“I’m done after this.”
Ocean Spray sighed. “We’ve still got four more crates of oranges to unload, Scrubby. You can take a break after we’ve finished with them.”
But the shorter stallion shook his head. “No, I mean, when this job is over I quit.”
Compass Rose looked up from the clipboard that she was writing on, sharing a glance with Ocean Spray before looking at the third member of their group. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice betraying only the slightest hint of frustration.
But Scrubby made no such effort to hide his own dissatisfaction. “I’m talking about this place!” he shouted, earning a few looks from the other ponies ferrying their wares from their boats onto Vanhoover’s docks. Realizing he was making a spectacle out of himself, Scrubby waited until he and Ocean Spray had finished unloading their crate, and then continued in a voice that was softer, but no less intense than before. “I mean I don’t want to work here anymore! In fact, I don’t ever want to come back here again!”
“Scrubby…” Ocean Spray let out a slow breath, not because he was upset by his crewmate’s outburst, but because he understood where he was coming from all too well.
But Scrubby wasn’t finished. “Do you remember how this all started? We were just supposed to ferry that…crazy wizard here, in exchange for his having repaired the crack in our ship’s hull.” He glanced around nervously, as though worried that Lex would hear the insult and come seeking vengeance. “And then as soon as we got here we were attacked by monsters, had our ship destroyed, and were forced to fight just to survive!”
“We know all of that, Scrubby.” Compass Rose almost never lost her composure, but Ocean Spray could see it starting to fray now, her voice flatter than usual as she glared at Scrubby over the rim of her glasses. “We were there too. What’s your point?”
“My point,” hissed Scrubby, “is that some of us didn’t survive! We lost Sandbar, and we lost the Captain, and yet we still keep coming back here! Why?!”
“Because this is where the work is.” Ocean Spray’s answer came with a helpless shrug. “Right now everypony in Tall Tale is looking to send goods to Vanhoover, and we need the money.”
“Who are you trying to kid?” huffed Scrubby. “The money has nothing to do with it and we all know it! We keep taking these jobs because leaving…leaving means admitting they’re gone.” He suddenly faltered, but kept going. “I miss them, and I know you guys miss them more, but I can’t keep doing this. After this job is over, I’m not coming back.”
Compass Rose closed her eyes at Scrubby’s announcement, and Ocean Spray bit his lip, looking toward the warehouses that lined the wharf. They weren’t very far from where he and the Captain-, no, where he and C. Shells had their first time together, in the aftermath of the battle that they’d gone through on these same docks. The memory sent an ache through his chest. They had flirted for months before then, but never seriously, and he’d chalked it up to the natural tension that developed from being at sea together for prolonged periods of time. That it had ended up blossoming into something more, only to be cut short so abruptly… “Maybe you’re right.”
“Ocean Spray!” Compass Rose sounded angry and saddened in equal measure.
“He’s not wrong, Rose.” Once, Ocean Spray would never have dreamed of calling the first mate by her name so casually, but that he found it easy to do now – and the way she didn’t chastise him for it – only seemed to drive Scrubby’s point home. “Nothing’s the same anymore, and I feel like we’re just…” He rolled a hoof, as though trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “Like we’re just staying here, hoping to catch one more glimpse of them.” He looked back toward the wharf, where ponies were going about their business. “But we’re not. And no matter how long we wait here, they’re not going to just suddenly reappear-”
There she was.
Ocean Spray nearly bit his tongue as he froze, his jaw opening and closing dumbly as his brain disagreed with what his eyes were telling him. But although he knew it was impossible, the mare that had just appeared out of the crowd of ponies had to be C. Shells. Her coat was the same soft green, her mane and tail were the same off-white, and even her cutie mark – a ship on top of a cresting wave – was the same! Only her captain’s hat was missing.
And next to her…it couldn’t possibly have been Sandbar, but just like with C. Shells, the stallion’s appearance was a perfect match for his dead friend. Except for the missing scar on his neck, and his lack of his usual bandana. Even the dopey grin was the same, seeing it cross the other pony’s face as he spotted them, waving before turning and tapping the mare who couldn’t have been their old captain, pointing them out to her.
“Ocean Spray? What’s…” Beside him, Compass Rose fell silent as she caught sight of who was approaching them. Out of his peripheral vision, Ocean Spray saw Scrubby do the same, the shorter stallion gasping loudly as his eyes went wide.
“Hey guys!” smiled Sandbar, trotting up to them like he was just coming back from grabbing a bite to eat. “Guess who’s back?!”
Rolling her eyes, C. Shells nudged Sandbar out of the way. “I know this must-”
“CHANGELINGS!” howled Scrubby, rushing backwards as fast as his legs could carry him. Everypony on the docks instantly stopped what they were doing, staring as Scrubby continued to howl, putting more distance between himself and the pair of should-have-been-dead ponies. “CHANGELINGS! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR L-”
The rest of his warning was cut off as he reached the end of the pier and went tumbling into the water, coughing and sputtering as he bobbed back to the surface a moment later.
“Wow,” snickered Sandbar. “And here I thought he was just gonna faint when he saw us!”
Scrubby was unable to reply, still hacking up seawater as Compass Rose lifted him back onto the dock with her telekinesis, not taking her eyes off of the resurrected pair. “What’s happening right now?” she demanded, but the seriousness of her question was undercut by how pale she’d gone. “Are you really changelings?”
“No, we're not.” C. Shells stepped forward, shaking her head. “When I first hired you,” she began, looking at Compass Rose, “you thought you knew everything there was about sailing, even though you’d only ever read books about it. You told me to my face that you’d replace me as captain within a year. Then you got seasick on your maiden voyage. You were so embarrassed that I thought you were going to quit once we made port, but instead you marched right back on board when it was time to cast off again. That was when I knew you had what it took to become an excellent captain someday…even if it would take longer than a year.”
Leaving Rose’s lower lip quivering, she turned to Scrubby next. “You once told me that you felt like a barnacle, just clinging to whatever ship you signed on with because anypony could scrub hulls and swab decks. I told you that wasn’t true, because what you contributed wasn’t just keeping the ship clean. It was how the pride you took in its appearance inspired us all.”
“C-Captain…” hiccupped Scrubby.
She flashed him a quick smile, before turning to Ocean Spray, who found that he was trembling slightly. For a moment she didn’t say anything, then an impish grin crossed her features, the kind she’d never shown when issuing orders. In fact, the only time he’d ever seen her look like that had been the few times they’d been alone together after that night in the warehouse. Whenever she’d looked like that, he’d known that their ranks were dropped, and they were a couple rather than captain and sailor. He could feel his heart fluttering at the sight of it again now, remembering how seeing her like that had inspired him to tell her everything from his dreams for the future to embarrassing stories of him as a child…
“When you were three years old, and first learned what cutie marks were, you told your parents you wanted to be a ballerina.”
Giving a cry at the accurate anecdote, Ocean Spray lunged forward, wings beating hard and hooves outstretched as he grabbed C. Shells, certain it was her now. All around him he heard gasps and startled cries, but he didn’t care. Instead, all of his attention was focused on the mare in his forelegs, unable to hold back as he leaned forward and kissed her for all he was worth.
When she returned the kiss, his heart – which had broken from losing her – sang with joy.
The moment seemed to last forever, and when it was finally over, Ocean Spray belatedly realized that they were in the air, his wings flapping as he kept them both hovering fifteen feet off the ground and rotating slowly, all while he held C. Shells close.
All around them, ponies were applauding the romantic display, whooping and stomping their hooves, clearly no longer worried about Scrubby’s alarm. The shouting was enough to make Ocean Spray blush, and he was surprised to see C. Shells doing the same as he slowly brought them back down to the ground. “I missed you so much, Coral!”
Scrubby’s eyes widened, and he leaned over to Compass Rose. “Wait, the ‘C’ stands for ‘Coral’? I thought it was for ‘Captain’?”
“Don’t be silly,” grunted the redheaded mare, wiping her eyes. “It’s not like she changed her name just because she was in command of a ship. Even if she likes to tease passengers about that sometimes.”
“Hey, um, so long as we’re proving that we’re not really changelings,” interjected Sandbar, trotting over to Scrubby. “You still owe me ten bits.”
“What?” scoffed Scrubby. “No I don’t!”
“Um, yeah,” huffed Sandbar. “Remember back in the warehouse, when everypony was placing bets on whether or not Lex and Sonata were going to get hitched? You said-”
“How is this possible?” Compass Rose stepped toward Ocean Spray and C. Shells. “Was Lex wrong about you two…”
“Dying?” finished C. Shells. Shaking her head, she stepped away from Ocean Spray. Although there was no outward change in her demeanor, the rest of her crew could immediately tell that she was back in her role as their captain. “No, he wasn’t. We were ambushed when we were leaving the city, and we…we didn’t make it.”
“Then how…?”
“How else?” shrugged Sandbar. “Lex brought us back with his magic.”
“He can do that?!” gaped Scrubby.
“Not again,” sighed C. Shells. “He told us that his goddess gave him the power to bring us back, but just once. So no one else is getting a second chance.”
“I’m glad.” Ocean Spray grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing how that sounded. “I mean, I’m not glad he can’t bring anypony else back to life, but if he could only do it once then I’m glad that he chose you. Both of you.” He sent a smile Sandbar’s way before looking back at C. Shells. “So…what now, Captain?”
Smiling, C. Shells glanced around. “Well, it looks like you’re unloading some cargo, so first let’s take care of that. Then we need to find ourselves a new ship. But until we do…”
“Until we do?” prompted Compass Rose.
“Until we do, then by the captain’s decree, once you’ve finished here, we’re all on vacation!” She grinned then, the same boisterous smile she wore whenever they’d finished a demanding assignment. “After how tough this job’s been, I think we deserve it!”
Ocean Spray burst out laughing, and he wasn’t alone, the others joining him a moment later. The sound made his smile widen, and he could almost feel weeks’ worth of sorrow, anger, and grief evaporating as mirth rolled over him. Staying here had been the right idea after all, because impossibly, in defiance of all common sense, the ponies that he’d refused to say goodbye to were back, part of his life once again.
All was right with the world.
Why can’t anything ever go right?
All Starlight had wanted was a chance to get her breath back before Lex Legis showed up. To just lie in the grass and recover as much of her stamina as she could before the inevitable confrontation. But for some reason, nopony seemed to want to let her rest.
First had been Sonata, practically in tears over what had happened to Aria. She’d wanted to at least have her and that other mare receive medical attention, and had almost gone to fetch some doctors before Starlight had stepped in and made her stop. As certain as she felt that those two weren’t going to get up again anytime soon, the last thing she needed was some idiot in a lab coat proving her wrong. If either of those two got back on their hooves while she was still dealing with Lex, then they might interfere, and with how depleted she already felt Starlight knew she couldn’t allow that to happen.
Then there had been the other four ponies she’d come here with. At first Starlight hadn’t minded them fussing over her, but when Party Favor had tried to wipe up some of the blood staining her coat with his burlap cloak, she’d had to put a stop to that. The idiot had come very close to scrubbing her flank, and if he’d ended up smudging her “cutie mark,” then Starlight knew things would have quickly taken a turn for the worse. Fortunately it hadn’t gotten that far, but it had been another bothersome incident when she’d been trying to recover.
And now there were these new nuisances…
“You can’t be serious,” snorted Starlight, looking over the group that had just declared their intent to challenge her.
“We’re very serious!” proclaimed a colt who was apparently the leader, standing at the head of a motley collection of foals and animals as he pointed at her dramatically.
“We’re the Night Mare’s Knights! And we’re here to take you down!”
Multiple encounters with any chance to rest can really increase the CR of an encounter.
More reunions and much deserved joy after the horrors they've been through and they do deserve a break and with what Lex and his goddess just did for them, they'll be more amicable with Vanhoover's new mayor/lord and more likely to work with him in the future, which would likely be important once news of the Crown's stance on Lex Legis finally reaches the other major cities in the country.
Of course, Equestria functions differently from our own society so Celestia ordering a trade embargo would be unlikely to happen unless she's pushed to such an action. Though individual companies and their owners seeking to curry favor with the crown might think differently and given how off hooves the princesses are, they likely won't hear of the situation until it's far too late.
And moving on from my tangent above, Starlight was oh so close to getting exposed for her lies, though all it would take is a bucket of water to help remedy that. Though I'd settle for the Knights distracting her and her 'minions' long enough for their resident healer to work her magic on Aria and Garden Gate so they can finish what they started.
Words from the heart
A brand-new start.
But if you ask
What could be worse
The puppeteer
Writes a dangerous verse.
10267093
And how. CR is a logarithmic measure of fight difficulty. Consecutive fights without pause is like APR amounts.
10267093
Yeah, but let's hope it doesn't work against Lex and co. too. We don't want everyone wearing themselves out taking down Starlight that even Prince Blowhard can take them.
10267805
That would be more a concern if he was even a combatant.
10267093
10267485
10267805 Challenge Ratings have always been more of an art than a science, despite how the d20 System often treats them. While we've been told from the get-go that "A single monster is a moderate challenge for a party of four characters of a level equal to its Challenge Rating," and that such an encounter will "deprive the party of approximately twenty percent of their resources, meaning that they can handle roughly four such encounters; a fifth would probably wipe them out."
In fact, it's a great deal more complicated (or rather, less certain) than that.
For one thing, this operates under the presumption that all character classes are the same, and that a character of a particular level is functionally equivalent (in terms of what it brings to a fight) than any other character of the same level. We know, however, that this isn't true; hence the tier system and the now-common refrain of Linear Fighter, Quadratic Wizard (or, more recently, Angel Summoner and BMX Bandit).
But really, the disparity between classes has less to do with the – to put it nicely – "variable" usefulness of Challenge Ratings. The real issue is that CR itself is highly imprecise, and always has been. For instance, take a look at Craig Cochrane's Challenging Challenge Ratings document (the format is rather awful, but this is a web-based view of a PDF that he uploaded to a forums over a decade ago). It showcases how, if you break down monster statistics via exceptionally-intricate math, a significant number of monster CRs are different from what's officially listed (admittedly for D&D 3.5, but Pathfinder 1E really isn't much different). This was then modified by the guys at Bad Axe Games for their Trailblazer: Teratologue book, which included a "Spine CR."
To summarize, the Spine CR was the CR calculated only using the "spine" of the creature's statistics, which was their nickname for universal elements such as hit points, BAB, saving throws, etc., and discounting special powers such as spellcasting and spell-like abilities. What that showed was that a lot of monsters were a lot less tough than their CR would otherwise indicate (and a select few were even tougher) IF you used them as melee monsters rather than casters or melee-caster hybrid-types. The reason for that is that if we hold that CR is a numerical evaluation of a creature's entire stat block, then all of the things in their stat block that they don't use during an encounter lower their effective CR. And while that might not matter very much for, say, skill listings, it makes a great deal of difference if the monster has long lists of spells and spell-like abilities that it never gets to bring into play. Mihr, as a solar angel, has a CR of 23. But the Teratologue gives him a Spine CR of 11.5, literally half of what it otherwise is! Which makes sense; an optimized fighter-type character will not find AC 44 to be that hard to hit (e.g. an 11th-level fighter with a BAB of +11, a Strength of 26 [starting score of 20, raised by 1 at 4th and 8th levels, and a +4 belt of giant strength] for a +8 bonus, a +3 weapon, +1 Weapon Focus feat, and another +1 from the Greater Weapon Focus feat. That's a +24 right there.
Now that's not so impressive – our fighter still only hits on a natural 20! – but now we fold in the rest of the party using buffs and assists. The cleric drops a prayer spell (+1 luck bonus), moves to flank (+2 flanking bonus; yes it's its own type) and uses the aid another action (+2 untyped bonus). The wizard casts haste (+1 untyped bonus) and greater heroism (+4 morale bonus), and the bard uses inspire greatness (+2 competence bonus). Now our fighter's +24 has risen to +36, meaning that he's hitting on a roll of 8 or higher! That's 65% of the time! Suddenly that 44 AC doesn't seem too impressive!
Now, that's not taking into account Mihr's damage reduction (15/epic and evil) or his regeneration (15/evil artifacts, spells, and effects) or other defenses, but the same point applies. A well-prepared 11th-level party defeating him is entirely conceivable (even if actually killing him might be a bit tricky)...if and only if the GM has him move right into melee and ignores his spells and spell-like abilities (and his slaying arrows, for that matter). But a lot of GMs do exactly this, because getting spells off is a slow process, compared to making a large number of attacks during a full-attack action, let alone the possibility that they're disrupted, counterspelled, saved against, etc. So "Challenge Rating" is, at best, situational depending on how a creature acts.
Now, to bring this back around to the story, Challenge Rating isn't usually applied to PCs, but Lex hasn't actually lived up to his Challenge Rating in a very long time, largely due to a combination of his slow spell recovery, insufficient gear for his level, and not taking full advantage of being the Night Mare's Chosen. That he's quite often injured from pushing himself too hard only compounds the issue. So really, Starlight's being continually softened up before meeting him is largely serving to put things on an equal
footinghoofing.If the NMK don't just defeat her outright, I mean.
10267124 Given how poorly Ocean Spray and his friends have thought of Lex up until now, this will hopefully improve their opinion of him somewhat. Maybe they'll even stick around? It's hard to say, largely depending on what they consider to be a "vacation." Maybe a nice trip to Las Pegasus? Surely that place won't be affected by any of the political upheavals hitting Equestria at the moment?
Of course, the threat of Equestria's princesses taking economic action against Lex remains indirect and diffuse at best. They rely largely on being popular to exercise their influence, rather than exerting power through formal structures and mechanisms the way Lex plans to. I suspect that they'd also be opposed to any sort of embargo (presuming they could even set one up) out of concern for how many other ponies would be affected by it. That's often the problem, in that economic sanctions directed at a particular locale often affect the least affluent disproportionally worse than the rich, even though they're largely innocent bystanders. Likewise, they couldn't really target Lex for individual sanctions, as he doesn't really have any foreign assets that can be seized (and even River Bank's assets are almost all local; the most they could do to her is make her too socially toxic to trade favors among affluent ponies in other cities).
As for Starlight, she avoided a minor disaster in having her cutie mark exposed, but now she's got a new group of enemies to deal with. Let's hope the NMK have what it takes to live up to their leader's vow to take her down!
10269951
Oh goodness that was a lot that didn't really have much to do with 'a lot of encounters with no break is hard!'
10270007 It was mostly dissecting the contextuality of what constitutes "hard" and why.
10270051
Oh sure, except none of it addresses 'more stuff without a break is harder, without adding or changing what the stuff is or how you measure the difficulty of said stuff.'
10270062 I felt that deconstructing the issues surrounding "hardness" (as measured by CR) was more worthy of addressing.
As it is, multiple encounters without a break can be harder, but that's largely an issue of resource-management. To a certain degree, the game presumes that you'll go through several encounters before you call it quits for the day. It's just that Starlight doesn't have much (or anything, really) to replenish lost resources (e.g. hit points) between encounters in a given day, unlike your typical adventuring party.
10270108
But even if there was a cleric at hoof, rapid fire encounters can tax their ability to keep up, even with slots remaining.