B’ob, (aka Lance) of the House of Ch’icken, lives!
Of course, she now has to go all over hell seeking a magical artifact for her rescuer, being held by some pirates known as the Crimson Bow (rapidly renamed the Crimson Bowel) or die in a year and a day. But we’re on top of it.
Well, we were, until the ship exploded.
In proper paladinly fashion, I refused to simply take the lifeboat and, y’know, do the sensible thing, and instead we lashed anything floatable together and made a crude raft that everybody onboard could escape on. I don’t know if the GM was quite expecting that, but c’mon. Taking the boat and leaving people on a sinking ship would not be a noble act. Sure, it took us longer to drift to a habitable island with twenty civilians in tow, but it was noble!
James’s ranger now has a badger animal companion, named Blinky. Blinky is sort of like a hand grenade with fur. It’s astonishing, but no matter how many times James utters the phrase “I’m going to handle my badger,” it never sounds any less obscene.
And B’ob has a new chicken! Following great lamentations over the demise of her last chicken, the party all trooped down to the animal market to get B’ob a new chicken. B’ob selected a small, fuzzy one that’s active at night and roosts upside down. Attempts to explain to her that her chicken was actually a small bat were met with blank noncomprehension. B’ob is great at organizing people to form bucket brigades to try and keep the ship from burning, and can yell “Don’t panic! Let’s all work together!” with the best of ‘em, but she has some peculiar blind spots where her chickens are concerned. (I set up a random roll on that one for species–there was a slim chance she could have gotten a wolverine or a platypus, but the bat has definite portability advantages. I figured the form of Bob’s mild insanity should be left up to fate.)
And that was how I spent my day. Tomorrow, back to work!