I've played in games where travel from one place to another is just a few sentences and I've played in games where the entire night is a slog fest where the DM is rolling rolling rolling behind his screen to check for what type of birds are keeping us up at night and the quantity of the horse droppings on the road.
I like a mix - brush past the generic junk and slow down on the interesting parts. I have gone back and forth over the last 3 decades over weather in my games - and sometimes I had a tendency to forget about it.
In this game I was reminded early on (especially with a druid in the group) to reflect it in the game and have been pretty true on checking. Simple roll: 1-3 Sunny, 4-6 cloudy, 7-9 precipitation, 10 Special weather. And I also do a temp check: Winter is 30, spring/fall is 55, summer is 80 - modified by a roll on the D6: 1 is -15, 2 is -10, 3-4 is within 5 of normal, 5 is +10, 6 is +15 degrees. Its short, sweet, and simple and I can play or modify the results as needed.
During the game I had rolled swiftly during the party's trek (which is normally 3 days by cart/wagon/caravan) and immediately rolled a 10. It's winter. So I went with Blizzard. A short roll on a couple of d10's had 19" of snow due to fall. And every day's weather check (5 more days!) after that was either sunny and bitterly cold, or more damned snow!
Except for the day the temp rose to about 35 and it was sleet and freezing rain - on 2 plus feet of accumulated snow.
Sometimes the weather witch (inside joke) affects the gaming group as much as it affects the real world.
Write up follows:
On the morning of the 5th of Deathmonth the party was gathered at the common room of the Adventurer's Guild, discussing not only the upcoming assault against T'Nagrath the Forest Troll at Fengarth's Tower, but also our return to Dargan's Folley and the dangers we would be facing there.
Fabambus grew quite animated at the table, questioning the group's acumen and paucity concerning the cheap way we resolved to take care of the Forest Troll. Foregoing a Lightning Bolt spell in favor of a Shocking Grasp just seemed ludicrous. The gnome just did not feel it was safe or prudent and suggested that we go to the local sage and discuss the matter with him. Coruth'tae was loathe to shell out the sage's fee (since we had talked to him over a month earlier) and opted instead to go to the library in order to find some information there – and Detheron was going to join him, but to instead learn about gnolls and their skills and weaknesses since we would be encountering them again soon.
Hours passed and the party spent much time talking and reading and checking – but it was Fabambus who ended up discovering the same crucial bit of information that the party had already learned before but had forgotten – although Forest Trolls are weak against electrical discharges, even falling fatal to them – it would take a concentrated electrical current aimed at the beast's heart to slay it.
A single electrical blast of some magnitude.
Most likely beyond that of a single Shocking Grasp spell.
So now the group had to think, what to do next? We could buy one, but it would cost 1,000 crowns and the party began piling their monies together – having just enough to pay for a scroll. After that there were some small issues to wrap up but it was already after 3 so leaving town today was frowned upon and we made plans to leave tomorrow on the 6th.
We slept well but the sky was grey and clouds low and the snow we expected began to fall after we left Cymbarton. As we traveled on it grew worse and there was talk of turning back to wait it out – but we instead sheltered at some trees for a spell. When enough time had passed and the accumulating snow showed no sign of letting up, we opted to press on to Ponyboro. Normally Ponyboro is a day and a half from Cymbarton by caravan/wagon and we anticipated some delay.
The storm grew worse and we rested after the sun had set, eating what food we had and stoking a fire to keep us and our mounts warm. The night passed and the following day there was now 2 feet of snow on the ground. Happy that we had the skis on the wagon, we pressed on – fighting through the drifts through muscle and straining effort. Endurance spells were doled out to help stave off the worst of the cold. Another inch of flurries fell but we stayed the course. We rested that night (the 8th) already past the point when we should be at Ponyboro. Some strange calls and screeches were heard in the night sky but nothing came of it.
The next morning met us with biting cold and 15 degree temperatures, and wind gusts up to 30 mph that blew the snow into large 3 and 4' drifts. Endurance spells were renewed and the mounts were treated carefully as we made our way southwest. It was a miserable trip and the sun was beginning to set when we came over the low hills and saw Ponyboro at long last. We made sure our horses were stabled and Fabambus was impressed with the Rampant Griffon – suggesting strongly that we stay there. Chuckle.
Rooms were gotten along with hot meals and strong drink. And while the group was bedding down, Karis wanted to go to the Silverbough Demesne to talk to the lord about getting back our cart and two mountain ponies that had gone with the kobold women Ilva, Hrundi, and Bara when they came here. Some of the party told him to let it go, but the templar wanted to get them back. Coruth'tae offered to go with him and they went off to the Silverbough's.
They met with Lord Healy and his adjunct Steward Thanis – the two of them willing to entertain the half-ogre and grey elf. The Sundered Chains were spoken of highly and looked on with some thanks for their efforts in exposing the Lycos Suns and stopping the theft of the children some months ago. Plus the appearance of the kobold women, the letters from Sir Walter and the respect shown by Lord Daernhorse all paved the way for a smooth meeting.
It went well enough but the half elven lord and the steward informed the group that the ponies and cart had been gifted to the Silverbough Demesne by Lord Daernhorse to help pay for the family in housing the kobolds and employing them – especially since they lost willing tenants who refused to live and work near them. So there was going to be no return of the ponies or cart – the group didn't own them. Coruth'tae and Karis tried a bit harder but the Silverbough's weren't really inclined to budge and suggested that they could take it up with Lord Daernhorse if they wanted to. Figuring out the truth of it, they got the hint and left after thanking them and went back to the Rampant Griffin to sleep.
The next day was the 9th and it was 30 degrees and had low clouds – grey and heavy. More snow coming. Do they stay in Ponyboro or take their chances? The party went back and forth on it (Fabambus and Detheron opting to stay, Karis and Coruth'tae opting to go, Gwyn willing to stay if Karis paid his bar bill) but decided to chance the road.
We went on but with the large drifts and difficult travels lost the road a few times, Detheron doing all he could to keep us heading on. Endurance spells were given out again and we rode on – until MORE snow fell! Miserable and cold and surly, there was little conversation that night over the cold rations. In fact as far as firewood was concerned, they found little of it – Detheron asking Frey for the ability to stretch out the life and longevity of the burning fire.
The next day was just cold. Biting and 10 degrees. The Dusty Mountains rose on our right and the foothills dropped to our left as we moved on slowly. Our food stores were getting low and it only served to aggravate the party more. There was a passing shadow and we beheld a draconic figure fly overhead, 40' wing span and long waving tail. Wyvern. It gave the group a single look and then flew off. Lovely.
There was no firewood to be found that night and the party was treated to a falling rain. Cold sleeting rain. It soaked into our clothes and our bedrolls and made the road for the next day a disgusting mess. Coruth'tae and one of the horses were growing ill on the next day and after some time Detheron removed disease on both of them. We were so tired. And so cold. And so wet. And we just wanted to get home. And it was the 3rd day of travel and almost twice as long as needed to get home. The wyvern came back, dipping lower, and giving the group two passes before flying off.
We grew desperate and we grew sloppy. As we were riding in the fading dusk and pressing on, Detheron lost sight of the road and control of the team. They began to slide off the road to the left, a 50 degree slope over 200' down. The party jumped off but the druid stayed, hands wrapped around the reins as he ached to turn the horses back from the sliding slope. Karis tried to cut him free but couldn't get a grip and the 4 horses, wagon, and Detheron rode over the side of the cliff.
The two lead horses were twisted and over run, legs breaking and whinnying screams filling the air. The wagon picked up speed and the traces snapped, the driving yoke spearing another horse as the entire wagon lifted and ran over the tumbling steeds. Detheron tried to ride the sleigh down the hill but as it lost control and began to flip wildly, he jumped free. The buckboard slammed into his neck and back and he cart wheeled down the rest of the hill, his belongings flying wildly free until he came to a pain filled stop amidst the wreckage.
The sun was setting and the group did not have enough rope to get down and help. Light was fading fast and was there a wyvern nearby? Detheron could not climb back up the hill and there were horses dead and dying halfway down.
It was decided at long last that Karis would take his and Gwyn's mining pick, sit on his shield, and ride it down to the horse, stopping there to put the animals out of their misery if it was obvious that he couldn't save or heal them. He did so, ending the animals' pain until continuing the slide to the bottom. Once there he helped Detheron get himself healed and the two of them went through the wreckage of the wagon, salvaging what they could. Then it was a climb up the hill to Detheron's spilled backpack where they looked for all he had carried – finding most of it, a few items lost forever in the snow.
With no light and sleeting rain still falling, it was time to finish the climb back to the other party members. Karis hacked his way up the icy slop with the two picks, Detheron used a Spider Climb spell to facilitate it. Once together we slogged on slow and cold and hungry to the gates of Orihalcus.
We checked in and went to our home where we saw the repairs had been done. We changed out of our cold and wet clothes and had nothing to eat in the house – opting to go to the Blue and Dancing Minepick where we would sit with Fabambus and talk. But the gnome was very dissatisfied with the party. He felt they were foolish and reckless, not enough sense to take care of themselves. Anyone who would be with them would be at risk and most likely not come back. And he did not want to have anything to do with them or their adventure or anything. He took his brandy and went up to his room and the party was stunned.
Gwyn and Detheron understood the gnome's frustration and there was talk – we had lost our way, our edge, since we had taken down the Lycos Suns. Something about our party was no longer as tight and capable as it used to be. And the gnome could see this. Karis and Coruth'tae offered to go talk to Fabambus and try to convince him to come with them tomorrow.
They were less than diplomatic in their conversation and the gnome was unmoved and wanted nothing to do with them. They left disgusted and went back home telling the druid and the dwarf that they would do it without the gnome. Meanwhile Sheriff Phozarn had shown up and the party had agreed that they would be leaving on the morning after tomorrow.
Plans were changed to leave on the morrow and not bring the Sheriff who Karis felt would try to attack him while outside the jurisdiction of the city. We slept and the next day Detheron spoke more about Fabambus and what the knight and illusionist had said to him – unhappy with their efforts. Not once did they apologize. They were arrogant and unyielding. He offered to go talk, taking Gwyn with him.
Fabambus was willing to listen and was moved by the conversation and the heartfelt apology. They spoke at length and the gnome agreed to go with the party on two caveats: 1) the party would have to listen to his ideas instead of just brushing them off (he had been an adventuring party leader for 2 years without a single death or mishap) and 2) he would get first dibs on any magical item they found while at the tower. Anything. Detheron and Gwyn agreed and the gnome got his stuff ready.
Upon explaining their efforts to the other two, there was much anger – from Coruth'tae. Expecting to find the Staff of Power at some point, he didn't want the gnome to come. There was much talking and eventually Fabambus showed up and the deal was unchangeable – take it or leave it. We needed him more than he needed us – and we agreed.
And that's where we left it. It is Deathmonth the 12th about 10:00 and we had snowshoes and were on our way to the lift to start the trek to Fengarth's Tower (4 hours overland normally).
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Meet 54, Adv 7, 1/17/09
Penny wise, Dollar foolish.
Yeah, sometimes the trip into the Deepdelve of Doom doesn't net the party a pile of coins thick enough to gag a dragon, and other times there are taxes, guild dues, training costs, armor and weapon upkeep, and reoutfitting costs to contend with that suck the players' coffers down. But when they party gets first hand knowledge of how to handle something and they decide on their own to ignore the single foremost clue on how to handle an issue - all for saving a pile of coins - you just know that it is not going to go over well.
They have faced off against T'Nagrath 3 times now. They know WHAT they have to do to kill him. But when faced with the daunting figure of 1,000 crowns, they opted to forego the Lightning Bolt spell and instead go for Shocking Grasp. The spell that does 1d8 + caster's level in damage. Forest trolls regenerate 20 hp/round, or only 1 hp/round from electricty. If taken down to below -10, they remain dormant for 2 hours until spontaneously regenerating around even the ashes of their burned up heart. Only a single slaying bolt of electricity into their chest can slay them. Read the operative word: Single. One. So even if they get him down to 0 HP and he passes out and they chop him into hamburger they need to do 10 hp of damage to the heart, and the 4th level mage casting Shocking Grasp is going to do 4 + random 1-8 or 5-12 hp of damage with a single bolt.
That means there is a 5/8 chance that they won't kill the troll. Even if they fire TWO Shocking Grasp's into the beast's heart - since all the texts they read and the sages they paid did say not only is electricty debilitating to these breed of trolls, but a single bolt of electricity would be needed to finish it off.
Of course, who is it that remembers this important detail? The player who was handling Zoltan. You know Zoltan? The dead thief? So there will be a player at the table with his new gnome character who is going to do his best not to metagame and know in the back of his mind - this is not going to go over well. :)
I cannot wait to see how this fiasco plays out on Saturday. ;) I am anticipating another verse in the "Assault on Fengarth's Tower" to be added to our merry song. Something like Brave Sir Robin's diddy from Monty Python's Holy Grail.
Write up follows:
It was after midnight and dozens…hundreds of townspeople arrived to help put out the fire that was consuming the two homes next to the party’s place. Buckets were drawn from the South Cistern and handed one after the other to the fires, eventually dousing them. Sir Walter and his own staff arrived on hand, helping as well. The guards spoke of their firsthand account of T’Nagrath’s attack and the group’s efforts in stopping it. Even Adeptus Bjorn showed but he stayed long enough to mutter, “I warned you all,” before departing.
It wasn’t until after 2 AM when the group got back to sleep – and that was only when they tacked up tarps from the yard over the busted window in the living room and the hole in the wall in the kitchen. The door had been broken in and was held on by a single hinge. There was no safe way to get up to sleep on the 2nd floor in our rooms so we camped out on the lower floor after stoking the fireplace and getting somewhat warm.
We awoke the next day because it was cold and noisy, not because we were rested. Groggy and tired, we hoisted Coruth’tae upstairs to go to Karis’ room where a rolled up rope ladder was stored. Fastening it to a secure part of the 2nd floor landing, he pushed it over the rail and the group tentatively went to their rooms and got their gear and what bits of value they wanted to take. From there it was a trip to the Blue and Dancing Minepick to get some breakfast.
While there they talked about what was going to happen next? The house needed to be fixed, as the cold air and weather was blowing through it. There was the unfortunate deaths of the 16 civilians slain by the errant Blessed Bolt of Thor (which the party was NOT going to claim responsibility on), as well as, according to the townsfolk, 5 guards killed and 3 more badly wounded. Killing T’Nagrath was going to be priority one. But we no longer had a Blessed Bolt of Thor – and electricity is needed to slay a Forest Troll with finality. A trip back to Cymbarton and the Mage’s District was in order.
We went from here to Slaine’s Manorhouse where we met with the Orihalcan Nobleman and half of his advisory council. There was thanks given back and forth, but the crux of the matter was Sir Walter wanted to commission the party as an adventuring group to kill the Troll. Some haggling occurred and the group settled on 1000 crowns and Sir Walter pays to have our house fixed. Sheriff Phozarn wanted to be a part of the expedition to slay the troll and there was some tension between him and Karis, but the others in the group decided it would be better to have a skilled swordsman with us to help take the troll down.
Returning home we outfitted ourselves, gathered food and drink for the horses, and planned a trip to Cymbarton to leave that very afternoon. We discussed plans and all agreed that we would go back to Fengarth’s Tower where we would kill the troll and NOTHING else! No exploring the tower, no treasure gathering – nothing. Didn’t want to have Sheriff Phozarn to be a part of anything else and we would take the Sheriff back as proof to the others that we took care of the troll and the matter is complete.
Sir Walter gave us half up front and according to Coruth’tae and Fabambus a Lightning Bolt scroll would be close to 1,000 crowns under normal circumstances – a kingly sum that we frankly did not have. So other ideas were thought on and we decided that originally Evian and her Shocking Grasp spell had been a good lower level deterrent to the troll – we should look into getting one of those.
We passed through Ponyboro where we stayed at the Rampant Griffon. A check up on the kobold women revealed that Lord Daernhorse had no place for them on his Demesne, but the Silverbough’s were happy to take them in. Currently they have a small place near the manorhouse and a plot that they work. They were happy to see the group but we spent little time with them.
Lord Ulric Wolverton paid the group a visit, asking if they had heard anything about his erstwhile son, Djohrgahd. He did request that when the time came and they did face him and defeat him, that the group would be decent enough to bring the body back home so he can bury him on the family plot.
We left from here and travelled to Cymbarton. Listened to the rules (no bows or xbows strung in town – weapons must remain sheathed – duels in public forbidden) and then went to the Adventuring Guild. There were some things to be done in town and the party discussed them at length before splitting up to take care of them. Things such as – getting a copy of Shocking Grasp and having it scribed in Coruth’tae’s spell book, buying the necessary raw materials to make our own alchemist lab, getting some of our esoteric and magical items identified, visiting the wheelwright to have sleight skids made for our wagon, and few other personal destinations.
From here we planned to leave Cymbarton and travel back to Orihalcus – should be back in town around the 8th. There has been sporadic snowfall so fall – with accumulation hovering around 6-8 inches accounting for new snow and current melt. But the group has suspicions that it won’t be like this for much longer. Eventually the trade roads do become impassable so we have to make it back to Orihalcus, take care of the troll at Fengarth’s, and then if we are hoping to go to Dargan’s one last time – would have to do it soon.
Yeah, sometimes the trip into the Deepdelve of Doom doesn't net the party a pile of coins thick enough to gag a dragon, and other times there are taxes, guild dues, training costs, armor and weapon upkeep, and reoutfitting costs to contend with that suck the players' coffers down. But when they party gets first hand knowledge of how to handle something and they decide on their own to ignore the single foremost clue on how to handle an issue - all for saving a pile of coins - you just know that it is not going to go over well.
They have faced off against T'Nagrath 3 times now. They know WHAT they have to do to kill him. But when faced with the daunting figure of 1,000 crowns, they opted to forego the Lightning Bolt spell and instead go for Shocking Grasp. The spell that does 1d8 + caster's level in damage. Forest trolls regenerate 20 hp/round, or only 1 hp/round from electricty. If taken down to below -10, they remain dormant for 2 hours until spontaneously regenerating around even the ashes of their burned up heart. Only a single slaying bolt of electricity into their chest can slay them. Read the operative word: Single. One. So even if they get him down to 0 HP and he passes out and they chop him into hamburger they need to do 10 hp of damage to the heart, and the 4th level mage casting Shocking Grasp is going to do 4 + random 1-8 or 5-12 hp of damage with a single bolt.
That means there is a 5/8 chance that they won't kill the troll. Even if they fire TWO Shocking Grasp's into the beast's heart - since all the texts they read and the sages they paid did say not only is electricty debilitating to these breed of trolls, but a single bolt of electricity would be needed to finish it off.
Of course, who is it that remembers this important detail? The player who was handling Zoltan. You know Zoltan? The dead thief? So there will be a player at the table with his new gnome character who is going to do his best not to metagame and know in the back of his mind - this is not going to go over well. :)
I cannot wait to see how this fiasco plays out on Saturday. ;) I am anticipating another verse in the "Assault on Fengarth's Tower" to be added to our merry song. Something like Brave Sir Robin's diddy from Monty Python's Holy Grail.
Write up follows:
It was after midnight and dozens…hundreds of townspeople arrived to help put out the fire that was consuming the two homes next to the party’s place. Buckets were drawn from the South Cistern and handed one after the other to the fires, eventually dousing them. Sir Walter and his own staff arrived on hand, helping as well. The guards spoke of their firsthand account of T’Nagrath’s attack and the group’s efforts in stopping it. Even Adeptus Bjorn showed but he stayed long enough to mutter, “I warned you all,” before departing.
It wasn’t until after 2 AM when the group got back to sleep – and that was only when they tacked up tarps from the yard over the busted window in the living room and the hole in the wall in the kitchen. The door had been broken in and was held on by a single hinge. There was no safe way to get up to sleep on the 2nd floor in our rooms so we camped out on the lower floor after stoking the fireplace and getting somewhat warm.
We awoke the next day because it was cold and noisy, not because we were rested. Groggy and tired, we hoisted Coruth’tae upstairs to go to Karis’ room where a rolled up rope ladder was stored. Fastening it to a secure part of the 2nd floor landing, he pushed it over the rail and the group tentatively went to their rooms and got their gear and what bits of value they wanted to take. From there it was a trip to the Blue and Dancing Minepick to get some breakfast.
While there they talked about what was going to happen next? The house needed to be fixed, as the cold air and weather was blowing through it. There was the unfortunate deaths of the 16 civilians slain by the errant Blessed Bolt of Thor (which the party was NOT going to claim responsibility on), as well as, according to the townsfolk, 5 guards killed and 3 more badly wounded. Killing T’Nagrath was going to be priority one. But we no longer had a Blessed Bolt of Thor – and electricity is needed to slay a Forest Troll with finality. A trip back to Cymbarton and the Mage’s District was in order.
We went from here to Slaine’s Manorhouse where we met with the Orihalcan Nobleman and half of his advisory council. There was thanks given back and forth, but the crux of the matter was Sir Walter wanted to commission the party as an adventuring group to kill the Troll. Some haggling occurred and the group settled on 1000 crowns and Sir Walter pays to have our house fixed. Sheriff Phozarn wanted to be a part of the expedition to slay the troll and there was some tension between him and Karis, but the others in the group decided it would be better to have a skilled swordsman with us to help take the troll down.
Returning home we outfitted ourselves, gathered food and drink for the horses, and planned a trip to Cymbarton to leave that very afternoon. We discussed plans and all agreed that we would go back to Fengarth’s Tower where we would kill the troll and NOTHING else! No exploring the tower, no treasure gathering – nothing. Didn’t want to have Sheriff Phozarn to be a part of anything else and we would take the Sheriff back as proof to the others that we took care of the troll and the matter is complete.
Sir Walter gave us half up front and according to Coruth’tae and Fabambus a Lightning Bolt scroll would be close to 1,000 crowns under normal circumstances – a kingly sum that we frankly did not have. So other ideas were thought on and we decided that originally Evian and her Shocking Grasp spell had been a good lower level deterrent to the troll – we should look into getting one of those.
We passed through Ponyboro where we stayed at the Rampant Griffon. A check up on the kobold women revealed that Lord Daernhorse had no place for them on his Demesne, but the Silverbough’s were happy to take them in. Currently they have a small place near the manorhouse and a plot that they work. They were happy to see the group but we spent little time with them.
Lord Ulric Wolverton paid the group a visit, asking if they had heard anything about his erstwhile son, Djohrgahd. He did request that when the time came and they did face him and defeat him, that the group would be decent enough to bring the body back home so he can bury him on the family plot.
We left from here and travelled to Cymbarton. Listened to the rules (no bows or xbows strung in town – weapons must remain sheathed – duels in public forbidden) and then went to the Adventuring Guild. There were some things to be done in town and the party discussed them at length before splitting up to take care of them. Things such as – getting a copy of Shocking Grasp and having it scribed in Coruth’tae’s spell book, buying the necessary raw materials to make our own alchemist lab, getting some of our esoteric and magical items identified, visiting the wheelwright to have sleight skids made for our wagon, and few other personal destinations.
From here we planned to leave Cymbarton and travel back to Orihalcus – should be back in town around the 8th. There has been sporadic snowfall so fall – with accumulation hovering around 6-8 inches accounting for new snow and current melt. But the group has suspicions that it won’t be like this for much longer. Eventually the trade roads do become impassable so we have to make it back to Orihalcus, take care of the troll at Fengarth’s, and then if we are hoping to go to Dargan’s one last time – would have to do it soon.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Meet 53, Adv 7, 1/10/09
When I write up scenarios to happen in the "future" of the game, I don't try to pigeon hole them into the lulls or gaps in the action - instead making them occur when they would. Life isn't scripted and sometimes there are times when we are bombarded with things one after another - the same goes for the characters.
I had made sure that they knew about the Moon Portal MONTHS ago (in game) and the limitations of it (7 minutes, up to 7 miles away, during the start of the full moon) - so there was no gapping in time I could have fudged. In the game world I use, I made the moon's cycle 30 days, the same time as the calender - 12 months, 360 days total year. So the Full Moon occurs every month at midnight on the 1st day of the month.
And we were waiting for the group to be together - Coruth'tae training in Cymbarton, 3 days away solid by fast moving caravan - he wrapped up his training on the 26th, left on the morning of the 27th - and got back to Orihalcus on the 30th at 2 in the afternoon. And when the math worked out I was laughing inside because they were talking about going to "take care of that damned troll once and for all" on the following morning - and I knew the troll was going to raid the town at midnight of the 1st!
So they faced T'Nagrath the Forest Troll - clad in their underwear and each person sporting 2 items only. And they thought he was just showing up to harvest living meat and rain havoc - but when he was bee-lining for THEIR house and they realized that he was being led - they all freaked out, knowing it was for the charm they took from the tower. And they did all they could to slow him down - 7 minutes was a hard line in time that the troll could not cross. Killing him would have been nice, but without armor or proper preparation - they were willing to settle for "seriously impede". And that they did.
Write up follows:
Karis went home to break the news to the kobold women after taking a brief detour to the stables to get the cart and two ponies ready. The other two members went off to the Blue and Dancing Minepick Inn to meet with Fabambus and better explain themselves to the gnome and learn about him and his skillset and abilities.
The kobolds were upset and didn’t want to go. Karis explained to them the order of command and the difficult position that they and their actions have put him and the rest of the Sundered Chains in. There was sadness and Ilva admitted that she didn’t want to be the cause of trouble. Eventual acceptance was achieved and they packed up their belongings getting themselves ready to go. Karis informed them that they would be staying with Lord Daernhorse and to treat him with what respect that they would the party. He told them they would be safe and with the bounty being established here, return to Orihalcus would be deadly for them.
He went with them to the stablery and with both his own letter to Lord Daernhorse and Sir Walter’s, there was some hugs goodbye and the three women left. From there, he went off to the Blue and Dancing Minepick to meet up with the rest of the party.
Detheron and Gwyn were sitting with Fabambus Rattletrap, the loquacious gnome waxing long and interestingly about his skills, the past adventuring party he had, some of the things he had done, artifacts recovered, and his wife Willamina. His former group had disbanded over 2 years ago and he has been home during that time – but the desire to further his own research on some magical theorem had him strapping back on his backpack and looking for a group searching for skilled help.
He spoke of Coruth’tae and the two of them and their similar yet decidedly different skills – and that the grey elf would not be long behind him supposedly wrapping up a few loose ends. Detheron was not…rude…this time, but he was definitely at odds with the gnome, unsure of what to make of the strange little fellow. Gwyn liked him. And then Karis came and the interview continued, with the half-ogre giving the green light and thumbs up.
The party talked about Dargan’s Folly and their soon to be eventual return, but for now they were going to be planning a trip to Fengarth’s Tower to take care of T’Nagrath the Forest Troll once and for all, and would do it after Coruth’tae came home. There were some purchases made around town and some restocking of supplies with repairs made to weaponry and armor where needed.
As for Coruth’tae, he had sold one of the jewelry pieces (the bracelet), but when faced with the prospect of selling the sapphire ring, he was told that it was a part of a set – as dwarven rings like this are made in matched pairs. He was offered 1250 for the one ring, but if he had the 2nd one, the jeweler would be willing to go so far as over 3000 crowns for the matched set. Coruth’tae knew the 2nd ring was magical, the dweomercraft upon it according to the guild diviners was one of protection and bolstering (+1 to AC and all saves) but to sell the matched set to the jeweler (who wouldn’t care about the enchantment – looking at it as ancillary) might not be in the party’s best interest. So he didn’t sell it, waiting to get back to the group and asking them their opinion on the matter.
As for the last 2 days he had in town, he spent it gambling. And when all was said and done, the house had taken the fine grey elf for almost 60 crowns. At least he tried!
It was almost 4 days by caravan before he arrived home, raining and soggy cold Spiritmonth the 30th about 2 in the afternoon. Money was returned to the group, split up, and a discussion followed concerning the magical ring and possibly selling it or keeping it and not getting the mark up value for the matched set. Coruth’tae was looking to keep it himself and Detheron donated it to him, but then a verbal altercation followed on the cost for getting the ring identified and who should pay for it and then cost of healing and before you knew it, druid and illusionist were bickering. It ended eventually but because the half-ogre more or less said to end it – not because it was resolved.
We talked about going to go to Fengarth’s Tower and we have an ace in the hole – Blessed bolt of Thor! The Forest troll needs to be slain by lightning – and what better? We were going to get a good night’s sleep and then visit Sir Walter and ask for dispensation to go and visit the tower and take care of the troll threat. We went to the Blue and Dancing Minepick and ate (already missing the kobold women and their skill at cooking and keeping the house in good repair), bid Fabambus good night and went home to sleep.
At the stroke of midnight, when the moon was at its fullest, a shaft of radiant moonlight struck town square and with a horrible blast and concussion of expanding air, T’Nagrath the troll portalled in with a roar of glee and shouts of joy. The militia on duty began crying “Troll! Troll! Too arms!!!” Crossbows clattered and pikes and spears were pressed but the 11’ tall beast turned aside what blows he could and hacked off arms from two of those arrayed against him.
With the alarm bells clanging the group awoke and hearing the not too distant sounds of battle, cries of “troll!” and T’Nagrath’s distinctive laugh, they ran for the door wearing only undergarments – a cold rain falling. Gwyn grabbed his crossbow and quiver of bolts, Detheron took Heimdall’s Bulwark and his holy symbol, Coruth’tae his spell component pouch and wand, and Karis his shield and sword. Fabambus, staying elsewhere opted to merely look out the window. J
The party hit the streets running, Coruth’tae and Detheron realizing that the troll must be using the Moon Portal as spoken about by Adeptus Bjorn. It will open a single portal up to 7 miles distance for a period of 7 minutes at the height of the full moon at the end of which time it will bring whoever went through it back with whatever they are carrying/holding. And the clock was already passing.
T’Nagrath was holding a darkwood staff and slammed the butt of it into the ground, launching a fireball from the end of it to crack under the feet of a 3 count of guards, immolating 2 of them and blasting the third skyward. More crossbows fired and hit the troll, its amazing regenerative powers keeping it moving and relatively unscathed. The group fanned out, Karis taking point as we threw AC to the wind and tried to close with the running troll – the same troll running in the dark street in our direction, the staff it was holding seeming to pull it forward.
A guard tried to intercept but T’Nagrath tore at the screaming man, ripping his arm free and laughing aloud. More missile weapon fired and screams for the Sheriff was growing. Townsfolk were huddling behind shutters and other guards were charging up the street from the main gates. And then we were there. Karis ran to intercept but the troll whistled past, slamming at his out stretched arm and ripping the underside of it wide open. And then it was past, the staff definitely pulling it along.
Detheron struggled to heal Karis and Coruth’tae summoned the illusion of a spinning saw blade again – the same one that felled the troll last time. T’Nagrath didn’t recognize the party seemingly during all this until that blade appeared than it roared “YOU!” and detoured in the grey elf’s direction. Karis slammed his weapon at the troll’s back, slowing it down and Gwyn used some of the magical impacting bolts we had to slow the troll down and knock him to his knees.
Snarling in anger, T’Nagrath forced himself to his feet and charged on PAST the group, angling for…their HOUSE!! He was racing with the staff before him – bent on reaching something. Detheron was worried that he was planning on blowing it up so he “quenched” the staff – and Coruth’tae who had seen the staff real up close announced it was a staff of power, capable of hurling fireballs and other spells – but can also be used to focus location spells.
The troll was “homing” in on the charm we had taken from it the last time we faced it – the same charm that was at our house and in Coruth’tae’s room. Crap. Hoping to stop the troll, Coruth’tae ran at it as fast as possible and using his own body, dove between the troll’s legs and tried to trip it! He was kicked and stomped on and although the troll didn’t fall, it was slowed and lost more precious time – time it NEEDED to get its goal!
Detheron caused a sleet storm to appear just in front of T’Nagrath between it and our house – a 40’ wide storm of driving freezing ice and rain. The troll was cursing and we assume it fell but could not see it in the swirling storm. Karis snarled and ran in and Gwyn charged closer. We guessed time was almost up – maybe 2 minutes left. And from the sounds it was inside our house now. Karis made a decision – running along the side of the storm he charged the side window and shield held in front of him leapt through the window, shattering the closed shutters and falling to the floor. The troll was just on the inside of the door and racing for the stairs.
Gwyn followed Karis’ charge and came through in better shape, seeing T’Nagrath making his way up the bottom stairs and making a real fast decision.
In our own home, he loaded up a Blessed Bolt of Thor, took aim at the troll 25’ feet away, and fired.
The power build echoed behind him and sparks shot down his arm, into the crossbow, blowing it to splinters and a blast of lighting screamed away – burning T’Nagrath’s legs to charred ruin as he LEAPT up the stairs to avoid a direct hit (made his save). The stroke of lightning tore through the stairs disintegrating the bottom 4, scored across the floor, consumed two of the main support beams, burned and set the house interior on fire, blew through the wall, across the space to the next home, arced throughout the home slaying all the people who lived there (3 adults, 4 children), slammed through the opposite wall and into a third home where it arced along killing most of those who lived there (6 adults, 3 children) before the roaring stroke of god-borne lightning came to an end.
T’Nagrath was mortally wounded and was not going to make his goal. He pointed his staff at the dwarf and half-ogre and tried to fireball them, but nothing happened! The fireball effects had been quenched! So angry it instead switched to lightning bolt and it arced out – hitting the dwarf glancingly but striking the half-ogre dead on – tossing Karis back OUT the window and into the alleyway!
Coruth’tae had dared to run through the sleet storm and saw the burning devastation in the house and the troll on the second floor. He screamed to Gwyn to “Stop him! Get the staff!!” With the clock running down to seconds Gwyn pulled out a single sharp edged crossbow bolt and ran for the crumbling stairs. He LEAPT! Clearing the missing bottom 4 and scrambled up the collapsing others fast as possible and then tackled the troll, one hand on the staff and pulling while his right hand slashed down at the braided cord wrapped around the staff and the troll’s wrist.
And he failed to cut it!
T’Nagrath became illuminated in some radiant moon light and grabbed the dwarf by the shoulder, growling, “I didn’t get my charm, but at least I’ll get a consolation prize!” And as the Moon Portal began to teleport the troll back to Fengarth’s Tower, Gwyn felt himself being taken along! He pulled and yanked and slashed with the crossbow bolt and broke free just before T’Nagrath “jumped” away with a bellowing cry of frustration.
Detheron used a fast Quench spell on our house, deadening the flames that were eating it, but the rest of the town had gathered together a bucket brigade to help try and put out the other two homes, Fabambus adding his own efforts to it.
And that’s where this game ended! At 12:08 PM on Deathmonth the 1st – 1 minute after T’Nagrath Moon Portalled away.
I had made sure that they knew about the Moon Portal MONTHS ago (in game) and the limitations of it (7 minutes, up to 7 miles away, during the start of the full moon) - so there was no gapping in time I could have fudged. In the game world I use, I made the moon's cycle 30 days, the same time as the calender - 12 months, 360 days total year. So the Full Moon occurs every month at midnight on the 1st day of the month.
And we were waiting for the group to be together - Coruth'tae training in Cymbarton, 3 days away solid by fast moving caravan - he wrapped up his training on the 26th, left on the morning of the 27th - and got back to Orihalcus on the 30th at 2 in the afternoon. And when the math worked out I was laughing inside because they were talking about going to "take care of that damned troll once and for all" on the following morning - and I knew the troll was going to raid the town at midnight of the 1st!
So they faced T'Nagrath the Forest Troll - clad in their underwear and each person sporting 2 items only. And they thought he was just showing up to harvest living meat and rain havoc - but when he was bee-lining for THEIR house and they realized that he was being led - they all freaked out, knowing it was for the charm they took from the tower. And they did all they could to slow him down - 7 minutes was a hard line in time that the troll could not cross. Killing him would have been nice, but without armor or proper preparation - they were willing to settle for "seriously impede". And that they did.
Write up follows:
Karis went home to break the news to the kobold women after taking a brief detour to the stables to get the cart and two ponies ready. The other two members went off to the Blue and Dancing Minepick Inn to meet with Fabambus and better explain themselves to the gnome and learn about him and his skillset and abilities.
The kobolds were upset and didn’t want to go. Karis explained to them the order of command and the difficult position that they and their actions have put him and the rest of the Sundered Chains in. There was sadness and Ilva admitted that she didn’t want to be the cause of trouble. Eventual acceptance was achieved and they packed up their belongings getting themselves ready to go. Karis informed them that they would be staying with Lord Daernhorse and to treat him with what respect that they would the party. He told them they would be safe and with the bounty being established here, return to Orihalcus would be deadly for them.
He went with them to the stablery and with both his own letter to Lord Daernhorse and Sir Walter’s, there was some hugs goodbye and the three women left. From there, he went off to the Blue and Dancing Minepick to meet up with the rest of the party.
Detheron and Gwyn were sitting with Fabambus Rattletrap, the loquacious gnome waxing long and interestingly about his skills, the past adventuring party he had, some of the things he had done, artifacts recovered, and his wife Willamina. His former group had disbanded over 2 years ago and he has been home during that time – but the desire to further his own research on some magical theorem had him strapping back on his backpack and looking for a group searching for skilled help.
He spoke of Coruth’tae and the two of them and their similar yet decidedly different skills – and that the grey elf would not be long behind him supposedly wrapping up a few loose ends. Detheron was not…rude…this time, but he was definitely at odds with the gnome, unsure of what to make of the strange little fellow. Gwyn liked him. And then Karis came and the interview continued, with the half-ogre giving the green light and thumbs up.
The party talked about Dargan’s Folly and their soon to be eventual return, but for now they were going to be planning a trip to Fengarth’s Tower to take care of T’Nagrath the Forest Troll once and for all, and would do it after Coruth’tae came home. There were some purchases made around town and some restocking of supplies with repairs made to weaponry and armor where needed.
As for Coruth’tae, he had sold one of the jewelry pieces (the bracelet), but when faced with the prospect of selling the sapphire ring, he was told that it was a part of a set – as dwarven rings like this are made in matched pairs. He was offered 1250 for the one ring, but if he had the 2nd one, the jeweler would be willing to go so far as over 3000 crowns for the matched set. Coruth’tae knew the 2nd ring was magical, the dweomercraft upon it according to the guild diviners was one of protection and bolstering (+1 to AC and all saves) but to sell the matched set to the jeweler (who wouldn’t care about the enchantment – looking at it as ancillary) might not be in the party’s best interest. So he didn’t sell it, waiting to get back to the group and asking them their opinion on the matter.
As for the last 2 days he had in town, he spent it gambling. And when all was said and done, the house had taken the fine grey elf for almost 60 crowns. At least he tried!
It was almost 4 days by caravan before he arrived home, raining and soggy cold Spiritmonth the 30th about 2 in the afternoon. Money was returned to the group, split up, and a discussion followed concerning the magical ring and possibly selling it or keeping it and not getting the mark up value for the matched set. Coruth’tae was looking to keep it himself and Detheron donated it to him, but then a verbal altercation followed on the cost for getting the ring identified and who should pay for it and then cost of healing and before you knew it, druid and illusionist were bickering. It ended eventually but because the half-ogre more or less said to end it – not because it was resolved.
We talked about going to go to Fengarth’s Tower and we have an ace in the hole – Blessed bolt of Thor! The Forest troll needs to be slain by lightning – and what better? We were going to get a good night’s sleep and then visit Sir Walter and ask for dispensation to go and visit the tower and take care of the troll threat. We went to the Blue and Dancing Minepick and ate (already missing the kobold women and their skill at cooking and keeping the house in good repair), bid Fabambus good night and went home to sleep.
At the stroke of midnight, when the moon was at its fullest, a shaft of radiant moonlight struck town square and with a horrible blast and concussion of expanding air, T’Nagrath the troll portalled in with a roar of glee and shouts of joy. The militia on duty began crying “Troll! Troll! Too arms!!!” Crossbows clattered and pikes and spears were pressed but the 11’ tall beast turned aside what blows he could and hacked off arms from two of those arrayed against him.
With the alarm bells clanging the group awoke and hearing the not too distant sounds of battle, cries of “troll!” and T’Nagrath’s distinctive laugh, they ran for the door wearing only undergarments – a cold rain falling. Gwyn grabbed his crossbow and quiver of bolts, Detheron took Heimdall’s Bulwark and his holy symbol, Coruth’tae his spell component pouch and wand, and Karis his shield and sword. Fabambus, staying elsewhere opted to merely look out the window. J
The party hit the streets running, Coruth’tae and Detheron realizing that the troll must be using the Moon Portal as spoken about by Adeptus Bjorn. It will open a single portal up to 7 miles distance for a period of 7 minutes at the height of the full moon at the end of which time it will bring whoever went through it back with whatever they are carrying/holding. And the clock was already passing.
T’Nagrath was holding a darkwood staff and slammed the butt of it into the ground, launching a fireball from the end of it to crack under the feet of a 3 count of guards, immolating 2 of them and blasting the third skyward. More crossbows fired and hit the troll, its amazing regenerative powers keeping it moving and relatively unscathed. The group fanned out, Karis taking point as we threw AC to the wind and tried to close with the running troll – the same troll running in the dark street in our direction, the staff it was holding seeming to pull it forward.
A guard tried to intercept but T’Nagrath tore at the screaming man, ripping his arm free and laughing aloud. More missile weapon fired and screams for the Sheriff was growing. Townsfolk were huddling behind shutters and other guards were charging up the street from the main gates. And then we were there. Karis ran to intercept but the troll whistled past, slamming at his out stretched arm and ripping the underside of it wide open. And then it was past, the staff definitely pulling it along.
Detheron struggled to heal Karis and Coruth’tae summoned the illusion of a spinning saw blade again – the same one that felled the troll last time. T’Nagrath didn’t recognize the party seemingly during all this until that blade appeared than it roared “YOU!” and detoured in the grey elf’s direction. Karis slammed his weapon at the troll’s back, slowing it down and Gwyn used some of the magical impacting bolts we had to slow the troll down and knock him to his knees.
Snarling in anger, T’Nagrath forced himself to his feet and charged on PAST the group, angling for…their HOUSE!! He was racing with the staff before him – bent on reaching something. Detheron was worried that he was planning on blowing it up so he “quenched” the staff – and Coruth’tae who had seen the staff real up close announced it was a staff of power, capable of hurling fireballs and other spells – but can also be used to focus location spells.
The troll was “homing” in on the charm we had taken from it the last time we faced it – the same charm that was at our house and in Coruth’tae’s room. Crap. Hoping to stop the troll, Coruth’tae ran at it as fast as possible and using his own body, dove between the troll’s legs and tried to trip it! He was kicked and stomped on and although the troll didn’t fall, it was slowed and lost more precious time – time it NEEDED to get its goal!
Detheron caused a sleet storm to appear just in front of T’Nagrath between it and our house – a 40’ wide storm of driving freezing ice and rain. The troll was cursing and we assume it fell but could not see it in the swirling storm. Karis snarled and ran in and Gwyn charged closer. We guessed time was almost up – maybe 2 minutes left. And from the sounds it was inside our house now. Karis made a decision – running along the side of the storm he charged the side window and shield held in front of him leapt through the window, shattering the closed shutters and falling to the floor. The troll was just on the inside of the door and racing for the stairs.
Gwyn followed Karis’ charge and came through in better shape, seeing T’Nagrath making his way up the bottom stairs and making a real fast decision.
In our own home, he loaded up a Blessed Bolt of Thor, took aim at the troll 25’ feet away, and fired.
The power build echoed behind him and sparks shot down his arm, into the crossbow, blowing it to splinters and a blast of lighting screamed away – burning T’Nagrath’s legs to charred ruin as he LEAPT up the stairs to avoid a direct hit (made his save). The stroke of lightning tore through the stairs disintegrating the bottom 4, scored across the floor, consumed two of the main support beams, burned and set the house interior on fire, blew through the wall, across the space to the next home, arced throughout the home slaying all the people who lived there (3 adults, 4 children), slammed through the opposite wall and into a third home where it arced along killing most of those who lived there (6 adults, 3 children) before the roaring stroke of god-borne lightning came to an end.
T’Nagrath was mortally wounded and was not going to make his goal. He pointed his staff at the dwarf and half-ogre and tried to fireball them, but nothing happened! The fireball effects had been quenched! So angry it instead switched to lightning bolt and it arced out – hitting the dwarf glancingly but striking the half-ogre dead on – tossing Karis back OUT the window and into the alleyway!
Coruth’tae had dared to run through the sleet storm and saw the burning devastation in the house and the troll on the second floor. He screamed to Gwyn to “Stop him! Get the staff!!” With the clock running down to seconds Gwyn pulled out a single sharp edged crossbow bolt and ran for the crumbling stairs. He LEAPT! Clearing the missing bottom 4 and scrambled up the collapsing others fast as possible and then tackled the troll, one hand on the staff and pulling while his right hand slashed down at the braided cord wrapped around the staff and the troll’s wrist.
And he failed to cut it!
T’Nagrath became illuminated in some radiant moon light and grabbed the dwarf by the shoulder, growling, “I didn’t get my charm, but at least I’ll get a consolation prize!” And as the Moon Portal began to teleport the troll back to Fengarth’s Tower, Gwyn felt himself being taken along! He pulled and yanked and slashed with the crossbow bolt and broke free just before T’Nagrath “jumped” away with a bellowing cry of frustration.
Detheron used a fast Quench spell on our house, deadening the flames that were eating it, but the rest of the town had gathered together a bucket brigade to help try and put out the other two homes, Fabambus adding his own efforts to it.
And that’s where this game ended! At 12:08 PM on Deathmonth the 1st – 1 minute after T’Nagrath Moon Portalled away.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Meet 52, Adv 7, 1/3/09
There was a time when I ran almost exclusively town adventures. There is a city in my sandbox called Darkwaters, and the local chatter across the known kingdom is "Adventure oftentimes begins and ends in Darkwaters." Its a big, sprawling, huge, megalopolis with interfaction fighting and intrigue and multiple levels of whatever from top to bottom. Its the type of city where you can go to visit and if you are not careful, wind up down some tenement row of housing with a knife in your ear and someone rummaging around your pouch.
This group is not like that. There is a decided split in the group's interest - ranging between intrigue and story versus going out and whacking stuff with weapons and spells. So some of my nights I find that we cater to some members at the table, and other nights to the others. Since we had spent some 10 plus sessions dungeon crawling, I wanted the party to have some down time, train, sell off some loot, and have some domestic interests capture their attention.
It went over like a lead balloon. Chuckle. Karis and Sheriff Phozarn have learned to despise one another and regardless of what my initial plan was for the party, they have taken control of their destiny and for that I am happy - letting the world be organic around them and their actions. Some little clues I do give (such as the disinterested kobold Ilva and her late night trips out and long delays in returning - only Zoltan noted it, the rest of the party let it go by the wayside), and others I bring up a few times (bugbears constantly around the town, peaceful trading, and their singular immeasurable aid to the greengrocer coalition), and others I just spring out when the mood hits me.
I know that half my party had a lot of fun this night - and when you have 5 or 6 distinct people and personalities around the table, a smart DM realizes that you can't please all of the people all of the time.
Write up follows:
The group rested that night, safe at home but noting the absence of their missing and fallen companions. During the next day, there was a noticeable shift in the guards’ attitude to Karis since we had been here almost a month earlier. They were still a bit standoffish, but had definitely warmed up to him. Except for the Sheriff Phozarn. There was still bad blood between the two of them and it seemed that unless something changed, it would remain as such for some time.
We spent many days going through the dwarven equipment we had taken from the city: jewelry and items of interest. Selling much of it to whoever we could in town. From that, we split up the funds as well as accorded a 10% portion to Sir Walter for the Adventuring Guild. There were two pieces of jewelry that we could not sell in town and Coruth’tae offered to take it with him to Cymbarton to sell there while he was training at the Tower Arcane, bringing the funds home with him at that time.
We had Coruth’tae sign the adventuring charter, and also gave him permission to recruit anyone with either dungeoneering or magical skill while in the city, and then send them back to Orihalcus.
Meanwhile, Detheron and Gwyn spent time training under Solkissa and Marzen Copperworks respectively, achieving 6th level for each of them – bringing our compliment and party to: 1) Karis, half Ogre 4th level Cavalier/2nd level priest to Tyr, 2) Detheron, human 6th level Druid to Frey, 3) Gwynhwyfar, dwarven 6th level Fighter, and 4) Coruth’tae, Grey Elven 4th level Illusionist.
The weather grew colder and the last weeks of autumn were upon us, winter already beginning to grip the land. Karis, being the one individual with some free time, afforded himself and his skills to Sir Walter, burning away more time of his bondsmanship. There was only some work to be done, most of it having already come to a close. So Karis was given to work down at the copper mines, where the slag and dross from the caverns was taken out and then needed to be graded smooth and away from the city’s base. It was hard and menial labor, but it only ate up about 6 hours of his day and his great strength and efforts were appreciated.
After a few weeks, the half-ogre was approached by Sheriff Phozarn who asked for Karis to come with him. Sir Walter had suggested the xenophobic Sheriff approach Karis to help him to smooth over a potential hot spot of activity taking place at the city’s base near the Greengrocer’s Coalition. It seems that the Drywood Bugbear Clan that had been trading peacefully with Orihalcus is looking to winter in some of the Coalition’s dwellings close to the city – and Frau Gail has given them her permission.
Sir Walter thinks it is a good idea but the Sheriff does not, and Karis was asked to come as a representative to help make sure that Altern Lamatous understands the limitations this close to the city and that there would be no issues or bad blood.
The meeting was difficult at best, Sheriff Phozarn openly rude to Karis and disparaging to the bugbear leader. There were many words back and forth and Altern Lamatous was understanding of the rules regarding the city, but mostly he wanted his people to be safe and warm and he and Frau Gail have been engaging in an affair with one another. Admittedly it was a bombshell to hear, and the Altern didn’t seem to grasp the idea of keeping that sort of thing a secret as bugbears are rather open about such issues, but the Sheriff was incensed – and when he approached (or had his men do it) Frau Gail, he was rebuffed and told to mind his own business.
Altern Lamatous did mention that there was another reason – K’Tharkian kobolds had been seen in the area. The Sheriff discounted it, saying that none of his people had seen any such thing, but the bugbear was adamant that there were kobolds out there and that the Sheriff’s men were probably not up to the task of finding them.
Then it was over and Karis and Phozarn went back to the lift where Karis told the Sheriff he was a piece of crap and if you don’t like me, kill me, or leave me alone. Phozarn and the half-ogre squared off but nothing happened and Karis eventually went to Sir Walter and told him what had happened. Slaine and Adeptus Bjorn were having some sort of small party and Karis was told to leave and come back tomorrow.
He arrived home where he was greeted to the kobold women in some sort of confrontation on the floor of the living room, Ilva being sat upon by the other two, hysterically sobbing and her clothes a mess. They all jumped up fast and Ilva ran into her room, slamming the door closed.
While Karis was getting the news from the other two, Detheron and Gwyn came home and the three of them were treated to a load of miserable news.
Ilva was pregnant.
2 months pregnant, the baby due in 3 more. She had apparently met some kobold out in the fields while she was working for the Coalition and he seduced her and she met him half a dozen times and got pregnant. But she remained loyal to the Sundered Chains and when pressed to give up information about Orihalcus or the people or the party, Ilva refused and the other kobold has not come back for 4-5 weeks.
The group decided that this information had to be told to Sir Walter and soon – but the timing of it could not be any worse. Hiding the problem was not an option either, neither was ignoring it. This would be very bad. Kobolds nearby. Phozarn and his men are proven wrong. The kobold women were the party’s responsibility, and one of them was pregnant. What did she tell them? Anything? What?
At this point, the gnome adventurer that Coruth’tae hired in Cymbarton arrived in town and came to present himself to the Sundered Chains. The party was just spot on with being unable to treat a new recruit with respect and in the space of 10 minutes, Fabambus left to go back to the Blue and Dancing Minepick Inn to contemplate the 5 day slow journey he took coming here and the strange group of people he had just met.
The next morning the party went to Sir Walter’s Manorhouse where they went to the befuddled lord. He was obviously in his cups and informed the group that he had just met with Frau Gail, and Sheriff Phozarn, and with Karis’ own report from yesterday, had a good idea on what happened. He liked the party and the bugbears, but the strain of the rule and the expanding city and growing responsibilities was taking its tolls on him. He had a naked blade in his hand and spun it slowly while the party told him about the kobolds and the pregnancy and ALL sorts of wonderful news.
Sir Slaine was adamant that the kobold women were to be removed from the city, immediately. He was contemplating dissolving the party’s bondsmanship and declaring them outlaws as well. He accepted the party “donating” a large pile of coins (300 crowns) to help set up a fund for the bounty that Sir Slaine was going to enact the following day – 10 silver nobles for each pair of kobold ears. The way he explained it, every bounty hunter, ranger, manjake, bushbeater, and bullyblade from here to Seneshia would make their way to Orihalcus bringing trade, coin, and skills to hunt down and root out what K’Tharkian kobolds might be in the area, local or distant.
Our own kobold women would be given one of the party’s carts and a horse, and sent to Ponyboro with a letter from them and Sir Walter – where Lord Artis Daernhorse would find them a place to stay and gainful employment there – safely away from Orihalcus, any bounty hunter, any kobolds in the area, and mostly any temptation to seek them out.
This discussion took some time and Sir Walter asked Gwyn honestly what he thought of his decision, and the pragmatic dwarf replied after eyeing the nobleman’s sword, “To be honest with you Sir, if it was me, I’d have probably killed Karis outright for bringing me this news. No offense Karis.” Chuckle.
We left to make what arrangements were necessary to get the kobold women out of town and when Karis asked Detheron who was going to go right to Solkissa for more training if he wanted to say goodbye to them, the druid sneered and said, “I don’t give a shit. Fuck them.” You can tell he was real torn up over the entire affair (sarcasm).
And we ended it here. It’s Spirit month the 26th and we are going to get the kobold women geared up and safely away, meet with Fabambus properly and talk to the gnome about the group and where we were going to go next (There was talk of back to Fengarth’s Tower as well as Dargan’s Folley), possibly recruit in town people to come back to Dargan’s Folley to help us clear it better, and see what we can do about getting geared up for the excursion. Coruth’tae is due back in 2-3 days and he should have sold the two pieces of jewelry in Cymbarton, which would net the party some much needed funds.
This group is not like that. There is a decided split in the group's interest - ranging between intrigue and story versus going out and whacking stuff with weapons and spells. So some of my nights I find that we cater to some members at the table, and other nights to the others. Since we had spent some 10 plus sessions dungeon crawling, I wanted the party to have some down time, train, sell off some loot, and have some domestic interests capture their attention.
It went over like a lead balloon. Chuckle. Karis and Sheriff Phozarn have learned to despise one another and regardless of what my initial plan was for the party, they have taken control of their destiny and for that I am happy - letting the world be organic around them and their actions. Some little clues I do give (such as the disinterested kobold Ilva and her late night trips out and long delays in returning - only Zoltan noted it, the rest of the party let it go by the wayside), and others I bring up a few times (bugbears constantly around the town, peaceful trading, and their singular immeasurable aid to the greengrocer coalition), and others I just spring out when the mood hits me.
I know that half my party had a lot of fun this night - and when you have 5 or 6 distinct people and personalities around the table, a smart DM realizes that you can't please all of the people all of the time.
Write up follows:
The group rested that night, safe at home but noting the absence of their missing and fallen companions. During the next day, there was a noticeable shift in the guards’ attitude to Karis since we had been here almost a month earlier. They were still a bit standoffish, but had definitely warmed up to him. Except for the Sheriff Phozarn. There was still bad blood between the two of them and it seemed that unless something changed, it would remain as such for some time.
We spent many days going through the dwarven equipment we had taken from the city: jewelry and items of interest. Selling much of it to whoever we could in town. From that, we split up the funds as well as accorded a 10% portion to Sir Walter for the Adventuring Guild. There were two pieces of jewelry that we could not sell in town and Coruth’tae offered to take it with him to Cymbarton to sell there while he was training at the Tower Arcane, bringing the funds home with him at that time.
We had Coruth’tae sign the adventuring charter, and also gave him permission to recruit anyone with either dungeoneering or magical skill while in the city, and then send them back to Orihalcus.
Meanwhile, Detheron and Gwyn spent time training under Solkissa and Marzen Copperworks respectively, achieving 6th level for each of them – bringing our compliment and party to: 1) Karis, half Ogre 4th level Cavalier/2nd level priest to Tyr, 2) Detheron, human 6th level Druid to Frey, 3) Gwynhwyfar, dwarven 6th level Fighter, and 4) Coruth’tae, Grey Elven 4th level Illusionist.
The weather grew colder and the last weeks of autumn were upon us, winter already beginning to grip the land. Karis, being the one individual with some free time, afforded himself and his skills to Sir Walter, burning away more time of his bondsmanship. There was only some work to be done, most of it having already come to a close. So Karis was given to work down at the copper mines, where the slag and dross from the caverns was taken out and then needed to be graded smooth and away from the city’s base. It was hard and menial labor, but it only ate up about 6 hours of his day and his great strength and efforts were appreciated.
After a few weeks, the half-ogre was approached by Sheriff Phozarn who asked for Karis to come with him. Sir Walter had suggested the xenophobic Sheriff approach Karis to help him to smooth over a potential hot spot of activity taking place at the city’s base near the Greengrocer’s Coalition. It seems that the Drywood Bugbear Clan that had been trading peacefully with Orihalcus is looking to winter in some of the Coalition’s dwellings close to the city – and Frau Gail has given them her permission.
Sir Walter thinks it is a good idea but the Sheriff does not, and Karis was asked to come as a representative to help make sure that Altern Lamatous understands the limitations this close to the city and that there would be no issues or bad blood.
The meeting was difficult at best, Sheriff Phozarn openly rude to Karis and disparaging to the bugbear leader. There were many words back and forth and Altern Lamatous was understanding of the rules regarding the city, but mostly he wanted his people to be safe and warm and he and Frau Gail have been engaging in an affair with one another. Admittedly it was a bombshell to hear, and the Altern didn’t seem to grasp the idea of keeping that sort of thing a secret as bugbears are rather open about such issues, but the Sheriff was incensed – and when he approached (or had his men do it) Frau Gail, he was rebuffed and told to mind his own business.
Altern Lamatous did mention that there was another reason – K’Tharkian kobolds had been seen in the area. The Sheriff discounted it, saying that none of his people had seen any such thing, but the bugbear was adamant that there were kobolds out there and that the Sheriff’s men were probably not up to the task of finding them.
Then it was over and Karis and Phozarn went back to the lift where Karis told the Sheriff he was a piece of crap and if you don’t like me, kill me, or leave me alone. Phozarn and the half-ogre squared off but nothing happened and Karis eventually went to Sir Walter and told him what had happened. Slaine and Adeptus Bjorn were having some sort of small party and Karis was told to leave and come back tomorrow.
He arrived home where he was greeted to the kobold women in some sort of confrontation on the floor of the living room, Ilva being sat upon by the other two, hysterically sobbing and her clothes a mess. They all jumped up fast and Ilva ran into her room, slamming the door closed.
While Karis was getting the news from the other two, Detheron and Gwyn came home and the three of them were treated to a load of miserable news.
Ilva was pregnant.
2 months pregnant, the baby due in 3 more. She had apparently met some kobold out in the fields while she was working for the Coalition and he seduced her and she met him half a dozen times and got pregnant. But she remained loyal to the Sundered Chains and when pressed to give up information about Orihalcus or the people or the party, Ilva refused and the other kobold has not come back for 4-5 weeks.
The group decided that this information had to be told to Sir Walter and soon – but the timing of it could not be any worse. Hiding the problem was not an option either, neither was ignoring it. This would be very bad. Kobolds nearby. Phozarn and his men are proven wrong. The kobold women were the party’s responsibility, and one of them was pregnant. What did she tell them? Anything? What?
At this point, the gnome adventurer that Coruth’tae hired in Cymbarton arrived in town and came to present himself to the Sundered Chains. The party was just spot on with being unable to treat a new recruit with respect and in the space of 10 minutes, Fabambus left to go back to the Blue and Dancing Minepick Inn to contemplate the 5 day slow journey he took coming here and the strange group of people he had just met.
The next morning the party went to Sir Walter’s Manorhouse where they went to the befuddled lord. He was obviously in his cups and informed the group that he had just met with Frau Gail, and Sheriff Phozarn, and with Karis’ own report from yesterday, had a good idea on what happened. He liked the party and the bugbears, but the strain of the rule and the expanding city and growing responsibilities was taking its tolls on him. He had a naked blade in his hand and spun it slowly while the party told him about the kobolds and the pregnancy and ALL sorts of wonderful news.
Sir Slaine was adamant that the kobold women were to be removed from the city, immediately. He was contemplating dissolving the party’s bondsmanship and declaring them outlaws as well. He accepted the party “donating” a large pile of coins (300 crowns) to help set up a fund for the bounty that Sir Slaine was going to enact the following day – 10 silver nobles for each pair of kobold ears. The way he explained it, every bounty hunter, ranger, manjake, bushbeater, and bullyblade from here to Seneshia would make their way to Orihalcus bringing trade, coin, and skills to hunt down and root out what K’Tharkian kobolds might be in the area, local or distant.
Our own kobold women would be given one of the party’s carts and a horse, and sent to Ponyboro with a letter from them and Sir Walter – where Lord Artis Daernhorse would find them a place to stay and gainful employment there – safely away from Orihalcus, any bounty hunter, any kobolds in the area, and mostly any temptation to seek them out.
This discussion took some time and Sir Walter asked Gwyn honestly what he thought of his decision, and the pragmatic dwarf replied after eyeing the nobleman’s sword, “To be honest with you Sir, if it was me, I’d have probably killed Karis outright for bringing me this news. No offense Karis.” Chuckle.
We left to make what arrangements were necessary to get the kobold women out of town and when Karis asked Detheron who was going to go right to Solkissa for more training if he wanted to say goodbye to them, the druid sneered and said, “I don’t give a shit. Fuck them.” You can tell he was real torn up over the entire affair (sarcasm).
And we ended it here. It’s Spirit month the 26th and we are going to get the kobold women geared up and safely away, meet with Fabambus properly and talk to the gnome about the group and where we were going to go next (There was talk of back to Fengarth’s Tower as well as Dargan’s Folley), possibly recruit in town people to come back to Dargan’s Folley to help us clear it better, and see what we can do about getting geared up for the excursion. Coruth’tae is due back in 2-3 days and he should have sold the two pieces of jewelry in Cymbarton, which would net the party some much needed funds.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Meet 51, Adv 6, 12/20/08
This was the end of the adventure for the party, but not necessarily the end that had been expected. They had lost one of their members and failed to find the treasure room of Sir Dargan. Also the key that would facilitate the finding and opening of the treasure vault was missing, lost with the gypsy thief.
As a DM you don't want to change things around to either support the party (as it makes them feel more like spectators than players) or the monsters (as it makes them feel put upon unfairly). Escpae from the mausoleum was going to be under their own skill, thoughts, and abilities - and the monsters on the other side were going to behave accordingly for the situation at hand.
One of my experienced players (Zoltan the thief incidentally) commented that this group has a habit of getting ourselves cornered (the great privy battle in Fulgore Keep and the pitched combat against the Castellan in the same place) and that as we go against bigger and stronger foes, we should take better care not to leave ourselves in places where there is no way out.
So they fought their way free, lost Amal the orcish fighter in the process, almost lost Smokey the bear, and could not find out what happened to Zoltan.
But they are alive (those that are left) and have a much better idea what awaits them in the dark places of the earth. And that is going to give them what edge they need when they reequip themsleves and come back.
Write up follows:
The party rested as well as they could, silent and pensive in the dim light provided by their dwindling oil supplies and torches. Their food stores grew weaker while Detheron and Karis tended to the wounded amongst the group. Two full days passed and we waited quietly. Waited and waited. No one came, no one entered…and Zoltan never came back.
During that time they discussed many plans on escape, and discarded them just as swiftly. We had no idea what was outside that door, but if it was a return of the gnolls and their shocker lizard mounts, we would be facing some sort of pitched battle.
We broke our goals down into small pieces and agreed on them. We would open the door. Run as fast as we could if possible for the nearest bridge and over it. Then if time allowed, detour to the Temple of Odin to see if Zoltan was there. If no time allowed, run across the entirety of Wodenvarelse and for the stairs up to and eventually the surface.
After Detheron gave his ok that Smokey and himself were no longer suffering any ill effects from their near death experiences we geared up ourselves and decided on tactics. Coruth’tae would make an illusion of the door being closed, allowing Karis to open the door and peek out and not alert anyone in the hall. Gwyn would be placed square on with the exit, a blessed bolt of Odin loaded and ready in our last available crossbow. Amal would take the other door. Detheron, Smoky and Fodder would be ready to support or run as the situation called for.
The spell was cast and Karis tried to open the door – but it was CHAINED shut from the other side! He couldn’t get it open enough for us to see out there. Coruth’tae used a knock spell to open the lock from the other side of the door and Karis shook the doors enough until the chains loosened and he could “hear” and see through the illusion.
And there were gnolls. Lots of them. At least 8, most likely twice that number.
Karis would not be able to open the door alone. Amal would have to help him, so the plan was altered. Also, the templar told Gwyn to hold his shot until the half-ogre could entice enough of the gnolls to group up into a line so the Blessed Bolt could be most effective.
Karis and Amal shook and bashed and banged and wrenched and tugged on the doors, their combined monstrous strength enough to make the lock and chains stretch enough off the handles so that the weakest links broke free and the doors boomed open.
And in the intervening time that had passed, the gnolls had drawn themselves up ready; a fan two deep of 9 mounted gnolls armed with ranseurs but holding windlass cranked crossbows at the ready, two more in reserves beyond them, and a 4 count unmounted and guarding the area near the bridge. Karis roared in front of them at the double door entrance, shouting “Sakath! You yellow bow-legged bastard! Come out and fight us!”
And the gnolls fired at the half ogre in response. He threw himself aside, struggling to avoid being hit, using the doors as a shield and getting shot at least twice by the heavy bolts. He screamed at Gwyn to “FIRE! FIRE THE DAMNED BOLT!” The dwarf squeezed the trigger and there was a rising power behind him, swarmed down his frame, into the crossbow, blowing it apart as the bolt shot free and became a sonic blast of black energy screeching like a thousand ravens. It tore through two of the mounted gnolls, killing them instantly, blasting their mounts to ruined red meat, and then continued on until it shredded one of the standing gnolls further back – the thunderous echo deafening everyone briefly.
Coruth’tae cast a spell and turned himself invisible. Amal sucked down one of his potion bottles and charged out the door, his shield held in front of him, battered his way into one of the mounted gnolls and bullrushed him off. The two of them rolled about the ground with axes flashing and fists pumping. Karis took up front position at the doorway, called on Tyr for a “Blessing in this time of need!” and half of the gnolls hung back, reloading their crossbows. Some of them ran forward and engaged the half ogre – the shocker lizards blasting small bolts of lightning at the half ogre and Amal. Karis was hurt from the bolts, but Amal was unscathed! The potion he had drunk was Tempestskin, and would make him immune to smaller electrical damage for a time.
Smoky was ordered forward and the bear and Karis plied sword and claw against the lead gnolls. Fodder was held back and Coruth’tae, invisible and hopefully quiet, snuck out of the room and hugged the wall to the right on the way to the bridge. Gwyn drew “Blaze”, the battleaxe flaring to life, and joined the battle.
The reek of lizards was strong and Karis chanced to drink his own Tempestskin potion, the party hoping to carve a way through the fight and press of gnolls. Amal rose to his feet and ignoring more shocks, cried for the party to “Run for the bridge!” as he charged on. One of the gnolls misfired his crossbow and shot his own mount in the back of the head, maddening it and causing the lizard to dump him off as it ran away. More bolts were shot and the templar blocked them with his shield where able to.
There was butchery work to be done and the group did their fair share, but gnolls are not goblins and they did not go down without a struggle, a fight, or dishing out their own damage as well. Two of the gnolls attempted to block Amal, but the orc was able to take one of them down, howling in bloodlust at the other as it attempted to skewer him. The mage hung to the side, walking slow and hoping to avoid being spotted.
The lizards near Karis were enticed to bite the half-ogre after the gnolls realized their shocking blasts were ineffective. He plied the area around him with sword and shield, taking on two gnolls if possible. A knot of three gnolls stayed back and kept up a steady stream of crossbow firing. Detheron pointed at them and called out to Frey, summoning an animal to aid him – and a 14’ crocodile materialized out of nowhere, attacking one of the gnolls who was VERY surprised!
A wildly lucky hit with a ranseur struck Karis in the underside of his right arm, slicing through the gap in the chainmail and slamming through his bicep hard enough to cause a critical wound. His blows weakened and his strength hurt, he grimaced his teeth and returned what attacks he could.
Amal gave the last standing orc a terrific kick and shouted “the bridge is clear” as he tried to race across it. The last mounted gnoll in reserve kicked his mount into motion, charged across the open area, and struck the orcish fighter on the side. The blow was heavy and Amal tried to roll with it, but he was too close to the edge of the bridge and he slipped near the side, wobbling and hanging onto the ranseur inside his gut like a lifeline. The gnoll originally kicked to get past rose to its feet and whipped its morning star at the orc, striking him and Amal fell over the bridge and down the Chasm.
1,100 feet down.
Coruth’tae looked over the side of the Chasm until Amal was lost to sight and hunkered low, invisible and hoping that no one would see him this close to the bridge. One of the gnolls raised an alarm gong, ready to strike it, when the elven mage decided he couldn’t let that happen. He withdrew his shadowwand and activated it – a blast of dark light tearing into the gnoll and stopping him from striking the alarm. But he was no longer invisible. And he had one hurt and one healthy gnoll near him and angry. Very angry.
The party redoubled their efforts. Detheron swung Heimdall’s Bulwark at Karis, healing the ogre of some of his wounds, but he was taking more every step. Fodder ran to help the crocodile in polishing off the gnolls on the left flank. Smoky was taking some hurts. But the gnolls and their lizard mounts were dying. The party was about ready to break free.
Then there was a “whoosh” and a dark skinned bald dwarf, floating 30’ in the air appeared and he held his hands out shouting, “IN VAS FLAM GRAV POR!!” And a ball of fire streaked away and detonated right under the party’s feet. Gwyn and Smoky took the brunt of the blast, Karis and Detheron not as much. The bear and the dwarf were very hurt and wobbling about in pain.
Gwyn struck out with Blaze again and again until the gnoll on the right flank finally died. Then his chest heaving and his hit points in the single digits, he withdrew his only potion of “extra-healing” and drank it down – the cool blue liquid returning some of his strength. Bolstered once more, he took his axe and started running for the bridge and the beleaguered illusionist.
Karis whirled about, trying to take down the gnoll nearby, an unridden shocker lizard gnawing on his leg. Smokey staggered and swung and tore and ripped and roared, but the great bear was bleeding badly. Coruth’tae managed to shout out a quick spell before the gnolls hit him, a scintillating “shield” spell coalescing in front of him just in time.
The flying dwarf called out another spell and a blast of energy washed out – hitting Karis’s sword – shattering the weapon! Karis screamed in frustration and dropped his hilt, tugging Kysoth’s Bludgeon from his belt. The elven illusionist was hit hard, even through the spell, a morning star slamming into his face and dropping him IMMEDIATELY to 1 hit point! Gwyn arrived in time and took on the two gnolls from behind as the elf blasted the shadowwand at the wounded one again, killing it.
Smokey was struck and the great bear fell over groaning and unable to fight. Karis told Detheron to go! Run! Get out of here! But the druid refused to abandon his friend or his animal companion. He healed Karis once more and then tried to make his way to the fallen bear.
The flying dwarf pointed at Gwyn who was battleaxing the last gnoll and a forceful “push” spell struck him, shoving him near the edge of the Chasm! Gwyn dug in his feet and turned and twisted and strained and did NOT go over the edge, instead spinning the gnoll he was fighting to the side and sending it down the deep ravine! Coruth’tae and Gwyn then began to run and run hard and fast.
Detheron called out to Frey and shrunk Smokey down to half size and 1/4th weight, allowing Karis to lift the badly wounded ursine. And they had to because from the darkness behind them, was the call and shout and screams of gnolls. Lots of gnolls.
They were running out of time and they had to go. But when they turned towards the bridge and attempted to run for it, the dark dwarf pointed to the area in front of them and screamed out a spell – and a wall of fire appeared, 10’ high and 80’ long! Trapped!
The druid was furious. He slammed his hand into the ground and fired off a powerful “Quench” spell and the center portion of the ensorcelled wall wavered, flickered, and died in a gap 20’ wide. Fodder, Deth, Karis and Smokey charged through and ran on while the flying dwarf cursed them and shouted. He tried to “push” Karis off the bridge but the mighty half ogre was too strong and ran on.
The pursuing gnolls were behind, close behind. The party paused long enough for Detheron to get a quick healing into Smokey to stabilize the dying bear, but then they were off – some hundred feet or so separating them from their pursuers. Gwyn and Coruth’tae were far ahead and they ran on until they hit the stairs out of the great hall and ran up them, hearts hammering and chests pounding.
For a brief moment Karis mused about going to the Temple of Odin and seeing if Zoltan was there but it was discarded and he ran instead, thrown missile weapons clattering around behind him.
The party ran on, up the stairs, onward and onward. Eventually the sound of the gnoll pursuers faded and was left behind. At the top of the stairs we threw the last lever and dropped the bars and then wearily picked our way out of the Folly and to the surface above. We shut the door, the Lyreth Ward re-enacting and the party rested. Long and deep.
We waited a day and a half – Speaking with Goloriana, discussing what we had seen, and talking about Zoltan and his still not emergence. Finally we could wait no longer. We loaded up the wagons and on Earthmonth the 29th and began the long ride back. It was 3 days to Ponyboro and then we headed towards Orihalcus – another day and a half – making the gates to the copper mining city on Spiritmonth the 3rd, 1:00 in the afternoon – 17 days after we had left.
The guards let us pass, giving Karis a hard look but inquiring on the missing party members. They were saddened to hear that Zoltan had been lost in the Folly and hoped for his eventual return. It was with bitter ruminations that we made our way at long last to our home. The key that we had did not work and the lock had been changed. The kobold women were within and were enticed to let us in.
We learned that a week ago or so, someone had gotten a copy of the house key and attempted to sneak in, but the 3 kobold women used knives, claws, and teeth to drive them away. Sheriff Phozarn had the lock changed and the guards were rotated.
We unloaded all our belongings, Gwyn took the steeds and wagons to the stables. Karis went to see Sir Walter, eventually getting audience with him and Adeptus Bjorn. He talked about our journey and missing companions (Zoltan and Amal), learned about the attempted thievery at the party’s home, there had also been an attempted break in at Sir Walter’s Manor house and the culprit, a dwarven thief from the southern barony, had been tried and hung, and finally that Kalt Slaine had left Orihalcus and was back with his father in Principia.
Karis mentioned that he would be bringing the party’s 10% share for the guild here tomorrow and Adeptus Bjorn brought up Fengarth’s Tower again and the troll T’Nagrath there.
As a DM you don't want to change things around to either support the party (as it makes them feel more like spectators than players) or the monsters (as it makes them feel put upon unfairly). Escpae from the mausoleum was going to be under their own skill, thoughts, and abilities - and the monsters on the other side were going to behave accordingly for the situation at hand.
One of my experienced players (Zoltan the thief incidentally) commented that this group has a habit of getting ourselves cornered (the great privy battle in Fulgore Keep and the pitched combat against the Castellan in the same place) and that as we go against bigger and stronger foes, we should take better care not to leave ourselves in places where there is no way out.
So they fought their way free, lost Amal the orcish fighter in the process, almost lost Smokey the bear, and could not find out what happened to Zoltan.
But they are alive (those that are left) and have a much better idea what awaits them in the dark places of the earth. And that is going to give them what edge they need when they reequip themsleves and come back.
Write up follows:
The party rested as well as they could, silent and pensive in the dim light provided by their dwindling oil supplies and torches. Their food stores grew weaker while Detheron and Karis tended to the wounded amongst the group. Two full days passed and we waited quietly. Waited and waited. No one came, no one entered…and Zoltan never came back.
During that time they discussed many plans on escape, and discarded them just as swiftly. We had no idea what was outside that door, but if it was a return of the gnolls and their shocker lizard mounts, we would be facing some sort of pitched battle.
We broke our goals down into small pieces and agreed on them. We would open the door. Run as fast as we could if possible for the nearest bridge and over it. Then if time allowed, detour to the Temple of Odin to see if Zoltan was there. If no time allowed, run across the entirety of Wodenvarelse and for the stairs up to and eventually the surface.
After Detheron gave his ok that Smokey and himself were no longer suffering any ill effects from their near death experiences we geared up ourselves and decided on tactics. Coruth’tae would make an illusion of the door being closed, allowing Karis to open the door and peek out and not alert anyone in the hall. Gwyn would be placed square on with the exit, a blessed bolt of Odin loaded and ready in our last available crossbow. Amal would take the other door. Detheron, Smoky and Fodder would be ready to support or run as the situation called for.
The spell was cast and Karis tried to open the door – but it was CHAINED shut from the other side! He couldn’t get it open enough for us to see out there. Coruth’tae used a knock spell to open the lock from the other side of the door and Karis shook the doors enough until the chains loosened and he could “hear” and see through the illusion.
And there were gnolls. Lots of them. At least 8, most likely twice that number.
Karis would not be able to open the door alone. Amal would have to help him, so the plan was altered. Also, the templar told Gwyn to hold his shot until the half-ogre could entice enough of the gnolls to group up into a line so the Blessed Bolt could be most effective.
Karis and Amal shook and bashed and banged and wrenched and tugged on the doors, their combined monstrous strength enough to make the lock and chains stretch enough off the handles so that the weakest links broke free and the doors boomed open.
And in the intervening time that had passed, the gnolls had drawn themselves up ready; a fan two deep of 9 mounted gnolls armed with ranseurs but holding windlass cranked crossbows at the ready, two more in reserves beyond them, and a 4 count unmounted and guarding the area near the bridge. Karis roared in front of them at the double door entrance, shouting “Sakath! You yellow bow-legged bastard! Come out and fight us!”
And the gnolls fired at the half ogre in response. He threw himself aside, struggling to avoid being hit, using the doors as a shield and getting shot at least twice by the heavy bolts. He screamed at Gwyn to “FIRE! FIRE THE DAMNED BOLT!” The dwarf squeezed the trigger and there was a rising power behind him, swarmed down his frame, into the crossbow, blowing it apart as the bolt shot free and became a sonic blast of black energy screeching like a thousand ravens. It tore through two of the mounted gnolls, killing them instantly, blasting their mounts to ruined red meat, and then continued on until it shredded one of the standing gnolls further back – the thunderous echo deafening everyone briefly.
Coruth’tae cast a spell and turned himself invisible. Amal sucked down one of his potion bottles and charged out the door, his shield held in front of him, battered his way into one of the mounted gnolls and bullrushed him off. The two of them rolled about the ground with axes flashing and fists pumping. Karis took up front position at the doorway, called on Tyr for a “Blessing in this time of need!” and half of the gnolls hung back, reloading their crossbows. Some of them ran forward and engaged the half ogre – the shocker lizards blasting small bolts of lightning at the half ogre and Amal. Karis was hurt from the bolts, but Amal was unscathed! The potion he had drunk was Tempestskin, and would make him immune to smaller electrical damage for a time.
Smoky was ordered forward and the bear and Karis plied sword and claw against the lead gnolls. Fodder was held back and Coruth’tae, invisible and hopefully quiet, snuck out of the room and hugged the wall to the right on the way to the bridge. Gwyn drew “Blaze”, the battleaxe flaring to life, and joined the battle.
The reek of lizards was strong and Karis chanced to drink his own Tempestskin potion, the party hoping to carve a way through the fight and press of gnolls. Amal rose to his feet and ignoring more shocks, cried for the party to “Run for the bridge!” as he charged on. One of the gnolls misfired his crossbow and shot his own mount in the back of the head, maddening it and causing the lizard to dump him off as it ran away. More bolts were shot and the templar blocked them with his shield where able to.
There was butchery work to be done and the group did their fair share, but gnolls are not goblins and they did not go down without a struggle, a fight, or dishing out their own damage as well. Two of the gnolls attempted to block Amal, but the orc was able to take one of them down, howling in bloodlust at the other as it attempted to skewer him. The mage hung to the side, walking slow and hoping to avoid being spotted.
The lizards near Karis were enticed to bite the half-ogre after the gnolls realized their shocking blasts were ineffective. He plied the area around him with sword and shield, taking on two gnolls if possible. A knot of three gnolls stayed back and kept up a steady stream of crossbow firing. Detheron pointed at them and called out to Frey, summoning an animal to aid him – and a 14’ crocodile materialized out of nowhere, attacking one of the gnolls who was VERY surprised!
A wildly lucky hit with a ranseur struck Karis in the underside of his right arm, slicing through the gap in the chainmail and slamming through his bicep hard enough to cause a critical wound. His blows weakened and his strength hurt, he grimaced his teeth and returned what attacks he could.
Amal gave the last standing orc a terrific kick and shouted “the bridge is clear” as he tried to race across it. The last mounted gnoll in reserve kicked his mount into motion, charged across the open area, and struck the orcish fighter on the side. The blow was heavy and Amal tried to roll with it, but he was too close to the edge of the bridge and he slipped near the side, wobbling and hanging onto the ranseur inside his gut like a lifeline. The gnoll originally kicked to get past rose to its feet and whipped its morning star at the orc, striking him and Amal fell over the bridge and down the Chasm.
1,100 feet down.
Coruth’tae looked over the side of the Chasm until Amal was lost to sight and hunkered low, invisible and hoping that no one would see him this close to the bridge. One of the gnolls raised an alarm gong, ready to strike it, when the elven mage decided he couldn’t let that happen. He withdrew his shadowwand and activated it – a blast of dark light tearing into the gnoll and stopping him from striking the alarm. But he was no longer invisible. And he had one hurt and one healthy gnoll near him and angry. Very angry.
The party redoubled their efforts. Detheron swung Heimdall’s Bulwark at Karis, healing the ogre of some of his wounds, but he was taking more every step. Fodder ran to help the crocodile in polishing off the gnolls on the left flank. Smoky was taking some hurts. But the gnolls and their lizard mounts were dying. The party was about ready to break free.
Then there was a “whoosh” and a dark skinned bald dwarf, floating 30’ in the air appeared and he held his hands out shouting, “IN VAS FLAM GRAV POR!!” And a ball of fire streaked away and detonated right under the party’s feet. Gwyn and Smoky took the brunt of the blast, Karis and Detheron not as much. The bear and the dwarf were very hurt and wobbling about in pain.
Gwyn struck out with Blaze again and again until the gnoll on the right flank finally died. Then his chest heaving and his hit points in the single digits, he withdrew his only potion of “extra-healing” and drank it down – the cool blue liquid returning some of his strength. Bolstered once more, he took his axe and started running for the bridge and the beleaguered illusionist.
Karis whirled about, trying to take down the gnoll nearby, an unridden shocker lizard gnawing on his leg. Smokey staggered and swung and tore and ripped and roared, but the great bear was bleeding badly. Coruth’tae managed to shout out a quick spell before the gnolls hit him, a scintillating “shield” spell coalescing in front of him just in time.
The flying dwarf called out another spell and a blast of energy washed out – hitting Karis’s sword – shattering the weapon! Karis screamed in frustration and dropped his hilt, tugging Kysoth’s Bludgeon from his belt. The elven illusionist was hit hard, even through the spell, a morning star slamming into his face and dropping him IMMEDIATELY to 1 hit point! Gwyn arrived in time and took on the two gnolls from behind as the elf blasted the shadowwand at the wounded one again, killing it.
Smokey was struck and the great bear fell over groaning and unable to fight. Karis told Detheron to go! Run! Get out of here! But the druid refused to abandon his friend or his animal companion. He healed Karis once more and then tried to make his way to the fallen bear.
The flying dwarf pointed at Gwyn who was battleaxing the last gnoll and a forceful “push” spell struck him, shoving him near the edge of the Chasm! Gwyn dug in his feet and turned and twisted and strained and did NOT go over the edge, instead spinning the gnoll he was fighting to the side and sending it down the deep ravine! Coruth’tae and Gwyn then began to run and run hard and fast.
Detheron called out to Frey and shrunk Smokey down to half size and 1/4th weight, allowing Karis to lift the badly wounded ursine. And they had to because from the darkness behind them, was the call and shout and screams of gnolls. Lots of gnolls.
They were running out of time and they had to go. But when they turned towards the bridge and attempted to run for it, the dark dwarf pointed to the area in front of them and screamed out a spell – and a wall of fire appeared, 10’ high and 80’ long! Trapped!
The druid was furious. He slammed his hand into the ground and fired off a powerful “Quench” spell and the center portion of the ensorcelled wall wavered, flickered, and died in a gap 20’ wide. Fodder, Deth, Karis and Smokey charged through and ran on while the flying dwarf cursed them and shouted. He tried to “push” Karis off the bridge but the mighty half ogre was too strong and ran on.
The pursuing gnolls were behind, close behind. The party paused long enough for Detheron to get a quick healing into Smokey to stabilize the dying bear, but then they were off – some hundred feet or so separating them from their pursuers. Gwyn and Coruth’tae were far ahead and they ran on until they hit the stairs out of the great hall and ran up them, hearts hammering and chests pounding.
For a brief moment Karis mused about going to the Temple of Odin and seeing if Zoltan was there but it was discarded and he ran instead, thrown missile weapons clattering around behind him.
The party ran on, up the stairs, onward and onward. Eventually the sound of the gnoll pursuers faded and was left behind. At the top of the stairs we threw the last lever and dropped the bars and then wearily picked our way out of the Folly and to the surface above. We shut the door, the Lyreth Ward re-enacting and the party rested. Long and deep.
We waited a day and a half – Speaking with Goloriana, discussing what we had seen, and talking about Zoltan and his still not emergence. Finally we could wait no longer. We loaded up the wagons and on Earthmonth the 29th and began the long ride back. It was 3 days to Ponyboro and then we headed towards Orihalcus – another day and a half – making the gates to the copper mining city on Spiritmonth the 3rd, 1:00 in the afternoon – 17 days after we had left.
The guards let us pass, giving Karis a hard look but inquiring on the missing party members. They were saddened to hear that Zoltan had been lost in the Folly and hoped for his eventual return. It was with bitter ruminations that we made our way at long last to our home. The key that we had did not work and the lock had been changed. The kobold women were within and were enticed to let us in.
We learned that a week ago or so, someone had gotten a copy of the house key and attempted to sneak in, but the 3 kobold women used knives, claws, and teeth to drive them away. Sheriff Phozarn had the lock changed and the guards were rotated.
We unloaded all our belongings, Gwyn took the steeds and wagons to the stables. Karis went to see Sir Walter, eventually getting audience with him and Adeptus Bjorn. He talked about our journey and missing companions (Zoltan and Amal), learned about the attempted thievery at the party’s home, there had also been an attempted break in at Sir Walter’s Manor house and the culprit, a dwarven thief from the southern barony, had been tried and hung, and finally that Kalt Slaine had left Orihalcus and was back with his father in Principia.
Karis mentioned that he would be bringing the party’s 10% share for the guild here tomorrow and Adeptus Bjorn brought up Fengarth’s Tower again and the troll T’Nagrath there.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Meet 50, Adv 6, 12/13/08
Sometimes the only way to get past an area is to fight. That is it. Yes it is railroading, but if the party WANTS to pursue a certain direction - then that means they have to stay on the rails. The Mausoleum was supposed to be one of those places - a fight, and against undead.
Now I don't go back and rework an area because things have changed in the party. Such as - the party's only undead turning priest temporarily missing the use of his priestly powers because he pissed off his god - ie, Karis. So they were going into a fight with what would have been 50 Skeletons without anyway to turn or dispel them (not counting the 2 burning bones or the wraith). Ok, not too much of a problem for 5th-6th level party.
The room would also lock and remain locked for 5 rounds, after which time the doors could be opened. Not my fault the party never rechecked the door after round 3.
There was an escape path through here - but when it was made by the long ago dwarves, it was made for THEM and their height - not my fault that the party has a half-ogre, a grizzly bear, and an orcish fighter with them - all too large to fit down and out of that area.
And lastly, it is not my fault that one of the party members unleashed a Blessed Bolt (which always do 40 points of damage (half if save), 5' path, and are always 100' long) in a room too small to contain it. Which meant it hit the wall at some point and swung back - hitting the party.
It might not be my fault, but it sure made for an interesting night of adventuring!
Write up follows:
Karis gave the sarcophagus a hard shove…and the lid slid over with the heavy grating of stone on stone. Foul dust and vapors arose, and he waited a moment for it to clear, revealing at long last a dried and desiccated dwarven body. Moldering robes were draped over its form, and a chain hauberk rusting away was worn over that. On its breast on a chain of silvered gold, was a jeweled symbol to Thor.
A strange "thrum" seemed to run through the room and the party looked about, worried. Nothing happened. Do they take the amulet? Would the dead arise? What was the "thrum"? Much conversation followed, and the party was concerned on many issues.
It was decided that Zoltan would at least go into the area behind some of the interred bodies and get the crossbow bolts and other gear the dwarves had hidden there in the past. It would involve him crawling through one of the niches and over a dead body interred there to get to the hidey hole – which he did gingerly. The remains were disturbed – but nothing untoward happened. He grabbed the 4 bolts (one was a blessed bolt to Thor, one was heavily runed, and the other two were lightly runed), as well as the poor condition windlass cranked crossbow from there, and passed it back. He looked around – the hidey area was 5'x8'x5' and there was a narrow sloping curving corridor maybe 20 inches wide that ran off from here and to the north. He noted it and then rejoined the party, his "haste" potion still in effect.
A few plans were hatched and discarded, but eventually the party decided that they would have Coruth'tae and Detheron open the door, Zoltan would snatch the amulet off the dead dwarf's neck (I believe the terms – “not being gentle about it” – was bandied about), and Karis, Gwyn, and Amal would race out of the room and engage the gnolls most likely on the other side hopefully with some element of surprise.
With the clock ticking and time passing, the party nodded to themselves and the doors were yanked open.
And as had been laughed about earlier, our plans usually only last about 3 seconds.
The "thrum" in the room grew very strong and the two doors slammed closed. Zoltan grabbed the amulet and with his ensorcelled speed burning through his limbs, pulled the holy symbol free scant inches ahead of the slamming closed sarcophagus cover. Prize in hand, he leapt off the dais and joined the party as Karis was trying to force the doors opened. And then over a dozen dwarven bodies rolled off their niches and stood before walking lock-step and lurchingly towards the group.
Zoltan swung his cloak about his form and winked out –trying to "port" out of the room to open the door from the other side, while Karis was having serious difficulty and was unable to pull the door open. Those skeletons closest to Smokey and Fodder were assaulted, but the animals were not having much luck in taking the fleshless foes down. Gwyn had taken the windlass crossbow and bolts from Zoltan earlier but slung it across his back and drew his new battleaxe "Blaze". Credit to its name, both bits bust into fire and the dwarf attacked the undead – taking it down swiftly.
Amal drew his cudgel and raced over, swinging his own weapon as he beat another lumbering skeleton to death. The group was feeling pretty good about it even as the undead strode across the chamber towards them. And then another fourteen or so dead dwarves rose to their feet and joined the others already approaching the group. Also, the coffin of Iodin began to give forth a greenish hue that seeped out from the bottom of the stone box.
Zoltan appeared – but not outside as he suspected – instead still within the chamber! Apparently the "thrumming" or whatever was warding the place was preventing him from portalling out. There were a few undead near him so he lay about him with his weighted chain clobbering the skeletons on the head while attempting to get back to the group. Karis bent his back to the door, failing to make any more headway against it even though the portal shook in its frame. Detheron called on Frey to grant Karis a charm of Strength hoping that would help in the matter. Amal beat his cudgel against a few more skeletons but not wanting to get cut off, broke away (getting whacked once for his efforts) and ran to help Karis on the door. Gwyn held his own, plying about him with the magical battleaxe, taking down the skeletons that were surrounding him. Coruth'tae used his shadow wand and tore one of the skeletons to shreds.
But more of the walking undead drew close and hammers, axes, and swords fell – and the party's fighters began taking wounds. Lots of wounds.
As the party was fighting, the green glow on the coffin grew brighter – and then a reddish glow began to come from the next two coffins in the dais. With the press of undead now too great for us to ignore, Karis whirled back about and drew the mace Kysoth's Bludgeon, attempting to clear a path to Gwyn who was now surrounded by dwarven skeletons. And another 14 skeletons rolled off their biers and added to the fray.
It was becoming impossible to maneuver about the room and the group was doing what they could to stay together. Smokey and Fodder were warding the left flank, Amal and Gwyn on the right, Karis was on the center with Zoltan and in the middle with spells and wands flashing were Coruth'tae and Detheron. Gwyn was getting beaten pretty badly and opted to switch out of his battle axe and to his scimitar and shield in order to better defend himself. The glowing sarcophagi were getting brighter and the group was having a hard time avoiding being hit.
Zoltan took a look at the situation and (as had been assumed) was going to try and open the door from the outside – but not by portalling out the way we came in (which failed), but by going back to the hidey hole behind the niche and chancing the passage there. He swung the cloak about himself and disappeared.
More skeletons were dispatched but the party was still surrounded and in dire straits. Detheron withdrew the scroll of Mass Cure Moderate Wounds he had found and intoned it off – giving everyone in the party a quick burst of much needed hit points. Gwyn was getting hit less (thanks to his shield), but his scimitar although wonderful against fleshy creatures, was ill-equipped to hurt and harm the skeletons and he had to work twice as hard to take down the undead. Karis continued to lay about him but the horde of undead was unrelenting in its press.
And then another 10 skeleton rolled off the niches and the party groaned in weariness. The two "red glowing" sarcophagi fired the light into two of the skeletons closest to the dais and those two burst into flames. They also moved with surety and skill, not with the same lurching motion the other skeletons were displaying. Zoltan appeared right by the hidey hole and dove through, avoiding the skeleton that was there by a hand's breadth. The single dwarven skeleton dropped to its hands and knees and followed.
With the count of undead reaching 50 now (not accounting for the dozen or more so we had already killed), we redoubled our efforts, keeping a weather eye on the two pacing flaming skeletons who were walking not towards the group, but for the green glowing sarcophagus. Gwyn decided to accept more hits and went back to his battleaxe, Blaze flaring to life once more. We struck and fired and swung and bashed and did all we could to take down as many of the undead as fast as possible, but there were too many and they didn't stop.
Zoltan hit the hidey-room, turned left, and threw himself into the narrow cleft, sliding down and racing away in order to make distance from the pursuing skeleton but to also see if he could make it to the main hall and open the door.
The two flaming skeletons raised their weapons and brought them down on the green coffin – and a burst of light flowed out and the room grew cold as a wraith-like apparition in flowing black and wielding a weapon of negative energy emerged and scanned the chamber as if searching for something. Not seeing what it wanted, it instead focused itself on Karis and assaulted the half-ogre templar. Karis dodged and evaded, the spectral touch of the creature never fully landing on him but its presence causing his armor and mace to become rimed with frost.
The party was very afraid – skeletons they could do their best to weather against, but a wraith was a different matter. In his pack, Karis had a vial of holy water but would be unable to get it out. Coruth'tae dug around his backpack during the fight until his hands closed about the precious vial and he drew it free with a cheer. We battered skeletons to dust and tried to turn the tide of the fight as best as possible.
Opening the stopper, the elven illusionist tossed the holy water over Karis' head at the wraith – but there was a green blast of light and the wraith had moved! Transposed places with a skeleton fighter 15' away! The holy water rained on the skeleton but the wraith was unharmed – and the heat sucking creature moved now closer to Gwyn, attacking the dwarven fighter. Things were getting desperate.
And Gwyn decided enough was enough. Dropping back a few feet he took a few short hits from hammers and axes, drew his battered crossbow, slapped a Blessed Bolt of Odin within and fired it at point blank range at the wraith. The rising crescendo of building power swarmed down the dwarf's arm, into the crossbow and a blast of black tinged sonic energy like the shrill squeal of a thousand ravens tore the weapon apart and ripped into and through the undead terror. It crushed another 5 skeletons that were in the area, bones exploding to dust and shards.
The wave of energy hit the wall of the mausoleum and then rebounded back towards the party! Gwyn was unable to dodge out of the way and neither was Detheron, both the dwarf and the druid slain by the sonic blast. Karis was able to avoid some of it as the bolt ran dry but he was now badly wounded. The dwarf was very dead, his body battered and crushed, the druid was gurgling on his own blood and hit the ground with a hollow thud and crack. Smokey and Fodder went wild, the two animals going berserk at the "death" of their master and friend. And the two flaming skeletons stepped right up to Karis. The party's situation had just gone from difficult to poor.
The walls shook around Zoltan and the sonic boom was deafening in the confined space. He ran on, emerging over the side of the chasm, 40' down from the "lip". There was once a metal ladder here, but it had long ago rusted away, leaving only stubs sticking out of the wall. Feeling the last dregs of the "haste" potion working its way out of his blood stream, he withdrew a vial of holy water and ran back down the narrow corridor to throw it at the approaching undead skeleton, causing it to break apart.
The party hovered around their fallen members, Karis slamming the full force of his attacks at one of the flaming skeletons, getting burned just from being in the vicinity of the monster. The creature responded as best as possible, its hammer battering at the half-ogre's chest. Then Coruth'tae's shadow wand spat out and a blast of magic tore the burning undead to pieces. Smokey and Fodder tore into as many of the massed undead around the fallen Detheron as possible, bones and fur and blood flying.
Zoltan went back to the chasm and noting the many handholds, decided to scale the wall parallel to the bottom, but back to the other side, the original side we had come from, as there were many many many excited gnoll voices in the hall on this side.
Amal shouldered another skeleton down, beating the creature's head and chest to splinters before engaging the next one. The orcish fighter was wearying, Smokey was taking punishing damage, and Karis was wrestling with the other flaming skeleton, his mighty form dripping sweat and blood. The elven illusionist upended one of his own potions of healing into Detheron (who was at -6) and brought him back up just to the right side of the number zero. The druid gasped and tried to rise, fumbling to even roll over.
And then a dwarven hammer wielding skeleton slipped past Fodder and bashed the druid about the face and neck – killing him again!
Zoltan was tired, the haste no longer in effect, his body worn and older and weary. He worked his way with labored breathing up the side of the chasm and rolled into the dark corner, watching the dim gnoll shapes on the other side and their yells and frantic calls. The name "Sakath" was said often and goblin voices were mixed in with the deeper gnoll sounds.
Before Coruth'tae used another healing potion to bring Detheron back from the dead once more, the illusionist remembered the cruelty that the druid treated him with when he first came to the party – so he lifted his foot up high and brought his hard soled boots down once on Detheron's face – busting his nose. And then he used a healing potion to heal him and wake him up. Amal, Smokey, Fodder, and Karis assaulted the shrinking pile of skeletons with a sense of optimism as they took down one after the other.
And then Smokey, the mighty bear, slumped over from the beating he had been taking and the two closest dwarven skeletons tore into the great ursine and killed it; his chest falling weakly and his 450 lb form striking the floor (-8). Amal jumped over Gwyn's unconscious form and took up the flanking position from Karis, allowing the half-ogre to get closer to the other side where Smokey had fallen.
Coruth'tae withdrew his last potion of healing and deciding swiftly, poured it down Smokey's lolling mouth, stemming the blood loss and stabilizing the druid's companion. The total hit points were dripping lower and lower into the teens or less for those still standing, the elf himself taking a couple of strikes from the last handful of skeletons.
Fodder's skull was whacked with an axe and the warwolf hit the stones with a wail and a howl, knocked unconscious (-1). But with the last of their strength, Karis and Amal each assaulted the last two skeletons and then the battle was done. It was a mess. Over 50 skeletons were scattered about the mausoleum, Gwyn was dead, Zoltan missing, Detheron barely breathing and unable to stand without aid, Smokey and Fodder knocked out and barely alive, Amal, Coruth'tae and Karis all bleeding and terribly wounded. But it was over, and a victory of sorts.
Detheron used Heimdall's Bulwark to stop most of the terrible wounds the party was suffering, but he was too weak to trust reading the scroll of "raise dead" that we had been carrying so Gwyn would have to wait. We decided that we would NOT be attempting to open the door and would just hole up here and hope the gnolls wouldn't enter (if the door could even BE opened! Lol) and that Zoltan would show up. We didn't know if he was alive, dead, missing, or what. We knew he tried to portal out twice with his cloak, and we suspect he used the secret area behind the niche but in the heat of the battle, no one really knew for sure.
As for Zoltan, he watched the area for some time. He heard the gnolls become deferential to another one who came, identified as Sakath. He could not see them, but their voices were plain. He heard some yelling, and Thor’s name uttered a few times, and then the rattling of chains and the finality sounds of clicking locks. Then some shaman raised its voice in supplication and the gnolls eventually relaxed and were going back to their normal activity – which meant patrolling.
The gypsy turned around and staying in the corner, worked his way back up the great hall, and when he got to the first turn off, he took it until his wandering and weary feet brought him back to the Temple of Odin the party had been in some time earlier. There had been talk that if the crap hit the fan, they should use this area as a meet up spot. He spiked the door closed and took stock of himself and his situation.
But most importantly, he took out the jeweled symbol to Thor that the party had worked real hard to get. This symbol was supposedly the only thing that would allow anyone to get past the 11' tall golden glowing hammer in what was called the "thane room" in order to get the runekey. The same runekey that would open every "D" rune locked doors in Wodenvarelse – of which one of them was going to be the treasure vault.
He waited – almost 30 minutes, before tucking the symbol into his pouch, tightened his boot laces, and walked out of the temple to test his chances and try to get the Runekey on his own.
As for the rest of the group, they stayed in the Mausoleum. They used what potions they had, what magics were available, and they waited. Gwyn was brought back to life but the dwarf was weaker for the experience. The party took stock of their position and noted grimly at what lay ahead of them. Knowing that Smokey and Detheron would be unable to travel or fight effectively for the next 2 days. And that would mean a drain on their already weak oil supplies, foods, and most importantly – time. Where was Zoltan? What would they do? What happens next?
Now I don't go back and rework an area because things have changed in the party. Such as - the party's only undead turning priest temporarily missing the use of his priestly powers because he pissed off his god - ie, Karis. So they were going into a fight with what would have been 50 Skeletons without anyway to turn or dispel them (not counting the 2 burning bones or the wraith). Ok, not too much of a problem for 5th-6th level party.
The room would also lock and remain locked for 5 rounds, after which time the doors could be opened. Not my fault the party never rechecked the door after round 3.
There was an escape path through here - but when it was made by the long ago dwarves, it was made for THEM and their height - not my fault that the party has a half-ogre, a grizzly bear, and an orcish fighter with them - all too large to fit down and out of that area.
And lastly, it is not my fault that one of the party members unleashed a Blessed Bolt (which always do 40 points of damage (half if save), 5' path, and are always 100' long) in a room too small to contain it. Which meant it hit the wall at some point and swung back - hitting the party.
It might not be my fault, but it sure made for an interesting night of adventuring!
Write up follows:
Karis gave the sarcophagus a hard shove…and the lid slid over with the heavy grating of stone on stone. Foul dust and vapors arose, and he waited a moment for it to clear, revealing at long last a dried and desiccated dwarven body. Moldering robes were draped over its form, and a chain hauberk rusting away was worn over that. On its breast on a chain of silvered gold, was a jeweled symbol to Thor.
A strange "thrum" seemed to run through the room and the party looked about, worried. Nothing happened. Do they take the amulet? Would the dead arise? What was the "thrum"? Much conversation followed, and the party was concerned on many issues.
It was decided that Zoltan would at least go into the area behind some of the interred bodies and get the crossbow bolts and other gear the dwarves had hidden there in the past. It would involve him crawling through one of the niches and over a dead body interred there to get to the hidey hole – which he did gingerly. The remains were disturbed – but nothing untoward happened. He grabbed the 4 bolts (one was a blessed bolt to Thor, one was heavily runed, and the other two were lightly runed), as well as the poor condition windlass cranked crossbow from there, and passed it back. He looked around – the hidey area was 5'x8'x5' and there was a narrow sloping curving corridor maybe 20 inches wide that ran off from here and to the north. He noted it and then rejoined the party, his "haste" potion still in effect.
A few plans were hatched and discarded, but eventually the party decided that they would have Coruth'tae and Detheron open the door, Zoltan would snatch the amulet off the dead dwarf's neck (I believe the terms – “not being gentle about it” – was bandied about), and Karis, Gwyn, and Amal would race out of the room and engage the gnolls most likely on the other side hopefully with some element of surprise.
With the clock ticking and time passing, the party nodded to themselves and the doors were yanked open.
And as had been laughed about earlier, our plans usually only last about 3 seconds.
The "thrum" in the room grew very strong and the two doors slammed closed. Zoltan grabbed the amulet and with his ensorcelled speed burning through his limbs, pulled the holy symbol free scant inches ahead of the slamming closed sarcophagus cover. Prize in hand, he leapt off the dais and joined the party as Karis was trying to force the doors opened. And then over a dozen dwarven bodies rolled off their niches and stood before walking lock-step and lurchingly towards the group.
Zoltan swung his cloak about his form and winked out –trying to "port" out of the room to open the door from the other side, while Karis was having serious difficulty and was unable to pull the door open. Those skeletons closest to Smokey and Fodder were assaulted, but the animals were not having much luck in taking the fleshless foes down. Gwyn had taken the windlass crossbow and bolts from Zoltan earlier but slung it across his back and drew his new battleaxe "Blaze". Credit to its name, both bits bust into fire and the dwarf attacked the undead – taking it down swiftly.
Amal drew his cudgel and raced over, swinging his own weapon as he beat another lumbering skeleton to death. The group was feeling pretty good about it even as the undead strode across the chamber towards them. And then another fourteen or so dead dwarves rose to their feet and joined the others already approaching the group. Also, the coffin of Iodin began to give forth a greenish hue that seeped out from the bottom of the stone box.
Zoltan appeared – but not outside as he suspected – instead still within the chamber! Apparently the "thrumming" or whatever was warding the place was preventing him from portalling out. There were a few undead near him so he lay about him with his weighted chain clobbering the skeletons on the head while attempting to get back to the group. Karis bent his back to the door, failing to make any more headway against it even though the portal shook in its frame. Detheron called on Frey to grant Karis a charm of Strength hoping that would help in the matter. Amal beat his cudgel against a few more skeletons but not wanting to get cut off, broke away (getting whacked once for his efforts) and ran to help Karis on the door. Gwyn held his own, plying about him with the magical battleaxe, taking down the skeletons that were surrounding him. Coruth'tae used his shadow wand and tore one of the skeletons to shreds.
But more of the walking undead drew close and hammers, axes, and swords fell – and the party's fighters began taking wounds. Lots of wounds.
As the party was fighting, the green glow on the coffin grew brighter – and then a reddish glow began to come from the next two coffins in the dais. With the press of undead now too great for us to ignore, Karis whirled back about and drew the mace Kysoth's Bludgeon, attempting to clear a path to Gwyn who was now surrounded by dwarven skeletons. And another 14 skeletons rolled off their biers and added to the fray.
It was becoming impossible to maneuver about the room and the group was doing what they could to stay together. Smokey and Fodder were warding the left flank, Amal and Gwyn on the right, Karis was on the center with Zoltan and in the middle with spells and wands flashing were Coruth'tae and Detheron. Gwyn was getting beaten pretty badly and opted to switch out of his battle axe and to his scimitar and shield in order to better defend himself. The glowing sarcophagi were getting brighter and the group was having a hard time avoiding being hit.
Zoltan took a look at the situation and (as had been assumed) was going to try and open the door from the outside – but not by portalling out the way we came in (which failed), but by going back to the hidey hole behind the niche and chancing the passage there. He swung the cloak about himself and disappeared.
More skeletons were dispatched but the party was still surrounded and in dire straits. Detheron withdrew the scroll of Mass Cure Moderate Wounds he had found and intoned it off – giving everyone in the party a quick burst of much needed hit points. Gwyn was getting hit less (thanks to his shield), but his scimitar although wonderful against fleshy creatures, was ill-equipped to hurt and harm the skeletons and he had to work twice as hard to take down the undead. Karis continued to lay about him but the horde of undead was unrelenting in its press.
And then another 10 skeleton rolled off the niches and the party groaned in weariness. The two "red glowing" sarcophagi fired the light into two of the skeletons closest to the dais and those two burst into flames. They also moved with surety and skill, not with the same lurching motion the other skeletons were displaying. Zoltan appeared right by the hidey hole and dove through, avoiding the skeleton that was there by a hand's breadth. The single dwarven skeleton dropped to its hands and knees and followed.
With the count of undead reaching 50 now (not accounting for the dozen or more so we had already killed), we redoubled our efforts, keeping a weather eye on the two pacing flaming skeletons who were walking not towards the group, but for the green glowing sarcophagus. Gwyn decided to accept more hits and went back to his battleaxe, Blaze flaring to life once more. We struck and fired and swung and bashed and did all we could to take down as many of the undead as fast as possible, but there were too many and they didn't stop.
Zoltan hit the hidey-room, turned left, and threw himself into the narrow cleft, sliding down and racing away in order to make distance from the pursuing skeleton but to also see if he could make it to the main hall and open the door.
The two flaming skeletons raised their weapons and brought them down on the green coffin – and a burst of light flowed out and the room grew cold as a wraith-like apparition in flowing black and wielding a weapon of negative energy emerged and scanned the chamber as if searching for something. Not seeing what it wanted, it instead focused itself on Karis and assaulted the half-ogre templar. Karis dodged and evaded, the spectral touch of the creature never fully landing on him but its presence causing his armor and mace to become rimed with frost.
The party was very afraid – skeletons they could do their best to weather against, but a wraith was a different matter. In his pack, Karis had a vial of holy water but would be unable to get it out. Coruth'tae dug around his backpack during the fight until his hands closed about the precious vial and he drew it free with a cheer. We battered skeletons to dust and tried to turn the tide of the fight as best as possible.
Opening the stopper, the elven illusionist tossed the holy water over Karis' head at the wraith – but there was a green blast of light and the wraith had moved! Transposed places with a skeleton fighter 15' away! The holy water rained on the skeleton but the wraith was unharmed – and the heat sucking creature moved now closer to Gwyn, attacking the dwarven fighter. Things were getting desperate.
And Gwyn decided enough was enough. Dropping back a few feet he took a few short hits from hammers and axes, drew his battered crossbow, slapped a Blessed Bolt of Odin within and fired it at point blank range at the wraith. The rising crescendo of building power swarmed down the dwarf's arm, into the crossbow and a blast of black tinged sonic energy like the shrill squeal of a thousand ravens tore the weapon apart and ripped into and through the undead terror. It crushed another 5 skeletons that were in the area, bones exploding to dust and shards.
The wave of energy hit the wall of the mausoleum and then rebounded back towards the party! Gwyn was unable to dodge out of the way and neither was Detheron, both the dwarf and the druid slain by the sonic blast. Karis was able to avoid some of it as the bolt ran dry but he was now badly wounded. The dwarf was very dead, his body battered and crushed, the druid was gurgling on his own blood and hit the ground with a hollow thud and crack. Smokey and Fodder went wild, the two animals going berserk at the "death" of their master and friend. And the two flaming skeletons stepped right up to Karis. The party's situation had just gone from difficult to poor.
The walls shook around Zoltan and the sonic boom was deafening in the confined space. He ran on, emerging over the side of the chasm, 40' down from the "lip". There was once a metal ladder here, but it had long ago rusted away, leaving only stubs sticking out of the wall. Feeling the last dregs of the "haste" potion working its way out of his blood stream, he withdrew a vial of holy water and ran back down the narrow corridor to throw it at the approaching undead skeleton, causing it to break apart.
The party hovered around their fallen members, Karis slamming the full force of his attacks at one of the flaming skeletons, getting burned just from being in the vicinity of the monster. The creature responded as best as possible, its hammer battering at the half-ogre's chest. Then Coruth'tae's shadow wand spat out and a blast of magic tore the burning undead to pieces. Smokey and Fodder tore into as many of the massed undead around the fallen Detheron as possible, bones and fur and blood flying.
Zoltan went back to the chasm and noting the many handholds, decided to scale the wall parallel to the bottom, but back to the other side, the original side we had come from, as there were many many many excited gnoll voices in the hall on this side.
Amal shouldered another skeleton down, beating the creature's head and chest to splinters before engaging the next one. The orcish fighter was wearying, Smokey was taking punishing damage, and Karis was wrestling with the other flaming skeleton, his mighty form dripping sweat and blood. The elven illusionist upended one of his own potions of healing into Detheron (who was at -6) and brought him back up just to the right side of the number zero. The druid gasped and tried to rise, fumbling to even roll over.
And then a dwarven hammer wielding skeleton slipped past Fodder and bashed the druid about the face and neck – killing him again!
Zoltan was tired, the haste no longer in effect, his body worn and older and weary. He worked his way with labored breathing up the side of the chasm and rolled into the dark corner, watching the dim gnoll shapes on the other side and their yells and frantic calls. The name "Sakath" was said often and goblin voices were mixed in with the deeper gnoll sounds.
Before Coruth'tae used another healing potion to bring Detheron back from the dead once more, the illusionist remembered the cruelty that the druid treated him with when he first came to the party – so he lifted his foot up high and brought his hard soled boots down once on Detheron's face – busting his nose. And then he used a healing potion to heal him and wake him up. Amal, Smokey, Fodder, and Karis assaulted the shrinking pile of skeletons with a sense of optimism as they took down one after the other.
And then Smokey, the mighty bear, slumped over from the beating he had been taking and the two closest dwarven skeletons tore into the great ursine and killed it; his chest falling weakly and his 450 lb form striking the floor (-8). Amal jumped over Gwyn's unconscious form and took up the flanking position from Karis, allowing the half-ogre to get closer to the other side where Smokey had fallen.
Coruth'tae withdrew his last potion of healing and deciding swiftly, poured it down Smokey's lolling mouth, stemming the blood loss and stabilizing the druid's companion. The total hit points were dripping lower and lower into the teens or less for those still standing, the elf himself taking a couple of strikes from the last handful of skeletons.
Fodder's skull was whacked with an axe and the warwolf hit the stones with a wail and a howl, knocked unconscious (-1). But with the last of their strength, Karis and Amal each assaulted the last two skeletons and then the battle was done. It was a mess. Over 50 skeletons were scattered about the mausoleum, Gwyn was dead, Zoltan missing, Detheron barely breathing and unable to stand without aid, Smokey and Fodder knocked out and barely alive, Amal, Coruth'tae and Karis all bleeding and terribly wounded. But it was over, and a victory of sorts.
Detheron used Heimdall's Bulwark to stop most of the terrible wounds the party was suffering, but he was too weak to trust reading the scroll of "raise dead" that we had been carrying so Gwyn would have to wait. We decided that we would NOT be attempting to open the door and would just hole up here and hope the gnolls wouldn't enter (if the door could even BE opened! Lol) and that Zoltan would show up. We didn't know if he was alive, dead, missing, or what. We knew he tried to portal out twice with his cloak, and we suspect he used the secret area behind the niche but in the heat of the battle, no one really knew for sure.
As for Zoltan, he watched the area for some time. He heard the gnolls become deferential to another one who came, identified as Sakath. He could not see them, but their voices were plain. He heard some yelling, and Thor’s name uttered a few times, and then the rattling of chains and the finality sounds of clicking locks. Then some shaman raised its voice in supplication and the gnolls eventually relaxed and were going back to their normal activity – which meant patrolling.
The gypsy turned around and staying in the corner, worked his way back up the great hall, and when he got to the first turn off, he took it until his wandering and weary feet brought him back to the Temple of Odin the party had been in some time earlier. There had been talk that if the crap hit the fan, they should use this area as a meet up spot. He spiked the door closed and took stock of himself and his situation.
But most importantly, he took out the jeweled symbol to Thor that the party had worked real hard to get. This symbol was supposedly the only thing that would allow anyone to get past the 11' tall golden glowing hammer in what was called the "thane room" in order to get the runekey. The same runekey that would open every "D" rune locked doors in Wodenvarelse – of which one of them was going to be the treasure vault.
He waited – almost 30 minutes, before tucking the symbol into his pouch, tightened his boot laces, and walked out of the temple to test his chances and try to get the Runekey on his own.
As for the rest of the group, they stayed in the Mausoleum. They used what potions they had, what magics were available, and they waited. Gwyn was brought back to life but the dwarf was weaker for the experience. The party took stock of their position and noted grimly at what lay ahead of them. Knowing that Smokey and Detheron would be unable to travel or fight effectively for the next 2 days. And that would mean a drain on their already weak oil supplies, foods, and most importantly – time. Where was Zoltan? What would they do? What happens next?
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Meet 49, Adv 6, 11/29/08
Some DM's really pride themselves on stumping the party - some esoteric clues that only a cryptologist can decipher. They lord their superiority over their players with a deadly trap or and impossible puzzle.
The group ran into a snag - due to an unfortunate missing of a certain room across the Grand Hall, they were unaware that there were two Mausoleums flanking the area across the bridge - the north one housing Odin, and the south one housing Thor.
My rule is simple - 45 minutes. Tops. If the group can't find the clue or figure out the problem - I'm not going to force them to beat their head against the wall. I'll start handing out clues. Unless they either get it, or its obvious they aren't.
Nothing ruins a game faster than NOT being able to proceed due to some bit of lore that only the guy behind the screen is privy too, and giggling as the other 6 people around the table aren't having any fun.
So I was happy to reveal the missing clue that there was another tomb - and they took it from there. Including the plan involving potions of fire resistance, haste, screaming, and oil.
I was tempted to use the potion miscibility table - but that would have just been me being petty. :)
Write up follows:
Karis made some attempt to open a conduit to his god but Tyr was not responding to his pleas. The party was wondering what to do and how to help, but the half-ogre asked to be left alone. The rest of the group nodded and then moved on; Karis was going through the effort of gathering up all the broken and loose stonework he could find.
We decided to search out the local shops, hoping to find anything of interest or value. The first place we came to was once a swordmakers, but had been severely looted and ransacked. So we moved on to the next shop which was a weaponmakers – but it too had been picked clean over the ravages of time.
There was an axesmith’s next, with a “runelocked” door – and thought was given to opening it, but it was decided to wait for Karis as it might have something dangerous within. So we crossed the street to the only other shop with a standard marking it: the arbalests.
The place wasn’t nearly as beaten up as the other shops and the party took their time really giving the place a once over when their careful poking about disturbed a large spider. The arachnid pounced on Fodder and sunk its fangs into the war-wolf’s neck – injecting the druid’s pet with the spider’s venom. There were attempts to sweep it away or strike it, but they were not effective, until Gwyn grabbed the spider and held it – getting bit himself! While he was being attacked, Smokey came up and with a single swipe – obliterated the spider.
Detheron administered was elixirs he had to kill the poison in both the wolf and the dwarf and the rest of the party learned that there was nothing of value in the shop.
Meanwhile, while Karis was ruminating about his deeds and loss of Tyr’s blessing in his life, he was working up a sweat and thinking about his god, praying. And then he felt his consciousness elsewhere. He was in a large Heorot, the smell of peat fires and ale very strong. Warriors of all ages and of all types were gathered about the center cleared area where Karis found himself standing with a 7’ tall oddly nice looking human to his one side and a 13’ impression of the one-handed god of justice Tyr on the other.
He pled his case and Tyr listened and the other warriors and gods listened on – and Loki (the other person in the amphitheatre) was defending Karis’ actions against the goblins but Karis was not going to be tricked and stayed loyal to Tyr. Tyr told Karis that he would have to prove himself penitent for 24 hours and then he’d get his powers back. Loki told him that when Tyr was done with him, to look him up and he’d have a place for him.
Then Karis felt himself back where he was before and finished up his cairning of the goblins and praying over them. Then he walked down the hall to the party and both groups filled in the others with what they had learned so far.
Decision was made to go check out the rune locked doorway at the Axesmith as Detheron had one more stone affecting spell – and could widen one of the windows BARELY large enough for a lithe human to get through. Like Zoltan.
Our resident thief entered the shop – untouched for a century and a half. It was thick with dust but there were over 2 dozen samples of pristine dwarven axe-craftsmanship in displays all over the store. And directly over the archway was the shop’s masterpiece. This one axe that stood out. Hanging over the arch to the back portion of the shop, it is double bitted, about 4’ in length and the handle is wrapped in a strange pebbled leather as a grip. The metal is shimmering steel with wavering veins of red and orange flaring across both bits like flowing water. There is a carved dragon’s head between the bits and the shaft of the battle axe is hexagonal and turned clockwise. A number of Dwarven runes spell out the weapon’s name “Blaze” across the mirror like surface of each bit.
Zoltan wanted to give the place a once over – and like any good thief – looked for the cash box. It was still there, and he carefully pulled it out, trying to see if it would come. It did so – but in doing so, he triggered the trap and a poison dart shot out – hitting him in the wrist and he passed out.
The party waited but all they saw was Zoltan go down to get something and then nothing else. Eventually Detheron as the next smallest was voted to go in and see what had happened. He slithered through the window and Karis gave him a shove – knocking the druid forcefully through until he fell free and slammed his head into the counter. Detheron cursed the half ogre and made his way to Zoltan. He was unconscious and would need to be treated for the poison. Another precious elixir was administered and although the venom was taken from the wound, the thief was still unconscious.
So Detheron made to take the battle axe off the wall – and triggered a warding glyph – shocking himself for a sizeable amount of lightning damage and causing him to back away. After healing himself, he decided it was best to take what we could and leave. Meanwhile Gwyn was opting to enter next and with Karis’ help and more shoving, the dwarf was pressed through the window. Detheron was passing masterwork dwarven axes through to the party members as well as the metal cash box and eventually Zoltan’s unconscious body.
Gwyn was holding Karis’ lightning nullification rod and steeled himself for the pain – reaching up quick and knocking the “Blaze” battleaxe free. He got a nasty shock but caught the axe and stepped free.
With treasures in tow, we went back to the Temple of Odin and sealed the doors with spikes. Looking over our gathered goods. Karis forced the cash box opened showing us a small pile of golden coins as well as some 200 thin disks of mithril silver. Holy Crud!! The party knew this was a kingly sum and we rejoiced at our good fortune. Zoltan was awakened and the party ate and drank and got comfortable – eventually going to sleep for the night.
We awoke the next day, our 5th day underground by our reckoning, (Karis still hadn’t gotten back his powers yet) and talked about what was to happen. We wanted to get over the Chasm and into the Mausoleum doors on the north side of the hall over there to see about getting a holy symbol from a dead priest within. With the symbol, we could calm the hammer in the Thane room and then get the Runekey – the same runekey we would be able to use to open all the doors – one of which would and should be the treasure vault.
But the bridges and chasm were guarded by at least a 10 count of gnolls mounted on shocker lizards and we needed a plan to get over there. The gnolls had better vision than any of us in the dark, and if we used a light source, we would stand out like sore thumbs.
As usual with this group – fire came up. And it was a good plan. The party took all the burnable materials from both the temples of Odin and Thor: mattresses, bodies – everything. They piled it up in the Great Hall past the 3rd street and Gwyn used his fire building skills to soak it properly with oil (4 full flasks) – and then we lit it and made and WHOLE lot of noise.
We waited in the dark for only a little while before the gnolls came to investigate. Once they were there we ran in the dark hand in hand down the Great Hall, to the Chasm, crossed the bridge, and went to the closed door to the mausoleum with Odin symbols on it. Zoltan picked the lock and the party entered – the gypsy staying behind to sling the chains back through the door and making it appear it was still sealed before cloak-portalling in.
They entered a large mausoleum. The ceiling was domed 30’ over their head, the center of the room dominated by a 30’ diameter dais 3 tiers high, sporting 7 stone sarcophagi in a star pattern. Symbols to Odin abound on the coffins, their beauty and detail still visible over a century and half after they were first carved.
The walls have niches in them, 5 high and encircling the entire room, about half of them sporting dwarven skeletal remains. There was a feeling of peace in here, a sense of rest and well being.
The group was on edge – and decided to take a LONG time checking the room out. Zoltan tapped out a large area of the floor before getting to the dais – where he looked the place over with long and loving care. There were 7 dwarven priests in repose, all patriarchs to Odin, all long dead. They were identified as follows with name, date of death, and honorific:
Huroon Granitelip 134, 23rd Age Beloved of Odin
Mansheer Ironforge 129, 24th Age Seer of Visions
Tharis Ironforge 141, 25th Age Master Axesmith
Duodis Ironforge 163, 26th Age Sunderer of Chains
Baliyn Feybane 182, 27th Age Murderer of Hundreds
Feridon Ironforge 231, 28th Age Minister of Peace
Pator Deepdelve 282, 29th Age Giantbane
And then it was – now what? According to the paperwork clue we had found – we were looking for someone who stayed behind to seal up the city and summon the hammer. According to the paperwork that we had from Dargan’s Folley – we had surmised the dwarves abandoned Wodenvarelse between 150 and 160 years ago. And the current year is 174 of the 30th age. And an age is 300 years.
There were no markings on the sarcophagi that showed a symbol and the party was VERY loathe to open them and poke around. But when they did the math – they were looking for someone who was dead about year 15-25 of the 30th age – and no one in this chamber showed it.
Zoltan was looking around for any secret area or whatever – and in front of Pator’s tomb, discovered a hollow where skilled dwarves had made a hidey space. With Amal’s help, the two of them lifted the block free and uncovered some long empty skins and sacks, an old crossbow, and a thin leather quiver with 6 bolts within. A detect magic followed and 4 of the bolts showed some magic – but two of them showed tremendous magic. The party looked those two bolts over and were REALLY pleased to discover that they were Blessed bolts! Blessed bolts of Odin!
As happy as they were – they were stumped. Where was the symbol? Should they start opening tombs?
It was after some serious reading of the hints and clues and putting their heads together (and a friendly prod from the DM) there was a note in the poem that talked about the symbol being one of Thor – and this was a Mausoleum to Odin. There HAD to be one for Thor! And with the Dwarven penchant for symmetry in the design of the city – there was another doorway similar to this one across the grand hall.
But it was some 200’ away – in the dark – and the gnolls had come back. And we would have to fight our way through them. It would be difficult and most likely suicide.
So heads were put together and the group came up with a REAL ingenious plan! And yes – it involved fire!
Zoltan would drink the potion of Efreetiskin, cover himself in oil, give his equipment to the party to hold, and then drink the potion of Haste. Then he would set himself ablaze and with the wolf’s head helm on and a REAL noticeable target, would run out of the room as fast as he could and scream and weave and yell and run as fast as he could down back across the bridge and through the Great Hall, leading as many of the gnolls as he could with him.
With him acting as a diversion, the rest of us would run across the hall to the other door, open it, sneak inside, and shut it hopefully before anyone would notice we were there.
It was bold, crazy, foolish, and genius!!
And let me say, it went off as they expected. The shocker lizards could not keep up with the racing Zoltan and he led the mounted and running gnolls on a merry chase – only getting struck once by an errant bolt. Meanwhile the rest of the group charged across with only two gnolls barring the way. Gwyn shield slammed one of them, his new shield he took from the inner sanctum of the temple of Thor gave a loud SPAKOW and smacked the gnoll off his feet. Karis ran into the other who held on as tight as he could – until Amal tore him free from the half ogre and beat him about the neck with his cudgel.
Coruth’tae fired off a focused knock spell and the lock on the Thorian Mausoleum slipped free and the group ran in, shutting the door behind them. We caught our breath while Zoltan ran until his fire extinguished and then he cut left and doubled back – leaving the gnolls searching the darkness for him- his boosted speed and haste taking him swiftly back to the bridge where he crossed it and rejoined the group. We shut the door and congratulated ourselves for a good plan that worked out great.
The room was set up like the other one, except with Thorian symbols and there were only 5 sarcophagi in the center. Karis went up and read off the names as:
Curon Fireforge 162, 25th Age Opened the Way
Thundin Hammerhand 203, 26th Age Scourge of the Elves
Kanthar Trollslayer 241, 27th Age Master of the Written Word
Ulin Rockhome 274, 28th Age Dragonsbane
Iodin Ironheart 23, 30th Age Father and Friend
And there it was – Iodin’s coffin was the RIGHT priest and the RIGHT year. Karis laid his hand on the cover and shoved it to the side…and the game stopped here for the night.
The group ran into a snag - due to an unfortunate missing of a certain room across the Grand Hall, they were unaware that there were two Mausoleums flanking the area across the bridge - the north one housing Odin, and the south one housing Thor.
My rule is simple - 45 minutes. Tops. If the group can't find the clue or figure out the problem - I'm not going to force them to beat their head against the wall. I'll start handing out clues. Unless they either get it, or its obvious they aren't.
Nothing ruins a game faster than NOT being able to proceed due to some bit of lore that only the guy behind the screen is privy too, and giggling as the other 6 people around the table aren't having any fun.
So I was happy to reveal the missing clue that there was another tomb - and they took it from there. Including the plan involving potions of fire resistance, haste, screaming, and oil.
I was tempted to use the potion miscibility table - but that would have just been me being petty. :)
Write up follows:
Karis made some attempt to open a conduit to his god but Tyr was not responding to his pleas. The party was wondering what to do and how to help, but the half-ogre asked to be left alone. The rest of the group nodded and then moved on; Karis was going through the effort of gathering up all the broken and loose stonework he could find.
We decided to search out the local shops, hoping to find anything of interest or value. The first place we came to was once a swordmakers, but had been severely looted and ransacked. So we moved on to the next shop which was a weaponmakers – but it too had been picked clean over the ravages of time.
There was an axesmith’s next, with a “runelocked” door – and thought was given to opening it, but it was decided to wait for Karis as it might have something dangerous within. So we crossed the street to the only other shop with a standard marking it: the arbalests.
The place wasn’t nearly as beaten up as the other shops and the party took their time really giving the place a once over when their careful poking about disturbed a large spider. The arachnid pounced on Fodder and sunk its fangs into the war-wolf’s neck – injecting the druid’s pet with the spider’s venom. There were attempts to sweep it away or strike it, but they were not effective, until Gwyn grabbed the spider and held it – getting bit himself! While he was being attacked, Smokey came up and with a single swipe – obliterated the spider.
Detheron administered was elixirs he had to kill the poison in both the wolf and the dwarf and the rest of the party learned that there was nothing of value in the shop.
Meanwhile, while Karis was ruminating about his deeds and loss of Tyr’s blessing in his life, he was working up a sweat and thinking about his god, praying. And then he felt his consciousness elsewhere. He was in a large Heorot, the smell of peat fires and ale very strong. Warriors of all ages and of all types were gathered about the center cleared area where Karis found himself standing with a 7’ tall oddly nice looking human to his one side and a 13’ impression of the one-handed god of justice Tyr on the other.
He pled his case and Tyr listened and the other warriors and gods listened on – and Loki (the other person in the amphitheatre) was defending Karis’ actions against the goblins but Karis was not going to be tricked and stayed loyal to Tyr. Tyr told Karis that he would have to prove himself penitent for 24 hours and then he’d get his powers back. Loki told him that when Tyr was done with him, to look him up and he’d have a place for him.
Then Karis felt himself back where he was before and finished up his cairning of the goblins and praying over them. Then he walked down the hall to the party and both groups filled in the others with what they had learned so far.
Decision was made to go check out the rune locked doorway at the Axesmith as Detheron had one more stone affecting spell – and could widen one of the windows BARELY large enough for a lithe human to get through. Like Zoltan.
Our resident thief entered the shop – untouched for a century and a half. It was thick with dust but there were over 2 dozen samples of pristine dwarven axe-craftsmanship in displays all over the store. And directly over the archway was the shop’s masterpiece. This one axe that stood out. Hanging over the arch to the back portion of the shop, it is double bitted, about 4’ in length and the handle is wrapped in a strange pebbled leather as a grip. The metal is shimmering steel with wavering veins of red and orange flaring across both bits like flowing water. There is a carved dragon’s head between the bits and the shaft of the battle axe is hexagonal and turned clockwise. A number of Dwarven runes spell out the weapon’s name “Blaze” across the mirror like surface of each bit.
Zoltan wanted to give the place a once over – and like any good thief – looked for the cash box. It was still there, and he carefully pulled it out, trying to see if it would come. It did so – but in doing so, he triggered the trap and a poison dart shot out – hitting him in the wrist and he passed out.
The party waited but all they saw was Zoltan go down to get something and then nothing else. Eventually Detheron as the next smallest was voted to go in and see what had happened. He slithered through the window and Karis gave him a shove – knocking the druid forcefully through until he fell free and slammed his head into the counter. Detheron cursed the half ogre and made his way to Zoltan. He was unconscious and would need to be treated for the poison. Another precious elixir was administered and although the venom was taken from the wound, the thief was still unconscious.
So Detheron made to take the battle axe off the wall – and triggered a warding glyph – shocking himself for a sizeable amount of lightning damage and causing him to back away. After healing himself, he decided it was best to take what we could and leave. Meanwhile Gwyn was opting to enter next and with Karis’ help and more shoving, the dwarf was pressed through the window. Detheron was passing masterwork dwarven axes through to the party members as well as the metal cash box and eventually Zoltan’s unconscious body.
Gwyn was holding Karis’ lightning nullification rod and steeled himself for the pain – reaching up quick and knocking the “Blaze” battleaxe free. He got a nasty shock but caught the axe and stepped free.
With treasures in tow, we went back to the Temple of Odin and sealed the doors with spikes. Looking over our gathered goods. Karis forced the cash box opened showing us a small pile of golden coins as well as some 200 thin disks of mithril silver. Holy Crud!! The party knew this was a kingly sum and we rejoiced at our good fortune. Zoltan was awakened and the party ate and drank and got comfortable – eventually going to sleep for the night.
We awoke the next day, our 5th day underground by our reckoning, (Karis still hadn’t gotten back his powers yet) and talked about what was to happen. We wanted to get over the Chasm and into the Mausoleum doors on the north side of the hall over there to see about getting a holy symbol from a dead priest within. With the symbol, we could calm the hammer in the Thane room and then get the Runekey – the same runekey we would be able to use to open all the doors – one of which would and should be the treasure vault.
But the bridges and chasm were guarded by at least a 10 count of gnolls mounted on shocker lizards and we needed a plan to get over there. The gnolls had better vision than any of us in the dark, and if we used a light source, we would stand out like sore thumbs.
As usual with this group – fire came up. And it was a good plan. The party took all the burnable materials from both the temples of Odin and Thor: mattresses, bodies – everything. They piled it up in the Great Hall past the 3rd street and Gwyn used his fire building skills to soak it properly with oil (4 full flasks) – and then we lit it and made and WHOLE lot of noise.
We waited in the dark for only a little while before the gnolls came to investigate. Once they were there we ran in the dark hand in hand down the Great Hall, to the Chasm, crossed the bridge, and went to the closed door to the mausoleum with Odin symbols on it. Zoltan picked the lock and the party entered – the gypsy staying behind to sling the chains back through the door and making it appear it was still sealed before cloak-portalling in.
They entered a large mausoleum. The ceiling was domed 30’ over their head, the center of the room dominated by a 30’ diameter dais 3 tiers high, sporting 7 stone sarcophagi in a star pattern. Symbols to Odin abound on the coffins, their beauty and detail still visible over a century and half after they were first carved.
The walls have niches in them, 5 high and encircling the entire room, about half of them sporting dwarven skeletal remains. There was a feeling of peace in here, a sense of rest and well being.
The group was on edge – and decided to take a LONG time checking the room out. Zoltan tapped out a large area of the floor before getting to the dais – where he looked the place over with long and loving care. There were 7 dwarven priests in repose, all patriarchs to Odin, all long dead. They were identified as follows with name, date of death, and honorific:
Huroon Granitelip 134, 23rd Age Beloved of Odin
Mansheer Ironforge 129, 24th Age Seer of Visions
Tharis Ironforge 141, 25th Age Master Axesmith
Duodis Ironforge 163, 26th Age Sunderer of Chains
Baliyn Feybane 182, 27th Age Murderer of Hundreds
Feridon Ironforge 231, 28th Age Minister of Peace
Pator Deepdelve 282, 29th Age Giantbane
And then it was – now what? According to the paperwork clue we had found – we were looking for someone who stayed behind to seal up the city and summon the hammer. According to the paperwork that we had from Dargan’s Folley – we had surmised the dwarves abandoned Wodenvarelse between 150 and 160 years ago. And the current year is 174 of the 30th age. And an age is 300 years.
There were no markings on the sarcophagi that showed a symbol and the party was VERY loathe to open them and poke around. But when they did the math – they were looking for someone who was dead about year 15-25 of the 30th age – and no one in this chamber showed it.
Zoltan was looking around for any secret area or whatever – and in front of Pator’s tomb, discovered a hollow where skilled dwarves had made a hidey space. With Amal’s help, the two of them lifted the block free and uncovered some long empty skins and sacks, an old crossbow, and a thin leather quiver with 6 bolts within. A detect magic followed and 4 of the bolts showed some magic – but two of them showed tremendous magic. The party looked those two bolts over and were REALLY pleased to discover that they were Blessed bolts! Blessed bolts of Odin!
As happy as they were – they were stumped. Where was the symbol? Should they start opening tombs?
It was after some serious reading of the hints and clues and putting their heads together (and a friendly prod from the DM) there was a note in the poem that talked about the symbol being one of Thor – and this was a Mausoleum to Odin. There HAD to be one for Thor! And with the Dwarven penchant for symmetry in the design of the city – there was another doorway similar to this one across the grand hall.
But it was some 200’ away – in the dark – and the gnolls had come back. And we would have to fight our way through them. It would be difficult and most likely suicide.
So heads were put together and the group came up with a REAL ingenious plan! And yes – it involved fire!
Zoltan would drink the potion of Efreetiskin, cover himself in oil, give his equipment to the party to hold, and then drink the potion of Haste. Then he would set himself ablaze and with the wolf’s head helm on and a REAL noticeable target, would run out of the room as fast as he could and scream and weave and yell and run as fast as he could down back across the bridge and through the Great Hall, leading as many of the gnolls as he could with him.
With him acting as a diversion, the rest of us would run across the hall to the other door, open it, sneak inside, and shut it hopefully before anyone would notice we were there.
It was bold, crazy, foolish, and genius!!
And let me say, it went off as they expected. The shocker lizards could not keep up with the racing Zoltan and he led the mounted and running gnolls on a merry chase – only getting struck once by an errant bolt. Meanwhile the rest of the group charged across with only two gnolls barring the way. Gwyn shield slammed one of them, his new shield he took from the inner sanctum of the temple of Thor gave a loud SPAKOW and smacked the gnoll off his feet. Karis ran into the other who held on as tight as he could – until Amal tore him free from the half ogre and beat him about the neck with his cudgel.
Coruth’tae fired off a focused knock spell and the lock on the Thorian Mausoleum slipped free and the group ran in, shutting the door behind them. We caught our breath while Zoltan ran until his fire extinguished and then he cut left and doubled back – leaving the gnolls searching the darkness for him- his boosted speed and haste taking him swiftly back to the bridge where he crossed it and rejoined the group. We shut the door and congratulated ourselves for a good plan that worked out great.
The room was set up like the other one, except with Thorian symbols and there were only 5 sarcophagi in the center. Karis went up and read off the names as:
Curon Fireforge 162, 25th Age Opened the Way
Thundin Hammerhand 203, 26th Age Scourge of the Elves
Kanthar Trollslayer 241, 27th Age Master of the Written Word
Ulin Rockhome 274, 28th Age Dragonsbane
Iodin Ironheart 23, 30th Age Father and Friend
And there it was – Iodin’s coffin was the RIGHT priest and the RIGHT year. Karis laid his hand on the cover and shoved it to the side…and the game stopped here for the night.
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