Small sailboat WIP.

I've got the Sailboat mostly finished.  I still have to finish painting it but I've got it far enough along to use in the game today.

Small sailboat for Forgotten Islands Campaign

I'm working on a small sailboat for the Savage Worlds Hyboria Forgotten Islands campaign.  It's a simple construction and should be suitable for a small party for island hopping purposes.  I'll probably be making several boats of this size in addition to some larger ships.
I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out.  I've done fancier ships in the past but I have a lot to build for this campaign and don't have the time to make really complicated models.

Savage Hyboria Forgotten Islands: Episode 2 "Allies"

 Three days after being shipwrecked on a strange island chain near the Black Kingdoms Heimdall and Alenna spot two bodies laying on a sandbar just off shore.  Though the bodies appear to be dead they decide to investigate.  After gathering some; healing supplies, water, and food the castaways drug a large log into the surf.  Using the log as a flotation device they paddled out to the sandbar. They discover the bodies of two women lying on the sand.  One is fair skinned with light colored hair and the other dark skinned with blue black hair.  "That one has the look of my people" Heimdall explained gesturing towards the fairer skinned woman.  Both women were armed with short swords and the dark skinned woman had a round shield.

 Using her healing skills Aleena determined that both the women were alive but unconscious.  She reached into her makeshift pouch and produced some strong smelling herbs which she then waved under the nose of the fair skinned woman.  The woman stirred and awoke.  "Where am I?  What happened?" the women spoke in the AEsir tongue.  "We don't know.  Are you a slave?" replied Heimdall.  "Yes... Yes I was a slave.  We escaped last night.  This woman, I don't know her, she helped me.  She could speak the slavers language and she tricked the guard" the woman explained.  Heimdall related what she said to Alenna.  Moving to the other woman the priestess used the same technique to revive her.  "Do not be alarmed.  We are also escaped slaves.  We want to help you" Alenna said, in Aquilonian, as the woman awoke.  Surprisingly the woman replied using the Aquilonian tongue.  "Praise be to all the gods!  I thought I was dead for sure".  
      

 The women explained that after they had escaped they tried to steal one of the slavers boats but it was too heavily guarded so they stole some empty barrels they used to keep themselves afloat.  They tried to head north to another island but the current and a storm blew them south instead.  Neither of them could remember washing onto the sand bar.  Both women were exhausted by their ordeal but uninjured.
"Looks like we have company!" Alenna exclaimed pointing out towards the open water.  Several miles away to the north there was a small sailed vessel heading their way.  "The slavers have found us!" the dark haired woman said.  Quickly the four escaped slaves paddled for shore using the log again as none of them were skilled swimmers.  Alenna slipped from the log but Heimdall was able to catch her with his free arm.

After reaching the shore Alenna and Heimdall helped the exhausted women to the old well house where they could take refuge and hide.  The two then crept up a small hill so they could observe the beach more easily.  The slavers had landed their large raft on the beach.  There were eight of them and a strange looking dog of some sort.  The dog and it's handler quickly found their sent and about half the party began tracking the escaped slaves.

 Alenna and Heimdall fell back toward the runes as the slavers followed their previous trail.  Alenna prayed to Mitra to hide them from the slavers as they ducked behind some dense foliage.  The slavers were approaching the well house when Heimdall and Alenna sprung apon them attacking the two slavers in the back.  Both found their mark with blows that sent the slavers reeling but neither were killed.

 The slavers regained their feet and fought back with vigor.  Neither side could gain the advantage and though heavy blows were traded there were no injuries.  The dog attacked Alenna stunning her and knocking her back.  Seeing that things were going poorly the AEsir woman charged from the well house and attacked the dog with a ferocious battle cry.  The dog turned and made a strange laughing sound then lunged at the woman but was immediately impaled by a strong thrust from the Nordheimer.

 The fighting continued.  Heimdall dispatched one of the slavers with a vicious slash from his scimitar.  Both Heimdall and Alenna had been wounded but were still on their feet.  Unfortunately the AEsir woman miscalculated a lunge against one of the slavers.  The slaver dodged aside and her blade sunk deeply into Alenna's thigh.  Alenna screamed then her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out on the ground.  Seeing this the other woman joined the fight.  

The sounds of battle had drawn the attention of the slavers waiting on the shore.  Three more slavers charged Heimdall one of them armed with a massive two handed scimitar.  Heimdall dispatched one of the men with a thrust to his guts however the slaver with the great scimitar came down hard on the AEsir's shoulder and cut deeply through muscle and tendon and bone.  Heimdall let out a yell then fell to the ground.  The dark skinned woman was also knocked down by the slaver tracker.

Two of the slavers turned and ran back towards the beach but the man with the massive scimitar remained.  He was a skilled fighter and did not show the fear his comrades displayed.  It seemed as he would easily dispatch the escaped slaves but with one wild slash the AEsir woman cut him across the throat nearly taking his head clean off.  With a shocked look the slaver fell to the ground dead.

Raka could hear the other slavers arguing in Stygian, the language that they used, from the beach.  She was uncertain as to what they planned to do but she knew that they had only barely managed to win their fight against these slavers.  Gesturing to the fair skinned woman to help her she began to drag the Aqualonian woman away from the site of the battle.

Rozlynn understood what her companion was trying to do.  She took hold of the AEsir man and grasping him under his arms she began to drag him away.  He was heavy but fortunately she had experience with this kind of thing.

Though badly wounded both Alenna and Heimdall regained consciousness just a short time after the battle.  Though it took some time Alenna was able to use both her magic and healing skills to heal her companions.  Although exhausted from the days events they all agreed that the slavers would likely return in greater force just as soon as they could.  Raka and Rozlynn introduced themselves.  Rozlynn was and AEsir who had been captured by the Vanir who had sold her to Balooka.  Raka claimed to be from Vendhya a land far to the East.  She had been a slave many years and had traveled through many lands before ending up in the slave markets of the Barachan Islands.

Raka told Heimdall and Alenna that the slavers had established a camp on the small island just a mile or so to the northwest.  At the camp they had recaptured about forty slaves and thirty guards.  They had one large sailboat and two smaller rowboats and the raft they had built from salvaged wood.  Balooka was alive but only a few of his officers had survived.  She believed the slaver who wielded the great scimitar was one of his top men. She also explained that the slavers knew this chain of islands was inhabited both by natives and pirates and the slavers also claimed some kind of monsters inhabited some of the islands.  Blaooka had spoken of trying to hire the pirates or buy a ship from them so that they could escape the islands.  

The four decided to return to the ruins.  There was no sign of the slavers.  Only the body of the strange dog remained.  Raka called the dog a Hyena and explained that it was a kind of wild dog from the deserts.  The slavers used them for tracking down escaped slaves.

Certain that the slavers would return within the day Heimdall began digging pit traps around the ruins.  The women sharpened wooden spikes for the traps coating them with rat dung from the rats nest in the tower as a kind of impromptu poison.  Heimdall also made four crude javelins.  Having made the best preparations they could each of them took up hiding positions and waited.

Eventually the slavers raft returned in the late afternoon.  There were seven slavers aboard and another hyena.  There were also five barbaric looking warriors aboard armed with flails.  Four of the slavers came ashore and all of the warriors.

 One of the slavers and the hyena began making their way towards the ruins with the five warriors.  The hyena and it's handler discovered several pit traps as they move along cautiously.  The animal would catch the sent and alert.  Heimdall began to wonder if the effort of digging all the traps had been worthwhile.

 Rozlynn attempted to sneak closer to the enemy but three of the warrior spotted her and immediately charged.  One of the warriors however fell into a pit trap and impaled himself on the caustic spikes.

Heimdall threw one of his javelins at the slaver but it was deflected by the mans leather armor.  Alenna and Raka charged out from their hiding places and attacked the others.  The combat was short and brutal.  The three men were cut down by the women and the hyena was killed by one of the AEsir's javelins.
 

Rozlynn was fighting for her life.  Wielding the great scimitar she had taken from the earlier battle she dispatched the two warriors quickly enough but before she could rejoin her friends three more slavers charged her from an adjacent hill.

 Heimdall, Alenna, and Raka rushed to Rozlynn's aid.  As they charged into the fray three more slavers came over the hill.  Rozlynn wielded the massive blade wildly and although the slavers attacking her were able to evade her blows they kept their distance.

The three slavers on the hill joined the battle.  One of their number fell victim to another pit trap falling head first onto the spikes.  Alenna rushed to Rozlynn's side and cut down one of the slavers just as the AEsir woman dispatched another.  With a savage blow Heimdall split the skull of another spilling his brains onto the ground.  The final slaver threw down his arms and begged not to be killed.
  

After taking the final slaver captive they tied the man up and left him in the ruins.  Taking the slave'rs raft they circled the island to make sure they slavers had not landed another force somewhere else.

The day had been and exhausting battle for survival.  Even though they had won a great victory against the slavers they knew that Balooka's men would return.  They also knew that the slavers had allies.  Their captured man told them that Balooka had hired the warriors from the pirate city on one of the larger islands to the west.  The knowledge that the slavers had recaptured many slaves meant that they might also find some allies of their own if they could free them.  They knew that no matter what happened there was still far more fighting ahead of them.

Notes:  This was quite a grueling session.  The first battle almost ended in the recapture of the players by the slavers.  I had added a slaver officer because I was expecting two more players but I had forgotten how powerful I had made him and did not scale back the encounter enough.  Had it not been for a very lucky damage roll on the part of Rozlynn's player this session would have been quite different.  I now have four players and may potentially gain another three or four which will make for a fairly large party which will also lead to larger encounters.  I've got a lot of projects to get wrapped up for this campaign.   

More miniatures for Hyborian campaign.

 Just posting a few more minis for my Hyborian campaign.  Above are some slaver NPCs.  I painted the humans and my wife painted the Hyena.

We also did some character upgrades for the PCs to bring them more in line with what they are equipped with.  I won't be doing this every game but I do plan to do upgrades from time to time to represent the PCs as they become more advanced.

Slaver's Raft for Forgotten Island campaign

 I built a raft for the slavers for my next Forgotten Islands Hyborian Adventure game.  I made the whole thing from wooden dowels and craft sticks.

The sail is made from brown grocery bag crumpled and soaked with water that I then dried using a hot iron.  I tried to make the raft big enough to have a small combat aboard but no so large as to look unrealistic.  The ropes holding the sail are paper covered floral wire I painted brown.

Not an overly fancy project but I like the way it turned out.

More Hyborian Adventurers and Slavers

 Just thought I would add a shot of my next group of Hyborian Adventurers.  These are all Reaper minis.  The three in the back are from the Bones line.  The photo isn't as nice as I like because I just hand held the shots and used direct flash.  No time to set up my lighting this afternoon.

Here are some slavers.  These are Servants of Set from Westwind games I think.  From the Chaos in Cairo line.

Savage Hyboria Forgotten Islands: Episode 1 "Marooned"

Somewhere west of the Black Kingdoms a small fleet of three slave ships runs headlong into a raging storm.  The ships are dashed against the rocks and smashed to pieces throwing; slaves, slavers, and sailors alike into the rolling ocean waters.  Dozens drown in the torrent but a lucky few are washed to shore somehow alive after their ordeal.

 Heimdall shook his head hoping that his vision would clear up as he lay in the sand on some sort of beach.  It was hot and bright.  The sun was high overhead.  Must have been near mid day or a little after.  He was not sure how long he had been laying on that beach and wherever he was it was a long way from his home in Asgard.  As he reached up to rub his head he pulled his hand back in disgust almost forgetting that the slave traders in the Barachan Islands had shaved off his long blond AEsir locks to shame him and his current owners had kept up the practice.  It was all coming back to him now.  Captured some months ago in a border skirmish with the Vanir he was then sold into slavery in Aquilonia.  He then was taken by ship to the Barachan Islands and sold again to a large dark skinned slaver named Balooka.  After spending weeks as a galley oarsman his ship sank during the storm.  But how long had he been unconscious and what was that chanting noise?  A woman's voice.  The language sounded familiar. Nemedian?  No Aqilonian and in a quite polished accent!  Perhaps he could communicate with her.  He had picked up some Aquilonian in the slave markets.  Slowly he pulled himself up and looked up the beach in the direction of the chanting.  He saw a woman there, clearly a slave, wearing only the scant clothing that the slavers allowed her.  She was pale and soft like most Aquilonian women but her hair was long, straight, and black as a Zamoran princess's.  What was she doing kneeling over that dead slaver?  Praying....  Praying to Mitra!  Praying over the corpse of a slaver dog.  Well whoever she was it was time to find out.

Alenna closed the eyes of the dead slaver and finished her prayer of deliverance.  She scolded herself for taking the dagger from the dead mans belt.  She knew stealing was a sin.  Even stealing from the dead but she prayed Mitra in his infinite wisdom would understand and forgive her.  She wondered how she had ended up in this gods forsaken place.  Not but a few short months ago she had been in training to become a full priestess of Mitra in Tarantia where King Conan the Cimmerian ruled.  She had been out running errands for one of the temples priest and the next thing she remembered she was standing in a slave market in the old city docks stripped of her vestments.  Her head had been swimming from being drugged she guessed but she remembered being sold to a pirate.  After that her memory was fuzzy but there was another slave market in a strange ramshackle town.  There she was sold to a big black man she thought was called Balooka.  They had been at sea for several days.  There was a storm then she awoke on this beach next to the body of a slaver from the ship she was on.  She caught something out of the corner of her right eye.  She looked over her shoulder and saw a large wooden crate and two barrels had washed up on the beach.  Perhaps she could find some food or at least clothing.  She looked down at her nearly naked body covered only by some scraps of leather.  She felt ashamed.  The clergy of Mitra were to be chaste and above the carnal passions of the lay people.  Then she noticed a large shadow looming over her.  "Why you pray for that slaver dog?" came a thickly accented male voice.  She looked up and saw a large well built bald man with a heavy looking tree branch in his hand standing over her.  Her first instinct was to run but she froze instead.  The man was wearing a dirty fur loin cloth and nothing else and he looked like a galley slave.  He probably was.  She started to reply "Everyone deserves....".  "No matter!" he said.  "We need food and sleep place.  A camp".  She pointed down the beach at the crate and barrels.  "There!  We might find something there".  Slowly she got to her feet and started to walk towards the large crate.  The stranger followed.
 

As the two slaves approached the crate and barrels the man pointed at a symbol on the crate.  "Balooka" he said.  Suddenly from behind the crates and barrels four large rats sprang out and attacked them.  Instinctively the AEsir took a hasty step back and just as quickly brought his crude club down on one of the rodent's head dashing the creatures brains out.  The priestess let out a short surprised yelp and thrust her dagger blindly towards one of the rodents impaling it through the rib cage as it lunged at her.  The creature writhed on the ground squealing a high pitched death cry.  Deftly adjusting his footing the man swung his weapon again.  This time in a low underhand arc that caught another rat under the chin shattering the jaw and breaking the creatures neck.  The final rat turned to run.  The northman brought his club down to kill it as it fled but he missed and only succeeded in throwing up a cloud of sand.  
For a few moments the two slaves stood there breathing heavily and looking about for more threats.  When they realized they were not in immediate danger the man pointed at the woman's dagger.  "Give!" was all he said.  Carefully the woman held the dagger out to the man.  He took it and began to work the blade under the lip of the crate trying to pry the top side loose.  After he has loosened the rusted nails enough to get fingers underneath the two lifted the top free.
There was no treasure nor food nor clothing.  The crate contained a kind of portable kitchen.  The kind that might be used by Aquilonian legionnaires on the march.  There were two small tables designed so that they may be broken down and stored flat for travel.  A few cast bronze pots.  Some wrought iron skillets and a small wrought iron brazier suspended on chains from an iron tripod.  The man smiled broadly as he pulled a heavy woodsman's ax and four hatchets from the crate.  "Good!" he said.  "Ah!" the man exclaimed as he reached into the crate again lifting out an Aquilonian gladius.  The weapon looked to be a simple soldiers model.  The words LEGIO X were engraved on the top of the scabbard.  The sword belt was simple brown leather with bronze tacks spaced a palms width apart and clasp with a simple iron buckle.  "You." the man said as he held it out towards the woman.  She took the weapon with a bemused smile but then buckled the belt in place firmly about her hips.  The crate also contained a sturdy set of cooking knives and utensils and a small box of simple spices.
The man then turned and pulled the barrels upright out of the sand.  Using one of the hatchets this time he pried the lid off the first one.  It was filled to the top with hard tack.  "Food!" he said.  Then doing the same to the other barrel they quickly discovered it was filled with salted Herring.  "Good Food!" the man said again.  The woman smiled weakly clearly not impressed.
Suddenly the man slapped his hand down forcefully on the empty crate.  The woman jumped back startled.  The man smiled and pointed to a small hillock on the land edge of the beach.  "Make house.  Beach bad!" he said.  "Yes we certainly don't want to be caught down here when the tide comes in." the woman replied.
First they moved the contents of the crate up to the flat top of the hillock.  Then with some effort they pushed the crate to the top as well and laid it on a side so that they could use it as an open shelter.
They then went back for the barrels but as they were starting to push them back up the hill the woman reached out and grabbed the man's forearm.  "Wait I hear voices!" she said in a low voice.  Then the man heard them to.  A foreign but all to familiar language.  "Slaver dogs!" the man growled.  "Hide!" the man pointed up the hill at the crate.  They ran up the hill and both hid behind the large crate.  They saw the men coming up the beach from the north.  Each man wore the black robes with red sashes of the slaver crew.  They were also adorned with black turbans that some of them had draped across their face.  Still others wore theirs loose showing their full black beards.  There were five of them armed with a short scimitar in one hand and a flail in the other.
The party of slavers stopped at the bloody rat corpses.  One began pointing at the barefoot tracks.  He then started to argue with another man.  In moments they all seemed to be arguing with each other ignoring their surroundings.
                       

The northman turned to his companion and made a pushing gesture towards the back of the crate.  She nodded.  Together they heaved with all their strength and the heavy crate toppled down the small hill directly into the party of arguing slavers.  Two of the slavers in the path of the tumbling crate narrowly avoided being crushed by jumping to each side but the slaver standing in the middle of the group was not so lucky.  The surprised man took the crate squarely in the face and went down hard under the weight of the thing.  He did not get back up.                            

The next moment the battle was joined!  The slavers rushed up the slope of the small hill.  The AEsir hurled a hatchet at one of them but the poorly balanced tool flew wide of target and landed harmlessly in the sand below.  The slavers attempted to push their way to the top of the hill but the slaves were not having it.  The northman made a wide sweep with his ax that clearly missed the first slaver to make it to the top of the hill.  Thinking he had a clear shot the slaver pulled his scimitar back high over his left shoulder for a back handed slash grinning wildly.  The miss had been a feint however and before the slaver could deliver his blow the AEsir pulled back reversing his swing and smashing the back of his ax into the mans head.  With a sickening wet thud the right side of the man's skull caved in and he rolled backwards down the hill to his death.
The woman slashed and parried madly as two of the slavers pressed her.  She gave ground and the attacker on her right made a lunging slash for her head.  Instinctively she dropped to one knee with a horizontal slash.  The slaver cried out clutching his mid section in a vain attempt to hold his guts in as he fell.  For a moment the woman froze at the sight and the slaver on her left lunged.  She barely managed to dodge as the blade cut a deep scratch across her left shoulder.  Now it was the slavers turn to be off balance.  She pulled herself to her feet quickly holding her gladius point down with both hands above her head.  Before the slaver could move she sunk the blade into the man's chest up to the hilt with a loud scream.
  

 The final slaver shocked by the sight lowered his guard just enough for the northman to catch him with the haft of his ax.  Dazed the slaver stumbled around for a moment.  The AEsir lifted his ax high but did not deliver the blow.  Instead he smiled a broad mad smile and waited until the slaver looked up.  As the two men's eyes met he brought his ax down hard and cut the slaver from the shoulder to the middle of his torso in a single blow.  Without making a sound the slaver fell to the ground.  The woman fell to her knees exhausted and shaking.
"You fight good." the northman said.  She did not reply.
  

After resting for what seemed like hours the man started cutting vegetation from the jungle to cover their makeshift campsite.  Without saying anything the woman began to help.  They then gathered up the weapons from the slavers.  The woman took one of the slavers robes and sashes to cover her near nakedness.  They each found a suitable pair of boots as well.  One of the slavers had a large full water skin.  At least they could prepare a meal without having to boil sea water down first.  
Looking up they noticed the sun had barely moved.  It was still early in the afternoon.  Not nearly as late as they imagined.  They also noticed something else.  Rising out of the foliage was a stone tower that was actually quite close to their camp.  Looking closer they could see perhaps a couple other buildings at the tower's base.  "A tower!  We should have a look." the woman exclaimed.  "No!" the man said.  "We eat. We sleep. Then we look in morning".  "I suppose you are right.  It does look a bit ominous and old.  This island looks too small for a village.  I wonder if it is some kind of lighthouse." the woman said.  The man only shrugged and held out one of the bronze cook pots towards her.  "Oh no you do not want me to cook!" she said.  "Not if you want to be able to eat anything".  The man grumbled something in his native tongue then stomped up the hill to make a fire.  They sat around the fire eating over cooked and over salted rat meat, dried fish, and hard tack.  The food was barely edible but for months they had both had only gruel and stale bread and so they ate without complaint.

Heimdall sat near the fire as night fell.  His companion had barely finished her supper before she passed out on a bed of ferns she had made inside their makeshift shelter.  She looked at peace breathing there quietly.  Pretty, for a soft southern woman.  But she wasn't that soft.  She had killed two men today and he thought most likely that was a new and unwelcome experience for her.  He had seen more than a few men freeze up after their first kill as well and not snap out of it so quickly.
The jungle around him was full of strange noises.  The sound of insects was almost unbearably loud.  Strange birds cried out a myriad of different calls and there was some kind of creature howling an awful and unnatural howl.  He had heard wolves howling while camping on the tundra in Asgard.  When he was young it filled him with fear but as he got older he got used to is.  It had even become a comforting sound.  How he wished it was wolves howling tonight instead of those wretched beast.  "Ymir you bloody bastard.  What have you gotten this northman into?" he thought to himself.  He could feel himself drifting.  As much as he hated to admit it he was going to have to wake the woman for her turn at guard duty.

Alenna paced about the edge of the camp.  She should feel something after killing those men.  Remorse, guilt, sadness, something at least.  Instead she felt nothing.  Nothing she thought she should be feeling anyway.  Killing was not the way of Mitra's clergy.  Of course she was only training to be a priestess of Mitra.  She had been abducted before she had finished her training by those bastard slavers!  Damn them and all their kin!  Damn their mothers and their fathers and everyone else they knew!  No she was feeling something.  Anger!  She was angry.  Angry at the slavers for taking her.  Angry at the priest of Mitra for not protecting their flock.  Angry at the ignorant barbarian she was stuck on this island with.  Angry at Mitra!  Yes if he was any kind of loving god how could he allow a devoted follower like her to fall to a fate such as this?  She was angry beyond all reason.  Then, quietly, she started to cry.
"We need wood for fire" she heard the man say.  Gods it was already daylight.  How long had she been setting there crying?
Without a word the man stood up and walked into the jungle picking up branches as he went.  After he had been gone a little while she heard something.  Voices again!  Voices speaking the language of the slavers.  Quietly she crept to the edge of the camp and looked out towards the beach.  About a hundred feet from the shore she saw a large raft with a makeshift sail.  Crewing the raft were about eight slavers and she saw others among them.  Three slaves were tied up and sitting on the deck of the makeshift craft.  "They could spot me at any time!  What was that incantation brother Brennus taught me?  Oh yes!"  Alenna began to chant an incantation and make practiced somatic gestures with her hands.  "Did it work?" she wondered.  If it did she would not be able to tell being that she was inside the spells area of effect.  The slaver raft passed the small island by and then turned to the north west.  

Heimdall had gathered all the dry wood he could carry.  Turning back towards camp he was back at the campsite in minutes.  Or at lest he thought he was back.  Had he gone the wrong way?  The camp should be just ahead on that small hill in front of him.  He couldn't see it.  Or at least he wasn't sure what he was looking at.  "Hey!" he called out.  "Hey woman! Hey!".  "Over here!" he heard her call out.  "Where?" he answered.  "Walk straight ahead." she said.  And so he did and within in moments there was the camp right ahead of him where he left it where he couldn't see it before.  Heimdall glared at the woman.  "Evil magic" he said in Aquilonian.  "No.  Not this kind." she said.  "This is of Mitra!" she explained.
He thought for a moment.  Perhaps it was just a some kind of trick.  He as seen the Gothi of his clan preform tricks that would fool the eye that they ascribed to Ymir.  Perhaps the priest of Mitra had similar tricks.  Before he could finish his thought the woman pointed out towards the water and said "I saw a raft full of slavers out there with some captured slaves.  They passed close to the island but I do not think they saw us.  They turned north west towards that island over there".  Heimdall shrugged.  It seemed to him that perhaps more of the slavers had survived that storm than he hoped.
"Come we look at tower" he said and then turned and walked towards the ruins.  
 

As they got close to the tower they saw two other buildings.  One was a ruined building that looked like some kind of house.  The other was a smaller building more in tact.  From here the tower did look like a light house.  It was clearly on the tallest hill and could easily overlook the entire island.  The top of the tower was open on all sides and roofed.  A signal fire could be easily seen atop it for miles if it was in use.  As they approached it didn't take an expert tracker to see several large rat track trails running in every direction through the soft loam of the jungle floor.  The two companions looked at each other and drew their weapons as a half dozen rats charged out of the foliage.  The fight was brutal but short.  After they killed the last rat they felt safe for a moment but suddenly they heard a strange sound coming from the tower doorway.  It sounded like a loud chattering as squeaking.

Suddenly a giant mutated rat jumped through the tower opening and bolted towards the slaves.  The thing was hideous.  Twisted and covered with boils the creatures eyes glowed with a faint green light.  The two slaves fought desperately against the frenzied creature.  At one point the man lost the grip on his ax and it went flying into the under growth.  Quickly he drew a scimitar he had taken from the slavers just in time to parry a vicious bite attack.  The woman rained blows down on the beast but the creature's thick pelt turned her blows aside.  The creature lunged knocking the woman to the ground.  The beast reared back to pounce but with a defiant roar the northman buried his scimitar in the creature's skull.  The woman then stabbed the mutant in the chest. As it died the unnatural glow faded from they creature's eyes.

As they approached the entrance to the tower they could smell the strong stench of decay.  Cautiously they moved towards the doorway.  The entry way to the tower was a good seven feet off the ground.  Clearly at one time there had been some wooden stairs in place that had long since rotted away.  "Lift me." the woman said.  The AEsir boosted the woman up so that she could see inside the doorway.  "It is dark.  I can not see anything but the stench is awful.  I need light.  Set me down."  The man set the woman down.  She then picked up a rock and staring at it intently she spoke a short incantation.  The rock began to glow with a white light.  "Magic!" the man said.  "A trick" the woman replied.  "Now boost me up again and I will throw this inside".  The man lifted the woman again and she threw the stone into the dark tower.  "There are skeletons everywhere and a few rotting corpses.  Even some men.  Pirates by the look of their equipment.  And some other creatures.  I think they are called monkeys.  But it is strange.  They are dressed as men and have weapons even but they do now posses the intelligence of men so I don't know how they came about their clothing and weapons.  Help me inside so I can take a closer look".  "No I go!" said the man.  "Suit yourself" replied the woman.

Heimdall set the woman down then jumped up and grabbed the lower lip of the doorway.  Pulling himself up and over the threshold he dropped carefully to the floor of the tower.  As the woman had said the place was littered with bones and corpses of every sort.  The wooden floors and stairs of the tower had long ago rotted away and he could see straight to the top of the tower.  He looked over the corpses of the pirates.  Most of their equipment was uselessly decayed but he found a good bronze round shield and a serviceable battle ax.  He also found the "monkey" bodies.  They puzzled him.  As small as a child but with tails with hands like a man and feet like their hands.  They wore strange clothing and rotten leather armor.  Each carried a small shield and a short sword.  Two of them wore strange amulets around their necks with odd writing and a green stone.  They looked to be made of gold but he dare not touch them.  The one who had no amulet had some gold jewelry which he took and a superior sword and shield.  He also took these which he figured the woman could use.  In a moldy leather bag he found some good rope and a grappling hook.  He thought he might be able to use them to get to the top of the tower.  As the stones light began to fade he hauled himself and his loot back out through the doorway.
        

After making several attempts the man finally got the grappling hook to hold fast to the top of the tower.  With some effort he managed to climb the rope until he was to the top.  After that he made a simple sling and helped the woman reach the top of the tower as well.

Heimdall could see for miles from the top of the tower.  To the north a large island chain spread out and turned gently to the north and west.  To the south there were only a very few small islands and rocks then open ocean.  He could see quite a bit of smoke rising from the island directly to the northwest and he thought he could see some coming from several of the smaller islands to the north as well.  He didn't know if the fires were from potential allies or enemies.  He knew some of the slavers had survived and almost certainly other slaves had as well.  Perhaps he would find out soon.  For now however he was content to have survived the last two days.

Alenna looked down at the jungle below the tower.  She could see this island was not large.  She could also see that there were many larger island to the north.  One very large one at least that looked to have an active volcano.  She shuttered for a moment trying to take in the events of the last two days.  She had been thrown into the raging ocean and somehow had made it to shore alive.  She had fought desperately against men and beast.  She had even killed.  She had never though herself capable of such a thing.  In short she had survived thanks in no small part to her barbaric companion.  She didn't even know his name.  It didn't seem important.  They had not had time for formal introductions.  They had only had time to survive on this Forgotten Islands.

Notes:  Wow that turned into a bit of a novel.  I figured that since this was a game report for and role playing game that it should include more story than a war game.  Anyway this was the first episode of my Hyborian based Savage Worlds campaign.  Of course the first arc of the campaign will involve the player characters trying to survive and eventually escape from the Forgotten Islands.  Along the way they will face many horrors and mysteries as their adventure unfolds.  This will be an irregular campaign but at the moment I hope to run at least one segment a month.