Snuggle Nook

Underground Home-Grown Crew III

The Second Generation

by Maxen » Sat Oct 23, 2010 9:12 pm
Okay, so here we go, drop-kick for a fresh party, the next generation. The sons and the daughters of Snuggle Nook’s Underground Home-grown crew.

Note: In the H.M. system one may opt to roll-up a new character using the gene-pool method whereby (providing one had children in the last game) his new character may inherit the stats, talent etc. from his previous character (blended, merged, mixed with t’other partner, of course).

Seeing as Saemus and Maud McFinnigan had a family, in-character, in-game I hasten to add: they may, of-course, have some of their stats back, however, at the time Maud had died through trying to ingest the brain of a baby-green dragon, and had been brought back with Berenger’s Diminished Rite spell (which lessened her stats and abilities for the marriage and subsequent honeymoon). So. Saemus Jr. (Shaemus O’Finnigan the Second, or II) is now on the scene. A new, level one Half-elf Mage/Thief (Half-wood elf, I might add).

Then of course Berenger did it with that ho in the strip-dancing joint in Snuggle-Soho. He had a little one, a sprog, so is running Berenger Jr. (or Berenger II), a hobbit from Snuggleshire, proud son of the Priest of Yondall’ (the hobbit fertility gawdess, hence the doos with the broad in that mens-club, in accordance with his religious beliefs). Anyhow. He’s running a Druid, should be good.

Ironhand is pencilled-in to play a warrior of some sort.

by Maxen » Thu Oct 28, 2010 7:53 pm
McFinnigan Jr. (a certain Miss Maggie McFinnigan from Fang’) and her companion Paco Jay Meander, walked along the road south of the Shire, towards the village of Milborne. Along their way they met a portly old man named Gorander, who required someone to deliver a chest of materials, weighing 20 pounds or so, to a fellow sage in the town of Thurmeister. Seeing as the town is some hundred and fifty miles south of here, the whole journey would take roughly eight days or so,what at the pace of the pack-animals (donkeys), three days to the village of Milborne, and another five to Thurmeister. The two elven magickers accepted. After enquiring what was inside the contents of the chest, Gorander explained that t’was spell components, giving away the fact he was a fellow practitioner of the arcane arts. Gorander the Wizard explained that the chest is sealed, magickally, that ‘tis warded with harmful glyphs;the old man implored the to elves to resist the temptation of opening the cargo-chest they are charged to deliver. The duo accepted. Paco bartered the reward price from 150 Gold Pennies (half-crowns) up to 180 G.p. after some smooth talking, he also managed to rince him for 5 G.p.’s worth of expenses for himself, and get Gorander to cough up half of the money up-front, the other on successful delivery of the goods.

Without further ado, the two protagonists set off. Paco, the black-elf (drow) death-mage (necromantic sole-practitioner, exterminator in the Wizard’s book). Paco-Jay Meander is from a common black-elf working class family, his family humble, ordinary people. The meek of black-elf under-earth; from a broken home in the north-country, ‘neath Hardcastle-Craggs, which is found a stones-throw from the Tandall-hills. Here’s his character sheet:

With him was the renowned Maggie McFinnigan, Mage/Thief. Rogue-Wizard of the O’Finnigan clan legacy, extraordinary, extremely well-known family, infamous (initial Fame-Factor: 126). Maggie weighs-in at 120 lbs (that’s pounds, in weight, to all jolly foreigners), she’s a tall half-elven lady, clearing well-over six feet tall.

So the two elven wizards (well, one half-elven, and also the heir of a leprechaun; and he’s only half-mage, half-thief, on account of her being multi-classed and all). They failed to notice the guy at the back going for his sword, nor the guy reaching for his blade in the foreground, so, I ruled (as Grift-Meister) that this bypassed their surprised roll and wham! The would-be agriculturalist’s attacked! However, as I’m a bit of a softie, I let them roll for initiative (which turned out to be a big mistake, they went last.) Paco-Jay went to hit them with his stick (which considering the guy’s a wizard and didn’t have staves proficiency) meant he was wide of the mark. Maggie threw three darts at the guys, stitching him up royally! The ‘farmers’ fought back, hitting poor Maggie for six (again, cricket term, not number of H.P.), barley a scratch. Paco decided to run away as they spied two more archers closing in from the tree-line. He took an attack of opportunity for his troubles (two actually, one hit). Then Maggie decided to cast Sleep. He took three attacks of opportunity, they all missed!! His Sleep spell hit all of the bad-guys, they all failed their saving-throws and bam! Every bad-dude was on the deck, sleeping like babies. Paco (valiantly) returned to the fight (good job too as he woulda lost a shed load of Honour for fleeing from a fight and not returning if he hadn’t come back to the field. ANYway. Maggie started looting the bodies, Paco cast Grease and downed Maggie. One of the bad-guys came to and made his second save, up and at ‘em! Boom! Another hit to Maggie, another round and the bad-guy was down, greased up, propa style. Paco started slittng throats, as did Maggie, they managed to get three of them before the spell expired. The ’farmers’ failed their morale check, and fled, Maggie threw a dart, it missed, he threw another (at maximum range, equal to his strength in this case) and I pointed out that he had very little chance of hitting the fleeing baddie at that range, he went for it anyway, he juuuust made it and the flying dark hit the ‘farmer’ in the neck as he legged it away from the two mages. Here endeth the session. Maggie got the MVP award, and some for heroic spell-casting (hand-to-hand). Until the next time. The Mac-attack.

by Maxen » Mon Nov 15, 2010 12:52 pm

REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY SESSION

Well, here we have the next session. Two of the Home-Grown crew were here, namely Paco-Jay Meander meets Morris Baggins (a.k.a. Beren’junior). I’ll uploaded a copy of the hobbit Druid’s character-sheet soon-ish.

With their pony and wagon in-tow, the newly formed duo are tailed by the [N.P.C.] Maggie McFinnigan (played by yours truly – the Grift-Meister). En route to the village of Milborne, the next generation home-grown crew met a lone farmer, unfamiliar to them. A kind but simple soul, the agriculturist generously gave advise (in a broad west-county accent, which caused a few laughs). He told them of wild rumours, about how the mayor of Milborne’s daughter, t’was rumoured that she has been missing for some time. The two player-characters asked the aging man to shed any light on the identity of the bandits that have been troubling these roads of late. The old man said that folks in these ’ere parts believed them to be local, but that their leader came from beneath the surface of the earth. He also kindly gave them some horse-feed from his wagon, upon hearing that they had vanquished the robbers, who were out to give farming folk a bad name in Haranshire. The men who tilde the soil and fish the waters are good-natured countrymen. Not thieves and cut-throats, as one may find rife within cities. They parted ways amicably and continued on with their quest, to reach the wizard known as Tauster, in the town of Thurmaster, and to deliver their charge to him.

The next couple of days were quiet, not so much as a hitch. Then, on the third day, while only half a days ride to the village of Milborne, came a group of sinister figures, further up ahead on the road. They were the very same “farmers” Paco had met, a few days ago. With a new leader, and a couple of new members. The group were surprised, by the men some one-hundred and fifty yards in the distance. (This was very unlucky indeed. Paco needed anything but a one or a two on a D10: failure! Morris needed anything but a one: again he failed his surprise roll! Unlucky guys!)

A pair of arrows flew forth from the trees. One struck Morris, wounding him badly. Another hit Maggie, who was already heavily wounded from the previous encounter (neither Mage had healing, and they’d only just bumped into Morris the Druid.) Paco bravely closed the distance, running ahead of Morris, who was already charging towards the bandits. P.J. attempted to subdue one of them, by coshing him over the head with his quarterstaff, while adroitly swinging about a small tree. He successfully did so, causing the robber a lone point of temporary sub-dual damage. Anyhow, the “farmers” fought back, two of them engaging Paco in hand to hand combat. Both assailants missed. However, one of the two archers took steady aim, and wham! Rolled a natural twenty, getting an open-ended dice roll on his critical roll, making it a severity level nineteen crit’ to Morris’s right hand! Nasty! The hobbit didn’t slip into unconsciousness, but felt he was soon to bleed to death, such was the severity of the wound, combined with his expert healing knowledge. The druid took action, he immediately started casting Cure Minor Injury to stop the blood loss. Another arrow flew out and hit the hobbit. Luckily Morris the Druid had taken the Concentration talent. He needed a fifteen or more on a twenty-sider to make it. He rolled fifteen!! Amazing! Though he only healed himself for a single point of damage, the magickal healing stopped the loss of blood, gushing out from his mangled hand. Paco, swung around again, kicking the same bandit again with a wild kick to his kidneys. Although he failed to knock the robber out, he did strike a glancing-blow which messed-up his hair at least (so far he had done four points of damage, and three of those were only temporary). The bandits struck back, both missing him wildly. Arrows flew. Maggie stayed back, out of harms way. Even so, she took an arrow in the gullet, taking her down to only seven hit-points! Morris cast a couple of Entangle spells, snaring two then three of the enemies. Maggie cast two Sleep spells making one of them fall out of the tree, taking falling damage; and another bad-guys fell asleep due to Maggie’s magick. The still sleeping archer who fell from the tree lost his bow up the branches. Another fell asleep right next to Paco, who pulled no punches, smacking the assailant with his staff (attack of opportunity). Then he struck again, this time against the other one. Direct hit! More damage done. The lone bandit failed his morale check. Despite another attack of opportunity that Paco hit with, he made it away alive.

It wasn’t long before the duo (of player-characters) began to interrogate the ringleader. He sang like tweety-pie. Then, when he wouldn’t reveal his employer’s identity, a G.W. Bush style orange jump-suit interrogation technique from Paco-Jay (i.e. he smacked him about the head with a short sharp jab of his quaterstaff!) meant the bandit leader was singing like a canary once again. Giving up the information, that a priest known as Raefus had paid him to ambush them, twice.

Then, Morris saw movement in the trees. Some wolves. Also a Druidic glyph carved into a tree reading “come this way”. They followed the direction of the marker, only to find an attractive wild-woman. After discussing what to do with the captured “farmers”, the duo left the Druidess Oleanne, after responding to her suggestion of releasing the locals, the prisoners they’d captured; apart from the ringleader) headed into Milborne, met Oleannes accomplice Garyld the Ranger, who furnished them with some arrows. The two also met the mayor, who, as it turned-out didn’t loose his daughter, t’was in actual fact some local guy. After a kind of kangaroo court, bringing the ringleader to justice (imprisoned) the guys moved out to the tavern, had a hot meal and a bath. Paco began to busk and made his singing check. Morris and he moved onwards with the quest the following morning. Here endeth the session…

by Maxen » Wed Nov 24, 2010 8:04 pm
Back to the Hack: Snuggle Nook Style

Maggie McFinnigan met Tehlu Aguna, a “male” fighter wearing an odd looking hat, in the Baron of Mutton tavern, Milborne. Looking around they found some guy, Tehlu used “his” charm con-man ability to persuade the bloke, while Maggie used her pick-pockets rogue skill. She passed, pilfering a sieve from about the mark. A quick flash of eyelashes and running a suggestive hand through her brown hair, Maggie seduced the feller, getting him to follow her outside. Tehlu shadowed the couple, into a dark alleyway. The bloke tried to fondle the hill-folk (half-elf) lady, while she recoiled, cast Sleep, then slew the bloke, robbing him swiftly afterwards. They didn’t find much on him, a few coins, and some mundane items. However, in the spoils Maggie found a wizard’s scroll of Magick Missile Reflection. Feeling good at the diabolic yet fortuitous deeds the duo had done, they decided to try their luck once more, re-entering the Baron of Mutton tavern; to work scams, and fleece then waste the already wasted clientele. The second mark was a wise-guy nonchalantly smoking a camden carrot (twifter, spoocher) in the corner, despite repeated attempts at conning then seducing the chap, our two protagonists failed to rince this bloke, who saw through their scam, stood up, and sat himself down at the bar. The wise-guy started speaking to the barman, who chuckled and looked over at the pair of women in the corner. (By now Tehlu had used her Hat of Disguise to change back to her original female form). Just then, a conicial helmeted watch-sergeant strode into the tavern, asking about whosoever had been seen in the company of John Bull. The bartender and wise-guy both pointed the finger at the infamous Maggie McFinnigan (-126 Infamy rating!!). Pretending to come quietly, Maggie played into the hands of watch-sergeant Grissom. Adriotly she cast a Sleep spell knocking out the entire pub full of people! All except for Sgt. Grissom and the bartender/mayor. Before you knew what was happening, the battle was joined. Tehlu went into ‘Karate-Kid Crane style’ stance. The mayor went for her,scoring a hit taking off a solitary single hit-point, but t’was enough to Tehlu to gain +5 temporal Honour (a stat’ exclusive to the magnificent Hack-Master system). Anyhow. Maggie laid in there, calling on his deity Hilter, a natural twenty!! Only a severity level five critical hit to the hip, but he seriously wounded the watch-sergeant. Meanwhile a sleeping cook had spilled his frying pan, full off eggs and oil. setting himself on fire! The cook ran around like a mad thing, trying to put the flames out, the fire spread to the side-board, and caught fast, filling the place with acrid smoke! Tehlu moved, striking the mayor, kicking the level four warrior’s behind, knocking him for six! The two gals went wild, Maggie scored another hit, wounding the other level four guy (Sgt. Grissom) for a shed-load of damage. Neither guardsman nor mayor managed to score a single hit on the pair! The two really whooped some establishment buttocks, slaying both level four fighters with seeming ease! (Both players were only level one!) The two looted the bodies quickly then swiftly made their escape through the burning kitchen, ignoring the flaming chef. The other patrons were starting to wake now. Too late! Tehlu and Maggie stole some horses then made it the hell outta there! Heading for the hills. Riding off into the sunset at breakneck speed! What an encounter!

As the two women rode away, they looked back from the hillside to see an entire quarter of Milborne in flames. The fire had spread to the jetty. Panic ensued. With her keen hill-folk (half-elven) vision, Maggie McFinnigan could see villagers, scurrying like ants, trying to put the fire out. The two holed up in some woods, and tried to get some sleep. After only an hour of shut-eye, the two were awoken by a whole train of angry villagers, led by Garyld the ranger, who’d tracked them to their hideout. Tehlu rose the sleeping Maggie and pointed her attention to the snake-like trail of torches approaching there position, The two ladies abandoned their camp and high-tailed it the hell outta there! They had an inspired idea. Circling the angry mob, the two rode around their position and headed back into the village of Milborne.

Upon approach windows were shut very quickly, the whole town avoided them. Maggie used her wall-climbing rogue abilities to scale the temple’s sheer surface. It began to rain. Entering the vestry Maggie tried to sneak past the sleeping priest to unlock the treasure chest at the foot of his bed. She failed. So Maggie slew the sleeping priest before bashing the chest open, it’s contents spilled across the floor. Maggie gathered them up and left, sharpish. The two girls set fire to the temple, then rode outta there.

Heading south, they crossed the river to the next village of Haraldston. On the way, they happened upon a lone farmstead where they met another ranger, by the name of Kupier (this dude was level six). They invited the fellow for a drink. The trio rode into town together, grabbed a flagon of ale each with some apple-brandy chasers. Both Maggie and Tehlu feigned downing theirs while Kupier drank round after round. The two wenches plied this guy with drinks, Maggie also slipped him some catagory J poison, as he failed roll after to roll (both against poison, strong drink and to notice what the other two were doing), Kupier keeled over. Bought the farm. Maggie cast her final Sleep spell for the day, knocking out the rest of the clientele before torching the place, after ransacking the bodies of course, They found magickal leather armour, a magick dagger, a potion of extra-healing as well as some more unidentified magickal stuff.

So anyway, Maggie ended up making the shift from Chaotic-Neutral to Chaotic-Evil, Tehlu (in an attempt to stave off the inevitable) gave all her ill-gotten gains to charity. She remains Chaotic-Good. What with all the slaying of relatively high-level heroes, the characters were on the Exp. gravy-train. Maggie made level two (in her thief side). I also have a write up of the WFRP session to do. Until the next time. The Mac-attack.

by Maxen » Mon Dec 06, 2010 9:37 pm
Meanwhile…Morris the hobbit and Paco-Jay Meadri slept in the Baron of Mutton tavern, Milborne. They awoke to the smell of acrid smoke, rapidly filling up their room. Quickly making a makeshift rope out of the bed-clothes, they descended hastily into the courtyard. The two heroes were told by locals that Maggie McFinnigan and Tehlu Aguna were holed up in a forest, north-east of Haraldston. Garlyd the ranger, along with the village priest as well as Morris Baggins and Paco-Jay Meadri led the search party, a rowdy mob of villagers, baying for the blood of the two outlaws. Morris took a job with the church (a non-exclusive and polythestic pantheon), seeing as they had very few priests. Brother Beethor had a vision one night of the church being burnt-down. This vision came to pass. Following the destruction of the temple, the two heroes of the hour: namely Morris and Paco-J’, followed the tracks that the duo of femme fatales made, right up to the slope where the two camped. Paco-Jay the Death-mage cast Throw Voice to say “Come on out, with your hands held high!” to which a seemingly male voice (Tehlu) replied, “Yeah right!”. Maggie McFinnigan rode away to the relative safety of the trees, the feint clip-clop of her horse could be heard, disappearing into the darkness. Meanwhile, a crowd of angry villagers chased the hill-folk (half-elf) villain into the bushes. Only Garyld the Ranger, the priest, and our two heroes stood to face Tehlu. Morris cast Entangle, snaring the lady-charlatan. Who, immediately transformed into an innocent-looking small boy, using her Hat of Disguise, (s)he then starting using ‘his’ con-man ability to squeeze his way out of the jam. It didn’t wash, both Paco-Jay and the local layman rolled critical successes (natural 20 on an ability score check – old skool, equal or under). Anyway, they didn’t fall for it. Paco-Jay started climbing the tree, hauling ropes up to a lofty branch, with the intention of dropping rocks down on the boy-arsonist.

Here came a tear in the very fabric of un-reality, Grift-Meister Hannibal the Hardcore entered the sesh. He ran his local game – which was amazing by the way. More on his write-up later. Some time past, then we were back to cases. Morris went back into town ‘called by nature’ to spend some time alone in the wilderness, to commune with his deity ‘Ki’ (ancient Sumerian nature gawd). He then went about his clerical duties, helping rebuild the local church of Tyr. Mixing up cement (made up of egg-whites, yeast and portlun stone), Brother Beethor helped with the rebuilding process, under the watchful eye of (now an N.P.C. for the moment, run by yours truly).

Meanwhile, Paco-Jay Meadri – the Deathmage – is just about to lower a twenty lbs rock on to Tehlu’s head, when the {N.P.C.} ranger and the priest decide that t’was best that the law handle this, that he is to be apprehended, taken back to town, given a fair-hearing then to let the ruling Carmen and Palfrey landed-gentry decide what t’was best to do. The Grift-Meister would step-in set them back on track, before the home-brew crew tore itself apart again.

On there way back from the forest, the group were set upon by a band of angry looking orcs! Only Tehlu Aguna and Paco-Jay alone stood up to this onslaught, they hid up a tree (where they had previously said they were sleeping as a matter of fact), threw sticks down at the roving band of orcses. The green-skins tried to climb the base of the tree. Paco-J whacked the nearest one with his staff. Tehlu shouted “Use your spells WIzard!”, Paco-Jay climbed up and away, he then cast Grease which meant that all but one of the five advancing orcs fell flat down to the ground. Anyhow, the Druidess came in and finished them off, as the duo waited for the spell to expire. They tried to climb the branches around the greasy parts of the treetrunk. Anyhow, t’was over. They moved on.

Once back in town: the disguised Tehlu stood trial, had a dressing down, a rap on the knuckles, then was released due to lack of evidence. Miss Aguna was however, still a suspect with regard to the recent spate of crimes, shenanigans that had transpired. Which, coincidentally, went almost hand in hand with other local rumours of a recent spate of kidnappings, banditry and the flooding of the Marshen-Mooreland near here. Rumours of roving death-dawgs, diabolic feral canines, who roam the moors after dark. The home-brew boys were charged with putting a stop to local banditry, cleaning out the moors, and most importantly, find out what is behind the flooding on Marshenmire. T’was said to be some dark magick. Money was accepted, bartered for, then exchanged with regard to promise later on of more coin.

They left the courthouse. After doing some shopping, identifying then trading a few key items by a wandering wizard (Tauster) who offered to sell his magick-Ring of Protection+3. The home-brew boys couldn’t afford it, so they sauntered on, into town. T’was a bleak and dreary place and scene before them. The fishermen all downcast at the loss of their livelihood. The destruction of the wharf, jetty and south-east part of town. Opposite the street, in the Centredistrict lay the charred remains of the village pub, the Baron of Mutton, it’s adjoining out-buildings, also burned to charred timbers. Paco-Jay tried for an untrained skill-check of Rousing Speech, he only just made it! Like Avatar, Wallace or more like a Mediaeval Dog Day Afternoon, the Death-Wizard managed to talk them into action – with his wooden wheel-barrow of wood-working tools, he helped the people to rebuild their lives. Maggie then appeared, all the window shutters were closed, like dominos, all down the street. A comely hill-folk princess: little-miss Maggie McFinnigan (the second) came into view, apart from the fishermen under the watchful eye of Paco-Jay Junior, everyone hid or fled. At that, business was concluded and they began to head out of town. With no particular place to go (queue guitar riff) they headed outta town. At this point, the Home-brew boys were nicely toasted, as they had been all day, off their heads on the shire’s finest hobbit-pipeweed, Blitzed. As they say. They headed out to scout the moorland…

In the forest, on the prowl, in a clearing nestled within the darkwoods, the spindly clawed fingers of branches, overgrown with dense vegetation, a light could be seen in the distance. In the clearing sat upon a rock was the mystic from the village – Tauster, his staff glowing dimly in the night, moths and insects playing about it, as he rose from the lodestone. “Greetings fellow traveller.” said Tauster the Wizard. “I look and see you sorcerer, I see your path.” said the frosty Druidess, her wolves were quiet, passing all about her. Oleanna continued, “Have you the dweomer we spoke of, Wizard?” “But of course, m’ilady.”, sneering a portly expression, he handed her the scroll. “Well it’s of no use to me!”, exclaimed the Druidess. “You’ll have to cast it.” “Very well madam”, replied the old man before sparking up a wizard-wood pipe, of hobbit variety. “A moment to gather myself.” Tauster hesitated, before putting his pipe-down beside him, he blew out smoke-rings which lit, blues, reds and yellow, swirling in speed as his chanting increased. Tauster’s hands started spinning, in-time with the smoke-light rings; then came a flash of light and tada! From his dying pipesmoke, came a forth the etheral, wispy form of late Kupier the ranger, his spirit of the forest formed like a genii from a lamp. The two magickers spaek to the otherworld spirit, trying to glean knowledge of what may be important…

After the ceremony Tauster took off, the home-brew crew came along to the clearing. Oleanna emerged, before the three players. Telling them of a wounded village boy who’s contracted a hereditary condition of lycanthropy. The afraid tweenage boy changed into bear-form on the last full-moon and hasn’t changed back. She asks the home-grown crew to not hurt the boy but help them capture him alive, that she may be able to calm him, help the lad understand what is happening. The Druidess told the home-brew boys about her efforts to track any trace of the werebear, that Oldeanna had found him wounded, wandering about the place. He seemed to be following the river. They agreed to help her, formulated a plan involving a lame donkey sympathy trap, lure the ‘beast’ with old Wonky as bait, then bash it’s head and put it down with spells. Oleanna found it with her tracking spellstuff abilities, her wolves initiating the attack, then Tehlu immediately took off all his (well, her) armour, put down his (her) weapons, then waded in there. The others stayed back as Oleanna tried to draw it’s attacks, she took a hit for her trouble. Tehlu used her Martial Arts: Fung-Chi style skill-set to whoop some, she missed, three times. Paco Jay tried to subdue the lycanthrope-boy, with little-more success than her fellow home-grown crewmember’s attempt. Maggie waded in there with her club, a fumble! Her club broke. The wounded wearbear struck back, it’s paws and maw slashing a few of them. Paco-Jay back-tracked then cast Disable Hand which put the beasts’ south paw out of commission. Tehlu smacked the thing, caining him bad with the flurry of Eagle-Claw Martial Art’s Special Maneuver (Hack-Master rules okay!). The Druidess cast an Entangle spell and everyone calmed down, healed up, soothing words were exchanged by the Druid temptress.

Anyhow, the group went on to the town of Thurmeister, home of the Wizard Tauster. There they met Count Carmen, they were commissioned to escort a river-boat barge down river, back to Milborne. The group sold up some stuff, stocked up on supplies, then were summoned to the manor house, the Caerman mansion. There, the young son of the noble wanted to meet the adventurers, fascinated about their heroic (or rather anti-hero like) deeds. Adventures. He asked to join-up with the crew. Much to his father’s dismay, who didn’t approve of the exploits. Tehlu said that t’was the boys decision, if he wanted to come with them. The crew left, with the young esquire, and a sharp look of disapproval from the eighteen year old boy’s family. Anyhow, they headed on down the river… After meeting the barge-man, flanked by two warriors either side of him. Awat t’was a pleasant one, amidst the misty morning they set-off downstream. But then river ran fast, faster than usual. A wind kicked up so they decided to moor at the next jetty. T’wasn’t far. They moored up for the night. Then came a howl of one of the crew-men. Waking everybody, one of the two fighters was uniting the Santa-Maria from her tender. The other woken warrior followed suit, Tehlu, up and about in her nightgown started doing the same. Before long, what with all hands on deck, the Santa Maria cast off in good time. With the speed of the river now raging. She flowed downstream fast, followed by someone in a glider,gaining on the speeding barge, fast. The wind tore against them, the barge was traveling backwards downstream. Paco Jay took immediate action, helping the barge-man right the tiller against the current-flow. They managed to right the craft. The glider-rider landed upstream, he began casting Hold Person on one of the hired henchmen fighters. He fell overboard and went to davey-joneses locker. (Why are pirates called pirates: ‘Cos they arrrr….hehehe, anyway, where were we: oh yes. We were being chased downstream by some nasty men. The dark-priest began handing out potions to his crew, two of his lackeys took to the air after ingesting a dose of flying potion each. The same happened the following round, until Mr. Glider-Rider took to the air once more. The thieves and warriors surrounding the crew closed in. Maggie used her darts adoitly. Tehlu had the barge-man reloading a spare crossbow from the fallen warrior from inside the boat, taking shots from out of a port-hole. The thieves retaliated with crossbow shots of their own. Missing the mark. Paco Jay burned Maggie with a Burning Hands spell, also hitting several of the bad-guys. The dark-priest Draygor cast Silence 15 foot Radius, to no avail, as Maggie had the Voiceless Casting Silent-spell Talent. The bandits closed. Maggie fumbled again! Just at the wrong moment. The dark-priest Draygor waded in there hand to hand. One of the evil-warriors struck Paco Jay for a severity level four critical to the hip. Savage. Tehlu fumbled aswell. It was only after Maggie and Tehlu put down some serious hand to hand wallopings, Tehlu brandished dual scimitars, caining the bad-guys. Maggie had a staff just whacking them. Paco-Jay jumped ship. As did the evil-ones, under cover of Darkness. Just as they were running away, Maggie scored a critical on one of them with her attack of opportunity, with the follow-through damage system in place she actually wasted three of the fleeing bandits in one foul-swoop! (They were on low hit points at this moment, hence the failed morale check: flight thang) Anyhow. The heroes patched-up, cleaned up, then dreged the river for bodies. T’was not shallow, this far downstream, so they found loads of magick-loot, just basic weapons and armour, etc. The boy came from out from underneath the stowaway place at the start of the voyage, just as the crew came into town. He youth told them of the tale of the Keep, Broken-Tower, within the realm. Anyhow, the guys completed the mission. Count Palfrey had Count Carmen waiting. The players agreed to relinquish the boy, much to his family’s appreciation. It was tense for a while.

So here it was. Tehlu is now officially a Level Two Charlatan (Con-man package). Maggie is Level 3/2 Rogue/Wizard. Paco is a Level 2 Deathmage (a.k.a.Exterminator) and Morris Baggins is a Level 2 Druid.

by Maxen » Tue Dec 21, 2010 4:35 pm
New Face on the Scene – Blue Blood

Grift-Meister’s Campaign Log for the on-going Snuggle Nook adventure.

Despite the cold-weather (in real-life), with people arriving at different times, others leaving as players arrived, this weeks Grift-Meister (Hannibal) being snowed-in, Paco-Jay also not being able to make it, meant we were thin on the ground for players. However, we did get a game in, Snuggle-Nook style. With me in the story-teller’s seat, we resumed play as normal…

While Paco-Jay went back to the village of Milborne, to oversee the renovation of the burned little town, his companion, Morris the hobbit druid did much the same. Helping with the reparations made to the scorched temple. (These two were N.P.C.’s for this session – though I hasten to add that Morris, in real-life made it round for a network Battle-field: Vietnam game, which was fun for a time. While the new-player rolled up his character.) Alas, even the mysterious Tehlu was unable to meet his companion Maggie McFinnigan, he too aided the reconstruction of the town. Masquerading as a butch labourer, Tehlu was motived by a need to right a wrong. Her guilty concionce compelling her to redress the balance, a penance through good old-fashioned hard-work, elbow grease.

Maggie McFinnigan however, wandered through the Færie-Forest, north east of Thurmeister town. The infamous half-elven renegade-sorceress (Mage/Thief) made her way through the glades and wooded, inhabited by the little people, pixie-kin, færie-folk and even a sprite or two. Maggie happened upon a stranger, wandering through the woods. A tall looking lady, a grey-elf, sporting a mane of black hair, with a streak of white that seemed to glow, to radiate magickal power and presence. (Andurian Bloodmark.) Maggie recognised the noble-woman, as princess Sophia of Eltharion, heir to the throne of Æthyr, third in line for the throne. “Mi’lady.”, said Sophia to Maggie in the elfæn tongue. “Sophia Sovereignsson I presume? How do you do?” “Well-met. I am indeed she, and you must be Margret of the clan McFinnigan the second: your reputation preceeds you.” Maggie grinned a wicked smile and whispered “Indeed it does.” “What brings you out here in the woods” Maggie brings Sophia up-to speed on what was happening. The need to bring about a stop to the flooding of Marshenmire. Also the quest to investigate the whereabouts of the missing Jenneleth – the wizards apprentice; as well as other abducted folk in the area. Not only that, but their remained the question of finding the (airborne) bandit-gang, that ambushed them on the river.

So they went a-wandering in the woods, the Færie-Forest. As it so happened, the two came across a lone wild draft horse, high-spirited it was. Her royal highness Sophie of Eltharion went to calm the beast, and with a successful Animal Handling check made, the level one battle-mage/princess enticed her first N.P.C. beast of burden. Sophia also had her faithful elven war-dawg, Tœfu; from starting with the Animal Companion talent. Anyway, aside from befriending equines, the two princesses also stumbled upon a lone hobbit, walking through the woods. Hailing them as friends it was the lone [N.P.C.] Berenger Baggins, captain of the Santa Maria III, and local Patriarch. He healed then blessed the player-characters after chatting idly, saying something about looking for his son, and telling them he was headed to the Baron of Mutton tavern. Maggie bade him good luck on that one. (As we all know, that was levelled not so long ago by Maggie and Tehlu!)

Then, about a day or so of adventuring later, the two royals saw the silhouette of a large figure, in plate-armour, standing under the roots of an enormous tree. In a well-spoken typical Anglyn accent, the figure called out, “Ho there! Who art thou?” As he stepped forward into the light, the huge nine-feet tall enigma turned out to be a troll! A civilized troll (a.k.a. a glamour troll), dressed in a bright red tabard, emblazoned with a golden lion-rampant; who bantered with the home-grown crew about this and that. Sheathed his two-handed sword, and invited the ladies in for a spot of tea. They accepted cautiously, but exchanged pleasantries with the rather eccentric troll. After pondering whether to try and slay him or not, Maggie eventually took up his offer of being a henchman for the two wandering wizards, in exchange for a third share of any booty. A new fellowship was formed. The two royal elven magickers now had some serious protection. Merkin is his name, he became Maggie’s henchman for the time being.

They informed Merkin on what they were up-to, and proceeded, without further ado, to the cave, where the monsters were last seen. Merkin went first, some high-pitched squeeking could be heard, then calm-ish grumbling sounds. A gathering of goblins, a whole crowd of them now, maybe thirty or more were audible as the N.P.C. troll-kin spoke to them in Undercommon. Merkin came back out a few minutes later explaining, “I spoke with the little fellows. They understand we are here to investigate the Marshenmire mystery. They have agreed to let you enter there abode. Before long, about three-dozen goblins, all stood around the royal elves, both clearing six-feet tall, with a nine-foot glamour-troll towering over everybody. The home-brew posse stood negotiating for a while. Merkin translated. After trading some items with them, the only real magick-artifact of interest to our two princess-wizards was a magick ring, the tribe shaman had. He didn’t want to loose it, saying it had been carved by the goblin gawds and gifted to him personally. At saying this, all the other goblins, even their leader, all bowed in reverence to the shaman. Merkin suspected an artifice. The trio spoke to the goblin shaman in private, he reluctantly agreed to give up the ring, for a dagger +2 and an exact replica of the ring, brought to him by the next full-moon. The heroes gave their word. The two groups parted amicably.

The home-grown crew decided to head back into town, to go and see the wizard Tauster to see about getting a replica made. The journey was uneventful. After a three week long wait, the group went back to the goblin cave. Along the trail, the trio all surprised a nest of a dozen shrill lancers (screech stirge), they decided to skirt-around them, and evaded combat. They also came across a great eagle, Sophia tried to use her Animal Handling skill, it failed, that bird had flown. Then the group of heroes happened upon ten pitbulls. Rolling the specified chance of them being either angry or hungry (i.e. likely to attack) I rolled a critical-failure (96 on the percentile), so the pack of dawgs began licking the feet of Maggie McFinnigan, playing with his pet wolf – Shady. T’would seem his Reynir blood-line ability of Animal Affinity – Canine had an effect. Maggie acquired ten formerly wild pitbull terrier dawgs to his followers.

On the last day before arriving at the goblin cave, the two spied a pair of flying monstrosities (though only three feet long) coming at them. Stone-birds. Cockatrice. The mythological birds were surprised, giving the home-grown crew time to act. Maggie let rip with a Phantasmal Fireball spell, caining the cockatrice for twenty-odd points of damage. Meanwhile Sophia telepathically conveyed to his faithful elven war-dawg, Tœfu to use her Entangle spell innate-ability. The cockatrice were then stuck, snared in the trees by living branches, animated plants magickally grabbed hold of the stone-birds, hampering the fabulous beasts. The pitbulls surrounded the tree while Merkin began to climb the tree, getting up to the enemy. One of the cockatrice managed to successfully turn the branches to stone, helping free itself of the trap. Merkin took a swipe at it, taking a chunk out of it’s side as the stone-bird freed itself from the branches. It attacked back, missing Merkin. Maggie let rip with another Phantasmal Fireball but both the beasts made their saving throw against the illusionary balls of fire, thus were unaffected. While a dozen dawgs and wolves bayed at the bottom of the tree, Sophia co-ordinated the attack from the rear. It didn’t take long for the Entangle spell to wear off. Maggie struck the thing with darts, wounding it for a lone point of damage. The other free stone-bird swooped down to attack Sophia, missing the unarmoured battle-mage by a fraction of an inch. (He may have been petrified, in the true sense of the word, if the thing had hit!) The cockatrice soon had a pack of ravenous canines surrounding it. Merkin jumped after the wounded assailant, his greatsword in both hands coming down and slicing the thing in two. A couple of the pitbulls started to munch on it’s bloody carcass in the snow, after it had fallen to the earth, albeit in two pieces. Then the other one tried to get away, not so fast, Sophia bagged it with a swipe from her quarterstaff, downing the bird, it slumped in a pile of freshly fallen snow. The two royals called off their dawgs and used the Bone Saw of Optimal Yields to recover a few hundred feathers, to be used to pen magickal dweomers. They also found a stack of treasure, many hundred coins in gold, several precious gems and some art objects, about the stone-birds’ lair.

In the end, Sophia and Merkin managed to deliver the imitation ring to the goblin Shaman, traded off a dagger +2 to gain the real ring (still unidentified), and clean up on the X.P. Gravy-train, catapulting Sophia to level two battle-mage, and Maggie to levels three and four in mage/theif respectively. The half-elf gained the Glitterdust spell, while Sophia the grey-elf learned Divining Rod. Seeing as we were running late (so had no time to buy equipment at the start) the grey-elven princess bought a suit of armour (elven chainmail) and also a Quarterstaff +1. Here endeth the session.

Watch out, Hannibal’s about this Christmas, so next week will be his adventure. I’ll bring y’all updates as it develops. While I’m on the subject, were organising a second session on a regular basis so I should have plenty to write on that front, also, Morris (a.k.a. Berenger Baggins) is pencilled-in to start another new group, composed entirely of different players, possibly in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. It’ll be his first stab at being story-teller. Good luck Berenger. When I heard he might be Grift-Meistering, I was told that he said to the players, “It will have to be Hack-Master.” which was music to my ears. That’s two more groups that have spawned here, and both are converts to the only roleplaying system of worth: all hail to the mighty Hack-Master. Forget fakers of 3.5 and 4th edition, you’re all lameos. Hack-Master is much much closer to the original D&D than these new-comers in the world of roleplaying. As Conn Iggulden said in his “Dangerous Book for Boys”: “The first edition dungeons and dragons is the original and still the best, by far.” Although Hack-Master is somewhat expanded upon than the texts written way-back in the ‘70s, it still has that classic feel to it that you just don’t get with the newer, more commercial rovus systems. I brought them up well. Both new Grift-Meister’s respect the tradition of D&D, they know darn well that the best system is the one we’ve been playing. Sure, we’ve tried other systems (d20, 3.5 and Wfrp 2nd edition), we’ve had other G.M.‘s but we always end-up coming about, full-circle, back to our roots, the tradition that has become Hack-Master. Dust off your first edition character sheets and resurrect your old heroes, they fit in perfectly with this system, adapted with minimal complication or fuss. Bring ’em back from the time that taste forgot (the 1970’s). Never mind all the rest, accept only the best. You fools keep playing your steam-punk, d20 and world of w**kraft (4th edition), here we play almost exclusively “the Master”. I’m off to Switzerland to buy some more gem-stone dice, and of course study towards my history degree under the tutelage of professor Pangloss. Maybe play some gigs there. See you all in the spring! Max-out.

by Maxen » Tue Jan 11, 2011 12:38 pm
Morris Berenger Baggins the Second took a break from light clerical duties and decided to take a long walk in the forest, if only to commune to with the spirit of the universe. Of Ki. Of Nature. While breathing in the fecundity of the oak, the ash and the evergreen, he was surprised to find a lone Ogre Lord, who happened to be taking a stroll in the woods at the same time, in the very same spot that Beren’junior was meditating. The Megasapien was equally just as surprised to see little Morris. As both people recovered their wits, the Ogre Lord said, “I challenge you to a duel, to the death; little man…” Of course, this entailed the usual rigmarole for an Honour-Duel in the Master of all AD&D systems (Hack-Master), except that the Megasapien was playing for keeps (i.e. to the death, not just first to three knock-downs, no below the belt, Queensbury rules). Morris accepted gladly, then immediately bent the rules – so to speak – by casting an Entangle spell on the massive creature towering over him. The Ogre Lord rolled a strength check (on a D30) to see if he could break the bonds. A twenty-seven. Unlucky for the Ogre-Lord, Morris quickly capitalised on this by whacking the giant ogrynn with his quarterstaff, time and time again. After nine rounds of hitting the thing, fumbling many times in the attempt, he managed to make a break for it, just before the dweomer expired. Casting it again, he repeated the process, this time the wounded Ogre Lord broke free of his natural chains; once liberated, the Megasapien bounded forward towards his fleeing prey. Morris legged-it, then cast his last Entangle spell he had memorised. Luckily, the Giant Ogre was held fast. It was close, to the penultimate round before the creature may have broken-free and wasted the little hobbit; however Morris the druid felled the monstrosity, netting him nearly three-grands worth of X.P. (for t’was Christmas time, and as such, is tradition here to dish out double X.P. for creatures.) This catapulted him to level three. After patting the slain creature down for coin, he felt ill at ease in this forest and headed back to town.

There he met Paco-Jay Meadri the death-mage, who had teamed-up with his new acquaintance – one Sophia Soverignsson. To cut a long story short, Paco told the others said that they had discovered the whereabouts of the bandits that attacked them on the river, some time back. Alas, the home-grown crew from Snuggle-Nook made there way to the Broken Tower Keep.

Morris boldly took the lead, followed by his companions. Sure enough, no-one had Detect Snares and Pits or Detect Traps, neither cast nor memorised. Thus Morris took a dive into a ten foot deep pit-trap (after a failed DEX check), spiking himself on a bunch of spears below. As he tried to free himself, Paco-Jay valiantly moved in to help his comrade by lowering his quarterstaff. The death-mage narrowly avoided a swinging noose and stone counter-balance after-trap. Like a feckless Ewok log snare, the secondary trap failed to connect. Movement could be seen on the ramparts. Cloaked crossbowmen eyed the newcomers warily. Morris cast a Soften Stone spell, all three wall sections he had hit made there saving throws. (It stated in the P.H.B. spell-list that it needed to be dressed stone in order to be able to be eligible for a save. Clearly this was a ruined keep, therefore perhaps not so well fashioned stone, however, I feared that the others would miss out as Morris had already been cleaning up on the X.P. gravy-train, so I provided the rationale that “they don’t make ‘em like they used to.”) Even with a few – only fair – modifiers in favour of Morris’ spell, all three wall-sections he hit with his spell unfortunately made there saves with room to spare. Paco-Jay cast a Fireball: Barrage spell, to which two flaming balls of fire honed in on a guard, cinging him for a measly two points of damage. Sophia’s elven war-dog Tœfu cast his Entangle spell-ability, tying up two of the rogues on the left rampart, tentacle-like thorns and creepers grew out of the wall, ensnaring them. Meanwhile, two of the defenders’ armoured warriors came down the stairwell and out of the gates, towards our team. To which Sophia took a shot with her bow, hitting one of the defending rogues, grazing him. Morris began casting the spell White Hot Metal. One of the two armoured warriors who had descended the stairs began to boil, his chainmail and jewellery melted off him, solidifying in a pool around him. The fighter was badly burned due to liquid metal, searing his skin. Paco-Jay cast Disable Hand rendering the other fighter’s sword-arm useless, incapacitated. The defender dropped his magick longsword, but piled in there with his fists, smacking Tœfu the elven war-dog for two points of temporary, subdual damage. T’other fighter laid into Morris with his longsword, caining him. Morris retaliating with a Cause Light Wounds spell, hurting one of them. Then Sophia cast a Sleep spell, bringing the two warriors down, into a deep, magickal slumber; Paco-Jay moved forward, past the dozing guards, the black-elf death-mage ran through the gates then up the stairs, laying into an archer on the right rampart. Three other enemies came to there friends aid. Morris cast another Entangle spell, snaring the halfling-thugs on the right flank. Sophia and Tœfu went-in, past the stairwell, to investigate the door beyond. T’was locked as it turned out. She made her way back to the stairs. Meanwhile, the only free thief inside fired his crossbow at the group, hitting Morris in the arm. After which, he rang a bell. A glider came in to view, circling about from behind them. Landing in a tree, the evil priest began casting from atop a branch. Morris began casting his last Entangle spell at the evil-cleric. The dark-priest saw this and took to his glider again, this caused a wild-surge spell-mishap, making him gain the seizures mental flaw, the dark-priest of Lazrou immediately went into a fit, his glider crashed into the ground directly in front of Morris. The dark-priest kept having his episode in the forty-foot cube of animated plant life but h is high-strength score and Ring of Free Action meant he escaped Morris’ Entangle spell with ease; once he’d recovered from his fit of course.

Maxen takes a break from writing the log-book during the festive season, absolutely sozzled on god-knows what, a hazy blitz, snowfall and magicrystals of rainbow coloured delights, yes sirree, this Christmas was nigh-on unbelievable; anyhow, let’s get back to cases with a hot cuppa and a smoke. Muggles. Where were we? Oh yes! The bad-guy made a break for it, that is to say the evil-priest. Um… what else happened? Yeah. Um. I remember Sophia and Tœfu running up the stairs to aid Paco-Jay Meadri, kicking some heads in while they were entangled, snared-up in a mass of writhing plants. The two stuck in there, poking them through the plants where limbs were exposed outside of the forty-foot cube of animated flora, the two spell-casters thwacked the baddies, using elements of their newly acquired training of Master Sung-Hu Check’s Striking Staff Style. They tore up the enemy in a successive flurry of attacks. The remaining rogue on the rampart, with his liberty took a pot shot at the wizard still outside the gates; he missed, hit his near-dead buddy killing him, the shooter then failed a morale check, and started to dart down the stairwell on the left flank (facing the keep). Anyway, a loud bell could be heard once he had dashed down to the foot of the windey staircase, shouting, panicking, raising the alarm to alert others, who, as it happened, didn’t arrive on the scene. The home-grown posse wasted the bad-guys with ease, though one or two got away, it mattered not. Due to real-life time constraints we wrapped it up shortly after this part, gathered up all the treasure, getting hit by some traps in doing so, finding a shed-load of treasure, gold coin** (half-crowns, or gold-pennies in our monetary system; which, I might add Hannibal has glady adopted in his English style campaign). The remaining home-brew boys cleaned up, found some gems, once set in now melted jewellery because of Morris’s White Hot Metal spell, earlier on in the encounter. They also found some fairly rudimentary magick-weapons, mainly all +1 enchantment level, some plus two’s, and not much else. We then levelled the character’s up, seeing as it was Boxing Day, and therefore, technically speaking still during that festive season, within the twelve days of Yule-tide, accordingly t’was double X.P. awards for slaying bad-guys. So the home-brew crew cleaned-up on X.P. this time, though ‘tis but a taste of what is to come; as soon after the game had drawn to a conclusion, some day or two, while Sophia was over visiting, we had a call, then a loud knock on the door, and t’was none other than Hannibal (a.k.a. Garag Tog, Zemiah Pangelli and currently playing Tehlu Aguna) and Beren’junior. (a.k.a. Berenger Baggins, now running Morris Beren’junior Baggins the second, a chip off the old block, just like his old-man, if only more druidic than clerical) Alas, we’ve the second sesh’ to write-up, here we go!


time phased by, elapsed in twilight turning to a new day -

Write-up for the session that happened on the Tyrsday after. Still the yule-tide festive season, so the home-grown crew were still entitled to double X.P. for bagging bad-guys. Writing this up on the first Moonday of January. First off, the crew skinned outta the keep, and were entranced by an elder green dragon, who dwelt deep within the færie-forest. Tehlu immediately tried to throw down the gauntlet, by challenging the Ancient Elder Green Forest Dragon to an Honour-Duel! The Grift-Meister’s voice boomed out in the sky, “What are you doing Hannibal man? You’re character is only level three!? This thing is majorly powerful dude.” to which I then rattled off a complete run-down of the creature from the adventure module, listing all spells, spell-abilities and the things like hit-dice, THAC0 and special attacks and defences.

To which Tehlu Aguna replied up to the heavens and said, “What about the time Garag the Gnome-Titan Beserker handed it to Skag Fellow, that high-level Blade-Master back in Randall’s Keep?” * (see the bottom of this post, this thread, for more detail on the encounter with Skag)

As the clouds seemed to make the shape of a face, it’s eyes rolling then spake thus, “Indeed it can.” The wyrm used Dragon Speak Ancient Language Skill, to influence the (social) reaction of the posse. Before you knew it they all sang like tweety-pie! Yes sir. By way of the archaic tongue, the crew began to reveal their troubles, secrets and hang-ups from their back-stories. Morris was blubbing his heart out about how he always felt isolated, alone, not being able to drink amongst his friends, what with his Low Tolerance to Alcohol Quirk. “T’was like a scene from **** Emrey, such was the lewdness and debauchery, except that **** Emrey is not yet born, so such a comparison, may not be drawn…” (Bill Bailey) The little hobbit druid, usually very stoic and indifferent to such emotions (as he’s True-Neutral Alignment – Indifferent) was weeping loads now, like out of the scene in Red Dwarf Series Five, Episode Six: the despair squid, “back to reality”, where the dwarf-posse are outside the air-lock in star-bug, after they’ve been hit by a dose of the hallucinogenic suicide-squid ink, before they’re able to find a chemical stabilizer agent to stop them tripping out, breaking up (four minutes into the episode) when Kryten says, “B-b-bouts of despair!” Morris spilled his inner-most secrets with his companions, under the influence of the Dragonspeak. He told his friends of how he was one of ten children growing up, what with Morris being the second-to-last born, he missed the due attention most children have from a smaller family (note: this was all rolled up at char-gen using Hack-Master, if however you play D&D third edition {Gayhawk}, version 3.5 {Path-looser} & fourth edition {W.o.W. / tabletop wargame, akin to Warhammer Quest or computer games} you’d miss-out, lose all this attention to detail) check this out: Morris started blubbing badly now, waterfall, telling everybody, especially about the fact saw himself, as he really was: a bumbling nincompoop, a stuttering fool, who drools all the time. (Morris rolled these quirks and flaws at char-gen: Nincompoop (Jerk), Stutterer, and Drooling!) He confessed to hating Gnomelings (Half-hobbits, half-gnome), disliking halfling-thugs. The little hobbit-druid of the shire was in floods of tears now, and started to bleed at the nose. (This is because Morris also rolled at the start Psychotic Aversion towards Gnomelings and the Chronic Nose Bleeds quirks and flaws.)

Alas, Tehlu Aguna passed her hobbit friend a hanky, then, like Lister in the despair-squid episode of Red Dwarf “I don’t seem to be affected” (by the Dragonspeak) then her lip began wobbling, “I don’t think anyone’s truly loved me my entire life, but, theirs nothin’ new about tha’.” Tehlu sang like tweety-pie! All about how she too was one of ten children growing up, starved for parental attention. How her twin brother was the first-born and about how Tehlu was denied all the privilege he was growing up. (Again, this is all rolled-up using the Hack-Master character creation tables.) Tehlu spilled her guts up about how she annoyed everyone around her with her incessant sleep-talking, that her nervous tic always played up at inopportune moments. She confessed that she’s a chronic liar, also that she has a dark, sadistic bent, that she’s self-obsessed and insatiably greedy. How she has shaky hands, and felt ugly at having lost her ear. Worst of all, was not her phobia of worms, but how she believed herself to be a boy! (Once more, these are all quirks and flaws Hannibal’s character rolled in Hack-Master character creation. Beat that 3.5!)

Sophia cut-in like the Cat saying “This is like Saturnsday night at the wailing wall! What’s gotten into you guys?” Sure enough, the elven princess began to sob, “Why does it always have to be me that has to be the strong one?” (More waterworks) “Without me you guys would just fall apart!” (Moan moan, streams of tears now) Sophia Sovereignsson began blubbing about how she felt isolated as a middle-child, about how this made her cling to Maggie McFinnigan while growing up about the Elfæn-court. Sophia poured her heart-out about how she knew only too well that she had an obnoxious personality, that she knew she always had to be the centre of attention (Loud Boor quirk), that no-one could ever wake her up unless they hurt her physically (the Sound Sleeper flaw) and that she felt embarrassed about having a Strange Body Odour impairing her progress, socially. The cherry on the icing however was about the love she never had from both her parents, who were ill-equipped to deal with her growing up, how their duties at court kept them from giving her the attention she required in her formative years.

Once the Ancient Green Dragon Inzeldrin had learned their inner-most deepest secrets, discerned that the home-grown crew presented no threat. She told them of some giant formorian which have been troubling the local region. Everyone agreed that the home-brew crew were too low-level to do anything about it. Eventually it was Tœfu the keen elven war-dog that came up with the idea that Inzeldrin should be persuaded to do something about it. The dragon, after consideration, agreed to do this, in exchange for some livestock, from the town. The wyrm also agreed to help the local farmers, using her Plant Growth spell-ability to aid the agricultural yields in the region. All thanks to Lassie (Tœfu). The posse moved back on into the town of Thurmeister.

Upon reaching the local weapons shop, the group weren’t surprised to see the usual precautions, solid steel barred-up windows. Cast-lead bank-vault style transaction security, like some inner-city Liverpudlian off-licence in a ghetto up-north. This didn’t stop Tehlu who immediately used Hypnotism to transfix the teller. The shop-keeper failed his saving throw. As a result, Tehlu had a shiny new magickal Scimitar +1, and the others managed to pick up some real bargains (Trading feathers for magick-items, copper pennies for whole suits of armour, etc.) Sophia had a magick bow. They sold a bunch of magick weapons and armour at their full market value. After two rounds however, the spell wore-off. The teller seemed very much out of sorts. He shut up the shop early today. Beside himself. It wasn’t long before shouts of annoyance and fits of rage could be heard inside, upon the realization of what he’d done. Alas, t’was too late. The deal was done.

Our posse healed-up, Morris trained Tehlu in the druidic arts (spell list). Several weeks passed uneventfully, then they all headed back to the Keep. Tehlu nearly fell into another pit-trap, she made her DEX check. Then she went about, with Sophia, disarming all the traps carefully. Then they set the traps in other places, marked out where they were on a make-shift map, and told everyone else in the posse there location.

After investigating the already cleaned-out first-half of the building, the group came to a door they’d not been through before. Upon opening it carefully, they were greeted by magickal Darkness. Morris cast Soften Stone, this time bringing a whole section of the building collapsing on a dozen orcs, as well as a few zombies; slaying them all. (Double X.P. for the Christmas festivities meant our hobbit cleaned-up on experience points!) Then they could hear the opening theme to Carmine Burana by Orff (the dark-priests’ title music). Sophia and Tehlu were surprised. A poisoned crossbow-bolt flew out from the other half of the now semi-collapsed building, hitting Sophia of Eltharion squarely in the chest! Luckily she made her poison-save so didn’t suffer any ill-effects, other than her pride being hurt, and taking a couple H.P. damage. Morris was the only one able to cast spells after the evil-cleric cast Silence 15’ radius on the home-brew crew. The hobbit-druid of ki cast Entangle, snaring two thieves and a couple of orcs. Sophia recovered her wits and fired an arrow at a Carrion Crawler that had slithered into sight. Morris unsuccessfully threw a flask of oil at the entangled lot, it fell short but still splashed them slightly with the liquid. Tehlu however strolled up to the plants and began pouring it all over them at point-blank range, the con-woman then got back. The dark-priest could smell that something was up, used his Ring of Free Action to get out of the entanglement then he cast Resist Fire. The intention was to save his minions but soon found he could only protect himself with the spell. Someone lit the oil, sending a gout of flame roaring up and around the moving plant-life, burning the captive orcs and thieves to death. The crew engaged the Carrion Crawler in hand-to-hand. It was down within a few rounds or so.

As the fire died down, the crew could see no sign of the priest. They looted the treasure and moved on, into the burning, half-collapsed ruined Keep. Upon opening the door to the study, another crossbow-bolt flew out, missing the crew. This time it was the dark-priests’ turn to be surprised. Tehlu cast Heat Seeking Fists of Thunder. A disembodied magick hand flew towards the torch-bracket near the dark-priest, it exploded in a sonic-boom, hitting everyone within a 20’ radius of the fire-source, wounding the evil-priest, his orcish lackeys and undead minions (skeletons). Morris moved in there, hitting them with his quarterstaff, the orcs fought back, trading blows with the home-grown crew. Sophia of Eltharion then cast Icy Sphere, caining the evil-priest with cold damage, also clipping on of the skele’s. Tœfu ran in there and bit the enemy priest, who fought back with renewed vigour, hurting the elven dog. Then, the skeletons closed-in on Tehlu, who took some damage, then switched to her Fung-Chi style martial art, she attacked using Iron Fist shattering some bones on the lean undead beings.

The dark-priest tried to escape again, with Sophia and Tœfu hot on his heels. The evil-cleric smacked Sophia for twelve damage with his magickal Flail +3, but not before getting struck down with blow from Sophia’s Quarterstaff +1. Tehlu used her Eagles Claw strike to down to down the last skeleton. The remaining orc lackey made his morale check and struck Tehlu Aguna in vein. He was downed the following round by another Fung-Chi Eagle Claw attack. Sophia and Tœfu tore up the last remaining orc emissary, and that – as they say – was that! The home-brew crew searched for treasure, finding a bucket-load of baubles, magick, coin and such. Whilst searching the adjoining chamber, Tœfu came across a giant rat. He didn’t have any trouble with it, the posse downed it within a round or so.

Aftermath: Sophia made level three Battle-Mage (Spell-Slinger), Tehlu is now officially a level three Charlatan (Empiric) and Morris is now a level five Druid (Initiate of the Third Circle). Paco-Jay is level three, and Maggie McFinnigan is still levels three and four (in Mage/Thief, respectively). I’ve asked the person who plays Sophia nicely to write-up any sessions they have while I’m away. Here on this site of course. So hopefully we’ll be updated on the events that transpire in Hannibal’s “Yokel” campaign. Sophia is running a half-ogre warrior in that adventure, so they’ll have a decent fighter at least. I wish you all the best. I can’t wait to get some red, blue, yellow, purple and rose coloured precious gem-stone dice sets from abroad. The first set I brought back are now nearly engraved, many thanks to my friend and neighbour. I can confirm that three dice are done so far. The rest should be finished upon my return, ready for another bunch to be completed. By the way, if anyone wants D6’s for Shadowrun or war-gaming then I can buy them already engraved, by laser, at the source. They’re onyx and come in three different sizes. Unlike the expert engraving on the dice done here at home, the role-players set, these D6’s don’t have numbers on, but pips; and, instead of having to be rolled on baize, they are durable enough so that can be rolled on regular surfaces (such as a table) without fear of damage. Let me know if you’re interested. I intend to go to the warehouse, to the source, cutting out the middle-man and getting hold of these beauties at the cheapest possible price. It should be a good annum ahead. Happy New Year everyone here at Ukrp. Especially Dave for putting up with my rants, not banning me, and appreciating the role-playing related material I upload here. Take care. All of you. Max-out.

  • Skag Fellow (a.k.a “Skraag Fallow”, “Fowl”, “Squinty” or “Anvil-Head”), Garag Tog, at level one, bested a Blade-Master (in an honour-duel) He had on him a +12 enchantment intelligent sword ‘Atticus Noyle’, as well as various other seriously powerful magickal artifacts and relics, including: the Heart of the Clan Lord, the Ring of Long Years (which doubled Saemuses life-span to thirty-odd, what seeing as he was hit by that Ghost a while back, ageing him for a score years, means he is well past his prime, his hay-day. Poor old Berenger has like strength two, constitution three after being magickally aged eighty or so years by that ghostie. Savage. A moment-Moray to them both, harsh.) …Anyway, other treasures acquired during that memorable moment, the historical event, when Garag rolled two crits in a row against Skag, who was effectively a 28th level Fighter (that’s to say, an 8th grade Blade-Master.) Right off the bat, I might add, then lay the boot in with a stomp attack, was himself knocked out in Skag Fellows retaliatory strike, but eventually came out of his coma, however, poor old Skag wasn’t so lucky. He bled to death on the snowy-trodden streets of Randall’s Keep, outside the Elfwood Tavern, nestled deep within the Voegan mountains, many moons ago. Anyhow let’s not forget the Never-Empty Mead Tankard, the Grieves of the Troll-kin, also the Shield of Provocation +3 and of course the Kali’s Eye-Tooth of the Ma’tæn Tribe. Some of these magickal items were stolen away by Mortimer Creo’ the Mage-Slayer (a.k.a. “Lord Creo”, “Dredger”, “Mortimer Creosote”) and some by the invisible Sæmus McFinnigan the First. Though Garag Tog the level one Gnome-Titan Berserker still won the +12 Hack-Master sword, Atticus Noyle he donated to the temple of pangrus. One more thing, the territory, the turf this all happened on, is now known as O’Finniga. It long-since signed a treaty of independence from it’s former colonial power, the empire of Fang. Among the neighbouring provinces are Eltharion and the Elfæn Woods, the Færie Forest of O’Finniga, also, to the east it borders the Mountain Kingdom. Made up of the original Dwarves and disaffected Gnomes, the disgruntled believers of Gærdal Ironhand, a number of Forest Gnomes were exiled eastwards. Led by Zemiah Pangelli in an Exodus, where he parted the sea of trees, the conquering lion prince of judah, archprelate patriarch of all faiths moved forest and mountain to lead his people free. The king of all kings, the lamb of Aten, the celestial chosen one, a freak-mutant star-child from way-out beyond the cosmos. Far-out. The Messiah, not unlike Brian (Monty Python, the Life of…) He is actually the ‘Chosen One’ that is his career-class. In reference to this shift in the topography of the region: next Snuggle-Season will be the continuation of the Evils of Haranshire adventure, the current module (prefab) I’m running, however it’ll be alongside a new BirthRight style campaign, adapted to suit the Snuggle-Nook campaign setting, the world of Tadisaga. Muggles. It fits in neatly with most of the character’s backgrounds: Maud is hier to the throne of the Elfaen-Isle, Sophia is next in line to inherit Kingdom of Elfwood, Maggie is daughter of Maud and Saemus, the first-born daughter of the clan McFinnigan, lays claim to the Vowjeanne mountain range (O’Finniga) and the neighbouring Faerie Forest. Also Berenshire, home of the hobbits, is in the hands of Morris Berenjunior Baggins the second. Next door to that is Pangellia and Garagorn, Hannibal’s rightful inheritance. Let’s not forget Nercropolis: Paco-Jay Meadri’s land of the Black-Elves. Put simply: each player runs his own country, comprised of only one or two provinces, all neighbouring one another. They’re land-locked, and although O’Finniga and Berenshire lay claim to the isle of the cyclops, as well as other holdings throughout Snuggle Nook, also, with both Sophia and Maud laying claim to the far-away Elfaen-Isle, it’ll be a while before they really get a chance to flourish. To bloom. I’ve worked it so they’ll have to work together, rather than be at each others throats in some dire espionage campaign wrecking scenario. This is because, the surrounding nations are all much larger, fitting in with Hannibal’s human-world idea, also coincidentally what Papa Gyagax once said in his 1st Edition AD&D DMG, about world design. Anyhow, I’ve the twelve tribes of man designed, and the ones neighbouring the players’ land are the Keltio tribes, the Lands of Hessan, the Kingdom of Fang (Allansia, the olde worlde), Daenor to the north, and bordering that, the only demi-human nation-neighbour, the Mountain Kingdom (of the Dwarves, and the Gnomes and the little-people). Stay on the flex. So ends this write up. Ciao for now.

by Maxen » Tue Feb 01, 2011 11:47 pm
Atop the misty snow-capped peaks of the Vœjyan mountains, lay a house of fair size, nestled within the folds of the Beyard. A gentle fall of snow-flakes drift lazily down all about the place, leaving trace of track, imprints, impressions of savage, wild animals. Evidenced by trodden hoof or claw. As you look down upon the sizeable, yet modest wooden dwelling of Didier the artisan, a small wisp of smoke drifts up slowly towards the heavens. Crystal-like flakes of soft snow fall all about you and your companions as you tread wearily down through the rock-covered mountain side. The wind picks up slightly before dying down again. You have the feeling of being watched from within the dark gloom of the forest. As you turn about to see the source of the watcher, a fleeting glimpse of a lynx, running away fast throughout the trees, weaving in and out with expert aplomb. Turning your attention down to the wooden building, the sun began to sink below the horizon, it spilled a gigantic orange light, that reflected off a sky filled with a blanket of clouds. Amber, yellow and salmon cover the azure stratosphere, casting long shadows over the snowy landscape. As you reach Didier’s door, the smell of onions cooking mingled with wood-smoke fill your nostrils.

You ring the bell, glancing unknowingly at your compatriots. The shuffle of foot-steps emanate through the foyer, then the creak of a door, and another, then the creak of a third door as the white wooden portal opens before you to the ring of chimes from behind the door. A small man stands before you dressed in modest habits, plain-looking clothes, sporting a well-trimmed beard and a golden chain about his neck, with a turquoise scarf. His beady youthful eyes dart this way and that, surveying your group, before saying (in broken Anglyn/Common) “Welcome to my home…”

by Maxen » Thu Feb 03, 2011 6:48 pm
Roleplay-session at the start of February, in the year of our Lord 2011 Anno Dominii

Morris Berenjunior Baggins the Second and Sophia of Eltharion had a strangely intense dream whereby they were in a jacuzzi, surrounded by a dozen vestal virgins, who were pouring milk over them, asses milk, goats milk and cows milk. In the steamy scene, white-dressed fair maidens, scantily clad rubbed oil into their bodies while scantily clad servants fed them grapes and fruits from silver platters. Zeus appeared and healed the two adventurers of the ill-effects from previous critical-hits taken, effectively casting Cure Critical Wounds on them both. Then, the scene faded, back to reality, t’was “all just a dream.” (But the Cure Crit’ was oddly real.)

Morris and Sophia stood outside the artisan-house of Didier, who invited them in to the warm fireside haven. To the left was a fabulous museum, a collection of fossils, rare gem-stones and meteorites, from around the world of Snuggle Nook. The two travellers both mused, “I know what Maggie would do if she was here…” eyeing the collection suspiciously. Didier closed the door to the museum under lock and key, and ushered them into the other side of his house. The hearth-home fire was burning and a skinny looking man played a strange looking musical instrument. Another man, broad shouldered and tough-looking drank wine, whilst stirring an onion soup. They offered the characters some beverages, then Morris began singing along with the music, making his artisan-skill: Singing check. This impressed the sage Didier very much, who began to dance merrily. After the festivities had died down somewhat, they dined together. They regaled one another with stories, Sophia asked if anything unusual had been happening in the locality. If there were any rumours of adventure around. They spoke of taverns needing singers, musicians, artists in the nearby town of Geramy. Also the group told them of roving bands of ravenous wolves, accosting lone travellers. But of most interest was the mystery surrounding the Glimmering Glade (see adventure description images at the end of this thread).

After a morning coffee and a quick smoke of hobbit pipe-weed (which Morris refrained from, as he had the alcohol from last night), the two were well motivated for the day’s early adventuring. The Glimmering Glade lay some distance across the other side of the valley. Nearing the edge of the dead-wood, the guys surprised a group of wolves, Morris cast Speak with Animals, they parleyed with the animals and skirted around there lair.

As the elven princess and hobbit druid entered the dead-wood, they noticed that the clouds darkened, the skies covered over and that it had become night-time already. Not a sound stirred, and an eerie phosphorescent glow illuminated the region from the moss and bark on the spindly branches and trunks of the now-dead trees. As it turned out they stumbled across a clearing inhabited by a Wight. Tœfu the elven war-hound used her Entangle special ability at the behest of her mistress – Sophia, the Wight was unable to break free, despite being able to move a little (the branches of the trees ensnaring it was brittle, so afforded the Wight a bit of room to manoeuvre, giving it a 4 to being hit, instead of the usual automatic chance – providing the target’s at the edge of the area of effect, of course.) Sophia ran in there, scoring a whopping hit with her magickal quarterstaff. Fresh round, Morris reached the target, his little hobbit legs getting there, he too sweded the undead energy-drainer for some, however his weapon was ineffective, being a standard quarterstaff (i.e. non-magickal, nor silvered). Sophia threw her Quarterstaff1 to Morris, then cast Shocking Grasp on the Wight, causing a spell-critical (open ended damage, native to Hack-Master, lacking in 3.5 and the other inferior editions of D&D!), the helpless Wight took the pain. Morris swiped at it with his loaned magickal Quarterstaff+1, he fumbled, the staff dropped at his feet. Tœfu was unable to do anything to harm the Wight, so stayed out of it. Sophia missed on her second Shocking Grasp, the last one she had memorised. The elven princess grabbed her Quarterstaff+1 back.

Morris pulled out his Dagger+2, with him having Sickle proficiency, the dagger was a related weapon and so, in accordance with the Hack-Master ruleset, the penalty for attacking with such a weapon was less than t’would be if he used another type of weapon he wasn’t familiar with. Anyhow, it made little odds as Morris missed. Then Sophia fumbled, hitting her ally! Poor old Tœfu failed his dexterity-check, took the full amount of damage, despite Sophia only rolling a one, her whopping strength, high honour and magickal bonus for the weapon meant Tœfu was clipped pretty bad. Their luck changed, and within three more rounds the undead bad-guy bit the dust. Tœfu began digging in the dirt, finding a Dagger+1, before you knew it, what with Morris casting Soften Stone and Purify Water the whole team managed to dig-up, to unearthed a Long Sword+1, a Ring of Protection+1, a medium-sized metallic Shield+1, a piece of jewellery: a Platinum Choker encrusted with Emeralds (worth a grand and a half), and a Silver Scroll Case. This contained a letter (see attached image) as well as three spells: Stinking Cloud, Dispel Magick, and Melphs Acid Arrow, all cast at 11th level. They also found 48 Miscellaneous Items (weapons, armour, and other paraphernalia), oh and 54 sceatta (G.p.)

On the return to the house, the two decided to have a fire-side chat. A lone wolf howled in the dark distance, and it occurred to the pair of heroes that they had been journeying for some time together but had never really gotten to know each other. Here they unearthed some of their secrets, shared painful memories with one another (based on their Quirks, Flaws, and family history). Upon reaching the Artisan house, Sophia exchanged the emerald embedded choker for two pints of Dragon’s Blood, in an attempt to copy Stinking Cloud and Melph’s Acid Arrow into her spell-book, she failed abysmally, the two scrolls perished into dust. Didier the sage arch-mage felt pity for the apprentice elven battle-mage, and gave her a copy of Melph’s Acid Arrow for free (cast at 2nd level). Then the grand-wizard cast Teleport Without Error on the all-new home-grown crew, delivering them safely back to the ruined Keep, in a flash of lights and smoke.

One of the rogues, previously thought to be dead was now crawling towards a fountain in the courtyard. He had lost a lot of blood. Morris rapped him on the head with his quarterstaff, then bound the prisoner with some silk rope. (Attacking an unarmed and obviously inferior opponent who has already yielded would net some characters a loss in Honour, but seeing as the druid was not good, nor lawful alignment, he actually gained a point of Honour!) They pumped the prisoner for information, getting a general idea of the layout of the first dungeon level. Only vague and sketchy details about the first few chambers, but good enough to be wary of a few tricks and traps found within the dungeon. The two toyed with the idea of flooding the tunnels, until Tœfu suggested that there may be innocent lives dwelling down there. A voice in the clouds also mentioned that local rangers have access to a Ring of Water Elemental Control which would feasibly be able to regulate any abnormal flooding eventualities.

The two descended after a good-nights sleep, which was uneventful. Then the two managed to surprise a Wyvern (very lucky to have done-so) guarding the first chamber. They rushed in there and attacked the beast, sweding it for chunks of damage on the first round. Then it turned around a tried to bite Morris, it missed, then the stinging tail struck poor old Sophia, who failed her poison-save, killing her outright! Of course, this is Hack-Master, so the elven princess purged nine-tenths of her honour to get a fate-point. She passed her saving throw versus poison (only just, I might add, by the skin of her teeth!) All three of them piled in there, doing as much damage as they could, no spells were cast in these rounds, the all-new home-brew crew did as much damage as possible, taking the Wyvern down to a mere three hit-points. It attacked back with renewed vigour, biting Sophia, taking her down to hardly any hit-points, and stinging Morris, who failed his poison-save (after only needing a six or more on a twenty-sider!) the hobbit druid purged his Honour too; disaster! He failed it again! So Tœfu used her Honour-purge ‘mulligan’ (fate-point) to try and save the hobbit: he made it! Third times the charm. So then, afterwards Tœfu bit back. As did the beast, biting Sophia so bad it put her down to minus eight hit-points, she was bleeding all over the cavern floor now, unconscious. Debating whether or not to heal her friend, Morris decided instead to try and slay the flying beast. He missed. Tœfu however hit home, slaying the Wyvern, dead. However, rather than keeling over on to the floor, the Wyvern faded out of existence, disappearing in to transparency. For t’was a mere illusion all along, however the threat of death was very real, as no-one thought to disbelieve. Morris immediately cast Cure Light Wounds on her near-dead companion, stabilizing him, then the druid cast Cure Minor Injury to bring Sophia up to a lone hit-point. After coming round, the elven princess drank deeply from her Never Empty Flask of Healing using two doses (it should refill within a few hours). They retreated upstairs above ground to rest-up. What an encounter! After calculating X.P. Sophia of Eltharion is now a level four battle-mage, Morris is well on his way to being a level six druid, and after doing an Honour-audit, Morris is back up to nearly average honour, as is Tœfu, whereas Sophia is crawling back up slowly. Can’t wait for the next game, I’ll keep you all posted; have fun, take care, and stay on the flex. The Mac-attack.

by Maxen » Tue Feb 08, 2011 8:52 pm
Account of the all-new home-grown crew, rovusession in the winter of 2011, Anno Domini.

Sophia of Eltharion bade farewell to her companion Morris Baggins the second, and left him guarding their prisoner at the ruined-spire. She headed into town on her horse, little Tœfu the elven war-dog sitting atop the cart that trundled behind. The keen elven senses of her canine spied a fly-over. Alerting her mistress, Sophia looked up into the midday sun on this winter morning, only to see Paco-Jay Meadri, the Dark-elf Death-Mage, who smiled and waved, nearly crashing the glider in doing so, but adroitly recovering at the last moment swooping low over the grass ground. Aside the road he landed, they greeted one another and without further ado, loaded-up the glider on the wagon, then headed into town. On the slow-road to Thurmeister they, relaxed, had some lunch, a spot of fine ginger-ale, and had a smoke. The two caught-up on what they’d each been up-to, since they’d last seen one another. Paco-Jay said that he’d been into town, seen Tauster the Wizard for spell ingredients, scrolls, magickal-inks and owl-bear feathers, to scribe new spells he’d been learning, namely Telepathic Mute, Choke, Slow Healing, Invisibility and Web. Meanwhile, Sophia the elven-princess told her about her adventures with Morris, battling the Wight of the Gleaming Glade, and then nearly falling to the deadly-poisonous tail-sting of the illusionary Wyvern the two encountered only last month. She also mentioned that she too had learned Choke and Web of late, as well. Not only that, but she also recently discovered Fluttersoft, Run, Detect Disease, Filter, Divination, Know Alignment, Preserve, Improved Phantasmal Force, Levitate, Heat Seeking Pummelling Fists of Thunder and Stinking Cloud, she also had a Hold Person (Priest) Scroll about her. Alas, they soon all reached the town of Thurmeister. Upon passing through the gateway, people smiled and greeted Paco-Jay warmly, for the help and reconstruction efforts to repair their livelihoods – the wharf and jetty, there homes and families. The people warmly received Sophia, not least because she was a princess, but also because t’was common knowledge that she be a companion of Morris Baggins the second, who helped re-build the church, is the towns own resident druid, and also because of the great many deeds which the heroes had now so far accomplished, all cheered and offered generous hospitality wherever they did so choose. However the two decided to try and buy some more spell-materials (namely owl-bear feathers and dragons-blood – for writing spells of which they had the scrolls for, to write them into Paco-Jay’s spell-book.) Tauster was feeling quite reclusive, solitary this afternoon, and he had already spent all morning Mr. Meadri, so the door to his tall tower was shut. Across the street was a quiet man, watching the strangers. He was adorned in a simple white robes, carrying a staff. The young-man had the first beginnings of a neat-beard but seemed bald under his hood. Of coppery-complexion, the Human (Grecosidian/Odyssian) Monk: Ezekiel stepped forth. “We could use a warrior, do join us stranger if you will.” said Paco-Jay. “I accept.” replied Ezekiel. After a short-time deliberating as to whether or not take on a smaller side-quest, instead of the main campaign (seeing as Ezekiel was only level one at the moment; that and the other Paco-Jay and Sophia were wizards, of only levels 3 or 4 respectively.) In the end, the group decided to head straight for the main adventure site, no messing about. They stocked up on a few essential supplies, then turned straight about and went back to the camp. That is to say, the ruined-spire. Well stocked with food, ammunition and lamp-fuel, the underground crew made a bee-line back to Broken-Spire…

The two day journey was uneventful, the weather clement, albeit fresh on a frosty winters morn’ turn afternoon, into twilight and so forth until they had reached the building, just after the witching hour that fateful night. Leading the horse and cart through the debris, Sophia turned into the main chamber leading opposite the section of the building Morris had previously managed to level with a Soften Stone spell. The partially collapsed meeting-hall was large had a gap just large enough to admit the horse and cart. Ezekiel and P.J. Meadri followed in tow, Tœfu too, not far behind. The group looked at the sheared section on the other side of the clearing, filled with rubble and once molten stone, re-solidified to form strange puddles and gloopy shapes, bumps of stone in between them and the dungeon entrance. Tœfu winced, telling Sophia telepathically that, whoever they disturbed below-ground with the phantasmal Wyvern must know that we would return, it is not safe here. “Yeah yeah.” replied Sophia whilst turning to her compadres to formulate a battle-plan. The all-new home-brew crew spent some time in discussion, hammering out the best mode of attack, deciding which course of action to take. All the while, there in the courtyard was the wounded hostage, once again trying to make it to the fountain to drink. The bandito from the posse was crawling using his hands and bleeding all over the place from a nasty stomach wound. Ezekiel offered him a sip from his canteen and helped the feller up. They helped him eat something, then coaxed some more information out of him. The layout of the place, how many of them there were. “Five.” groaned the wounded road-robber. He continued mumbling slowly, in-between deep rasping breathes, “Two hobbits, and three humans, a warrior and two mystics.” The others restarted their conversation regarding how this information might change the plan when the noticed the wounded guy crawling away slowly toward the door, leaving a trail of blood in the grass. Minutes passed, the wind picked up, the home-brew boys, including Tœfu all sensed that something was amiss. The messed-up bandit was nowhere in sight now, but men started to appear on the walls opposite, the same rampart they had fought the dark-priest and his men. Groans could be heard as five shambling zombies came out of the keep-side gate, flanked by a half-a-dozen orcs led by a large brutish looking orkin warrior (level five), and on either side of the ramparts came two clerics (around level five-ish each), one darted down the stairs, quick as a flash, t’other, a lady dark-cleric flew down from the battlements, helping swarm the main doorway where the adventurers were, ordering her minions to spread out, to attack around all of the three side doors. The enemy warrior, flanked by two bandits and a halfing-thug, approached the arch carefully. Wary from what they’d seen and heard from this particular posse (The U.H.G.C.) they inched forward, not knowing what to expect, waiting for the slow moving zombies, shambling into position. A group of four orcs broke off and followed another bandit and hobbit-rogue, on the other side. Everyone in the party reserved their inititave, Tœfu attacked however, the bandit fired two flight arrows into the canine: the first flew wide, the second hit the dog straight in the chest, the bitch dog winced then ploughed in there, biting the rogue road robber. The hobbits tried to Hide in Shadows but failed both times. The posse (U.H.G.C.) stalled for time, as did the monsters. All except for the ones trailing behind, the orcs on the left had entered the meeting-hall chamber now, two of them reaching Tœfu, taking swipes at the little hound.

The bandit head-warrior piled through the door, leading the charge. There was only room enough for fighting two abreast in the archway so he was flanked by a (level 3) bandit. Paco-Jay missed with his quarterstaff, the head-warrior didn’t, attacking Ezekiel. He rolled a natural 20! Only worked out as a severity level four critical-hit to the Monk’s right elbow. The bandit took a shot at Paco-Jay, he missed. P.J. Meadri attacked back, he fumbled! The end of his quarterstaff was sheared off. Ezekiel retaliated using his Fung-Chi Style Martial Arts Manoeuvre – Iron Fist attack. It hit, striking for ten damage in revenge against the big bad boss. Sophia moved in to attack, she stumbled with a natural one, harsh! Dropping her Quarterstaff+1at her feet. A priestess cast Silence 15’ Radius on them all, another cast Hold Person on P.J., it didn’t hold for long, only a round or so. Many people traded blows, lots of people missing their attacks, being wide off the mark, on both sides. Tœfu was fully surrounded by orcs, a bandit and halfling-thug now. Then suddenly, from outta nowehere, Ezekiel attacks the boss-man with another Martial Arts Manoeuvre – Iron Fist attack, this time using the Sung-Hoy Style. The Monk failed his proficiency check for the special manoeuvre (so the damage was normal subdual – that is to say a quarter real, three-quarters temporary, with a chance of getting knock-out like normal.) Anyhow, he rolled, a severity level twenty-four critical-hit to the shin! Unfortunately the bad guy passed on the rolls regarding paralysis and bleeding to death, but did take triple damage, and had the guy at -4 STR and roll to attack as well as having -4 against him being. The actual crit’ did only about 6 points of real-damage (as well as 18 points of temporary subdual damage), but the guy dropped what he was carrying (a Broadsword+2), and the veteran thought twice about advancing any more, despite having the posse surrounded with overwhelming odds. Tœfu bit and clawed at her assailants, a valiant attempt at survival but she then took a severity level nineteen critical-hit to the hip, savagery! She just about survived it, but is now on the deck with half-a-dozen bad-guys beating her. The head-warrior slunk off, P.J. Meadri made his attack of opportunity roll, taking a chunk out of the leader as he ran away in shame. The two priests came in now, flanked by the zombies, who covered every door. The action was suspended there, people had to go, so we wrapped it up early. I just couldn’t leave the battle in such a state and tried to persuade the only remaining player to help me resolve it, he couldn’t stay, so I made all the rolls myself, on the following day.

Put simply, the action was fierce, but they were all captured. With any luck the old-school home-grown crew might just bail the new-guys out of trouble. We’ll just have to wait and see. Rovus on! During this session Ezekiel made level two Monk: making the jump from “Grasshopper” to “Brother”. I’ve copied his character sheet down here for y’all. I would have scanned the original in but I’m all outta printer ink so it’s on a first edition sheet, when we’ve re-written both he and Paco on an original Hack-Master character sheet I’ll upload them as soon as poss’.

by Maxen » Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:46 pm
Dimension Rift the continuation…

The Scimitar A.P.C. sped along the dusty mountain trail, leaving a belching black smoke and kicking up the reddish dust that lay all about this Afghani’ landscape. Inside was a section of U.S. troops with a British liaison officer in the front. They were coming back from a mission, a reconnaissance patrol, deep in the heart of Taliban territory. This was no ordinary unit, but the Jedi, the men that stare at goats, ex-special forces, on a mission to scout out the enemy positions through remote viewing, astral projection, the mind-expanding program that was shut down in the early seventies, then re-opened using the goat-lab’ and then P.S.I.C. incorporated under the command of Gus Lacey.

A flash and an explosion simultaneously happened, the armoured Scimitar vehicle toppled over on to the side of the dirt track. An unmistakeable sound of an A.K.47 chattered from behind rocks, it stitched a line of holes in the side of their ride, then kicked up sand as it peppered the soldier’s position. Rather than the panic of untrained civilians, these hardened veterans stayed calm, cool, collected. Radioed-in some support, then once the tell-tale sound of the shooter changing clip could be heard, the whole unit came up from behind cover and showered the rocks with belts of ammo and a few grenades to boot. Silence. Smoke drifted from the barrel and ejection chamber of Lyn Cassidy’s M16. The smell of cordite hung in the night air. A chopper sounded. Before long, the section cleared the area, searched for survivors, then loaded up on the now landed Chinook and got the hell out of there.

On the way back to base, they went through a strange weather phenomenon, a cloud of extremely dense vapour, thunder, lightning and heavy rain. Something struck the double-bladed helicopter, warnings bleeped, the thing spun about, this way and that, the pilot shouted back, “Hang on!” They were going to make a crash-landing. Lyn spotted something out of the window, a reddish vortex, a tear in the fabric of reality, a light and then silent unconsciousness…

He awoke to find himself with William Django, chained up in a wet prison cell, nearby three strangers, a regal yet dirt-covered lady with pointy ears, another pointy-eared fellow, with dark-skin and yellowish cat-like eyes. Then one more person, a black curly haired Greek-looking guy, dressed in filthy looking white robes. Where the hell were they?…

A new beginning

Cassidy Bimbow the Amazonian warrior-woman (an elf) and Gerhard Schneider, a beast-friend of weasels from Dænor, wandered haplessly through Darkwood forest. They are adventurers, swords for hire, and have been roaming the northern borderlands of the Dænor kingdom, for some time. Having always spurned the dullness of village life, they now wander the lands in search of wealth and danger. Despite the long walks and rough outdoor life, the two companions are content with their unknown destiny. The world holds no fears for them, as Cassidy was a skilful warrior-woman, well practised in the art of slaying evil men and beasts with her trusty short-sword. Not once during the last ten days since wandering the northlands had they set eyes upon anyone else. This did not worry the duo, as they had each other for company. The two enjoyed the slow, sunny days hunting, eating and sleeping. It is evening, having feasted on a dinner of rabbit (conies), spit-roasted on an open fire, they settle down to sleep beneath their sheepskin blanket. There’s a full moon, and the light sparkles on the blade of Cassidy’s short-sword skewered into the ground by her side. Cassidy gazed at it, wondering when she last wiped the blood of some vile creature from its sharp edge. These are strange lands, inhabited by weird and loathsome beasts: goblins, trolls and even dragons.

As the flame of there camp fire gently died, she began to drift asleep, and images of screaming, green-faced trolls flickered through her mind. Suddenly, in the bushes to there left, they heard the crack of a twig breaking, under a clumsy foot. Gerhard leaped up and drew his own short-sword (this is because he has the Acute Alertness talent). He stood motionless but alert, ready to pounce on there unseen adversary. Then he heard a groan, followed by the dull thud of a body falling to the ground. Is it a trap? After waking Cassidy gently, the two slowly walked over to the bush where the noise came from and carefully pull back the branches. They looked down to see a little old man with a great bushy beard, his face contorted with pain. He was wounded with a crossbow bolt embedded in his leg, coated along it’s tip with a poison that made the dwarf delirious. He kept talking of a hammer that had been stolen from Stonebridge, that a rival dwarven clan had sent an eagle-familiar to fetch it, and upon it’s return had been downed over Darkwood forest. The dwarf was helped up by the two travellers, given some broth and a little water. He told them of the wizard Tauster, and how to reach his tower, before keeling over, brown bread, dead. The next day, they buried the little feller, using an untrained Dig Hasty Grave skill check, relieved him of his coin (30 G.p.) then headed for the tower. The journey bright, uneventful and the way was clear.

Rapping upon the door to Tauster’s tower, a large gong sounded. A man peeked through a eye-slot, after deliberating a little, the wizard admitted the two adventurers to his tower. They explained what had happened with the dwarf. The wizard told them that he had discovered the whereabouts of the dwarven hammer. Some people had said that a pair of goblins had found it, argued over it, then took it to pieces, one taking the handle, the other the head. It was marked with the Geofu rune (an ‘X’), and that that would be how to recognise it. The two were charged with it’s recovery and safe return to Stonebridge. Then Tauster said that he had the following items for sale, all for only 2 or 3 scætta (G.p.) a piece: (Lesser) Potion of Healing – heals 1D3 H.P. only, Potion of Plant-Control, Potion of Stillness, Potion of Insect-Control, Potion of Anti-Poison, Holy-Water, Ring of Light, Boots of Leaping, Rope of Climbing, Net of Entanglement, Armband of Strength (1), Glove of Missile Dexterity (1), Rod of Water-Finding, Garlic Buds, Headband of Concentration, Fire Capsules and some Nose Filters. These items, although cheap, would only work within the realm of Darkwood. Gerhard bought the Boots of Leaping and some Holy Water, whereas Cassidy bought three healing salves. They left, the way was west, the path turned northwards, they met man trapped in thorns…

after freeing him, he gave them 20 G.p. each; they realized he was a thief after t’was too late, and that they were a little light on healing salves and holy water. Also the coins he gave them were counterfeit.

Some time later, the two travellers heard a scream from near the path, they investigated only to find a goblin.

They tried to speak to him, but then saw him metamorphoses into Cassidy. T’was roll initiative time! The first couple of rounds went well. Gerhard used his Boots of Leaping to vault over the shape-shifter, then thwak him on the back of the head with his sword. Cassidy waded in there, clobbering the beast for some. Then, as per usual, disaster happened! Cassidy took a severity level nineteen critical hit to the neck! She was down! Paralyzed, the elven Amazonian warrior-woman was really badly messed up. K.O. Unconscious. She only took four hit-points worth of damage, but immediately fell to the floor, in a bad way. Gerhard then also took one to the arm, the next round. (Two natural twenties in a row!) This time a severity level seventeen harsh! He was taken down to only a handful of H.P. (Two, I think). Then the immortal Shirawaz and Oleanne arrived on the scene, healed the pair of them (they just happened to have a pair of Cure Critical Wounds scrolls on them…) then slunk off again in to the undergrowth. The two warriors hammered the evil shape-shifter, it was close. They found a shed load of scætta, florins and sovereigns on the dead doppelganger. Gerhard also found a Bone Saw of Optimal Yields. Here endeth the session.

by Maxen » Mon Mar 28, 2011 11:31 am
Short But Sweet Rovusession

Written at 1:19 afore midi on the 28th of Mars, in this the year 2011 Anno Domini. Stay on the flex.

Ezekiel the human Monk from Stonæ clung to a damp moss-covered wall, in shackles, surrounded by other prisoners. He tried using his Ironskin to prepare himself for the impending shock of trying his Eagle Claw artial arts manoeuvre, to try and force the shackles out of the wall, unfortunately t’was to little or no avail (he rolled a critical failure but his Opportunist talent let him swing it by just enough, so he avoided any nasty results rolling on the D1000 fumble table). One of the prisoners to Ezekiel’s left started making a loud racket; another prisoner next to him started humming a low drone-like noise, chanting. The noisy prisoner was instantly made still. Then light spilled through the door of the cell-block as phosphor lamps burned brightly from outside. Noise drifted through the dank corridor, low snarling grunts of orcish, followed by the sound of an alarm being raised.

“Shoot!”, said Maggy McFinnigan II in annoyance, as the young half-elven rogue-mage sprung a hidden trip-wire in the undergrowth. The whole forested undergrowth outside of the keep was lit up like new-year Hogmonay. (She rolled a critical failure on her Stealth roll) Trailing behind her, not far, and hidden well within the folds of the bushes in her Cloak of Elvenkind was Maggy’s mother, her royal princess Maud McFinnigan-Reginaulde I (half-elven rogue, smuggler package). Heir to the throne of the Elfaen-isle, Fernwick, and O’Finniga. Mother and daughter looked about with their keen-elven senses to spy four or so orcs, coming out from beyond the keep, to investigate the source of the intrusion. The two regents were on a diabolic, insidious mission of regicide. The rumour about Milborne town was that Sophia of Eltharion, last remaining heir to the Elfæn-Kingdom was trapped inside the broken-spire keep. The evil queens conspired against their rival, compelled to seek her out whilst in isolation, and secure their claim to the throne.

Meanwhile, back down below, Paco-Jay Meadri, the black-elf death-mage watched Ezekiel then thought to himself, why not try that. Having only a meagre 6% chance to succeed, he rolled them bones and boom! He made it! Immediately striking the shackles on Ezekiel to try and liberate his comrade, Paco-Jay’s strikes were initially ineffective, but on the third hit, he managed it, the manacle failing it’s saving throw vs. crushing blow. They still had the cell doors to get through, and could see from up the stairwell, at least a dozen orcs moving with speed in the distance. They seemed to be going somewhere, away from the prison complex.

The minute she spied the orcs, Maud shot an arrow at an incoming greenskin, the arrow struck the orc in the gullet, but the monster kept on coming, unfettered it snapped the arrow-shaft off and moved towards the two elven maidens. Maggy cast, an incandescent breath of flame lept forth from her fingers, a scorching gout of fire knocked out three orcs, just coming out of the keep gates. Turns out it was actually merely an illusionary Phantasmal Fireball, did the trick nicely. Maud’s second bow-shot went wide, her trained pet ferret went to fetch the stray arrow.

Downstairs, Sgt. Lyn S. Cassidy, Jedi Warrior used his mental prowess to open the lock on the cell door. He had been blathering earlier about some things unfamiliar to our friends. Power-outlets, light-bulbs, strange bizarre sounding words to the antiquated heroes of yesteryear. (He’s from the future, based on George Clooney’s character in The Men that Stare at Goats) Alas, the three of them heading out forgetting about Sophia, leaving the other prisoners behind. So Lyn, Paco-Jay and Ezekiel moved outside. Lyn headed up the line cautiously. Then Paco-Jay came flying out from behind him, his manacles slamming against an orcs head, smashing it into the wall. The orc flailed about, failed his Threshold of Pain check, and slumped to the floor, brown bread. Lyn tried to use the Echmeir Technique knife-aficiando attack (even though he was unarmed). He fell flat on his face, rolling a 1, fumble! This gave a one of the bad-guys attacking him +2 to hit for the remainder of the encounter. Anyway. Ezekiel whirled about using a combination of Pain Touch and Stunning Touch strikes using his mental-focus Sung Hoy style martial arts manoeuvres. He failed to pull off the Pain but knocked an orc flat on his back with a Called Shot to the neck.

Back outside the castle walls, Maud slipped away into the undergrowth, her Cloak of Elvenkind shifting with the colours of the trees, the only trace of her passing was the sight of a tiny ferret, fetching an arrow to her. Maggy was in hand to hand now, a pair of orcs approaching, one already within striking distance. As the rogue-mage started casting, this prompted the usual attack of opportunity. Maggy made her concentration check easily. Still she took three damage, but kept it together enough to cast Burning Hands downing another pair of greenskins, who writhed around in the flames amidst a burning sea of twigs and branches.

The bad-guys fought back. Boom! Ezekiel was tagged with a Severity Level Five critical hit to the top of his left foot. Apart from having some nasty movement penalties for the time-being, and a bit of permanent scarring, he was okay-ish. The other remaining orcs attacked the three escaping prisoners. One fumbled, several missed, a few hit Paco-Jay but not for much damage. Lyn made it away unscathed luckily.

Maud let loose another arrow, this time a magickal +3 sheaf arrow, wham! Twelve points of damage (a whopping amount for a bow), then her second shot took the last remaining orc in-sight down. We couldn’t decide which was the worse term to use with ladies present: penetration or open-ended double damage. Anyway. Maggy switched to her martial arts, and closed for the attack. Covering the ground between her and the gate. Her mother in tow, not far behind.

Ezekiel regained his composure and wham! A series of Crushing Blow attacks nailed another two orcs out flat! Shame he couldn’t do Follow Through Damage, as a result of the crit’ he took recently. (Damn this new computer roleplaying-aid program Hack-Sack is great for cutting down on the red-tape number crunching, also helping keep track of crit’ effects and stuff. Wicked man!) Anyhow. Where were we. (It’s late and I’m really baked after a mammoth Icewindale after-roleplay session with Saemus. My bard is nearly level six now, woohoo!) Anyhow. Like I was saying, where were we? Oh yes! Paco-Jay tried for a punch, an attempt at knocking out one of the orcses, he hit, striking the greenskin with a glancing blow. The orc sucked it up. Returned the favour by trying to chop Paco up, the orc missed, as did his buddy. Lyn was tagged by an enemy orc. The two elves tried to rush in to help. Ezekiel however started to open up a serious can of whoop-ass on these monsters, striking three successive hits with his open-palm style Crushing Blow downing orc after orc. Even Paco-Jay was wrestling with them, getting the enemy into holds, throws, and finally, when the bad-guys had failed there morale check, managed to clobber one over the head with a stray torch, unlit (he played a coupon that granted him additional attacks for next three rounds). Ezekiel also managed a hit on the fleeing orcs. However, everyone had to get going, and we wrapped it up there. It’s nice to have the band back together after such a lull. Ezekiel made it to level three, as did Paco-Jay Meadri, Maggy is very near her next levels on both her mage and rogue sides, and Maud has almost reach level nine smuggler. See you all very soon for the next session, which should be a whole lot more regular now thank goodness. Woohoo! Rovus on! Stay on the flex y’all! Max-out.

by Maxen » Wed Apr 06, 2011 3:41 pm
(This is a preliminary thread, I am typing it up as we speak, so watch out, stay on the flex, never mind all the rest)

The Tower of Craggen Vale (On the flex rovus adventure based loosely on The Citadel of Chaos and The Forest of Doom Fighting-Fantasy game-books, numbers two and three respectively.

April foolsday rovusesh’ written up at 3 A.M., April, 2011 A.D.

Glastonb’ry the one-eyed, one-legged beggar walked through the streets in the village of Milborne. Local youths threw stones at him, he was shunned and marginalised in society, Glaston’ trudged on unfettered. It seemed to him that he had had just about enough he could take for today. Picking up his begging bowl and megre coppers, he walked out beyond the village, through the forest of Yore, and further into the willow-vale. The old veteran reached the stream running near Black-Tower, only to notice a boyish looking warrior striding through the undergrowth. Tehlu Aguna spied the grizzled old cripple, saying hello. She had been looking for a potential street-urchin hireling, a would-be henchman, with the possibility of prepping a P.P.C. (potential player character, in Hack-Master, the mentor-protegé system) yet after giving Glaston’ a quick once-over, she considered him not fit for service, on account of him being an amputee, having only one eye, and indeed only one arm in working order. He looked pretty depressed as well.

The two parted ways amicably. As the charlatan from Stonæ moved towards the site of broken-spire, the entrance ruin to the secluded Black-Tower, she came across some people. Namely Ezekiel (also from the city of Stonæ) and Paco-Jay Meadri, recognising her comrade in arms, Tehlu hailed Paco, who nodded in recognition. The black-elven death-mage was taking the armour off a fallen orc prison-guard, and donning it himself. After getting something to cover the prison rags he had been adorned in, Paco dressed, then introduced Tehlu to Ezekiel, and another mysterious new-comer who went by the name of Bodrik the black-elf, another adventurer. Who had materialised seemingly out of nowhere, and was a complete stranger to the home-grown crew, but was welcomed on the fact that they needed a cleric. (The usual necessities, we needed a healer. Not that priests of Kazar’freem can actually heal nor enter hand-to-hand combat, sheesh!) So the fellowship would have to make do with the charges remaining on Tehlu’s Staff of Healing, she didn’t let slip that she was capable of casting Druid-spells, ergo: healing, and she could cast Wizard-spells, the charlatan kept it all under-wraps, telling the two new-comers that she was in-fact a he (with the aid of the Hat of Disguise), and that he was a warrior, a fighter. Anyway, let’s get back to cases. The rogues and mages looted the bodies, while the clerics and monks sat back looking upon the scavengers, in disgust. Tehlu merely smiled, as did Paco, who took only one lone gold-piece for his share (the death-mage had all of his worldly possessions recently taken off of him. Having busted out of the joint, then managed to liberate his new-found companion Ezekiel, last sesh’).

Maud McFinnigan went in search of her rival, Sophia of Eltharion (both N.P.C.‘s for this session), but neither princess could find each other. It was whispered in the wind that Mauds’, daughter: Maggy McFinnigan the second could be on her way to broken-spire, sometime in the not too distant future. Meanwhile, the new-comer, Bodrik the black-elven zealot recounted the tale of the Black-Tower, about how the evil-overlord Balthrus Dire was planning on taking over the Craggen Vale, and beyond, all the way to the forest of Yore, and the whole of willow-vale.

The four heroes (Tehlu, Paco-Jay, Ezekiel and Bodrik) came to the front gate of the citadel. Paco and Ezekiel decided to tell these misshapen monstrosities what-for by demanding to see their employer, about recovering their lost personal effects. The ape-headed dog-like creature asked for money. Bodrik cast Detect Evil, the guards grew wary and cautious before realising t’was not an offensive spell. Tehlu, who had been buttering them up before hand, fast-talked her way in by some smooth blagging, she did not have to pay the bribe. Paco used his only coin to pay for passage through the tower entrance. Bodrik was just about to pay the man and waltz through before his friend Ezekiel said, “I wouldn’t usually ask for much money, any in-fact, but I think I may need to borrow a gold-peice.” The kindly priest payed for his monk friends’ bribe as well as his own.

Once through the gates, differences of opinion about what to do were divided. Initially Ezekiel suggested sticking together, whilst Bodrik was in favour of spreading out. Then Ezekiel went off on his own, using his Levitate monk ability, as well as his martial-arts manoeuvre All-round sight to be aware of the bizarre shadowy figures the could see inhabiting the darkness. Tehlu stood and surveyed what she could of the scene. Bodrik followed in close behind Ezekiel, who floated along only to have an arrow whisk past him. Trying to identify the source of the mysterious missile, he could not do so, only reading some guy in front of Paco-Jay. Who had by this time, made his way around the walled edge of the courtyard, only to happen upon this geezer.

The man was obviously in pain, evidently having been hit about the head with some sort of blunt instrument. He begged for the fellow-wizard to use this spell-book and components to cure him of his ailments (Paco gains the spell-book The Tome of Craggen-Vale containing the following dweomers: Extra Sensory Perception, Fireball: Sidewinder – Factor I, Phantasmal Force, Levitate, Magick Shield, and Ray of Enfeeblement)

The spells written therein that only function within the area between the forest of Yore, and willow-vale were: Creature Copy, Fool’s Gold, Luck and Strength spells. Paco-Jay, being a good-natured soul, immediately tore out the page of the only healing-type spell in there, and cast Strengthen Stamina on the guy, ruining the reverse-side spell Skill Boost, both spells perishing instantaneously. (I completely forgot as the Grift-Meister that necromancy specialists aren’t allowed to cast spells which aid any living creatures). It’s just as well: turns out the wounded guy was in the last stages of becoming a magickally-animated lifeless zombie, so he turned around and bit Paco-Jay on the arm!

While all this excitement was going on, Tehlu spied the two groups, considering carefully which one to follow. For a while Bodrik back-pedalled, pondering to retrace his path back to where Paco was, before going forward behind Ezekiel. Another arrow shot out from the darkness. Again our front-fighter monk tried for an untrained Juggling skill-check, failing. I think Bodrik passed his, tossing the third arrow out of the air to the floor. Ezekiel made a dash for the fountain in the centre of the courtyard, he got clipped on the way there, by another trio of arrows, but he made it. As did Bodkin. Paco-Jay fended off the ungrateful dead, knocking the zombie guy out senseless before patting him down for valuables. Tehlu followed in the direction of the teams holy-men, took an arrow-hit then cleared the distance between he and they.

The fountain actually turned out to be a temple of zyandal, the black-elven spider-queen.

Three gremlins flew around as many chalices in a stone temple. They sipped from the vessel with the pestle: the brew that is true. A grey, murky liquid seemed to be making the imps laugh, before noticing the home-brew boys, and scarpering, sharpish. The other two goblets were filled with a reddish liquid, another chalice was a clear liquid, like water. Ezekiel being in the lead was first to sample the victuals. The grey milky fluid giving him a buzzing sensation, making him giddy, light-headed. He started to laugh, then thought he’d try a bit of the red-liquid. This caused a potion mixture mishap (another reason for playing Hack-Master) so anyway, poor old Ezekiel was unfortunately unaware of this particular nuance of the ruleset, and after he had declared his action, mixed the two. Some weird effect happened, can’t remember what, then Ezekiel vomited, went outside for some fresh-air. Just then Bodrik, second on the scene, thought it’d be fun to mix up all three, the concoction fizzing and fuming, thought he’d give it a go anyway, ended up in a puddle of potion after a subsequent explosion. The group left hurriedly after that. Moving swiftly on. They snuck past the hidden sharpshooters, and double backed to where Paco was. Who, by now, had discovered some sort of pipeline running just proud of the floor. As the others arrived, Chopper (Bodrik’s elven wardog Animal Companion) sniffed at the drain. As soon as his sensitive nose connected with the drain, it lept up out of the air and grabbed the poor warhounds’ leg.

The others tore in there attacking the thing, punching, kicking and cutting with little or no effect. They tried to free the hampered dog before Chopper used his Entangle spell-ability to animate the thing away. Sniffing about for any sign of the horrid tentacle lingering, Chopper found a rock that crumbled, giving way to a lever, one telepathic bark later and the home-brew boys found a secret passageway into the citadel. In actual fact I will ’fess up and tell you people about what actually happened. I had several instances of the Citadel of Chaos open and must have flicked to the wrong paragraph, as I sit here later on trying to figure out what in the hell happened, I realised that the team never encountered the guardian of the inner citadel, which they would have to have done, had I been more on the flex.

On the way through the tunnel they just happened to bump into Maggy McFinnigan the second. Who was wandering the corridors searching aimlessly for adventure, well primarily the loot. The fellowship now numbered five. Journeying on they came to a door. Maggy picked the lock then peering inside. She beheld the sight of a very small man whom she recognised, hovering above a table, asleep.

He seemed incredibly familiar from somewhere. Then it came to her. From the royal gallery she had seen old oil-paintings of her ancestor – O’Seamus the Leprechaun. Father of Sæmus O’Finnigan the first. Before she could think another thought a missile flew towards her. Warily everyone drew their weapons before a flying tomato hit Maggy squarely in the face. The monk moved forward, O’Seamus opened an eye, smiled, laughed and told them t’was but a joke, in his Eire-like brogue. He warmly extended a hand to the monk, who readily accepted the offer of friendship from a would-be new acquaintance. The nerves gave out on the monks’ arm (who was now at -1 to hit for the time being) as his hand ceased up. Before he could do a thing, O’Seamus seemed to have turned into a dummy, which he could not let go of. While feeling gradually returned to his arm, Ezekiel span about to see the little leprechaun appear behind him. Laughing again the monk took it on the chin, so to speak. Anyway, after deciding not to beat on the little prankster, the group asked his advice about the way ahead. The leprechaun advised against going the way they were but that only three doors lay ahead to choose from. Brass, copper, and bronze handled doorways. His clue was, “Two of the doors are very dangerous, and one is a bit funky. Let’s see…I would not take the one two doors to the left of the copper-handled one, nor the door to the right of the bronze-handled one.” After the team drawing maps of the area, discussing in-depth about which door to take, they settled on the copper-handled one. Tehlu cast Hypnotism on Mr. O’Seamus. Who failed both his Magick Res’ roll and his spell-save’. Sure enough the little leprechaun guinea-pig had to take his own advice, there was a flash, followed by a guttural snarl then a scream. Maggy looked in horror as she saw her grand-daddy go down a corridor, round a corner, then get splattered against the opposite wall, claret all over the joint. She tried to recover what was left of his remains only to fall back to central (the three doors chamber).

They tried another door. This time some invisible stalker started grabbing at them so they fell back. Trying the last door, the corridor crept round and back on itself, before coming out where O’Seamus could still be seen being ripped to pieces. Trying again to help the little man, the whole team lapsed into unconsciousness, simultaneously. The scene faded, then reappeared as though through misty rippling water, the sound of a harp running up and down the scale could be heard, as they returned to reality. It had all been an elaborate illusion, by O’Saemus, who was perfectly fine. Giggling away. “You are indeed good sports, and the way ahead is fraught with danger. Take these.” said Seamus, offering the home-grown crew a silver mirror and a magick-sword (a Bastard Sword+1). He also bestowed upon Paco-Jay a spell-book, after hearing mention of his plight, having lost all his gear. Grandaddy Seamus gave him the gift of the Shadowtome. He also gave his only grand-child two tomes. A double-whammy Codicil of Snilloc the White, and also one entitled “Diary of the Dales” but was actually called Against the Undead (so as not to offend Paco-Jay the death-mage). Last but not least, Seamus gave the only other wizardly type a spell-book, a copy of the fabled Travelling Spell-Book of Elminster. (All these liber were from Pages from the Mages, 2nd edition Fading Realms import jobbie, Maxi-Flex.) The three doors remained ahead of them, perhaps for real this time.

Taking the copper-handled door, the team wound up in a wine-cellar. that was manned by a proud black-elf vintner. He spoke well of his own home-made vintage wines, some of which had magickal properties. Bodrik tried the red, it revitalised him completely (restoring 2 Hit-Points, as well as giving the first taster of the wine present a +3 to all d20 rolls for the remainder of the adventure.) The (at this point) still badly wounded Ezekiel tried some red, then a dash of white, which was awful and made him wretch. Tehlu tapped him with a charge from the Staff of Healing.

Man, it’s like 6:30 afore midi here, and I have a gig today, I should totally get some zee’s but I just love slinging dice, rolling, home-style. It’s fuzzy on the edge of my vision with fatigue. It’s not like we even roasted any Icewindale this evening, it’s just that the adventure ran until it’s conclusion for once, which was nice for a change. Even if only two of them had enough ‘grit to finish the last round’. Still, that’s reflected in the Exp. gravy-train that the remaining duo rode later on, cleaning up. ANYhow. Wagwan? On the flex. Twifter-time. B.R.B.

Maggy McFinnigan singed up for the Rosérum wine tasting, truth-telling therapy session. That’s right, the crafty black-elf vintner had slipped her some truth-serum wine. She soon sang like tweety-pie! Much to the other players’ amusement. Meanwhile, the drayman offered them some more of his red, magickal healing wine. Then departed gracefully, immediately running and telling Balthrus Dire everything of the home-brew crew’s plan to foil his impending invasion, by assassinating him. Alas, the home-grown crew were hot on his tail. The sneaky little black-elf had locked the door behind him. Someone asked, “Can anyone open locks?” to which Maggy, whilst still under the effects of the serum replied truthfully, “Yes!” She proceeded to open the locked door. The posse gave chase.

Giving chase after the fleeing sound of footsteps, the team eventually came to a door, after negociating a set of windey tunnels and stairs. They entered the following room. Seeing three treasure chests, set into what looked like dried mud. A crudely carved stone statue, table, and chair, as well as a door on the opposite wall. Some of our team tried communicating with the statue, who stood still, inanimate, lifeless. Maggy went for the chests, and managed to get the first one open with another successful Open Locks check, it had inside a silver-key. To which the Stone Golem suddenly came to life, striding towards our people. (This beast is worth a whopping eight-grand Exp.) Roll initiative time boys! Spells were let off, the posse tried their best to wallop the thing. They soon realised it needed 2 or better weapons to hit, Ezekiel tried Crushing Blow as it’s tailored to work against stone, (monks’ hands don’t count as magickal weapons in this edition, it’s hardcore not pussy-whipped!) I let him off, saying that if he managed to accrue enough damage to crush 2” of stone, that it would work, seeing as it was the most appropriate course of action, within his power. He tried, rolled ‘dem bones, failing by only 2%. Close, but no cigar. Tehlu went for a spell, cancelled then had a mishap as a result, rolling some unfortunate result on the D1000 wild-surge style table in the GMG; it can’t have been that bad as she walked away with only a minor disadvantage to her character. She then clobbered it for a shed-load with her Scimitar2. Maggy recovered some of the stone to use in a Glitterdust spell. Bodrik invoked his Djinn Tornado spell-ability from being a Wind-Walker priest career. It tore the golem up for ten points or so. Maggy used her unidentified magickal arrows to great effect, damaging it some. Tehlu ended up battering it down with a load of attacks from her magickal Scimitar+2. Maggy tried to Open Locks on the remaining two chests. It didn’t work. Neither did forcing the locks. So she tried the silver-key in the lock, it fit! Inside this container was a green-coloured key. Which opened the third box, which had in it a jar, containing a spider. After a moments inspection, the weird little creature seemed to have the face of an old man. Paying it no mind, the crew moved on.

(Next evening write-up, I’m wired, just as tired, somewhat less drunk, but far more chilled-out. Hobbit-style.) Getting back on the flex, the team left the Golem room, opened the door, and stepped forward into a passageway, which ran eastwards for several yards, then came to an end at the foot of a staircase. Climbing the stairs, the U.H.G.C. (Underground Home-Grown Crew) found themselves in another narrow passageway. It came out into a large, well lit room. By the way, I’d like to thank the late Lynard Skynyrd for getting me through this write up, as well as my inspiration: Kelly Joe Phelps. Man I’ve been cookin’ wit’ gas on the steel-string gee-tar, that gig was flippin’ mEnTaL! I went on after s- sorry. I digress. Focus Maxy. So the U.H.G.C. reached the dining hall.

Bodrik inspected some of the armour on the wall. Listen man, I’m gonna call it a night, what having work in the morning, night people. I just made it back from work, tired, hungry, and cannot be bothered to write any more, but will type up the showdown they had with Balthrus Dire as soon as I can>

Next sesh we’re due to see the return of Sophia, I’ve managed to twist his arm into attending, if only to settle the honour duel biatch-fight between her and Maud. For the crown. The Elfaen-Forest. The power and the glory. I’m not sure who would win, so have no favourite either side. Also, ‘tis the Grift-Meisters’ job to keep things fair, remain neutral, impartial to his duties of arbitration. Even so, it could go either way (this isn’t fourth edition, if it were Sophia wouldn’t stand a chance, due to the difference in levels) anyway, Maud is nearly a ninth level smuggler, (in the red corner) who is I fear, not wanting to show her rival any sort of mercy (hence the usual confines of an honour duel will not apply so much, i.e. Not killing, nor using any weapons, magick or armour!) So, (in the green corner) comes the formidable Sophia of Eltharion, level four (I think) Battlemage, who is likely to spank Maud with a shed load of spells, if it does get out of hand, and if Maud’s daughter, Maggy (heaven forbid) should pile in there, I figure that it is only fair to bring in the rest of the Eltharion family dynasty to Sophia’s side. Which will of course, entail the other side of the royal court getting involved (wait for it) meaning the return of the evil magelord-racketeer Sæmus O’Finnigan the first. Before this whole train-wreck of a campaign sparks of some kind of P.vs.P bloodbath, I will attempt to avert disaster by advising the players to settle their score honourably. Not the old irish way (3.5) of having no honour, and fighting to kill, but instead, bowing to the almighty Hack-Master, Queensbury house-rules. First to three knock downs (although I will allow as G.M. a successful wrestling pin attempt. By this I mean, maintaining a hold for three rounds. One! Two! Three! And he’s outta there!) Although I am much more of a boxing aficionado myself, having Conan as company over the years has given me a reluctant fondness for wrestlers. Usually from watching UFC, betting on the boxer, then often loosing the sportsmans bet and some face. Anyhow, y’all. See you soon. Stay on the flex.

Addenum: well, looks like we’re all set for the next session, in the blazing hot sunshine of this rather unusually scorching April. It could be that we’re doing Hannibal’s campaign this week, so Ezekiel and Bodrik will have to run NPC’s for the moment (until they take the time to make new characters, we’ve spent the last few session sitting rolling up characters so have been unable to start for quite some time.) so anyway, it looks to be good, might be alright. I still have the remainder of the last session to write up so that’ll take some time. I am actually really busy with Dr. Faustus and my university thesis. It’s really intense, and pitches way above the heads of American Trash (a.k.a. Fantasy Books which we all so love to immerse ourselves in) try reading Elizabethan literature, it’s far superior to fantasy rubbish! The quality of the writing back then is so much more polished, eloquent. It’s unbelievable inspiration for making my campaign setting, and roleplaying system. Which, by the way, is coming along famously. We have the art piling in now, and I have written a wealth of material for it. Stay on the flex y’all. Max-out.

by Maxen » Mon Apr 11, 2011 7:20 pm
Last half of the session: A concise write up from a patchy memory of what might have happened.

So, where were we? Oh yes, Bodrik inspected a suit of plate armour on backed against the wall, it began to move as though animated by some unseen spirit. Gazing in awe of this life-like dynamic object, it was suddenly still as quickly as it started to move. Eerily quiet, the armour stood static. Bodrik tried it on, it didn’t fit.

Meanwhile, someone went to look at the paintings adorning the walls. No-one had the needed Art Appreciation skill in order to be any sort of authoritative critique. Having no frame of reference, the un-educated observer lost a wound due to being instilled with a sense of dread, from the imposing nature of the masterpiece. There stood Balthrus Dire, a terrifying image. Even so, the onlooker felt better for having seen their opponent, gleaning some knowledge of what was to come (gaining +1 on all rolls for the remainder of the adventure.)

The team entered a brightly coloured room filled with mannequins. Some small creatures with green skin played. An open chest could be seen in the room. Paco-Jay gave them some of his rations, the orcish-type children seemed distracted enough by this for Maggy McFinnigan II to peruse the chest, it was just filled with toys and junk. The crew crept past and headed down the corridor.

I realise that I messed up again here, being one paragraph out of sync. The team entered a room haunted by spirits. They were unable to effect the spirits with any spells, nor items they had found along there journey. They were flung from the tower, taking 3D6 H.P. worth of falling damage. Dusting themselves off, they began to decide upon another course of action. The crew needed a rest, to heal-up, and re-memorize spells. I had been pushing them forward hard, creating a sense of urgency. So they kept the momentum going on for the moment, finding themselves in the courtyard once more. They spied a whirling shape. that soon seemed to knock people off there feet. The priest Bodrik said, “I could try and command her.” My knee-jerk automatic response was “Priests do not have special powers to do so.” to which he quite rightly replied, “This one does! I’m running a specialist-priest of Kazar’freem, god of the air, it’s one of my few special abilities.” So with that, it saw the whirlwoman off.

They then saw two groups of figures, they encountered these two fellows here. They were arguing over the price of a dagger. The newcomers (U.H.G.C) were asked how much it was worth, Ezekiel said it was worth only a little coin (he was a monk and therefore not materialistic). The little man (in the picture) was most upset at hearing this, telling everybody that it’s value was assured, due to the fine craftsmanship and gemstones set into it’s hilt. The little guy was peeved at hearing this opinion, a fight ensued. The team bested the little man easily.

Deciding to leave the Black-Tower, the crew headed out. Bodrik and Ezekiel headed back to Milborne, whilst Maggy and Tehlu passed the night in the forest of Yore. As the azure sunset of dusk covered the sky, they passed Yazotromo’s tower only to find it raised to the ground, and the duo also discovered a hidden stash of items: several magick Potions including Healing, Plant Control, Stillness, Insect Control & Anti-Poison; they also happened upon a vial of Holy Water, a Net of Entanglement, a Rod of Water-finding, some Buds of Wild-Garlic, three Fire-Acorn Capsules and a pair of Nose Filters. They decided to strike out further into the forest, lest whoever burned the tower down came back.

The night passed uneventfully. When the two awoke, they found some strange purple mushrooms. Maggy gathered a few carefully, for later inspection. Whereas the bold Tehlu just took some for the crack. He had eaten mix-up mushrooms, swapping out his Luck talent bonus (+1 on all D20 rolls) for his STR To-Hit bonus, for the remainder of the adventure. While initially annoyed by this, when we all worked out that this would actually benefit his character for the time-being, Tehlu was calm once more.

A little lost, the two rogues headed north, then the pathway turned eastwards, then north again. The two happened upon a Treeman. Maggy cast Wall of Fire burning his companion badly but also slaying the Ent. Alas, they healed up and tried to find there way back to Black-Tower. They did so in good time, without so much complication. Passed the usual two door-guards, paying the nominal bribe of one gold-penny (a half-crown or sceattæ), then once inside, the two adventurers happened upon a camp fire, with some suspicious looking likely characters sat about it.

An orc seemed to be giving out meet, a couple giggled playfully, and the other figure regarded the newcomers with disdain. The two adventurers decided to ask them if it was alright to join them. They were received with a warmer reaction than the initially frostiness. The orc even opened up to them, sharing a password, telling the U.H.G.C. that in order to pass, they need give the word “Scimitar.” Then the people started getting agitated as the U.H.G.C. showed an over-active interest in the vial of liquid they were arguing over. Curious as to what was inside the vial, the group of orcs and the gully dwarf lept up and attacked. The woman screamed. It wasn’t long before our heroes made mincemeat of the monstrosities. The vial turned out to be near-useless. Such a high price paid in blood for a near feckless item. Oh well. As per usual, they patted down the slain greenskins, then made there way to where the tentacle was, and into the secret passage leading to the dining hall. Up the staircase, the two came into another room containing a Hydra!

The fighting was fierce. After a very very tough struggle, Tehlu managed to sever four of the things six heads. It slunk back out in to the next room. Our charlatan was down to only seven or so hit-points, and even the mage Maggy was down to half her H.P. Even so, the two pushed on. (Please whoevers reading this realize that so far the U.H.G.C. have taken-down a stone-golem and a six-headed hydra, and they’re only fourth level on average, also, each of those beasts are worth nine or so grand in Exp. Value! No way could that ever happen in fourth edition/world of wakraft) Anyway. Cue Carmine Burana by Orff (the music from the 1980’s Old-Spice advert’ somewhat akin to the choral theme in the film Phantom Menace) as it was the final showdown with the bad-ass Balthrus Dire himself.

There lay before them, a scene of willow-vale in miniature, battle forces deployed in a strategic map, with many miniature models, representing his various regiments, laid out on a field of scenic grass. As Balthrus healed the wounded Hydra, so did Tehlu try and heal himself and his companion. It wasn’t long before everybody was out of spells. Seeing as Balthrus Dire is effectively a 19th level spell-sword, it didn’t look like the two stood much of a chance. I evened the odds a little by having grandaddy Seamus and his son Saemus O’Finnigan staple a Hat of Stupidity to Balthrus’ head before he entered combat, rendering all his spell-casting useless. Then Saemus and son became invisible and scarpered, as per usual. Anyway, the wounded, but headless Hydra was finally taken-down by Tehlu, after a long, drawn-out struggle. Balthrus Dire was still a formidable opponent, apart from the fact that he was not proficient in his main weapon (mages are not allowed to be trained in scimitars in this system, and rightfully so, they’re too powerful as it is!), so Balthrus took the usual to-hit penalties for wizards, using weapons they’re not permitted (a whopping -8 to hit, but being 19th level meant Balthrus was still hitting them on the roll of a four or more on a D20), alas, Maggy tried to use her Cricket In The Pea-Pod skill to try and get behind the nineteenth level battlemage. She failed. She also went for the back-stab in the following rounds, three times she made her Stealth roll, and was able to move in position, but thrice she failed her attack roll, even with the huge +4 bonus! Tehlu took crit’ resulting in him dropping his weapon, he started using his bare fists Fung Chi stylee to fight off the Hydra, as makeshift fighter, albeit with a to-hit matricies of a wizard! All seemed lost. At this point the team were bleating, whining, in desperation. Someone else appeared, a familiar face that had been shadowing them since the adventure began, seeking Tehlu’s approval. Glasters the beggar-man waded into Balthrus Dire, from out of nowhere, and boom! Yep, you guessed it! A nat’ 20! He caused serious bleeding after rupturing Balthrus Dire’s spleen. Landing a severity level seven critical hit on the enemy battlemage. The U.H.G.C. managed to hold out for another four rounds (but only just!) before surviving that near impossible adventure: the Citadel of Chaos.

That was one hell of a session. Tehlu is now leve six (I think), whilst Maggy has nearly levelled up on both her mage and rogue sides (about six-grand, that’s twelve effectively until she’s headin’ on up). This session we didn’t have anyone turn up, except my good friend Saemus, we roasted some Icewindale, my bard is now officially level six! As for next time, I hope the fellowship re-forms. I just bumped into Bodrik and he said he’d be there next time, which means Ezekiel should be as well. Maggy will be here. I don’t know about the others.

by Maxen » Wed May 11, 2011 4:30 pm
A one-time appearance from Paco-Jay this time running a Beast-Friend (aka Animalist) with fellow adventurers Maggy McFinnigan and Valraven. They all mooched on through the forest, o’er hills, from dappled dale to down-trodden swamps, the mire. The Underground Home-Grown Crew (U.H.G.C.) happened upon some wildcats while they slept. It was a fierce encounter, which took all night to resolve, I recall our Beast-Master character using Druid spells to some effect on the dozen or so Snattacats that attacked the U.H.G.C.. Maggy Cained them with spells, took some damage while she was in there, as did our Beast-Friend. Alas Valraven wasted some wildcats, so did his comrades. One failed morale check, and an attack of opportunity later and the Snattacats were history.

After pressing on through the swamp, Valraven and Maggy stumbled across an irate man, dressed in pelts, with two wolves accompanying him the wolf-man bade them leave his home. Our heroes after some deliberation, decided not to slay him and did as they were asked, moved back out of the swamp and headed to the city of Port Orphalese.

Along the way the tribe met Tehlu Aguna, also Ezekiel and Bodrik. At the gates, a mean looking guard eyed them warily. His insignia blazoned onto his armour, denoted a serviceman of high rank, really someone. He asked for a bribe. This didn’t bother Tehu who immediately offered to ‘service him’ (du pip’) and the scamster made it passed without paying the gold crown bribe.

The others had to cough up. Just after Tehlu had finished her dirty work, she rifled through the guys pockets (failed pickpocket attempt) and the guard started to kick off, until Valraven used Paralyzing Touch Martial Arts ability to put the guy out. Then Tehlu and Valraven started to bicker in the busy city streets, as the guard slept like a baby. Paco-Jay (who was playing Paco-Jay this day) cast Ray of Enfeeblement after Valravens second Paralyzing Touch attack, put all combatants – except for the wizards – frozen, unabe to act. Once they’d recovered their senses, the posse put aside their differences and sketched off before the guard woke. The U.H.G.C. had to now bribe another two guards to gain access to the city park: Tehlu got down and dirty again, went to work with the CoMeatSandwich, they passed them without too much excess saliva. Everyone was happy, especially the guards.

They sneaked off left down Silversmith Street, to the park. Here they saw an overgrown fountain, mossy, lush. A breeze blew, the leaves in the trees swirled, formed into a cyclone, a dust devil shape. One stuck to Valraven, burning his skin, he tore it off. Everyone attacked the sea of magickally animated living leaves from fireweed plants. Spells worked to great effect, especially Telhu’s fire-based attacks, Maggy’s cold (Icy Spehere) even Paco-Jay beat down a load with his staff.

After a final explosive fire-spell from Tehlu, they moved passed the vanquished living plant, only to see the three guards Tehlu had serviced gossiping, pointing in there direction. More guards were alarmed. A right royal panic ensued. Lord Mayor Hazzur could be heard, arriving in his coach. The U.H.G.C. slayed the three guards with seeming ease, and the dozen halfling-thug militia armed with crossbows, sent in to mow them down. Lord Hazzur arrived, running over an old bag-lady, trampled beneath the hooves and wheels of his coach. A team of wizards and priests surrounded him, began chain casting Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere (old skool 2nd ed.import) they conversed with U.H.G.C. who refused to be of service to the city. Things calmed down.

Then they came across a boy with an apple cart, Paco-Jay bought some, he was ill. After that, the team passed an old rubbish bin, it had some dusty old boots in there, Paco-Jay found some Boots of Elvenkind by chance, none too shabby.

They left the city after dressing down some more guards, came across a pixie-wolf, tough fight, it turned out to be an illusion (“it was all just a dream…”), then while exploring the forest they happened upon a lake, where they were attacked by a Kraken they slayed it after a tough and lengthy combat. Then some bats attacked, and a Nandibear, and that’s as far as we played. I realize this was a concise write up. It doesn’t really do justice to the lengthy thread I have written over this last couple of years. However, it does kinda sum up my feelings about rovus at the moment. My heart is not in it. After seeing three dire attempts at G.M.ing, I thought Paco-Jay was bad (issuing random experience points, WTF?!?!) but then I played when Valraven give us ten-grand Exp. just for accepting the mission!? Um, yeah. WHATever! Also, some personal problems…

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