This site is an online accumulation of the Post Reports for my current ongoing D&D Campaign - for anyone who might be interested in reading them.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Meet 102, Adv 10, 6/5/10

We were down two, introduced a new character, and started a new adventure this night - as well as getting a late start. Not a good meeting for progressing forward - but any meeting was still worth it.

Summer is always hit and miss for attendance. I'm sure this summer won't be any different.

We haven't heard from the person who plays Detheron for a while now - and even emails and phone calls are not returned, not normally in character (pardon the pun) for this person. I anticipate giving him till the end of the summer and then if I don't hear from him around labor Day, I'll interview again for a replacement body.

Write up follows:

The party discussed some time whether we should go and trip into the swamp to find the possible dragon horde we suspect was sitting out there, or if we should do the right thing and keep our word. Brother Beren was long on the fact that we did agree to go and help Bendern Skelt and that our word was given. Plus, there was a holy week to Tyr coming up and the righting of the possible haunting would go towards fulfilling Brother Beren’s wants and needs for his temple.

It was later in the day that we had another visitor. A tall (well over 6’) adherent to Sif and member of the Melbourne monastery in Dragonhole had sought us out. His name was Bron and he had many good things about our group – most of the local and latest gossip about the dragons, lizardmen, and even the saving of the 4 girls from the gnolls. It turns out he was “brother” to one of the girls and on hearing of our efforts, wanted to come and physically thank us.

Arnog and Bron did not get along almost immediately, the young chaotic and naïve fighter clashed with the lawful and orderly monk. Some jibes were passed back and forth. Bron had heard of our misfortunes and was offering his services and possible desire to join the Sundered Chains. There was some discussion and eventually Arnog and Bron went outside for a circle spar.

Bron was masterful in his combat, hurling mind affecting jabs, stunning blows, and a staccato impact of his 8’ shod staff – actually disarming the fighter briefly. But this only served to infuriate Arnog who resorted to just his tremendous strength and stamina to work Bron back and eventually get the master to accept his loss in the duel.

We invited Bron to come with us as we were going to leave on the morrow to go to Broken Hills, filling in the monastic of what we were suspecting was ahead of us. He agreed and the group then made sure we were set for the two day trip. In the morning we met up with Bendern Skelt at the Sunken Boardwalk where the nobleman was anxious and excited to get started. He asked us about our mounts (we had none) and the group quickly decided that a cart and pair of horses would do the trick for us. He then attempted to pay us with a letter of credit which the party declined – saying they preferred hard coin. Master Skelt nodded, seemed concerned, and suggested that the group wait while he went to have the letter cashed and honored by the Baronet.

We procured the cart and the steeds and eventually Bendern did arrive with 150 crowns in hand and then we left Eider. The ride was hot, the heat of summer weighed on us and the miles passed by. It was a fairly uneventful trip, Bendern filling us in on some of the local interests around Broken Hills (known for its quarries, bronze mining, and strange landscape). Until we arrived at long last.

Broken Hills was situated along the slope of where two hills came together, a ragged cleft running east to west, closing, and then reopening past the town proper. An aqueduct of stone went further into the hills, bringing enough water for the city, there was a larger central defensible keep, and at least 6 fire towers scattered about the place (with pivotable ballistas on each). Bendern told us that occasionally wyverns would attack, carrying off sheep, small cows, or even what Halflings made it their home here.

We followed Bendern to a nice section of town near a northern park and to what was a impressively large, but run down, manor house. Our animals were taken by the stablehands and we followed Bendern in. Sklet Manor had seen better days, the rugs were thin, the larger tapestries missing, and there were too few servants about. At the dining hall we met the elder Skelt who initially berated his son for seeking us out and hiring us before grumbling that it had already been done so the group was welcome to stay for dinner and eventually thanked for coming.

The story of what happened was fleshed out more, and the party actually came to like the elder Skelt; his refreshing honesty and no-nonsense way of talking to the group and explaining the truth of things (and his own family’s shortcomings) showed that he was gruff but fair and truthful. The party had some ideas on what to do next: 1) visit the cemetery and see the family crypt, 2) speak to the priest of Thor and see if the visiting officient was still in town, 3) visit the Potterson family and investigate the crime scene first hand. But first, it was time to finish eating and drinking and our problem solving would happen tomorrow.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Meet 101, Adv 10, 5/22/10

Maintenance Meeting. A time to stop rolling 20's and clean up the sheets, train, buy stuff, sell stuff, chat, and get a little down time.

When I was younger we would gloss these meetings over. As I got older I fleshed them out, often times too much, roll playing every shopping experience and iron spike. I now have a smoother softer experience with it, trying to not exceed more than 2/3rds of a meeting. I know it destroys some of the illusion and the group doesn't get the immersive feel of wandering the world, but not everyone can participate in the haggling over flasks of oil.

Maybe I'll bring it back once or twice and see how the group likes it.

I didn't want the group to assume they had to go back to the temple complex to finish off the adventure - they don't have too - it's up to them. So I dangled an adventure for them - again, they didn't have to take it. It was a half paragraph idea and if they took it, I would flesh it out and write it up - if they didn't, it's no problem either.

I was happy they took it as I have some interesting ideas for this.

Write up follows:

We slept well and awoke the next day somewhat refreshed. We went to the kitchen where we made a quick meal (Norris) or what foodstuffs we had as well as what he could drum up. Some of the locals chatted with us and eventually Rigil Blackshadow came in and sat down, sharing our meal and talking with us of what he had learned.

Vanir had spent another 20 minutes with Baronet Wodenlach before leaving, going to the docks where he met up with two men that had come in on a ship of unknown origin. The three of them then clambered on horses that Vanir had already had with him and they rode out the main gate, assumingly riding west towards Dilabria. The Baronet was no longer acting odd and from what could be gathered, he was affected by a potion of domination or some sort of suggestive poison – both very suspect, very rare, and very difficult to make/procure.

At this point there was some purchasing by Gwyn of poison from Blackshadow’s toxologist and then the party took the boat back to the mainland with Norris getting a thumbs-up from the thief master for his actions, efforts, and the commendable way he’d been handling things as of late (even though Nelia died).

The group then spent the next couple of weeks resting, relaxing, healing, and training – having local artisans make new items for gear that had worn out, or ordering new gear to be imported on the trade caravans from Dilabria and Cymbarton. We also decided as a party that spending night after night at the Sunken Boardwalk was fine for short term; if we were going to live here we needed a more permanent residence.

We settled after looking at real estate at a modest 2 story structure south of Raised Road, just off the main street. The interior was a sparse but the walls were in good shape and the roof was slate shingled and doors stout. We went back and forth to the carpenters and smiths, buying furniture, beds, linens, shelves, chairs, tables, chests, cases, pots, pans, knives, cutlery, dishes, and mugs. There was a large main common room adjoining the kitchen area, an indoor water closet, two bedrooms downstairs, and 4 bedrooms upstairs as well as a large closet space. Many of the party then purchased locks for their doors and chests and spent some free time settling in.

A few small jobs came our way, helping to dig new shoring pilings at the docks, guard duty for some persons of importance, longshoreman work when the big ships came in, even some time at the Hospice helping to entertain those lying their sick. Our efforts against the lizardmen, Haydin and Kazak’s wagging tongues, the subtle nods of approval from Blackshadow’s thieves guild and Wodenlach’s manor house, and the fact that we had slain a dragon and had some of the beast’s claws/teeth to prove served to give the group some notoriety. Even Arnog joined in, adopting the last name of Dragonslayer and giving himself the title of Sergeant.

There were some things still left out there. Where was the real Zoltan? Lost in the lizardman temple complex? Dead/Alive? What about the threat “below the temple” that Kazak had talked about? Should we take care of it? Was it our responsibility? And the dragon, it was slain, but did it have a horde? Treasure? Was it out there in the swamp waiting to be claimed? According to the rumors about town, there had been a few 6-figure lizardman patrols seen within ½ mile of Eider, larger than normal and closer than the people would like. Were they looking for us? Something else?

It was Firemonth the 2nd, the heat of summer was sinking in claws and the days had been hot and humid as of late when we had a knock at our door. A man was there, early 20’s, brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, nice clothes but a bit worn and last year’s cut and style, a silver hilted rapier at his belt but a few of the bigger stones missing. He introduced himself as Bendern Skelt and wanted to talk to The Sundered Chains about a job. We invited him in and listened to his tale over lunch.

He was from Broken Hills, a trading town some 50 miles from here known for their bronze and quarries, and word had reached his home about the group and their exploits. He was a minor noble family, rich in lands but poor in money and income and there was a problem.

His grandfather was a notorious gambler and after squandering much of the family’s money passed away about a year ago. His father had taken over the holdings and was desperately trying to pay off the many creditors his grandfather had failed to pay. It was tough work and there was still some to do. So in an effort to garner some cash, his father had the family crypt opened and began looting the dead to sell the Skelt heirlooms from the bodies within. Bendern was uncomfortable with this practice but his father continued anyway.

It was about 2-3 weeks ago when they had gotten to his grandfather’s coffin and opened it to find the old man was undecayed. It had been about a year and he looked the same, there were even scratches on the inside of the coffin. The local priest had a traveling brother come in and looked over the body, declaring it to be a nosferatu, a walking dead. He performed a ceremony and had the head cut off, some sort of blessed bread put in the head’s mouth, a stake driven into the heart, and the head replaced in the grandfather’s hands in his lap. The body was declared “at rest” and that was that. The grandfather’s heirloom helm, brooch, sword, and shield were then taken, the coffin sealed up, replaced in the tomb, and over the next couple of days the items were sold.

Things were fine until the person who bought the helm, a Master Potterson, was discovered a few days ago in his workshop with his head cut off, bread in his mouth, and a stake in his heart. And the helm was missing. Bendern’s father was terrified that the other 3 buyers of his grandfather’s heirlooms would learn of what happened and discover that the grandfather might have been an undead – seeking his lost treasures. Frozen with indecision, Bendern took it upon himself to ride to where the heroes were here in Eider, and ask them for their help. He is willing to offer 150 crowns up front, 150 crowns on completion, and should the group reclaim any of the heirlooms the right to keep one of them – except for the sword. The party haggled for the potential of 2 of them and the nobleman agreed.

Then said he would meet them at 11 tomorrow morning outside the Sunken Boardwalk for the trip back to Broken Hills and Soren showed him out.