptying amount she asked for. Seriously? That much for a kitchen? Now that I haven’t left my house for the past several weeks, fear human contact, and have deep dived into the paranormal, I’m overthinking something constantly: with regards to modern housework, does Robin the carpenter over or under charge you for her work?
To figure this out, it’s going to require a fair bit of math and a lot of guesswork. I’m going to have to establish a lot of ground rules but I’m going to try and be as accurate to real world costs as I can. We need to learn four things:

What year does the game take place so we can calculate accurate inflation?
What is the square footage of the house and its upgrades?
What is the exchange value of gold, the game’s currency?
What is the cost of Robin’s labor?

Let’s tackle the first. To do this, I scoured around to look for modern conveniences. Primarily, I found these five:

Leah mentions she has a laptop
The carpentry shop sells Plasma screen TVs.
There is what appears to be an old Apple computer monitor in Harvey’s clinic and Maru’s room.
Sam has an electric guitar and what looks like a plasma screen computer monitor in his room.
In Mr. Qi’s casino, the slot machines do not have a lever. This is important because that gives us a firm earliest date of 1963.

Another interesting factoid is the number of Cathode-ray TVs you see in Stardew Valley. These are the precursors to plasma screens, which were in turn succeeded by LCD screen TVs. Additionally, a large number of your starter houses comes preequipped with Cathode-ray TVs. Granted, this may be because the farmhouse was abandoned for many years before you came along, but there exists another such TV in 1 River Road where we often see George watching his shows. I will concede that George and Evelyn are quite old and may not have the tech savvy nature of Sebastian to get something more modern, so that can’t be an accurate measurement. Plus, Alex’s mental acumen is a little... questionable.
As for crafting recipes, there really isn’t anything worth talking about. Magic items I won’t talk about because it has no real world comparison; that also throws out the wizard shop’s items. The furniture catalog has nothing of note to pinepoint a date, and nor does Pierre’s General Store, Joja Mart, Joja Warehouse, the Blacksmith, Stardrop Saloon, or Marnie’s ranch. Leah doesn’t mention anything about her laptop, so that is of little help.
So the casino gives us a low bound. Although manufacturing of the plasma screen TV stopped in the US in 2014, plasma screen TVs were losing their market shares around 2007 and factories were shutting down. As you can buy them like hotcakes and fill a shed with them, 2007 is our upper bound.
The price for plasma screens was quite pricey for residential homes. 1995 was the year 42 inch plasma screens became commercial, and some had home installation priced somewhere around US$15,000. Still not quite the size of the queen or king sized bed you and your spouse have (the size of the plasma screen in the game), but sixty inch plasma screen TVs were sold around the year 2000, and that is plenty big. Given the size of the screen in the game is roughly three tiles just like your bed, I think it’s safe to say this is around the size of our estimate. Our rough year range is now 1995 to 2007. Let’s split the difference and say the game takes place in 2001.
We have our year.
To calculate the size of our farmhouse, we need some baseline measurement. Luckily, the game is pixelated so we can be quite accurate in our measurements. Unluckily, we have no confirmed height of anything, so we have to intuit some things. Reddit user asparagus made this excellent size chart, so while I can just use that and save myself a lot of work, let us do some measurements of our own and then measure the farmhouse with both this method and asparagus’ method.
First, there is the height of plants, but those can vary widely. For instance, you can pot prickly pear cactuses in your farmhouse, but their height can vary anywhere between one and seven feet. Plant height is a no go. The average height of a minifridge is forty three inches (109 cm) tall, so unless you are a dwarf, that’s not right either. The fences are also a good starting point, as most agricultural fencing stands at four feet (1.2 m).
Here we don’t have to do much; all fences are forty eight pixels in height. Four feet equals out to forty eight inches (121.92 cm). It doesn’t get more perfect than that!
Trigger warning: incoming math.
Now comes the really tricky part: getting the dimensions of each iteration of your farmhouse, and squinting at my computer screen like a mole in order to count pixels; we must include walls as well as that is included in square footage. Our first iteration has pixel measurements of 704x496. Add in the doorway (136x64pixels), and then we’ll still convert for square feet. 704 * 496 + (136 * 64) = 318,452 pixels/sq, which (dividing by 12^2) converts to 2,211.47 ft/sq. Damn, we’re well on our way for most modern mansions.
I have to have messed something up (205.45 m/sq, btw). The average firebox (the inside of a fireplace where you burn wood) tends to be around 32x20 inches (81.28x50.8 cm). Ours is... 72x40. Twice as large. I also haven’t even begun to calculate the farmhouse’s height because Robin is beginning to scare me.
Alright, new plan, we’re going with asparagus. I married Haley and took her measurements. She is 104 pixels tall, and since she is 65 inches (165.1 cm) according to asparagus, that gives us a measurement of .625 inches/pixel (1.5875 cm/pixel).
Side note, I really want some Twizlers right now.
So instead of having pixels as at a 1:1 ratio, we have something a little more lenient, but things are looking a little... grim. We’ll have to convert each individual amount, so we have (704 * .625) * (496 * .625) + ((136 * 64) * .625^2) for 124,395.31 inches/sq, 863.86 ft/sq., 80.25 m/sq. But still, we haven’t even begun to calculate the actual volume of our farmhouse yet, so these numbers are going to explode.
I’m beginning to think Robin is Hestia. Yoba is not the only deity in this town.
Alright, calculating the rest of the floor spaces is a little boring so let’s speedrun this.
Wall height for the farmhouse is 140 pixels, so (140 * .625) * 124,395.31 inches/sq / 12^3 = 6,298.95 ft^3 (178.36 m^3) for the farmhouse, and 25,800.51 ft^3 (730.58 m^3) using my method.
Just... let’s move on.
Second iteration has me doing a fair bit more work.
Wall height is 135 pixels, and rightmost—wait, the walls are shorter? Weird. Anyway, the rightmost room has dimensions of 486 for width by 375 for depth (and the same cubby dimensions), giving us cuboid dimensions of 24,603,750 pixels^3, which converts to 14,238.28 ft^3 (403.18 m^3), and 3,476.14 ft^3 (82.83 m^3) using asparagus' method
Middle corridor has a dimensional width of 42 pixels by 87 depth, giving us a total of 285.47 ft^3 (8.08 m^3), and 69.69 ft^3 (1.97 m^3) using asparagus' method.
Leftmost room (the kitchen) has a width of 870 and depth of 375, with a doorway of 136x64. That gives us a cuboid area of 314,019.38 ft^3 (29,173.11 m^3), and 6,388.74 ft^3 (180.91 m^3) using asparagus' method.
That gives us a grand total for a tier two home of...
... 328,543.13 ft^3 (29,584.37 m^3) using my method and
... 9,934.58 ft^3 (281.31 m^3) using asparagus' method.
So Robin added at a minimum 3,635.63 cubic feet to your house in three days by herself. Even if you extend the days and months to roughly align with our own calendar, that would be a mere nine days. How much powdered starfruit did she snort in order to do that by herself? I 100% believe Emily is the town’s dealer. I didn’t even calculate the length of the farmhouse loft. It’s doable, and even though you can’t enter it in the game, a bigger farmhouse means a bigger loft judging by the look of it.
Anyway, I’m not going to calculate the loft area right now. I’m not going to calculate the other tiers of your farmhouse either, even though that was my intent when I started this analysis. The math is easy enough, but it gets boring to type, and no doubt to read. Plus, I’m a little stunned by Robin's carpentry acumen. C’mon Robin, stop upgrading my house. Exercise with the girls, dance with your husband, smoke some weed, I dunno, RELAX.
But in a strange way, it makes a weird sort of sense. Pretty much no one plays the game with auto-run turned off, but do so for a moment. See how fast you move. That is your normal pace, and auto-run is you, an Olympian god, sprinting around town every second of every day, helping the shit out of everyone whether they want it or not, snorting the same starfruit mixture you got from Robin to keep going, who may have gotten it from Linus (my money is still on Emily). We’ve become so accustomed to seeing the run animation as our default I almost didn’t realize it doesn’t translate to modern life. The boards in your house, I almost took those as your normal 2x4 planks of wood (which actually measure 1.5x3.5, the world lies to me). They are not. They are almost the width of your entire body, and your walking pace (sorry I can’t get an exact pixel measurement) covers roughly one and a half boards, a similar length to a normal human gait. The art style fooled even me until now, but your house is massive.
Let’s just answer our other two questions. What is the exchange rate? Calculating the exchange rate of a fictional world is always tricky as they have different concepts of rarities, but I’ll give it the ol’ college try. Once again, I can’t do anything with magic. Let’s first list some things of note:

Iridium is fairly easy to get around Stardew Valley once you are able, and that is a rare and valuable metal, with a current price of US$1,510 per troy ounce.
You can purchase a golden column to place on your farm, and gold has a current price of US$1,643 per troy ounce
Conversely, while the first two are rare and valuable metals, crops such as corn are valued at prices like 150g, a very unusually high amount if exchanged 1:1 to USA dollars.
Going back to plasma screen TVs, we can use its price history and then convert currencies to Stardew Valley gold.

Now you may be tempted to say we can’t translate iridium and gold’s prices to real world market values, and normally you may be right, but there are some extenuating circumstances in the game: the town is right next to two very large mines. It is even a plot point once you clear the glittering boulder that the water carries ore from deep inside the mountain. Yes, gold and iridium are valuable, but your location to ore veins is important; gold and iridium may be uncommon resources but you have access to very specific places where they are more common, otherwise known as the scarcity heuristic). This also explains two facts about iridium: discounting magic, iridium is quite rare in the game, just like real life. Secondly, Clint’s prices make a lot more sense not only because it’s endgame material, but because iridium is super dense and has a very high melting point, thus making it a very difficult material to work with.
But by far the biggest challenge of this question is figuring out whether or not items you produce factor in the cost of your labor or not. For instance, lace is made of simple materials that even in the days of Victorian England, it was easy to get. However because lace was so time consuming to make, it could command absurd prices. Thus, one of the first things we need to discover is whether or not the game takes into account cost of labor or not.
So I am going to take you all back to school and talk about someone who’s old and dead: Adam Smith. It was he who talked about the cost of labor in his book The Wealth of Nations, and because of that, I bring up this particular line:

“...From century to century, corn is a better measure than silver, because, from century to century, equal quantities of corn will command the same quantity of labour more nearly than equal quantities of silver.”

Why did I mention corn above? This is why. Prices may vary, but agriculture has been around for thousands of years and the cost of a farmer’s labor equals about the same.
According to Dylan Baumann, Stardew Valley corn plants have a profit value of 535 gold per plant. Our corn plant profits are about as high as they can get without adding something new into the mix, and we don’t want that yet.
Let’s set some ground rules:

Cultivatable farm space on the standard farm equals out to 3,427 spaces, but we’ll round that down to 3,350 for iridium sprinklers, iridium watering can, and scarecrows, equaling maximum farming with no loss of crop.
We’ll keep Dylan’s ground rules, so no fertilizer.
No preserves, jams, wine, and juices.
No farming efficiencies and crop selling bonuses.
No use of the greenhouse to grow crops outside of the growing season.

If you plant the entire farm with corn and stop harvesting on Fall day 28 when the growing season ends, that lets you harvest a total of 11 ears of corn per plant. Multiply that by 3,350, we get a total of 36,850 ears of corn for your entire farm. Corn is measured in bushels, and a bushel of corn can be anywhere between 40 and 60 ears of corn, but we’ll say you really pack it in for 60, meaning your growing season for corn produces 36,850 / 60 corn for a total of 614.17 bushels per year.
The USDA has a 2001 labor value of corn at US$2.92 per acre (and that matches the Iowa labor statistic), and using 156 bushels per acre, that brings our labor cost per bushel at... US$00.02. That’s a real pittance. Considering bushels of corn retailed around $2.11 per bushel in 2001, that is an incredible markup of 184.85 times.
We’re almost done with the dreaded math, I swear.
Corn retails at 100g apiece in Stardew Valley(You get 50 gold from Pierre, so he has a 100% markup), meaning the labor cost should be around 184.85 times less that amount, meaning it takes about 0.54 gold to make one ear of corn.
Your average US farmers salary $55,000 and $100,000, and we’ll take the middle of $77,500 for our measurements. Dividing the farmer’s salary by the total ears of corn our farmer grows in Stardew Valley, we get a labor cost per ear of corn in US dollars of $2.10 per ear of corn. Now we multiply this by our markup ratio to get the IRL retail cost of corn in Stardew, getting US$237.08! Damn that better be some good eating! We divide that number by the Stardew Valley retail cost of corn, netting us a real world conversion of gold of, drumroll please, $2.37 US dollars per gold in 2001.
Now just for funzies, let us calculate the actual salary of your famer in Stardew Valley. Multiplying your 36,850 ears of corn by 50 gold (your selling price of gold, not the retail price of 100g), that nets you 1,842,500 gold per growing season. Multiply that by the dollagold conversion we just calculated and your real life gross income comes out to be US$436,672,500.
Give me all of the golden clocks, wizard.
Three questions down, one more to go. Currency conversion was rather tricky because it involved quite a lot of math, but this last question, what is the cost of Robin’s labor, that requires the most assumptions. There’s an easy answer and a hard answer.
Robin’s upgrades, except for the last, require you the farmer to give her resources in addition to gold. The simple answer is you are providing materials in order to keep the raw gold cost down. This means that the first house upgrade, 10,000 gold, is strictly her labor cost as the 450 wood is all the raw materials she needs to build. 3 days * 3 months (to adjust Stardew month lengths to our month lengths) comes out to Robin working an IRL equivalent to 9 days. Taking 10,000 gold / 9 days equals a cost of 1,111.111 gold per day, and considering Robin has snorted enough powdered starfruit to have 20 hour work days, that comes out to 55.56 gold per hour.
Just to be sure, let’s see if the math holds up for the last upgrade. That one requires a cost of 100,000 gold and comes preequipped with 33 casks. You do not provide the resources for the casks, meaning that comes included with the cost. Casks cannot be sold, but the materials required to make them are 20 wood and 1 hardwood, which Robin will provide for the same 100% markup (meaning 4 gold and 30 gold respectively). 4 gold * 30 gold * 33 casks comes out to 3,960 gold. Using the same calculations for the first house iteration, we get (100,000 gold - 3,960) / (3 days * 3 months) / 20 hours for a total of 533.56 gold per hour.
Not even close to our first estimate. We could just average them together for (533.56 + 55.56) / 2 = 294.56 gold, and that would be the easy answer. It would be nice to settle for the easy answer.
Let’s find the hard answer. We are going to calculate labor cost per square footage, and luckily most of the work has been done over the course of several google spreadsheets. To find the cost of materials and money per upgrade volume we get the formula (Upgrade volume - Base Volume) / 10,000 gold. This gives us a grand total of cubic material built per gold of...
...2,573.26 in^3/gold, 30.27 ft^3/gold, 2.89 m^3/gold using my method and
...628.24 in^3/gold, 0.36 ft^3/gold, 0.01 m^3/gold using asparagus’ method.
Let’s see if the math holds up for the basement upgrade and dammit I just realized I got to do more pixel measurements now. Hold on, be back in an hour.
Alright, I’m back. We don’t need to do any subtraction for the previous volume of the house considering the cellar is its own little area, but we still need to subtract the value of the materials used for the casks. The cellar comes out to a grand total of cubic materials built per gold of...
...386.91 in^3/gold, 0.22 ft^3/gold, 0.01 m^3/gold using my method and
...94.46 in^3/gold, 0.05 ft^3/gold, 0.0015 m^3/gold using asparagus’ method.
Huge discrepancy.
Before I get into my reasoning why, let us outline what we know first.

We’re pretty sure the game takes place in 2001.
We have the exact sizes of each house upgrade calculated with two different methods.
We have a certified exchange rate of US$2.37 at that point in time.
We have two different methods of calculating the cost of Robin’s labor.
The amount of work Robin does during her three(nine?) day job is absolutely obscene.

I come to one conclusion: Robin is a god that has settled down in the world of Stardew Valley.
Here me out. I have three pieces of evidence.
The first is when Robin is hired to take on a house upgrade job no one helps her, not even her husband Demetrius. Your house is right next to hers, so you’re not paying for travel. As we have shown by our calculations above and in the gDoc spreadsheet, that is a massive amount of work. It’s simply not possible for a human to accomplish such a monumental task. Robin claims she built her own home herself with this line from the game...

“Have I told you that I built our house from the ground up? It's definitely been the highlight of my career so far.”

...so we know her carpentry acumen is impressive enough for the job, but she has severely understated her skill. Homeadvisor pegs a house costing anywhere between US$150,000 to US$500,000 (US$102,005.53 to $340,018.44, adjusted for 2001 inflation), but even adjusted for inflation, Robin absolutely underbids the current housing market. Those inflation adjusted values, when converted to gold, come out to a range of 43,040.31g-143,467.70g. Granted, these prices are for a complete house, not adding onto a current house, but even if we half the value you are getting one hell of a discount.
The second piece is Robin’s language. The sheer passion for her work speaks wonders..

“Wood is a wonderful substance... it's versatile, cheap, strong, and each piece has its own unique character!”

...but perhaps she is just passionate about what she does. Many people are, but knowing what we do about how dirt cheap and blindingly fast she works let’s go into more detail about some things, specifically three lines. The first...

“Our little plan worked out well, don't you think? Pam and Penny seem really happy.”

...is said after Pam’s house undergoes an upgrade. “Our” plan? Sure, you are the one that buys the upgrade and Robin has to build it, but I can’t help but feel there is a double meaning behind this language. It is done out of the kindness of Robin’s heart and the materials have to come from somewhere, so she can’t do it for free, but it wasn’t about the money, as we have stated previously. It was about Penny.
Pam is a somewhat contentious person because of slobbish and slovenly nature. She is immediately and irrationally angered when Penny tries to pick the place up. She drinks heavily...

“\sigh*... My mother definitely has a problem with going to the saloon too much. But it's best not to dwell on bad things, right?”*

...doesn’t seem to understand not paying her tab has some consequences, and doesn’t realize what her habits have done to her daughter’s psyche.
Then you, the player come along. Pam is okay with the simple things in life, but you help Penny with her worries and insecurities, and then with you and Robin together, you give Penny everything she needs to help her shed those worries. She has a house that doesn have problems with rain, two friends who look out for her, her mom has a job, and most importantly she has peace of mind and in a world fraught with problems, that is truly priceless.
Then there is this line...

“Hey! I heard some weird noises last night, and woke up this morning to find the quarry bridge completely repaired! It's a miracle of woodworking!”

...and it occurs once you offer items to the community center junimos to get the quarry bridge repaired.
It is also a bald-faced lie.
The junimos are good, don’t get me wrong, but we’ve seen what Robin can do with our own two eyes. She is absolutely incredible at her job, and while I may give it to her she has no idea what junimos are or what they are capable of, we have proof that the act of restoring the bridge in one night is not out of the realm of possibility for her. A miracle, yes, but I’m certain she can beat the junimos’ time.
Lastly, there is one quote from her that is just... it opens up some very interesting questions. When she says...

“My parents were bewildered when I told them I wanted to be a carpenter. They were pretty old-fashioned.”

...how old are her parents when they consider carpentry too new-fashioned for them? Carpentry is one of the world’s oldest professions. If they were old-fashioned, why were they bewildered?
This line is just so fascinating to me. Robin is incredibly skilled, but I cannot rationalize carpentry being too newfangled for parents to wrap their head around. Who were they? Where are they from? I know your secrets, Robin, I know your parents are gods, too.
The third and final piece is the contrasting pieces of the world at large. Just like ours, it’s a little depressing. Joja Corp runs dozens of what even Cyberpunk would consider a dataslave farm. The world is flooded with consumerism run amok, Orwellian surveillance, and rampant urbanization. The Ferngill Republic is in the middle of a war with the Gotoro Empire and Kent still suffers PTSD from being in a prisoner of war camp.
Stardew Valley isn’t just a town to retire in, it is a place of respite and healing. There are three confirmed magic users deeply tied to the town’s mystical roots. The bears speak and encourage you to manage the world around you. You are rewarded for restoring balance to the valley by being able to recycle things you don’t need. Your main resource in the game, gold, also doesn’t matter that much; if it ever slips into the negative, nothing bad ever happens. You must just work to raise it back up. There is no lose condition in the game.
In many respects it is similar to the Gaiaism philosophy that all living beings are connected, each relying and depending on each other in order to maintain a peaceful coexistence. You help Shane with his nihilism and depression, Sebastian with his ability to express and accept affection, Sam with his dreams, Kent with his problems, Leah with her ambitions, Haley with her generosity and narcissism, or even simple goals like Penny’s idea of a quiet domestic life.
Whether it is the addicted, lost, or scorned, everyone is welcome and everyone can have a home in Stardew Valley. No one embodies this more than Robin who just wants a simple life. Whether it is her own house or her own boat during the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, Robin builds it herself. The feel of wood grain, the smell of lacquer, the stickiness of stain, the thrum of the saw, and the bite of the axe. Robin doesn’t charge you nearly enough for your house upgrades because it is not about the money. Woodworking is what she loves and she lives in a place where barterism, kindness, family, and friendship substitute so many of life's modern problems and inconveniences.
Friendship increases in the game aren’t just a measurement of achievements, a means of getting more recipes, or more candles lit on a grave. You are making friends and getting to know these people for who they are and everyone’s life is bettered because of it. The amount of love I’ve seen for Linus is just staggering. Shane, in all of his melancholy and despite him not being a suitor in the original version of the game, is loved by so many. I know some despise Haley, but I love that I was able to show her what kindness can do for people.
You are in a gentle and loving place, and you are loved.
What a better place for a god to reside? A quiet town filled with peace and love, seeped in nature and the old magics of yore. A loving mate, a family to raise. Land to share with those that forage from its bounty. It’s all she needs.
Robin’s role in all of this? She desires neither worship nor admiration. She is just a friend. A god, certainly, but a friend first and foremost who is just settling down in a quiet town looking for a little peace.

https://preview.redd.it/vxedrolha3w51.png?width=507&format=png&auto=webp&s=d109cc65b008db74dc4ef74d20083c6eeb2cfc60
Image by MagicallyClueless

Sandman: Homecoming - 7 - The Son of Phantasos

OOC:
Below are all the published chapters of Sandman: Homecoming, for your convenience. Enjoy!
Chapter 1 - The Forgemaster's Assistant
Chapter 2 - The Shelf Cloud
Chapter 3 - The Birthday Present
Chapter 4 - The Old and the New
Chapter 5 - The Son of Phobetor
Chapter 6 - The Guilty and the Innocent
Chapter 7 - The Son of Phantasos
I felt bad leaving Camp without much an explanation to my friends, but it was like Brandon said. Sometimes people just leave Camp. I guess I understood what he meant now.
“Last stop, Manhattan station. Everybody out!”
I got off the bus, my now expired, expensive, one-way ticket shoved in the pocket of my signature jacket as I hopped down onto the concrete, muscling through some of the adults that had been on the trip into the city with me. My backpack, the one with the wings, was in my hand, and my Plate of Medusa was on over my shirt and jeans, but none of the passengers seemed to give me much of a glance. My dream-catcher key-chain was shoved into my pocket too. All that was left was-
“That’s one hell of a frisbee, son,” the attendant said, a short, round man with a dark combover style haircut. He wore glasses that made his eyes look larger than fishbowls. He’d been unpacking the bus for the passengers, and was now holding the shield that Jay had given to me, which I took and slung over my shoulder. He continued. “And you’re wearing a… bullet-proof vest, too?”
“Competitive frisbee is pretty hard,” I said simply.
“You’re damn right it’s hard,” he said, a smile now adorning his face. “Don’t let anyone tell you that’s not a sport to be proud of. Go get ‘em, son!”
“Thanks, have a nice day!” I waved at him, then I made my way through the terminal and into the greater city of Manhattan. I’d seen a bit of it from the bus window while riding over the bridge, but it was different up close. I’d been so used to the Greek and cozy architecture of Camp Half-Blood that I’d almost forgotten about the skyscrapers and city streets beyond the Camp’s forcefield border. They looked a lot different now then they did during the Cull, when streets were nearly flooded with blood.
I wondered just how many monsters lurked around the corner, waiting to eat me when I found myself alone. I shifted my dream-catcher key-chain out from my pocket and into my hand.
I got directions to The Henrietta and made my way across the city, crossing every corner thinking it would be my last. When nothing happened, and I made it to the lobby of the Henrietta, I found myself faced with a new concern. The lobby alone looked like something out of a King’s castle, with chandeliers made of more glittering jewels than I’d seen in my entire life. Rich people in fur coats came and went with bellboys following them like shadows, carrying loads of equipment I figured even the Heracles kids back at Camp would have had a hard time with. The adults, all dressed to the nines, gave me some pretty sour looks. No doubt I looked a bit shaggy, and I got the feeling that your average thirteen year old wasn’t even allowed in the lobby of a place like The Henrietta. Was I sure this was the place Albert had wanted me to meet him at?
I fished around for money in my pocket, pulling out a few crumpled twenty dollar bills and some drachma in change, coins I doubted would do me much in the way of favours at the front desk. The man there stared me down like I was a stray dog. He was tall and thin, with white hair kept perfectly clean and suave. He had a pencil thin mustache of the same colour, and a fed up expression. I imagined dealing with rich people all day didn’t make you very accommodating.
“Your business.” The thin man was talking to me, leaning over the pristine counter lined with gold and red velvet. “Are you here to sell... chocolates, perhaps? One of the local school donations?”
“Uh, no,” I said, wondering what he saw when he looked at me, carrying a shield on my back, and a linothorax over my clothes. “I’m… uh, well, I’m meeting a friend, here.”
“I highly doubt that,” the man said, rolling his eyes as he went back to his computer terminal. He didn’t seem in the mood for any further conversation. “Run along now, street rat. I’ll call security if you’ve forgotten where the exit is.”
“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I can make my way out.”
“Perfect. Leave please.”
“Right,” I said. I felt embarrassed. Clearly this wasn’t the right place. I turned to leave, but my suspicions were proven false by the figure that now stood in the threshold of the sliding glass doors of the Henrietta.
He was almost taller in person, I thought, but he was much more clean looking than the last time I’d seen him. Maybe he’d finally gotten some sleep, now that we had an agenda. Albert strode into the lobby wearing a plate set of celestial bronze. He was more shiny than the decorative furniture. His black hair was freshly styled short and clean, and his beard was trimmed down to stubble once again. His blue eyes were piercing azure in contrast to the dull orange glow of his armour. I wondered what all the mortals saw when they looked at him.
“I have a reservation,” he said calmly, giving me a wink as he walked towards the front desk. “I see my friend was trying to check in? It should be under Albert Ethans. The Observer’s Suite, top floor.”
“Ah, mister Ethans,” the thin man said, though he didn’t look apologetic in the slightest, simply looking quizzical as he sorted through some documents on his desk. “You’re the… Twitch… Streamer? Is that correct?”
“Yep,” Albert said. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from laughing.
“And you’re paying in… cash.”
“Yep.”
“Very well,” the thin man said, “you seem to have cleared this with my superiors over the phone.” The man turned from his computer and folded his hands, grinning wider than I’d seen most people capable of. “Your receipt should be in your bag, as is listed in your file.”
“Right, right,” Albert said, and he knelt down in front of the desk. Suddenly, seemingly from no source at all, grains of sand started to formulate and solidify, like a small sand structure of a duffle bag. Albert placed his hands on the sculpture, and suddenly it wasn’t one anymore, but instead a solid bag, a bag he then unzipped to show rolled wads of cash. It looked like something a bank robber might have. He smiled at me again, closed the bag, and as quickly as it had appeared, the bag simply crumpled into the ground like any sandcastle might under the slightest amount of pressure. In a few more seconds, the sand was gone entirely, and Albert had paid for our rooms with more cash than I’d seen in my entire life. I followed Albert to the elevator, watching as he pressed the top-most button and closed the doors behind us.
“What was that?” I asked, still thinking about the bag, “and… he didn’t even, like no one noticed?”
“Barry, come on,” Albert said. “I’m wearing a full set of armour, and no one noticed that either. Mortals see what they want to see. That little trick was no different.”
“Hell of a trick,” I said.
“It’s one you can learn,” Albert said with a smile, leaning against the wall of the elevator as it shot upwards to the suites of The Henrietta. “Once the Dreamscape trusts you, it can keep things for you. Have you ever noticed how you always have your stuff when you go to the Dreamscape? The connection works both ways.”
“Oh,” I said, as the golden doors of the elevator opened, and an equally exuberant hallway stretched out before us. I followed Albert, who seemed to know where he was going. I continued to speak. “Well, I’ll get practicing.”
“Sure, but another night.” Albert had stopped before a set of double doors and swiped a keycard he’d gotten from the thin man at the desk. A light at the base of the doors shifted from red to green. “Tonight we’re just gonna hang out. We catch our train tomorrow.”
~
It turns out that you can do a decent amount of hanging out in a luxury hotel suite, especially when you’ve got nothing to do until tomorrow morning.
Camp Half-Blood had easily been the best place I’d ever lived, but even inside its magical borders there were amenities it couldn’t afford. The Henrietta, on the other hand, had anything a thirteen year old boy could ever want. Our room had a hot tub, a crazy big TV with endless cartoons, game systems, room service - which I tried for the first time - and brochures for free fast food. It was a paradise.
“There’s a place like this in Vegas,” Albert said, taking a slice of pizza and folding it in half as he took a giant bite. “The Lotus Casino, I think it’s called. Just remember that name if you ever take a trip there.”
“Awesome,” I said, my thumbs fumbling over the controller as I tried to play Super Smash Bros, a game I’d played with Brandon on occasion. I was getting in a lot of practice tonight, but I was still pretty terrible. “I’ll look it up.”
“Well, no,” Albert said with a chuckle, “I mean you should try and avoid it. Monsters own the place. They use it for luring demigods and trapping them with luxuries. Time works differently there, so you could be trapped for years without even realizing it.”
“Oh,” I said, looking towards the clock on one of the many nightstands in our gorgeous room. It read 1:13am. I’d realized I’d lost track of time pretty quickly, which meant I probably wouldn’t survive my trip to the Lotus Casino. “Well, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“No problem, Barry,” Albert said, dipping his pizza crust in some sauce I didn’t know the name of. “It’s a big world out there, you’d do well to- Wait, pause the game.”
I hit the start button on my controller, and looked over to Albert. We were both in pajamas, essentially, wearing t-shirts and sweatpants. Even in something so casual Albert had a cautious, almost terrified look on his face.
“What is it?”
Albert held his hand out to me to silence my questions. I tried to listen for something, to hear what Albert was hearing. I didn’t hear anything unusual, but I realized I must have left the shower running, because there was hissing coming from a different room.
But… I didn’t leave the shower running. And the bathroom wasn’t in that direction.
“Shit,” Albert said, and he rolled off the bed to grab his sword. It was a simple thing made of weathered celestial bronze, with more dents and grooves than I’d seen on any training sword at Camp. It had seen more fights than I had, that was for sure.
“What’s happening,” I said, grabbing my key-chain out from my pocket. “What’s going on?”
The door burst open, and there I saw monsters I hadn’t seen since my first summer at Camp Half-Blood. I’d only barely made it away from them before, but that was before my training. Still, even with all the knowledge of combat Jay had managed to shove into my brain, nothing really prepared you for the real thing.
Three scythian dracanae hissed at the threshold of our suite, and after a moment of silent pause, they pounced.
OOC:
Thank you so much for reading! Barry has officially left Camp!
Next Time in Sandman: Homecoming
A familiar face talks. Barry holds a grudge. There’s an explosion in New York.

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[Let's build D100] Ships you might come across in a busy port.

The party has come into a busy port and decide to visit some other ships. Who might they discover, what might they find?

d100 Interesting Ships in a Port

Shani and Aurora's Tent of Two - The two goblin sisters Shani and Aurora sail providing services to port settlements. Shani claims to be a seer and charges 60gp for a "reading" of the future (she is not). Aurora 'The useful one' provides the service of casting identify for 20gp. She may also agree to sell some of her extensive library if offered the right price. [dweeb_bush]
The Bones Brothers - The bones brothers are a travelling group of jolly bards. As their name suggests they are animated skeletons. Jimbo-double bass, Timbo-guitar, Limbo-vocals, Dimbo-marimba and Franky-drums. They are very hospitable and put on a show for anyone who comes and visits them! [dweeb_bush]
The Lovers - A small nondescript boat lies just off the dock. The is no sign of activity on board apart from the dock inspector who is trying to find out who's boat it is. The truth is the owners of the boat died ten days ago and the boat has miraculously drifted safely into port. on a successful DC 10 investigation or perception check the party members discover two young male elves cowering in the cannonball chest. When the lid is lifted they start begging for their life. If pressed they reveal that the crew was attacked by sirens, the majority of the crew succomed to the siren's calls however the two young boys, deeply infatuated with each other did not care for their temptation. They ran out of food last night and thought they were surely doomed! [dweeb_bush]
The Crows - A large black boat rests in port, neatly secured off one of the more expensive jettys. The most defining feature of the boat is that it is bustling with activity, not by humanoids but 3d12 black ravens. One wears a small captains hat and appears to undersatnd the party. If the party casts speak with animals they discover that the crows were awakened through a series of trials on a new spell aimed to mass awaken a group of creatures. The crows have varying degrees of intelligence and are all chaotic neutral alligned. The crows rebelled from, Hignory Flip, the wizard running the trials on a small island about 2 days sail from the port, and stole his ship. [dweeb_bush]
Captain Redbeak! - A suspicious longship hovers low on the water. There is a steady stream of humanoids entering the covered boat and leaving a few minutes later with a small package. The ship belongs to Captain Redbeak, a feirce pirate captain who runs a drug trade: the drug in question is a relatively cheap drug called "Peak Water" and is collected dew from mountaintops, it gives the user a high that lasts 1d4 hours and gives the user a d4 of bardic inspiration. It costs 10gp per hit. The ship is manned by 2d6 Bandits, and if threatened or reported they will attempt to kill the party in defence of their lives. [dweeb_bush]
Crazy Mr McGee - A delerious man stands warding off the dock guards with what looks like a loaded blunderbus. He's yelling about his notorious reputation as a savage pirate and keeps claiming they have come to "Take away my princess". The princess he's referring to is his boat- he imagines that it is a glourious gallion but in reality it's just a rowboat. If the party manage to subdue the man the dock guards thank them and offer to buy them a drink later that night in the tavern. [dweeb_bush]
A Con??? - The players are drawn to a commotion hidden behind a crowd of people. A large goliath (Manneo) seems to have taken a small dwarf (Skalgrouth) hostage and is threatening to slit his throat if the dock guard do not meet his demands "I'll bloody well kill 'im if you don't give me what I want: 100gp worth of rubies and free passage out of this shit hole!". In reality the goliath and dwarf are working together pulling off this stunt at various ports in the area, so far, to great success! [dweeb_bush]
The Rat's Den - The players follow a stream of rats on board a decrepid looking riverfairing vessel. When they make cross into the canvassed interior they see an old kobold playing the pipes, he seems to be a rat-catcher. If the party interrupt him in his ritual he turns the a swarm of rats against the party and runs off into the port. [dweeb_bush]
Seeking Refuge - A smallish sloop titled 'The Diamond Endeavour' pulls into port, it's sinking and fast! A crew member (Emery Green) jumps onto the dockside and is yelling for help. The vessel was struck by a great storm while at sea and they sustained damage when they brushed by a reef. Luckily they werent wrecked but unluckily they could not repair all the damage with materials on board. They've been bailing for hours and can no longer bail as fast as the ship is filling up with water! If the characters wish to help they can make a DC 13 group athletics check to bail enough water to stop the crew from having to jump ship and leave it to sink. If the players are successful Emery thanks them profusely and offers them a map to a shipwreck they were on the way to dive at before the storm hit them. "It's rumoured that this is the wreck of the old pirate lord, Feather Toothed Bill's ship and may hold riches beyond imagine!" [dweeb_bush]
The Gilded Sail - A group of merchants, all of various races, each offering unique, and expensive, magical trinkets. True to their name, their sail is actually a thin sheet of gold, and the rest of their ship is covered in valuable metals and gems. It’s also very well armed, as are the merchants aboard. Keep an eye on the rogue when this one’s around. [Dragon_Overlord]
The Patchwork - A large ship which seems to have been destroyed and repaired numerous times with whatever material the crew had, from birch wood to copper metal to even welded armor and weapons. Speaking of the crew, they appear to be a mishmash of Kenku, Kobold, Halfling, and the occasional Tabaxi and Goblin. The captain appears to be a raccoon by the name of Majos, which, if your party stumbles upon the question of why and how a raccoon is a ship captain, she would respond with “a salty mage who didn’t know how to win a simple game of cards had a tantrum.” She would then offer the party a game of cards in which if the party beats Majos, she rewards the party a hefty sum of 100 GP, and if any party member is any of the races listed above, she rewards an additional magic item (DM’s choice) and offers a position to the party member for them to join her crew. Accept and the party is taken to an additional encounter to an island for treasure. Decline is acceptable and Majos would accept any favor from the party. [SpyroAndToothless]
The Feyr Winds - An elegant ship that carries goods and treasures from far off Elven lands run by a mixture of elven and faerie creatures. Their most illustrious goods are fruits that can do many things such as heal wounds, cure poisons, or even granting stat bonuses for a minute! (Vendor: Fruits are magical and can take on the effect of any potion you want.) [OSpiderBox]
Gnasher's Maw - A tribal-ized longship driven by a "merry" band of lizard folk. They obviously don't understand personal space or social norms, and are seeking people to help them with a Giant problem. (Hook: if your party is having downtime while they look for their next quest, this could be that hook they need.) [OSpiderBox]
The Esteemed Steamboat - Artificers run this marvel of steam engineering. However... it's currently in a state of disrepair. Looks like heavy damage from some monstrosity. While they're extremely proficient in fixing it, they have no money and are looking for work to pay for supplies. (Allies: party could hire some of them for an upcoming task/adventure, or even offer to fund the repairs in exchange for favopassage.) [OSpiderBox]
The Mainstream (You’ll never need a bigger boat!) - A casino cruise ship featuring a large game room, several bars, comfortable rooms, a pool and a hot tub fueled by a continual flame spell. It is captained by a tall, brown scaled lizardfolk woman named Kepesk. The dealers are kenku bards repeating rules and barking (“Step right up, try you’re luck at the Wheel of the Goddess of Fortune!”) There is also a large vault of gold on board, guarded by lizardfolk soldiers. One particular patron is looking for a few helping hands for a bit of a caper now that he knows the guards patrol schedules. [spiff2]
Rocinante - A relatively fancy and expensive ship being up kept by the Quijano family and their servants. The last living member of the family is a young man, obsessed with swords and thirst for adventure. He agrees to let the team borrow the ship, in exchange for him coming with them on their adventures to wherever they’re going. [DrFishPhd]
Deep Blue - In a corner of the harbour, a seemingly empty ship. Sails are neatly furled, crew seems to have left the ship mere hours ago. On the deck, small openings allows the visitor to enter the hold, in it, some barrels, hammocks. Beside one of the hammock, a book, quite old, written in an old version of Common language.In the middle of the hold, some blankets cover a group of trunks, under these trunks, another opening ... leading to another hold. In this hold, vessels, old fashioned lanterns, and some parchment written in ancient language. At the bottom of a bulkhead, an opening, some stairs gong down in another hold.Wood seems ancient, and strange figures are carved into the wooden parts of the boats. Some ancient runes are covering pillars. In the middle of the hold, a panel with nails made of some unknown metal, once open, stairs going down in the dark. From the shadows, the noise of little splaches. [doctor_providence]
The Mosquito - Run by a crew of githyanki pirates. What seems like a normal battle vessel, once on the open ocean, the sails begin turning outward and suddenly the ship begins gliding above the waters surface at fast speeds. [GladiatorJustin]
The C.H.U.D.- The Shell of a massive deceased Dragonturtle floats next to the dock, it’s ends sealed by mechanical claws, and a viewport fitted into the front. The C.H.U.D. (Chelonian Hammerworked Underwater Dirigible) was designed by the Gnomish Inventor Hector Copperspark. Crewed by gnomes and halflings as they are the only ones small enough to man the complex machinery crammed into the turtle shell, the C.H.U.D. is a mercenary vessel that hires out to perform naval attacks. Hector just got a lead on a new job, and he needs some muscle to pull it off... [Lakandalwa]
The Temple - A ship that serves as a mobile temple to a water deity. It goes from port to port to carry services. [SMGB_NeonYoshi]
Cloudscraper - One of the gems of the Romish Empire's formidable fleet, the Cloudscraper is a powerful warship specially constructed for defeating sea monstrosities of all kinds. Developed after the Queen's late husband was killed by an island feeder (colossal sea beasts known for swallowing swaths of land whole), this vessel with an imposing tower-like bridge is loaded up with all types of harpoons, cannons, and magical armor. Some even say that, thanks to a powerful magical engine, the top half of the ship can separate from the brig to chase after flying beasts attempting to get away. With how famous it is, plenty of townsfolk are eager to get a look at the shining bronze beast of a boat. But what's it doing here of all places? [MildlyConcernedGhost]
The Wistful Wanderer - A small sloop with a single cabin in the middle of the deck. A skilled observer might note that the sails and rigging as well as the rudder occasional shift to right the ship or tighten and secure themselves more. The cabin is actually permanently enchanted with a Mordenkainen’s Magnificent mansion and the ship is handled by a permanent crew of 20 unseen servants. It is owned by the Wandering Wizard Wesley Wrycroft. He sails the world at his leisure, seeking trade for scrolls and arcane artifacts. He also regularly hires adventurers to gather difficult to reach artifacts from unworthy hands whenever he finds a lead on the location of such a relic. [Lakandalawa]
The Magic Brawler - A merchant ship with a very strong looking captain comes to port. If the party chooses to look at their items the captain will challenge the party to an arm wrestling match. Beating a DC 20 strength check will award the party one minor magic item from the captain's personal stash, and beating a DC 25 strength check will award a magic item of the DMs choosing. [TheInstitute4]
The Friend Ship - A comfortable looking wooden ship full of people just hanging out on the deck. While aboard this ship you find yourself under the effects of the Charm Person spell to make everyone friendly with each other. [Stormkiko]
The Dragon Ship - Captained by a Dragonborn with a dragon head on the prow, this ship is a merchant vessel crewed by a muscular Dragonborn who sits on the deck smoking a long pipe. The ship has put down for repairs after grazing a rock which tore a few holes in the starboard side. [AndreTheSalty]
Kender - A rag tag ship filled with swashbuckling Kender. The ship looks like it was made from bits and pieces of many different ships.The Kender are very drunk and have no idea how they got to this port. [Slainlion]
The Poor Captain - A ship that looks broken and near sinking, in truth it's one of the most armed ship on the seas. It uses help calls or just their non threatening look to lure ships close so that they can attack them. [DungeonsAndScouts]
The Fisticuffs- A medium sized rowdy ship sits a little way out from the dock. The ship has two massive hands stemming from the hulls on long mechanical arms. The hands have an AC of 25, a damage threshold of 5, and 30 health each. They ship can leave the water and "walk" on the hands. The ship is primarily a combat ship and is crewed by a band of mischevious gnome tinkerers. In addition to attacking (+10 to hit: 4d6 + 8 bludgeoning damage) the hands can also cast Bigby's hand once per day. [dweeb_bush]
The Grain Barge - A large barge with a dirt floor and wheat growing. A single old man lives on the barge, and sells wheat for 2 pountds per copper piece. In the hull of the barge, accessible only by a trapdoor in the old man's shack, is a large pile of carrots. [serious_tabaxi]
Sea Rot - A large gallion speeds into port with a yellow flag raised. As soon as they dock and have paid the docking fee the captain, a large half-orc woman called Mishka, starts calling for help! She reveals that over half of her crew has contracted a strange plague and she fears for her life. She came to port to seek medical assisstance but fears she is infected so dares not go ashore.The plague - Sea Rot - Is highly contagious and air-borne: if a creature comes within 5ft. of an infected creature they must succeed on a DC 17 Constitution save or become infected themself, symptoms take 1d10 days to manifest. The symptoms of Sea Rot are gruesome, starting with the extremities of the body, the body starts depositing water in cytoplasm-like sacks. At the end of every long rest the creature takes 2d6 cold damage and must succeed on a DC 13 Constitution save or suffer 1 permanent constitution damage, the infected creature also has disadvantage on strength and dexterity checks. It can only be cured by magical means that remove a disease.If the party fetches help she rewards them with a small favour and a pouch full of gemstones worth 50gp, in addition, if the party can cure the 20 crew members and contain the plague she offers them passage anywhere, offers an additional 100gp, and her cutlass- a +1 scimmitar that also increases the holder's charisma by 2 while holding it. [dweeb_bush]
Grok's Galley - A medium-sized ship piloted by a Tortle named Grok(He Understands Things)11. The ship is a 2 sailed vessel with few cannons and other wartime mechanisms on them. The crew is very resilient and full of ragtag non-humaniods. Gnolls, Dragonborn, Ratfolk etc.He's about to set sail back home as he's heard of this group of ratfolk that are trying to overthrow the government in his home town. [VKilledTInternet]
The Abigail - An old warship thought to be lost that had been renovated and turned into an inn. It’s run by two very attractive siblings, who turn out to be sirens and one night, they take the boat out to the sea and eat all the passengers. [TardyTortoise]
The Comfort - This massive galleon is an independent freebooter that refuses to pay allegiance to any nation or city. Housing a collection of skilled healers and clerics, the Comfort sails to areas struck by famine, plague, and war, providing healing to whomever requests it. The sailors aboard the vessel have all sworn the same oath, to defend the healers and their patients with their lives no matter the cost.While the Comfort usually is accepted at any port, it sometimes comes under attack when it travels to war torn regions and as such is well equipped to defend itself should it come under attack. [Lakandalawa]
Arabian Traders - An exotic merchant vessel filled with silks, spices, and strange spirits is disembarking. A dashing arabian prince asks basic questions about the city, potentially becoming enamored with one of the party members. He is rich and slightly crazy, and believes anything can be bought for a price. This gets him into trouble when he tries to buy someone's hand in marriage to add to his collection of luxuries and many wives back in his home port. [jfractal]
Deep Sea Scavengar - Salty, untrustworthy sailors (who look like pirates) are disembarking/unloading from their latest voyage. They have been at sea for months, and haven't seen a woman in that long - they openly hit on and jeer at any females in the group with a CHA score of 11 or higher. One sailor tells a fanciful story about sirens that they encountered on their voyage, killing 3 of their men (it's hard to tell if they are serious or not). [jfractal]
His majesty's secret - A heavily outfitted, small warship is in a secret mission from the king. Heavily armed/armored guards stand watch over the docks, turning away everyone, and refusing to divulge their purpose here. [jfractal]
Smallminded Yokels - A small, local fishing vessel filled with xenophobic, small-minded fisherman. The make disparaging remarks about any non-humans if approached. If the party gives them lip, they will get jumped by the crew the next time they wander the harbor at night. [jfractal]
Mussel's Mate - A large fishing vessel that has seen it's better days. Rigging is in tatters, masts are spliced together, mismatched patchworks sails. Oddly enough the captains quarters are extremely well apportioned not at all like the rest of the ship. [hamlet_d]
The Wayward Lady - This ship has an all female crew. The species on board are the outcasts from different lands. They serve as a place for any who are lost to have a home, though men don't tend to stay for long for some reason. After a successful DC 20 insight check it can be found that men on board the ship for 4 months become women. [42firehawk]
The Gypsy - On the deck is what appears to be a stage where beautiful female dancers perform to music provided by a small band of bards. One of the dancers, who is known as the Storyteller, tells stories through song as the rest of the dancers provide her the visuals/backup dancing. Her voice is noticeably quite low for a woman, but is very enchanting nonetheless. An insight check with a DC20 will reveal that all of the performers are cross-dressing men. [Crystalized13]
The Stable - A ship of decent size that carries horses (or any other kind of mount in your game) from port to port and sells them at a decent price to tired and/or injured travelers. It is crewed by a family of six (mother is the captain, father, three sons, three daughters) and a few extras the gathered along their journey, namely; a nice old man who wants to see the world, a young woman with a fiery attitude and an obvious crush on one of the party members, a muscular Dragonborn who has obviously seen some action who now tends to the horses, a bard who offers entertainment to the crew on board and is particularly liked by the children, a mute Druid who helps the horses and is good friends with the Dragonborn (who interprets their sign), and an ex-pirate who loves the sea but wishes to leave their past behind them. [Crystalized13]
The Penny Bucket - The penny bucket is barely a ship. It's looks like a wash-bucket with a wooden T nailed to it and has a large white shirt as a sale. As far as you can tell there's no way to steer, its an utter mystery to you how it ended up in port, let alone why the dock authority would charge it to dock. When you peer inside the bucket you see a small red pseudodragon peacefully sleeping on it's hoard, which consists of 3pp, 16gp, 103sp, and 56cp, 6 rubies worth 30gp, and a dusty diamond worth 300gp , and a small magical trinket of the DM's choice. If woken up the Pseudodragon wakes up and fiercely snarls , cowering, and protecting its stuff. The dragon will trade any of the items in its hoard if the adventurers offer something of value, or a large amount of food. If the party wants to adopt the dragon along with it's hoard it may be won over with gifts and a DC18 animal handling check. [dweeb_bush]
The Crafty Raft - A makeshift raft has floated down the coast and slammed into the dock. There is no one on board and it appears to be unmanned. There is a note fixed to the mast with a tiny butterknife. The note has directions, "at the lightning stump follow the stream and rescue us". The raft, and attached note were made by crafty goblins attempting to lure creatures down the coast right into a trap. The goblins have made finding their hideout incredibly easy. With a DC 5 nature (tracking) check the party can find the tree and follow it down to the river. The real trap is a series of pitfall traps cleverly hidden in and around the stream. If the adventurers continue along the stream they must succeed on a DC18 Perception check to avoid it and must succeed on a DC14 Dexterity save or fall 10ft. into spikes and take 1d6 bludgeoning damage and 2d6 piercing damage. They are then accosted by 2d4 goblins. [dweeb_bush]
The Illusory Boat - Moored in the port is a huge gleaming golden pirate ship, there must be at least 50 richly dressed halflings manning it. There's a long gangplank extending to the dock. Suddenly there's the noise of several cannons firing off. The guards rush over to the ship, fearing that they are attacking the port. They scream at the ship- "come down here and speak to us you cowards, we can't board your ship without permission but we will call the town guard!" A voice calls from the ship yelling insults at the guards aiming to infuriate them till they board the boat. If any one steps on the gangplank they must succeed on a DC 14 Dexterity save or fall into the water, as they do the ship dissapears and it's revealed that the entire ship is a major illusion cast by three giggling wizards who run away from one of the neighboring piers. [dweeb_bush]
The Question - There's a metallic ship floating in the water. From it you hear loud beeping, chirping, and whirring noises coming from it and it's attracted a large crowd of 3d10 townsfolk, who are fearfully inspecting the ship. As you approach closer you begin to hear a voice in all the artificial noises. You hear it asking thousands of questions, in thousands of voices: "who am I?", "why am I here?", "What's that ugly thing over there?", "what is the meaning to life", "Why are there people watching me?", and other creepy remarks that give the idea that the ship is conscious and scared. When the adventurers look into the boat they see a blinking green, light with a swirling marbled texture on it. The light turns red and starts asking questions very specific to the party. Before long it begins speaking in tongues and a flash of blinding light appears. The adventurers make a DC13 constitution save. On a failed save they are blinded for a minute and take 4d4 psychic damage or half as much on a successful save. When the adventurers look again the ship is gone and there is just a small gemstone floating in the water, whispering to the party in tongues that are unintelligible. [dweeb_bush]
The mistake -A small boat that seems to have been renamed fairly recently. The - ake part of the name is in a different calligraphy and color from the rest of the name [Ido97]
The Barnacle - An old weathered gun-ship bearing it's scars from many a battle, but nevertheless being no worse for the wear. Built strong from some ancient hardwoods and it has been well maintained to the best a ship of that age could be. The crew is a rowdy bunch of salty Dawgs that work as hard as they play...and they fight even harder. They may squabble amongst themselves, but don't you dare mess with or insult one of their brotherhood. They have come to port ready to sell their wares, collect their bounty and spend it irresponsibly. All so they can find their next mission and do it all over again. [gothic03]
The Bauntoo - A strange ramshackle ship occupied by amphibious humanoids that spend near their entire lives out at sea, trade in weird cool stuff they've found deep diving into cool underwater locations like ocean ruins, and wont be at port for long. [Swerve-Bro]
The Leviathan - A huge ship listing hard to one side, its mast broken halfway up and the sails drooping to the deck. All of the wood is dark brown, slimy and rotting out. It looks like someone pulled a shipwreck from the bottom of the sea and it remained afloat by some miracle. If the party inspects the ship, they will find it has already been thoroughly looted and all that remains of the crew are skeletons. (Whether the skeletons are animated or not is up to you). The dock guards will tell you that a huge fog rolled in last night and this ship was there when the fog lifted. [painterinsomniac]
The Menagerie - A decent sized merchant ship, this one is run by all sorts of different creatures though none are humanoid. This ship was originally a travelling circus showing off all manner of awakened animals who were kept captive. The animals are quite amiable and will offer carry passengers in exchange for assistance selling their goods in markets. [painterinsomniac]
The Coffin - A casket-shaped ship that contains the body of a 21-ft giant. The top of the casket has been fitted with sails and rigging and is manned by a crew of humans who tell the party that the giant hired them before his death. He always wanted to sail around the world, so half of all his treasures would be given to the crew who sailed him around the world. The money is to be awarded upon the crews return to the giant's family home, and the crew must have an artefact from each land to prove their voyage complete to the family and get their loot. Of course, the crew isn't bothering with actually sailing around the world - they're content to just make port for a year and trade people for ancestral trinkets so they can return to the land of giants in a year and take their massive loot. They've been given a hefty advance to cover the cost of their long voyage, so money is no object. Adventurers can sell their items if the item is from a distinct background (eg a Dwarven Warhammer, an Elven scroll of healing, etc). [Anceaus]
The Lighthouse - This ship is captained by a young cowardly wizard and an equally nervous-looking crew of young human men. Atop the central mast is a large lighthouse light, which the owner uses to keep other ships far away from him while at sea so as to avoid any trouble. If approached, the captain will immediately begin grovelling and handing over loot at the sight of the party's weapons, offering them any onboard services he can think of for his crew to do for them (shoeshines, blade sharpening, armour mending).Turns out it's all an act - the captain is actually a conniving trickster who transports and deals in Light Blue Light, a magical drug that induces paranoia/twitchy behaviour but grants a 1d6 bonus to Strength for a period of 1 hour. [Anceaus]
The Nest - A vaguely ship-shaped bramble of collected branches and tar, this vessel doesn't look like it should even float, much less sail. It's run completely by Kenku's. They love to collect shiny objects and every nook and cranny of the nest is filled with glittering pieces of treasure and trinkets, among which are a range of magical items.Anything can be bought for a price, but what they especially want is for the adventurers to help them get a shiny old chalice that they've spotted beneath the waters of the harbour - they aren't big swimmers. [Anceaus]
The Half-Pint - An average looking, 2nd-rate ship run exclusively by halflings and gnomes. The crew are rolling a large number of barrels off the ship. A DC 13 Investigation Check will uncover that the Half-Pint has almost twice as many decks as a regular ship of that size and the diminutive crew use the extra space to smuggle illegal magical ale that has explosive side effects. If approached, the first mate (a scruffy gnome named Sebastiano who trusts people a little too easily considering his trade) will ask the party if they are 'for hire' or just want a cask.If the party is looking to buy, refer to the http://dndspeak.com/2017/12/100-random-potion-effects/ to determine what effect their beer has.If they're interested in the job, he would have them guard a supply wagon transporting contraband IPA to an old wizard who lives in an ivory tower in the nearby forest for a sum of 25gp each. What the party doesn't know is that the wizard is in the process of transitioning into a Lich, and the beer is the magical conduit by which he has been transforming. The wizard has the stats of a Revenant if the party chooses to fight him. If an unconscious creature drinks the illegal beer, they will be revived and become Undead. [Anceaus]
The "Blu Moon" - A two masted Caravel. An ocean going merchant ship, that has recently been damaged by pirates, but escaped because they dumped all cargo overboard. The ship is being repaired and expected to be ready in two days. The captain, Quintus "Full" Moon, already has agreed to transport 24 bales of dyed fabric to [INSERT DESTINATION] but is now looking for some more cargo for the same destination. The rest of the crew is: first mate Eldan Wind (m half-elf), bosun Karrla (f half-orc), helmsman Olfie Re (f half-elf), cook Carlin Zwiet (f gnome), and four human sailors: Frenk(m), Ra(f), Tjoris(m) en Huub(m). Huub is a 12 year old boy on his first trip. [Jeeve65]
The Leatherback - A merchant ship from a faraway land. It is made of a beautiful reddish wood and adorned with many colorful flags. About half the crew is made up of tortles and the other half consists of various other races they picked up on their travels. They are very friendly people and will happily buy you a drink or two in exchange for stories of your adventures or of the places and cultures you’ve experienced. If they take a liking to you they're even willing to give you free passage to wherever you'd like to travel... as long as that place happens to be the next port along their voyage. [TheMightyLoaf]
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