Snuggle Nook

Second Futuristic Session
New Planet

Mephistopheles and Zeriul were the welcoming reception for two new recruits to the Occīsus Excubiae: a Knightemplar Marīnus Medic and a Ange Sanguine jumpack close-attack Star Soldier. Boarding their new ship – the Vittoria, an ancient, haunted vessel – the team were sent to investigate a recently reactivated beacon signal on the planet Marus: which was thought to be anbdonded millenia ago. The two week voyage was spooky yet uneventful. Upon arrival in the planets orbit, the Marīnus descended in the dropship, everybody was okay, except for the Ange Sanguine, who bubbled then promptly passed out for the duration of the descent.

Our team spread out, de-bused with no sign of life on this frozen world. Mounting the anti-grav’ land-rover, the team kept pace with the Ange Sanguine who sped along on his jumpack. Mephistopheles was still shaken by his lapse toward insanity, acting strange, weird, throughout the whole jaunt. After a little deliberation, the team decided to head straight for the primary objective: the beacon. Parking the anti-grav’ transport, and proceeding on foot, the team moved up.

A blip on their motion-scanners indicated life, human, as soon as the blip appeared, it had gone. Mephistopheles found some tracks, footprints. Being ever assailed by the traumatic images of his bad-trip through the fabric of reality – not two weeks afore – meant he assumed the tracks to be those of hereticultists: their was no evidence for this save Mephistopheles own delusions.

The blip appeared again, then left as soon as it had done so. Mephistopheles had his finger on the hair-pin trigger, scanning the skyline for signs of movement: what he expected to find, daemonic activity. They returned to the anti-grav’ transport, and sped on to the secondary target: the penal colony.

En route they met someone, an old ΙΜΡΕЯΙVΜ mechanist. After gleaning information of the machinists plight, they locked him up, the Marīnus being under orders to do so. This being a penal colony and all. The team investigated a cave complex, only the Ange Sanguine could not fit through the entrance with his jumpack. The three witnessed a corrupting sight. They had stumbled upon a shrine to the dark-gods of Kaos. “I told you this place was infested with dark-forces, I knew it, the moment we found those tracks back there.”, said Mephistopheles.

Upon proceeding further in to the complex, the crew found a reinforced steel door. The power suddenly came on. While deciding where to set the charges to blow the door, Mephistopheles just placed one in the centre, activated it, then shouted “Run!” The team wisely did so, the door came apart, and from the smoky debris was some movement. The motion-scanners confirmed it, a wave of life-signs, headed this way.

Surely it was some Kaostar Soldiers. Zerial tore in to them with his powered arm, the mechanical appendage tore up a Kaostar Soldier in one foul swoop. The Medic let-rip with his blasterifle, taking another one down. The Kaostar troops fought back, chattering railgun fire stitched lines of bullets in to the Techno-Marīnus Zeriul, who was grazed. The Ange Sanguine lept in to the fray slicing a Kaostar Soldier in two with his chainsaw’d. Mephistopheles swung wildly at them with his psychic blade, his sword going wide of the mark. More blasterifle fire from Knightemplar Medic took down another Kaostar warrior. More retaliation, they moved in close now. The Knightemplar took a wicked looking blade, which pierced his armour, wounding him, if only slightly. The same happened to Mephistopheles. The fighting was fierce. Our Ange Sanguine waded in there with his chainsaw’d, his opponent meeting his deathly fate. Mephistopheles having a little more success this time, his psychic sword finding its mark, however he only wounded his Kaostar enemy.

In to the future
Futuristic Robus

Mephisto’ Kryten was born on the planet Finovgorod. As a young child, as with the ancient tradition of Keltoi-Norsemen, his father bade him stand alone ‘gainst a charging sangliyay. A ferocious tusked wilder-beast that roamed the frozen, still, snow-capped mountains of Finovgor’. At the tender age of ten, the young boy Mephistopheles showed no fear in the presence of the Eaorldomen, but felt very, very afraid. Turning terror in to courage, fright in to fearlessness, the boy of only just double-figures took his mortifying rite of passage – to become a man, a young fang.

His father – Kevian Kryten – had noted in his only son a lack of warrior-prowess. In its place, was his mothers soft sensibilities and spiritual side. Thinking something lacking in Mephisto’s heart, passion for the hunt, Kevian took the boy to see the Seer, the high-priest Edred Thorsson. Edred the master Rune-smith told the worried father that a mutation in the gene-seed had ever skipped a generation. T’was the Kryten clan destiny to be both blessed, and cursed, with dark visions.

While out hunting for fish, Mephistopheles encountered a mighty Kraken, slaying the gorgon with much pride, honour, and satisfying his family honour through doing so. In the following formative years Mephistopheles trained to be a vēnātor rāvusor before being apprenticed to the Rune-master Thorsson. The Lupīnus Chapter of the Star Soldiers were posted far and wide, and Mephistopheles served a tough decade fighting his own inner daemons, those of the void, and many a foe: ΙΜΡΕЯΙVΜ troopers transgressing to lawless heretics, incursions against primitive worlds infested with fierce creatures, and battles ’gainst fearsome greekskins, armed and dangerous. Eventually the watchful eye of the imperātor hand-picked Mephistopheles to join the Occīsus Excubiae.

On the planet Illioch he arrived to begin his inauguration along with Zeriul, a member of the Chapter: the Obsidian Spectres. The two recruits were sent deep beneath the spiral city, to observe a xenomorph named only as ‘Species 659’ down in violet zone. The lifthrust descent was fast, industrial portal opened with the sound of scraping steel, grating and wire mesh clad the corridors’ sides. The two proceeded with caution. Μephistopheles lent Zeriul his blast-pistol, the Techno-Marīnus spied a terminal to access. Requiring genetic authorisation, the Techno-Marīnus was nearly shocked with thousands of volts as his hand drew back from the computereader. Trying another method, Zeriul hacked in to the system, managing to access research files and the camerarray.

Zerial observed the adjacent prison cell after briefly gathering information on two files regarding xenomorphs. He could see no-one in the empty cell. After switching to different filters, infa-red, ultra-violet, thermal, et cetera. Then he caught a glimpse of a terrible beast, as soon as he had spied it, t’was gone. Mephistopheles pointed his blasterifle against the plastiglass cell window, lest it threaten them. As Zeriul the Techno-Marīnus scanned through the various frequencies, he would occasionally catch a brief glimpse of it again, until it disappeared. The Star Soldier of the Obsidian Spectres (that is, the Techno-Marīnus: Zeriul) suggested the pair should split up, and patrol the area. Mephistopheles replied “Nay, this is not a good idea. We are but two marīnus and this area is probably teeming with xenomorphs.” After some deliberation, the two agreed to compromise. Mephistopheles took the first patrol, leaving Zerial to continue scanning various frequencies, for signs of hostile alien life forms.

Wishing to remain as quiet as possible, Mephistopheles tried to silence the growling suit of armour that had been granted to him in the initiation, while joining the Occīsus Excubiae in solemnity. The defiant living armour gave a low sinister growl. By force of his psychic will, Mephistopheles tried again. The armour howled with renewed vigour. Annoyed now, Mephistopheles began removing his regimental adornments from the suit of powered protective suit. Beginning with his teutonicross, a badge of honour won by single-handedly besting a kraken, back on Finovgor’. The suit was not at all content, and fought Mephistopheles with his mind.

Meanwhile, Zerial wrote a program to log any successful attempts to locate the correct frequency, that he might spy on the xenomorph. He bade the computerminal to relay any successes back to his communications relay pad. Zeriul also tried to manipulate the sentry guns, without any success. As this was happening, Mephistopheles was further in to the complex, stowing away all other regimental adornments to his armour – furs, teeth, all except his pelt. The armour fought him tooth and nail, mentally. Suddenly, a flash of pain brought Mephistopheles back to reality. By his leg was a small xenomorph, trying to bite through his protective suit with some success. Mephistopheles brought his psychic sword down upon the things head, which exploded in flames.

Taking the only charred remain of the creatures carapace, he picked it up, and attached the trophy where once lay a large tusk. The living suit seemed to approve, and when the vēnātor lupus had put his helm back on, flashing spectrums of light appeared on the vidisplay, movement, more xenomorphs were closing in, fast, on his location. Mephistopheles then re-attached the teutonicross badge from the kraken kill. He radioed in, telling Zeriul to come to his position, for he was heading back to the computerminal. Sure enough, the Star Soldiers were back in formation. Then, an almighty crash sounded as the door between them had some invisible creature attempting to liberate itself from the prison cell. The cell door would not last much longer. To make matters worse, a swarm of smaller xenomorphs were closing in…

Between the two Marīnus lay an angry invisible beast, nearly free from its incarceration, as another huge crashing sound matched a massive lump appearing in the reinforced cell door. The swarm had arrived, Zeriul let-rip with his twin burst-fire pistols. Two of the tiny xenomorphs exploded in flames as the shells connected, finding there intended targets. Mephistopheles hacked at the swarm with his psychic sword, slicing another in flame. The xenomorphs retaliated, spraying acidic liquid over Mephistopheles’ helm, he tried to use his psychic senses to seek out his enemies. This had no success, so he took his helm off.

T’was then, that the invisible xenomorph escaped. It swiped at Mephistopheles, who retaliated with his psychic sword. The crackling energy of the blade met a hardened limb, the xenomorph parried the strike with ease. Mephistopheles dashed past the alien, heading for the lift. Across the communicator, command said that the lifturbo-drop was heading down. More shots rang out as Zeriul suppressed the xenomorphs. “Come on brother!” shouted Mephistopheles across the comm’-net. His keen lupusenses sensed smoke: fire. A roaring crescendo of the lifturbo could be heard. “Get back here and out of the way! I’m about to try and call the avenging angel, to purify these abominable monstrosities.” Zeriul reluctantly did so, squeezing off a few more bursts of his blast-pistols, which went wide of the mark.

Mephistopheles focused, deep in meditation, stirring energy of the void, chanting litany in an attempt to summon the avenging angel…

“Sint mihi dei Acherontis propitii! Valeat numen triplex Yawey! Ignei, aerii, aquatani spiritus, salvete! Orientis princeps Pan-faunus, inferni ardentis monarcha, et Demogorgon, propitiamus vos, ut appareat et surgat Mephistopheles, quod tumeraris: per Yawey, Gehennam, et consecratam aquam quam nunc spargo, signumque crucis quod nunc facio, et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistopheles!"

Something had gone awry… His usual darkened flame lit in the void-space and his mind turned to tearing the fabric of astral space. A portal was opened in the swirling eye of random stars, dæmons tormented the Rune-smith, horrific faces terrified the lupīnus vēnātor. A sea of dæmonic beasts plagued the psychics mind. The avenging angel appeared yet only ethereally, having no effect on the oncoming swarm. The two Marīnus entered the lifturbo upon its crashing arrival. Claws and spores struck out at the Star Soldiers, who were only just able to slam shut the door, and ascend to the upper level. A huge explosion sounded where they had just been.

The debriefing did not go so well, as Zeriul defied orders hacking in to the computerminal. Mephistopheles tried to justify his own advice against the action, yet defended his comrades course. The two Marīnus were dressed down, but told that they passed their first test. The two were told they would be considered for a command position some time in the future. They were given the use of a battle-frigate, complete with dropship, a land-rover tank, and introduced to a third-eye psychic navigator teamember. The next mission: Planet Marus.

Meanwhile … on another, distant planet, somewhere on the outer edge of the cosmos; the Chapter of the lupīnus vēnātor dropped down, descended upon its fecundity. T’was a planet known as L.V.426, named after the species of xenomorph that was known to inhabit the sphere: the xoats. These creatures, the very same that lay prisoner within the bowls of Illioch. A fledgling tribe also climbed the trees of this planet: the Wild-Elfæn Folk of the Forest. Staying to the tree-tops, and being silently watchful of the native species on L.V. 426, the two cultures had lived in relative harmony, ignorance on the part of the gene-brood tyrasaurs, and careful observation by the Wild-Fæ.

Now that the Marīnus lupīnus vēnātor had landed, was a grave concern for species L.V.426 and the Wild-Elfæn Folk alike. A Way-Watcher and a Spell-Singer envoy were sent to communicate with the hive-mind patriarch – both species having forseen their inevitable downfall. Both the alien hive-mind and the normally peaceful tribe of the Elfæn Folk took the only course of action possible for their collective survival. Drawing on an ancient alliance, that betwixt xoats and wood-elves, meant that this coalition was one that had withstood the test of time. Deep rooted harmony had existed once, many moons ago, before the xoats had turned to the dark-side, become more insidious, incongruous, than once they had been, millenia ago, on the olde worlde.

This union of xoats and forest folk had another victory on the planet of Pandora. The distant relatives of the forest people and that of the Na’vi’hœ. Another attempt had been made to annex and exploit the mineral obtanium from planet Pandora. The news of which had travelled throughout the stars, the legendary turuk’maktœh, last shadow-rider [Jacob Suhlee] inspired the xoats and forest people that a victory could be won, against the seemingly invincible forces of humanity.

In the months that followed, preparations were made for the lupīnus vēnātor to guard other regular soldiers of the ΙΜΡΕЯΙVΜ who, in turn, were to protect the civilian contractors: miners, engineers, and scientists. Huge obtanium deposits were found below the planets surface, penciled-in for exploitation by the ΙΜΡΕЯΙVΜ. Both Carnivœx seers and Elfæn warlocks had foreseen the planets’ plight. Immediate action needed to be taken lest the planets people and resources be violated by mans insatiable greed, need to conquor, over all other forms of life.

The fact that their were many more Wild-Elf kin than xenomorphs meant that – for most part – species L.V.426’s feral-nature could be tamed, in accordance with the Patriarchs’ wishes. However, this proved to be a risky engagement because the xenomorphs’ reversion to instinct, the beast within them, may not be always tamed by the hive-minds will. The difficulty would be to keep the hive-mind close to one another, lest the id be let loose, the rage of instability wrecking havoc over the battle-field. The forest folk would defend them from the relative sanctuary of the trees and from the skies. Wild-riders on giant-eagles, massive hawks, descending from the heavens.

Seas of Snuggle-Nook
The Third Generation of Tadisaga

Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon’s Campaign Log, written at 9:22 post-meridian.

Snuggle-Nook: The Third Legacy

The challenge was set. In the bustling port of NoirSable (BlackSand) our two hero protagonists: Paco Jay Meadri the Black-Elven Death-Mage (effectively a level five Drow-Elf Exterminator) and Hagrin the Dwarven Acrobat (also level five, played by Berenger/Morris) set off to work their passage on the ship the Sweet Mary Jane VI under the watchful eye of captain Salek. He had a wager with captain Barbarussa, of the Banshee. The bet was to see who could plunder the most treasure in-betwixt here and the eastern orient: Nippon. In the fifty days it would take, the captain who would had accumulated the most loot won the 5,000 sceattae (G.p) wager, would take the prize.

After casting off, the wind was fair, the weather agreeable, and the two ships slunk out of the bay of NoirSable, the Santa Maria IV tacking off in the direction of Cytherea, a desolate place, with sand-dunes and a Persian spice about the place. On the second day of the voyage, captain Salek took ill, and passed away, bought the farm, was sent to Davey Jones’ locker, arr! Scurvy took the old sea-dog. Hagrin was appointed to be the new captain, and the ship set sail, mourning the loss of its already skeleton crew (only eleven).

Among the crew was Orioll the Ranger, from Kalaf; who advised they not attack the village by an oasis, once the crows nest had spotted land. They left only two crewmen and skirted around the town, once dropping anchor and rowing ashore, taking plenty of food and water into the desert.

They waited for days, with no returns. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Alas, just before they were about to consider heading back to the ship, a caravan appeared. A dozen lizardmen, three of them riding reptilian Cold-Ones, guarded a bunch of booty they had found. Secreted from behind the dunes on either side, Orioll suggested he strike out-front, blocking any escape from that side. They attacked…

Orioll failed his move-silently and his hide-in-shadows checks, the lizardmen knew something was up, and it nearly spoilt the surprise until wham! Orioll let a lone fire-arrow fly from his longbow, it struck the lizardman leader in the head, which exploded in a burst of flames when he failed his threshold of pain check. (We have these new dice which have hit-location on, neat eh?) Paco-Jay began casting, then cancelled the spell, causing an automatic mishap! One of his relatives flipped-out (temporarily) and also his nose turned black, permanently! (He was a Black-elf anyway, so it made little change, just from matt to gloss) Anyhow, seeing their chief’s head explode gave the lizardmen pause for though. One failed morale check later, and they froze. Hagrin parleyed, and eventually took all of the booty off of them (several hundred coins and nine unidentified cut gem-stones) The lizardmen were bound, then taken to the village.

After debating the fate of the reptilian raiders, it was (eventually) decided that they be given a local trial, rather than sending them to the captial of Regino-Finniga. The townsfolk gave the scaly raiders a kangaroo court, and had them all strung up, one by one. String ’em up. Arr!

The crew celebrated a victory, and managed to recruit a half-a-dozen locals to add to the skeletal staff they had already. Returning to the Santa Maria IV (the Sweet Mary Jane the Fourth) the Underground Homegrown Crew (U.H.C.) weighed anchor and set off to their next destination: Kalaf-Port.

The six-day journey was uneventful, save for a spot of rain. The U.H.C. arrived in the bustling, grotty seaport, and headed straight for the prize-fighting tent. Hagrind decided to step up to the plate, entering a deadly combat with a lumbering Akh-Ogre. The ‘boxing’ gloves were covered in lethal spikes. The bet of 500 sceattae (G.p) could be doubled up on winning a successful bout.

The announcer shouted, “In the red corner, challenging the unde_feated_ *champ*ion, the dread-pirate capt’n HhhaaaaaAAAAAGWIN! In the blue corner, the Ogre in a toga, Kalafs own unbeatable reigning champion, Rocha Dervishaan! Seconds out!” ding ding! “Rooouuuuund ONE!”

Both Hagwin and Rocha sized up to each other, the ogre towering over the dwarf. Circling one another, the big-guy landed a right-cross on Hagwin, a spiked fist mauling his face. Undeterred, the dwarf moved in against his opponent, jumping up and planting a rabbit-punch on the big-guys chest. It barley scratched the Akh-ogre who returned the favour with a wild hay-maker that missed its mark. Once more the big-guy landed a solid blow on Hagwin, knocking the air out of his chest. Again, our Acrobat protagonist was unfettered, and decided upon a different course of attack. Hagwin threw a feint then ran and jumped up the ring-side corner pole, vaulted off it then came down hard on Rocha, landing a downwards spiked fist across Rochas jaw, sending him spinning to the sand., but still on one knee.

Rocha seemed unscathed and landed an uppercut on the Acrobat, who flipped backwards, and tumbled toward the ogre aggressively. Bam! He knocked the big-guy for six. Rocha shook it off, and laid in to the little feller. The whole time this was happening, Paco-Jay Meadri in the crowd awaited the signal. It was then that the acknowledgement was received and the Death-mage discreetly cast Disable Hand on Rocha, who’s right hand was messed up, bad.
Hagwin pressed the advantage, laying in to the ogre, flipping about, using a combination of leaping and spinning to plant bombs on Rocha, who was down to half his health by this time.

Rocha retaliated, beating the little guy down to a fraction of hit-points. Paco-Jay started casting, this time he cast amuch longer spell, blatantly, in full-view of the crowd (who didn’t care, they were all crims) the Black-Elf Death-mage cast Animate Dead on the ogres dead right-hand. Like ‘Ash’ out of Evil Dead II the possessed hand struck the big-guy for a whopping fifteen points of damage. Getting a taste of his own medicine, the ogre waded in, throwing a wild hay-maker that only clipped the little dwarf, scratching him a little graze. ’Ash’s right-hand again lumped the big-guy for another shed-load of damage, taking Rocha down to only three hit-points!

Orioll advised a merciful ending by recommending Paco-Jay try and control the Animated hand. Factoring-in the Death-mages’ Intellect, Wisdom, Charisma and Level, Mr. Meadri managed to make the meagre 32% chance of controlling the possessed palm. The fist punched only the dirt, and it seemed as though the ogre hit the ground in a rage, mad for losing the fight by a whisker. All onlookers new something dodgy had gone on, but nobody cared. The announcer called out the result, and the U.H.C. were five-hundred sceattae up.

The crew revelled in victory a while, and Hagwin asked Orioll if they knew somewhere he could be healed; seeing as the Ranger was local and all. Orioll said he would take them to La Fortesa, the capital of Kalaf. It wasn’t too far, into the mountains, and they reached the keep in no time. After a brief introduction to Pep Prim “Slim” the court-wizard, and the regent of the nation: Guilfré El Sedere, they proceeded to the temple, to visit Thomas of Notley. The Patriarch of Kalaf, and chief holy-man of Luvia. Good Thomas healed him up, and offered to accompany the U.H.C. on their quest, in place of Orioll. The U.H.C. accepted graciously, honoured.

Between the wharfs and the town, lay a long sandy stretch to which the U.H.C. strolled down to check out the scene. To see wagwan (what’s going on). Alas, the Dark-One races were taking place, and Paco-Jay entered his very own Dark-One, the captured beast from the caravan raiders.

In the heat of betting, Hagwin realised their was no insurance policy in place, as he tried to get some assurance for his bet. He petitioned the regent (the paladin, Guifré El Sedere) who approved his notion for setting up an insurance at the races. Paco-Jay’s Dark-One Sabir managed to race ahead of the pack. I roleplayed this quite well, imitating a racing commentator “…and it’s Red-Ballon coming up on third, closely followed by…” my voice rose in a constant crescendo, an outpor of commentry until “…and it’s Awkspeed now, over-taking, and is it? Is it? Yes! It’s Awkspeed who came in first, tearing the hapless goblin captive to pieces.” They lost their bet (all except Maggy McFinnigan, who had just arrived, and bet on all three with the highest odds.) Of course, Hagwin made a small sum through his insurance policy. He then stayed here, in Kalaf, and told the crew of the Santa Maria IV that he would catch them up in a small schooner, and to send word of which way they had gone.

The U.H.C. now met an old creditor, who had to settle a bad-debt with one of Hagwins illegitimate half-siblings. They bet the boat, lost the dice roll, and sabres were drawn. Hagwin tumbled off the side of the room and plunged his rapier right in to Jaimil the debtors side. At the same time, Maggy cast Phantasmal Fireball at one of the goons, who failed his disbelieve saving throw, and was took him down on a failed Threshold of Pain check. Then, Thomas of Notley used his Stirring Oration (Rousing Speech skill) and passed his check easily. “Calm yourselves brothers of Kalaf, no more blood shall be spilt over meagre debts which could be so easily written off, lest ye all perish at one another’s hand!” The speech did the trick. Everyone downed arms, and the Santa Maria IV was safely in the U.H.C.‘s hands once again. The other clientèle went back to their hookahs and dice-games, just another altercation in this city of crims’ and scum. N’owt outta the ordinary in this part of the world, the un-tamed wild-lands, the sandy streets filled with scum: Port Kalaf. A nation long since neglected, for nearly a year now. Maggy McFinnigan decided to stay here a while, and let Paco-Jay and Thomas of Notley go it alone from here in on.

Alas, returning to the Sweet Mary IV they (the U.H.C.) heard from the harbour-master that there is a very wealthy temple occupied by the priests of the dead, up-river which flows through Azure. They happened upon the mysterious temple, which was nestled in a cosy dell, surrounded by undergrowth. The megalithic stones towered, arching into the air, flanked by dressed stone, long since covered with creepers and vines. The gothic, pointed architecture of this unholy place gave the area a shuddering atmosphere. To boot, lay the bones of deceased visitors which adorned the crypt-like eeriness of this place of death. The crew refused to go ashore, in fear. Thomas was eventually persuaded to follow Paco-Jay, who two made up the landing party.

Entirely devoid of any signs of life, the duo made their way down the stairs, into the bowels of these elements. Adventurers, ever alert, on guard. It wasn’t to be, a giant leech surprised them! (Only having a 1% chance of being detected, see H.o.B.) Alas, Thomas of Notley was struck unawares! He lost half his hit-points in one hit, and had to pass his save vs. death to avoid dying through massive damage (he lost over 50 hit-points in one go!) and didn’t manage to contract the deadly disease the giant leech inflicts when it attacks.

Paco-Jay saw he was outmatched and wisely decided to cast Wraithform putting the Death-mage well out of harms’ way, his insubstantial form being transported to the ethereal plane of existence. Then. Thomas cast Cause Nasty Wounds taking an attack of opportunity (heroic spell casting) which the giant-leech missed, and wham! he took the big blood-sucker down a peg or forty! Nice work. Paco-Jay gazed on, unable to intervene, his arrow flying straight through the beast. Alas, the giant-leech attacked again, and once more Thomas didn’t contract the disease. The Zealot of Luvia then cast another Cause Nasty Wounds this time getting three penetration rolls! (Open ended damage) the leech didn’t care, and this time its attack of opportunity hit, but Thomas kept his concentration. Not bad at all. Though, he did however contract the fatal blood disease. Paco-Jay told him to halt. Thomas disobeyed orders, knowing he only had so long to live, returned to the ship, and prepared and cast Cure Disease (after dispatching the leech of course with a final spell).

“Why did you disobey a direct order Thomas?!” ranted Paco-Jay. “Because I knew if I didn’t get medical treatment soon, I was going to die. It was time-critical. I had no time to explain, and you wouldn’t understand priestly magick, wizard. Also, I accompany you to spread the word of justice, of Luvia, not because you are my captain; you are the captain of this crew, and no-one else.” The level eight priest originally was going to stay on-board the ship, but Paco-Jay managed to persuade him to come ashore again, after he had almost-fully healed himself.

They continued down the corridor, entering a mausoleum. Inside was an undead guardian, who asked in a wraithly voice, “Which way is the prevailing wind blowing on Enrakai?” “South” answered Paco-Jay. Uh-er! Wrong! “Go away, mere mortal” said the undead guardian after cursing the Death-mage. Who bleated like a noob asking “How was I supposed to know that?!” A voice opened up in the clouds, “If you had paid attention to the flavour text at the start, you would have had the correct answer.” Paco-Jay accepted that, and they moved on.

The duo entered a heavily buttressed hall, where stood a disgusting statue of some foul deity, and two black-robed acolytes who drew their dirks saying, “We shall hasten your journey to perpetual night.” Thomas had the initiative and downed an acolyte in a single blow with his Mace+1 then Paco-Jay cracked t’other over his head with his stout quaterstaff, knocking the chaotic priest to his knees. He showed him mercy after a failed morale check and attack of opportunity which put the dark-acolyte on a few precious hit-points.

“Why did you attack us?” “We were just doing our job.” “Your job?! Who do you work for?” “The ministry of correction.” “and what exactly do you do at this ‘ministry of correction’ of which you speak?” “We change people, correct them.” “How exactly?” “We change them from being alive people … to being dead people.” Paco-Jay raised his eyebrows uttering “I should have known.” then Paco-Jay said, “Why should we spare you?” “I would join you, I was sick of this place anyway.” At that point Thomas said to Paco-Jay, “Cover your eyes.” “Why?” “Just cover them.” Paco kept one eye open, Thomas noticed. “Here take this Paco-Jay, you will close your eyes, or regret it, for you are a non-believer.” handing him a blind-fold. Thomas of Notley then asked the captive acolyte sternly, “Are you willing to mend your ways, and turn to the light? To believe in Luvia, as I do?” “Yes.” replied the acolyte. “You had better…” and with that, Thomas slammed his light-banner down. A flash of light, a thunderous sound boomed throughout the chamber, rattling the very walls, with the sound echoing loudly throughout the corridors of the crypt.

Paco-Jay took off the blindfold. To Thomas’ amazement, neither of them were blinded. The acolyte reall did have faith! The acolyte, who’s name was Reggie, said in his south-east accent (thieves’ cant’ of the Anglyn capital.) “Told you squire! I been meanin’ to get outta the death game for a while now, being here is no fun. I’ll be your apprentice, willingly, faithfully. I wanted to turn o’er a new leaf for ages now, here’s me chance guv’nor.” So Reggie took off his black robes, replacing them with a set of white ones he’d been saving for an occasion just such as this. Though Chaotic-Good, he now followed a better religion: Lawful-Good Luvia.

Reggie spoke, “Beware o’ tha’ statue, I ‘eard the uvvers talkin’ ‘bout it, it’s dangerous it is. Mark my words.” Paco-Jay stepped boldly up to the statue, trying to remove the ruby tongue which immediately tried to paralyse him and retracted into a whirlwind of spinning blades inside it. Paco-Jay made his saving throw easily. He was against the idea of taking the statue intially, but was persuaded to do so as its value would count towards the quest amount. The two priests of Luvia carried it out, after burning the body of the dead acolyte.

Once back on-ship, they sailed up-river to Azure. After scouting out the best place to sell the statue, Paco-Jay decided on flogging it at the temple dedicated to the demi-god Arethusa. Though they only sold it for two-thirds of the price that the bazaar would have paid, it was out of the way of converting people. (I found this odd, as Paco-Jay is a Death-mage, surely he would want people worshipping that sort of religion.) Alas, Paco-Jay was no fool. He immediately set about sending out an intelligence network of scouts, to learn the whereabouts of the statue, within the temple of Arethusa. Alas, at nightfall, they set about recovering the precious, deadly work of art.

Thomas of Notley cast Darkness and Silence 15’ Radius and they broke in via the back, in the dead of night. After scouting out the church, they managed to source the whereabouts of the stolen statue. Reggie and Thomas began to load it back up the stair from down below in the catacombs where it was hidden. A voice came from the top of the stairs. The three (Reggie, Thom’ and Paco) all hid as best they could, until an audible thunk could be heard. Fortunately the crew had followed them, and the teams’ navigator had coshed the priest on the back of the head, knocking him out cold. The Arethusa worshipper fell down the stairs. The crew made it away clean, and cast off, until the next time.

Welcome to Snuggle Nook!
The Tadisaga

Here’s the place to catch-up with what’s been happening with our gaming group. We have a couple of GM’s and run an underground (that is – not part of the H.M.A. “pay to play” scam) home-grown (named so because we have many house-rules and the H.M.A. doesn’t like that!) crew. We run Hack-Master and W.F.R.P.

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


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, 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…

Robail's W.F.R.P. Adventure
PacioJay Meadri's Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay Campaign (2nd edition)

Robert Bailey’s WarHammer Fantasy RolePlay Campaign (W.F.R.P. 2nd edition)

In Flagranté Delecto

The story so far: Bloody Sunday Campaign Days 1,2,3 and 4.
Maxen (Gorion Galadrid – an Elven scout, who chose his career out of exile), Conan/G.I.Joe/Jane (Grief Farwhisper – Dwarven messenger, ex blood-bowl failure), and Garag/Zemiah/Tehlu (Edgar Fleetfoot – Halfling layabout, er, vagabond rather), set out on an adventure full of surprise and discovery. They begin by meeting in Slugspond, a small, backward village on the north-eastern border of Bretonnia, a weeks ride west of the Grey Mountains. Slugspond’s one and only Inn in the village – The White Spawn Inn – is 5 days north-by-northwest of Parravon. After discussing it, the players intend for Nuln, their only feasible route is through the Mountains.
Once in Nuln they hope to uncover the mystery of a set of 6 bear kegs delivered to the White Spawn some weeks ago, from an unknown benefactor. The landlord of The White Spawn, Mal E Alebeard, suspects the kegs were a gift from his estranged brother – Mash E Alebeard, also a brewer, but he needs his brothers whereabouts and “lifestyle” confirmed before he gives any of the mysterious brew to his customers, in case the kegs are poisoned, or worse… (Though the brothers separated on good terms, Mal worries that his brother may have fallen to the depredations of evil – as that often happens to anyone who goes travelling).
The kegs themselves have the hammer and anvil symbol etched on their sides, (the symbol is used in Nuln as a mark of inner-city commerce, also found on the Nuln “hammer” – the colloquial name for the local gold coin), but there are no other indications of origin.
The players set off, and after arguing heatedly about the quickest, safest route – an argument of little sensitivity but plenty of real roleplay – they find a path that leads up and east into the mountains. Here they come across a monastery that rears out of the landscape, looking thoroughly out of place, but I’m running it off the bat, so what the heck.
The monastery bars their passage, and is built in Nulner style – two broad metal doors (uncharacteristically for a Morrian monastery: shut) with a tall cylindrical chimney billowing a disturbing red smoke into the stark air, and large birds circle high above. The players are suddenly alerted by a small handful of lazy, roaming ghouls that leer out from behind pillars of weather-worn stone. Quickly they lay waste to the ghouls, but not before Farwhisper has most of his leg mangled and badly poisoned – leading to much discomfort and a return to Parravon for medical curatives. The place where the players were staying in Parravon suffers a poorly planned robbery around this time, and the players are thrown out of town under heavy suspicion of involvement.
Returning to the Morrian monastery several crossed words later, the adventurers meet and talk with a Priest at the entrance. He bids them “welcome, and journey lightly through these caverns.”
The players learn from him that a couple of his initiates working in the lower cloisters have gone missing, and the players incorrectly deduce that they were the ghouls they met before, though at least they’re barking up the right tree.
After Gorion dices athletically with a falling lift and thereby sunders a fate point from his breeches, the players dust themselves off and move further below, where the caves become a complex system of lava-flows, under-ground geysers and Morrian prayers. It is here they first encounter Saemus/Maggie (Shifty McStabalot) whilst battering a modest cadre of Demon Imps. McStabalot is a dwarven miner with a deep hatred of greenskins and a rich knowledge of the ores to be found hereabouts. He fosters an interest in developing complex magnetic-ore based weaponry to better unleash bloody rage at range, preferring to choose his targets based primarily on their green hue.
What follows is an outline of the locations, monsters and other people the PCs have since encountered, and how those might be played out by an enquiring GM, map included. Chronology is sidelined from this point, with the most memorable actions and consequences in parenthesis.

The Morrian Monastery of Leig-uaft
Built into the mountain, the Monastery is connected to a network of larva-heated tunnels. Something is amiss, naturally…
The crematorium represents the final purging of the dead body, but the heat used here is magical in nature – so that mourners then bury the bones in the usual way, after the souls are cleansed. The reason this magical heat is used is that the Morrian monastery was cursed by a long-dead Necromancer, causing haunting and other mishaps, but more importantly, causing those who are brought to the temple to occasionally reanimate post death. (It is here the players first meet Jalid, and learn from him the nature of the fires used to cleanse the dead).
The necromancer actually cursed the river water that runs under the caves, so that for those drinking it, it causes a slow dulling of the mind and penchant for eating brains. The first swig is very sweet and players must succeed a very hard -30% WP test to resist drinking it on sight, modified by what they learn…

Those that remain are:
Chaplain Voldem Orhsten, the guardian priest, has explained to the players that there is a river that runs beneath the caves that is tainted with heavily alcoholic properties, causing his initiate employees to commit clumsy acts like letting ghouls out from their cells. In fact the ghouls are the missing staff. The players have discovered the water is potentially dangerous, giving them a total of -25% to the WP test.
Ws Bs S T Ag Int Wp Fel
27 39 27 33 32 32 34 28
1 13 2 3 4 0 1 0

Skills: Ackno – History, Ackno – Theology, Charm, Heal, Perception, Read/Write, Spk – Classical+Reik. Comkno – Empire, Gossip.
Talents: Excellent vision, Strong minded, Lightening reflexes, Public Speaking, Warrior Born.
Trappings: The usual plus robes of Morr. Leather Jerkin. Keys to exit and double doors at C.
Armour: body 1.
Chaplain Voldem is actually running a cover operation for Harbrand the Necromancer. Voldem will try to persuade the PCs that this is a noble house of Morr:
“We all do the simple work of our patron here at [Leig-uaft]; sending the grateful dead on their way to his realm in peace.”
If the players have spoken with Jalid (below), they will want to question Voldem, probably asking things like “why is Jalid scared, what did he hear?”
“I suspect Jalid’s ears were deceiving him. He is long overdue for a sabbatical.”
Players passing a tricky -10% perception test will notice something a touch insincere in his tone. He will address this player with:
“You do not believe me sir, I can see. Well then let me offer you this key as a sign of my faith. It will allow you to enter the deeper recesses of our under-chapel beyond the cloisters, where you will see we have nothing to hide.”
If threatened at knifepoint, Voldem will reveal that:
“May Morr forgive me! Jalid was right to be concerned. This is no ordinary monastery. It was; long ago it used to be a place for purging unclean souls with the holy element of fire, but long ago an old colleague turned from a faithful servant of our order into a Necromancer – a wielder and abuser of Dhar (Dark magic) – and the forbidden search for power of death over the living. He has cursed the water that runs through the base of the cavern, and now those who drink it become …infected." After a pause during which players may have questions he finishes fairly calmly:
“We normally admit only one initiate at a time, and anyway, all who arrive are ‘encouraged’ to drink the water. It quickly turns them into a servant of the Dark powers, flesh-eating ghouls, or worse. My master wishes to prolong his own life…with their poor unfortunate souls. He is a most dangerous enemy. If you spare me I can help you to catch him.”
If the players want to know why, he will say:
“I know these tunnels, and there are traps that only Harbrand and I know how to disarm.”
Learning all this makes the WP test to avoid drinking the water routine (0%). If pressed further, Chaplain Voldem will offer a pouch containing 30 silver pieces in exchange for his life. If they later dispatch the Necromancer he will give them a small bronze badge of Morr in gratitude, worth 12gc (well hidden in the secret passage).
(The players talk to the chaplain and obtain the key without learning of the traps that lie after its door, having been gentle with Voldem, so they learn nothing of the skeletons at this point).

Having only been on site for a few weeks, Friars Olivier Mondue and Antoine Furchar know nothing of Leig-uaft’s true purpose, and have been disgraced for letting out the 3 ghouls from the crematorium, and now wander the cave system disconsolately, having been rejected by the players. They will return at point A on the map…hungry for the living. The next encounter with them is as one full-blown ghoul, while the other has enough sense to say “bad water” if questioned before being dispatched. (Adding 5% to WP test). He will cower, retreat and sit moaning, giving the players an opportunity to talk to him. If the players get too close to him – within 2 feet – and fail an opposed Fel test while he’s cornered, then he will attack on a failed WP test of 35% or less. For Ghoul stats see page 94 of the bestiary, adding 10% to their Ws and Int. They have 81 brass pennies between them.
(The players quickly realise the two lingering priests are unwell – a “sympathy trap”, and put them efficiently to the merciful sword.)

Rector Jalid Fulist (encountered again at point B) carries powerful heatproof Morr-blessed gauntlets (that have a basic Enc value of 200 that drops to -50 whenever carrying dead or undead creatures, or lifting caskets and coffins. Valued at 45gc, the gloves are in good condition, and can be re-appraised and bought for 70gc by either a wealthy priest of Morr or an Amber wizard. In combat they have the slow and pummelling qualities, and do SB-1, or SB+0 v undead, but not magical). Jalid has a healthy respect for the dead, and a constitution blessed by Morr, so has no trouble drinking the water, unlike his unfortunate colleagues. If asked about the water by the PCs, he can improve their WP test by a further 10% by telling the players that he knows of several priests who have died as a result of drinking it, though he does not know why. (Jalid has now joined the party as a stout hearted NPC, ever on hand to help with religious matters, theological enquiries and the staunching of blood).
Ws Bs S T Ag Int Wp Fel
38 39 29 33 40 42 34 36
1 13 2 3 4 0 0 0

Skills: Ackno – History, Ackno – Theology, Charm, Heal, Perception, Read/Write, Spk – Classical+Reik. Comkno – Empire, Gossip.
Talents: Excellent vision, Strong minded, Lightening reflexes, Public Speaking, Warrior Born, Petty magic – blessing of protection, + blessing of healing.
Trappings: The usual plus robes of Morr, Gauntlets have crow symbol, 2 holly sprigs.
Armour: 1 to all except head.

Jalid is happy to reveal that he has not been happy in his purging work since he has come to regard there being “something altogether sinister” about the collection of bones in the long tunnel. An easy (+20%) Fel test elicits the following:
“My work here is as a cleanser of the bodies that get left in the Crematorium. They come in caskets, from I know not where, but I prefer not to ask. Morr’s business is his own and best left that way.”
If the PCs succeeded the Fel test by more than 15% or offer convincing reasons for wishing to learn more, then he goes on:
“Between you and me, there was one occasion when I was coming up from the Kitchen, when I heard a most peculiar sound; it might have been the noise of bones and laughter rattling together, though such a notion unsettles me so much I daren’t give it much credence. I would rather not talk more about it, just please don’t tell Chaplain Voldem I told you. He doesn’t like…gossip.”
It is to be expected that the PCs will now want to question the Chaplain at this point. (See point 1, above). He can be found in the deserted bunk room, closing the secret door as they enter, which any PC will spot with an easy perception test. Opening the secret door requires his co-operation, as it is sealed with a minor incantation, which cannot be repeated by a PC. If they attempt to do so, they must succeed a -10%WP test or conjure a poltergeist, which will annoy the players until they leave the complex, spoiling any chances at gaining surprise.

Harbrand Fiegler, the Necromancer, used to work with the other priests, but took an unhealthy interest in their demise, and so was exiled. He returned along an old and secret tunnel, and has made his lair there, sleeping in the mortuary. He has 9 skeletons that act as his personal guard, 4 at point C and 5 at point D including the chief. Skeletons stats are on pages 108 of bestiary.
Harbrand owns a ring that gives the wearer a plus 5% WP whenever commanding undead, but cannot be used without Dark Lore – Necromancy and Spk Arcane Lang – Necromancy, worth 28gc on the black market, or 19gc to a priest of Morr or 10gc otherwise. If worn by a priest of Shallya they have their T and Wp and Fel reduced by half until removing it, gaining no other benefit. (The players failed to acquire this ring, as Harbrand has long since boiled it along with himself in molten larva).
Harbrand is encountered at point E on the map, and will aid his remaining 5 Skeletons in defeating the players. If they make a run for it, Harbrand and his bones will pursue them as far as the lift. Once Harbrand is defeated, all his denizens simply drop lifeless to the floor, and the poltergeist, if extant, vanishes.
Harbrand’s stats:

Ws Bs S T Ag Int Wp Fel
48 44 42 39 40 47 36 26
2 18 4 3 4 0 4 0

Skills: Ackno – History, Ackno – Theology, Ackno – Necromancy, Charm, Heal, Perception, Read/Write, Spk – Classical+Reik. Comkno – Empire, Gossip, Spk Arcane Language – Magick + Daemonic, swim.
Talents: Aethyric Attunement, Armoured Casting, Dark Lore – Necromancy, Seasoned Traveller, Excellent vision, Strong minded, Lightening reflexes, Public Speaking, Strike mighty blow, Dark Magic – hand of dust + Invigorating vitae + re-animate (pp162 core), Lesser Magic – Silence (pp 149 core).
Trappings: The usual, magic ring, Sleeved Mail Shirt, leather leggings, leather skullcap. Key to Mortuary, key to exit. Armour: 2 body, 2 arms, 1 Legs. 1 head.

(The PCs do of course encounter the skeletons, (Many shots from Garag’s sling double the clickity-clacking skeletons over in a rambunctious cacophony of breaking bones) and Harbrand the Necromancer, who after sending the last of his bony cronies in and letting off a “hand of death” spell on the humble Jalid, then dashes immediately for the heat sink (see below) then escapes the PCs clutches, and whisks the gauntlets from under Jalid’s nose on his way, much to McStabalot’s consternation.)

Heat Sink
“As you go down the first set of curving stairs, the heat becomes almost intolerable. Sweat begins to pour freely from you, loosening your grip on your weapon, and you shield your faces with your free arm. The landing to which you descend opens into a boiler room; the wall opposite you is convex, made from large metal panels that do little to protect you from the heat of the bubbling lava you can hear churning on the other side.”
While in the boiler room, all players suffer –15%Ag and can only use weapons that require one hand. All attempts to attack are at –20%Wp and –25%Bs. Players who wish to investigate the panels more closely must take a WP test for each 10feet nearer to it they get, getting harder by degrees of 5%, or turn back and leave.
PCs who get to within arms reach can make out symbols on the panels, but will not recognise them without Trade (engineering). They are instructions for periodic maintenance. Players passing a hard perception test (-20%) notice a circle of 10 large holes in a configuration that looks set to receive gauntleted fingers. For details of how to open the panels, the players must consult Jalid, who tells also tells them exactly what they’re for:
“The panels are part of an ancient network of strong pipes that channel the heat of the mountain into various underground communities, some much like Leig-uaft. Naturally the energy is used to cook and heat; we also use it as part of the purging of the dead as you’ve seen. I’ve heard Amber wizards sometimes use the heat for magical purposes. Every ten years for the last three centuries, Morr allows the lava that pours down the channel from Mount Garadek to slow and cool enough for our builders to come and check the integrity of the panels. I wouldn’t be tempted to open them while the lava is flowing – it would flood the whole temple in a single turn of the sand.”
Note that Harbrand cannot wear Jalid’s gauntlets, as they are Morr-blessed. If the PCs look like they’re going to defeat Harbrand, he’ll attempt to kill Jalid and then re-animate him (or any player wearing the gauntlets, to make them do the job for him. It takes that character no more than 2 rounds (20seconds) to travel from the stairs to the panels. He then presses a series of locks (1 round), after which he and the players will want to leave! After one more round the metal panels begin descending from the top, and the lava begins pouring out immediately. Anyone caught by the splashing lava (within 10 feet) must lose d5+4 wounds that ignores armour but not toughness. It travels at a move rate of 12 feet per round, gradually melting the whole complex. Lava does d5+4 damage that ignores armour and toughness for every round the players are caught in it. If the players can get to the exit they will be ok.
(All make it through except Farwhisper – unfortunately now an NPC – who chased after Harbrand the Necromancer, and was immediately swallowed by roiling larva – so heroically sacrificing himself for the greater good of the party by slowing the larva a little, all the while frothing at the mouth about how unfair his gammy leg was being for “holding me up”)…

“Thick animal hide hangs in strips in the doorway, which you swing easily aside. Next to the long worktop are open cupboards stocked with a modest amount of food, most of it moving towards stale. A tap is leaking steaming hot water into a round metal basin to your left, and the shelves pinned to the wall on your right are for crockery and cutlery.” (The players demonstrated an understandable relief in discovering something so simple as a kitchen).
Players who investigate the tap water or basin must now take a WP test to resist sampling the sweet smelling water. Any player who drinks the water must find a powerful priest of Shallya within 2 days or become a ghoul and be forever lost to the dark powers. (Or spend a fate point). (Mcstabalot was the closest call, but was – hidden dice – fine, as the GM didn’t fancy risking losing a player at this stage).

“After unlocking the door, it sticks a little, but then swings easily open. The foul stench of rotting flesh mixed with fresh carnage fills your nostrils.” On entering the Mortuary each player must pass a difficult (-20%) WP test or gain d10-6 insanity points, to a minimum of 1.
“Once inside you see a sight that would churn the stomach of the hardiest priest of Morr. The walls are thick with the lacquer of recently sprayed blood. Shelves, cupboards, writing desk; every surface is the same – sticky and dark red. Dismembered bodies lay in a chalk circle around a large bed in the centre of the room, the four upright wax-covered supports of which are decorated in carvings of skulls, scythes and hourglasses.”
(Jalid promptly hurls, followed in short order by Fleetfoot all over his fleetboots. Lots of Insanity handed out. Laverly!)
Players who search the desk find a curved dagger (Now owned by Shifty) with a skull pommel for opening letters. Any character whose patron is Shallya should shun the artefact for role-play xp, though it is actually harmless. Sitting on the desk is a short letter that can be deciphered by anyone with read/write, and Academic Knowledge Necromancy who passes an average Int test. It reads as follows:

Use your imagination…smaller pieces…use your imagination…

Again, any player reading this who passes a routine (+10%) Int will understand the implication behind “smaller pieces” as being of flesh, and must take a challenging (-10%)WP test or gain one insanity point as a result….text of a CLASSIFIED nature previously occupied this space…

The Ossuary
“The bones that fill the end of this corridor are of all sizes and shapes, mainly humanoid in origin, and collected over many, many years. None look recent.” Players who search the bones will find 5 silver schillings and 24 brass pennies. If they pass an average perception test by more than 20% success then they will also find a bottle (worth 3s, enc 2) containing two doses of sub-standard healing potion that when taken knocks the character out for 1d10 hours, while curing d10 minus 5 wounds, to a minimum of 2. If they find the bottle they will also disturb a family of 6 snakes (core rules page124). (The team delight in McStabalot’s decision to set the whole lot on fire, including the snakes, which he succeeds in doing by making sparks with his axe across the floor…into some dry straw…nice).
The double doors (at C)
“Upon unlocking the doors, you find yourself confronted with five leering skeletons, who attack you with their swords, red eye sockets glowing madly.” Chuckle.
Skeletons are on page 231 of core rules. (Game preceded slowly at this point, my first real combat challenge, but I kept it in check by asking Maxen for lots of help with stat-hunting, and allowed my novice skills as an improviser to be tested to – swearing lightly – point.
As soon as the players look set to defeat the Skeletons, Harbrand will make an appearance coming from the direction of the old chapel (F). His first action (which will be automatically successful) will be to re-animate the nearest Skeleton. The GM should roll for casting behind his hand. Re-animate takes a half round per corpse. (Casting number is 8; Harbrand has a Magic characteristic of 4 – see page 162).
Players should quickly realise that if he can be killed, then the skeletons will stay dead.
If it looks as though the party is having it too easy, then the GM should bring in a further 5 skeletons from F, and one of these uses a bow. (Useless in practice – not a clever monster). The chief has 10 more WS, 5 more wounds and 10 more Ag than usual. Page 231 has skeleton stats.

The Pressure plate (at D)
The first Player to turn the corner and walk down the corridor towards the door at E without caution or without the help of Voldem will step on a pressure plate that releases 10 darts. (Maxen has here brought in his new character, another stout hearted beardy, and shifted to using Gorion as an NPC. His new Dwarf – Varagon Voltaire, a thick-muscled student of magics and religion, elects to carry the ailing Elf across the plate…and succeeds heroically before later leaving pointy ears to die…) They are allowed a hard (-20) Ag test to avoid being hit. Each ½ degree of failure means being hit by 1 dart rounding down, so for example a player with Ag 34 who rolls 45 has failed by 31%, or 6 darts.
Each dart does d2 damage cumulatively, which ignores armour but not toughness. Any Player wounded by more than 5 darts must take a challenging (–10) toughness test or suffer an additional d5 wounds from light poison. The worst outcome would be to lose 20 wounds (minus toughness) then another 5, though this is unlikely, and the PC can use a fortune point to retake either the Ag test at challenging (-10) difficulty, or the toughness test at average (0) difficulty, and then re-roll for poison.
(End of sessions recap:
Handing out experience was a touchy subject. I should have been more relaxed really. Tiredness set in a couple of times on my part. They were long sessions altogether, and both fairly intensive.
Arguments over combat mechanics were uncomfortable, but again, with more confidence this will pass. TPK – total party kill – was dramatically averted; the tunnel flooded with hot lava but the players and their companion the Morrian Priest escaped alive. Grief Farwhisper was unfortunate in being swallowed by the roiling Lava. All the players – Grief, Edgar, Maxen and Shifty – got heavily involved, and enjoyed themselves for at least two hours…which is good!
Grief’s determined arguments about the right way to do things occasionally proffered useful tactics for the party as a whole, but wasn’t very Dwarven, Edgar’s slingshots were amusingly powerful against the skeletons inside their ribcages and he found this energising, Maxen prayed effectively to the gods for blessing and lifted a fallen comrade, and Shifty allowed his hunger for shiny objects to take hold, chasing after the priest who wore snazzy gauntlets, only to turn around and run back the other way when the larva came after him!

All the players were helpful to me in various ways, from looking up stats and numbers, which kept the battle with the skeletons from grinding to a halt, being philosophical and amusing, and demonstrating different manners of enjoyment in the game for its own sake, which inspired us all to learn to do the same.
The adventure was far more demanding than I expected, but I managed to run it pretty well, all the same. Nobody got especially bored, nobody got particularly cross, and nobody got distracted for long.) Three is a good, optimum number of PCs, I’ve decided.

Bloody Sunday Campaign Day 2 – Our intrepid travellers have escaped the challenge of the first Lava dungeon of Leig–uaft (the Morr temple overrun by a necromancer and his curse), with a few nasty wounds, a few less rations, a few madcap mushrooms, and a few more coins, and a little more weaponry. They have also acquired the letter to Harbrand Fiegler from “X” (Classified) (carried by Shifty), clues to the contents of which can be found below…Jalid Fulist continues to help the party as an NPC, and will reveal what he knows about Harbrand if the players ever ask about the necromancer: (D6+6xp to the party).
“I had always thought of Harbrand as a loyal, even devout priest of the raven-god. When I saw him running from behind those skeletons, at first I didn’t recognise him, then I was sure he would help us, but…” He trails off, if the players ask for more, they will get it:
“It seems I was mistaken. Yet still I cannot believe it, I met a few of the folk in his care when I was working as an actuary at Morr’s temple in Paravon only a couple of months ago, and they always described him as very caring and kind. The ghouls we saw – their corruption was so rapid, and Harbrand’s transformation was so…utterly shocking. I cannot accept that the cursed water was his doing. If anything, I think he was another victim.”
This may be correct, it may not, but it is all the players will have to go on for now. With any luck they will believe Jalid, and surmise that something else even darker than petty necromancy is at work in the caves.
Further notes on the mysterious letter are as follows: any player who asks about it again should be told by Jalid, (if he is still alive): “Translating it for yourselves, you’re probably going to need to be well-read in dark magic, which is far from legal outside of the few universities where magical protections are in place. I would leave it behind if I were you.”

The Madcap Mushrooms induce a state of frenzy; see the frenzy talent in the core rules, for d10 rounds. They also make the player lose d3 wounds unless he passes a toughness test, and spend the next 24hours feeling queasy, reducing Fel by 15% due to his irritability.
As they travel up the shaft and into the next section of tunnel, their first obstacle will be a blocked tunnel. With the lava slowly creeping up behind them, their first challenge will be to get through.

Lastly, the unconscious Elf is a hindrance. He begins the adventure completely out of it, and all your initial efforts to bring him back to consciousness fail. He is very weak from the blood he lost from the sword that cut his chest, and although he is no longer bleeding he needs plenty of rest if he is to begin the long road to recovery.
Jalid offers “Our Elf friend needs uninterrupted rest, i.e. sleep.”
How the players choose to deal with him is an opportunity for some challenging roleplay. They will most likely not want to ditch him if it can be avoided. And should be awarded 5xp for every time they implement clever and sensible ways to keep him alive and unharmed.
After recovering 1 wound in the course of 24 hours of uninterrupted rest the Elf will be able to rejoin the party as a contributor. This is going to be hard for Max to stomach I suspect, but if he deals with it well without resorting to the rules he can be awarded d10+3xp at the end of each 24 hour period of adventure time.
(This is roughly the point when Max decides to leave his NPC Elf behind, who then perishes from his wounds).
A and B – The Blocked Tunnel
¬ The remains of the wooden door slams shut behind you and slows the boiling lava for barely a moment before it is swallowed in the rolling red heat. The tunnel winds ahead of you, sloping gently upwards. It snakes off into darkness, broken only by the angry glow of the lava that pursues you steadily upwards. As you continue to run on, your legs begin to tire and you fear the heat will never end.
At this point have one of the players stumble, on a piece of loose rock. Establish running order, then have whoever is second from the back fail an agility check, but make it look random. Players with any sense will help this fallen comrade, and gain 7xp+1d10 for doing so.
You run on, your aching legs keeping you safe. As the tunnel levels off you are relieved to see the larva slowing. You soon realise this is because there are thick gulleys cut into the rock on either side of the floor of the passage that siphon the lethal liquid away and down into the mountain beneath your feet. However, just up ahead an old rock fall fills the tunnel; many of the rocks are large, around 3 feet high in diameter. Larva continues to march inexorably toward you.
A routine perception test (10) reveals:
You spot what might be a small opening between the topmost boulder and the ceiling high above you,
Any player can climb the rocks with an average (0) St test; (challenging in the case of halflings) any players with the scale sheer surface skill can do so. Any player who tests to climb the rock fall unaided and fails by more than 30% must take d3
1 damage, and falling players are required to lose one point of effectiveness from whichever piece of armour they land on. Players who fail the test by more than 45% will hit the larva and should either spend a fortune point to re-roll or take d10-1 damage that ignores Toughness.
Players who make imaginative use of their rope, or who state explicitly that they will assist their comrade’s gain a further 10 to the St test, and gain a further 2d10xp.
As they near the top of the climb I’ll tell them: the gap at the top is no more than the breadth of a small child. When you reach the top you cannot see far, but far enough that you can make out that the tunnel widens, supported by rickety wooden struts.
Assume that the halfling will have no trouble clambering through and will not notice any loose boulders, whereas Dwarves and Humans will have to pass a successful Ag test to wriggle through, and notice the boulder is loose on top on a routine perception test. Players who fail the Ag test get stuck, and are considered helpless until they can pass a successful strength test, one each round. Pulling the fallen Elf through earns the players another d5xp for each directly involved, and requires a challenging (-10%)Strength test. With at least one character behind and one in front, pushing and pulling respectively, the test is average (0) using their combined strengths/2, once per round.
One boulder at the top can be shoved forward with a combined Strength test of 8 plus d10, negating any need for agility tests to get through. Tying rope to the boulder and pulling from the front adds 2 to the roll, however any players immediately in front of the boulder must either state (20) that they are getting out of the way of it or pass a successful hard (-20%) Ag test to avoid being hurt by it for d41 damage, which again damages any armour it hits by one point, being knocked over for d3 rounds by the falling rock.
(By now I’d introduced too many variables, and so Maxen and Edgar got bored with all the dice rolling – “Hey man, we just climb up the F*****G rocks, okay?” I was disappointed that they didn’t use more imagination, but let them off fairly lightly in favour of our shared wish to get on with the adventure.)
If the shifting boulder method is used, or any players get stuck at the top for more than 3 rounds, then this will alert a trio of rats (S 2, T2, W4), who will attack the nearest player in the confined space at the top of the rock fall for 3 rounds before scattering. (Helpless players are automatically surprised and hit), and attacks against the rats are at –25% in the confined space.
Any player who gets past the rock fall without taking any damage is blessed by the gods and receives d5xp. If the halfling volunteers to go first through the gap he will be awarded d5+5xp, regardless of weather he is wounded as a result.
Bruised and shaken you descend to the floor and peer into the dusty gloom.
Dwarves with trade skill (mining) who pass an easy Int test (+10) will recognise the type of construction of this tunnel as: typical for an area of a mine that was designed for travel through the mountain, rather than for searching for precious ores.
The tunnel broadens and the ceiling is lower on this side, perhaps 6 feet high or so. It curves to the right before opening out into a cross roads, which you know by feeling along the walls in the pitch black. The larva no longer poses a threat.

C + D – The New Excavation and Section of hard rock
Without being able to see, you feel your way cautiously into a wider chamber on your right.
[By this time the players can be assumed to have used Edgar’s tinderbox to make a couple of torches, using spare timbers from the mine, though they are probably limited to using strips of cloth from a blanket, or lengths of rope wrapped in cloth strands and such. Allow them to make torches that will burn for 3d10+10 minutes or so, and award D5+4xp for doing so.]
(After heavy hints about pieces of broken timber lying around, Varagon and Edgar finally cobbled together four torches, each with 15 minutes burn time.)
If they still haven’t made fire for some reason then: any player who suggests the other members of the crew stand and wait, and occasionally speak a word or two will gain d10 xp. Players who suggest that other party members remain quiet will gain d4xp. Members who suggest tying the party with rope or holding hands gain a further d6+4xp.
Your footsteps/comrades voices echo back at you from the chamber, giving you a vague sense of size – the cavern in which you find yourself is roughly circular, with a gently sloping floor that dips towards the centre. As a whole the room is perhaps 200 feet in diameter.
Again, any Dwarf with trade who passes a challenging (-10) Int test should be read the following:
Feeling along the walls, your hands catch on many small sharp edges, and the quality of the dust in your hands suggests that this cave was recently mined; the hue of the dust hinting at rubies.
Any player can take a sample of the dust, which can be later identified by either a Gold Wizard or Alchemist, (though both will charge 5gc for the privilege) as from a vein of ruby that runs through the mine. The sample should be restricted to 5enc, worth 35gc or 45gc to an Amber wizard, and is: Red and sparkles beautifully. Give 3+d5xp for sample taking.
If any player wishes to attempt to chip a chunk from the wall, they must first roll a very hard (-30%) perception test, (average with torches, the roll done in secret). Regardless the roll, the player convinces themselves:
You find what you suspect is a small vein of potentially lucrative ore.
The player now needs to pass a routine (10) agility test to chip it from the rock. They can use a dagger, a knife, or similar, in combination with a hammer or axe-head, but if they fail the test by more than 15% the smaller weapon is broken. If they passed the perception test by more than 10% then they find a single ruby worth 64gc, otherwise all they get is a hunk of worthless rock, but give d84xp either way. If anyone does manage to release a ruby from the rock, then they also a release a spray of larva, in which case they are allowed an average agility check or be damaged for d3+1 wounds, which ignores toughness but not armour.
If any player states that they are specifically searching the far side of the chamber, they will find a section of particularly smooth rock, which if lit can be seen to bear the mark of a broken pickaxe in chalk, suggesting that this section is too hard to mine
(The players do indeed succeed in procuring one or two nice gems.)

E – The Old Excavation
Players who pass an hard (-20%) perception test – plus twenty if player has excellent vision – notice markings on the walls before this cave in blood, which anyone can identify as implying danger ahead. The shape is of a large circle with a skull at its centre.
This enormous cavern has a roughly domed ceiling around 60 feet high, and the whole cavern is potholed and jagged from earlier mining. The cavern is visible by a soft light that emanates from within a circle of rocks at its centre some 400feet away. The rocks are about 5 feet high.
Players asking about the rocks or the light inside will notice it isn’t a giving off any smoke if they pass an average perception test, so if it’s a fire it’s burning some very old, dry wood.
If any players ask Jalid Fulist what he thinks:
“There’s something a little unnerving about a fire without smoke. I’d rather we leave it well alone and move on.”
Players who approach within 100 feet of the glowing rocks must then pass an average (0) WP test, (Note that Halflings get a further 10% to their roll. Players who noticed the sign on the wall who communicate their fears, adding 10% to further rolls, and gain d6+d3xp for doing so.) Or:
You find there to be something peculiar about the hue of the light, as seen through the translucent rocks. If player asks what exactly then:
The colours range from rich azure blue to bright yellows and reds, shot through with bright emerald shards that seem almost to move as the light flickers from the far side.
If any player approaches the rocks then other players can attempt to physically restrain them – opposed Strength tests with the victim having a plus 10% to his roll.
Any pc that reaches the stones should be read the following:
You realise that the light comes not from any fire, but from within the stones themselves.
Allow players one further hard (-20) WP test now, modified by their description of how they choose to interact with it. If they fail then:
You feel compelled to reach out and touch the rocks, and on so doing you feel a gentle warmth passing up your arm and towards your chest. You feel a surge of strength course through your veins, but no sooner has the moment of elation passed, it is replaced by shooting pains that convulse through your heart.
Player must take a challenging Toughness test (-10) or take d6+1wounds that bypasses armour but not toughness. If they lose more than 3 wounds they should roll an average T test to avoid falling into a state of shock for d10+number failed by in minutes.
After being thrown back by the sudden pain, you no longer feel drawn to the rocks, and turn from them in disgust, your mind filled with images of broken glass. You are in shock.
Irrespective of wounds incurred, the player immediately takes D3-1 insanity points, the implications of evil rocks of power represent a serious challenge for anyone hoping to keep a grip on reality. The first time this player enters combat in the next 48hours, he must pass a challenging
(-10WP) test or be: compelled by a bitter fury to bludgeon your enemies into the dust, and then again on the second combat, the player will attack the nearest ally after other opponents are dealt with, in an unhinged rage, for d5 rounds of Strength 10%, WS-10%.
Jalid can attempt to subdue this player using strike to stun. Prayers, and other ideas will help calm the player too. Players who succeed in the subduing should be given d10
Players who attempt to chip the rock will be thrown back in a similar way, but not damaged themselves if they avoid touching it, but should also take a –20 to their WS (-10 for halflings) for the next d5 rounds in which they attempt to use that weapon as: it seems whatever malign magic infected the rock has transmitted some kind of an after-shock to your weapon, making you clumsy with it as you try to bring it back under your control.

Whoever touched it has a week of bad sleep, resulting in – 5 to all stats on his main profile until the fifth night when his stats are no longer affected. This is just irritability at the contact with the rock and nothing more…honest…
(Varagon suggested the party should avoid the rock with his modest knowledge of dark materials – chaos – but Shifty went ahead, failing his WP test, then curious for precious ores – naturally – after which he passed a second WP test but decided to chip at the rock anyway, so comes away from this incident with a small green rock, which he understands is dangerous, and so wraps it in cloth).

Searching around the cavern reveals the signs of struggle – one rusty and worthless knife and one equally useless short sword, a few splashes of blood, and the remains of a large chip of the leg bone of some humanoid. You also discover a pickaxe (Enc 75, requires two hands to wield so at half WS for anyone without the Specialist weapon group (great weapon) talent, SB, impact, piercing, tiring, slow) near a pile of ash in one corner.

Players who manage to avoid the temptation of the rock can be awarded d10+2xp. Players enticed can be awarded d10+7xp for good roleplay. If any player takes the pickaxe and later uses it before selling it then award the party d3xp+1.

F + G1 + G2 – The Secret Tunnel entrance, Dwarf Hold and Precious Ore
Players travelling the length of this corridor who state they are looking for alcoves, or searching for similar protuberances are allowed a behind the hand perception roll as a group. Note if they say they are making a combined effort to look they get a (10) modifier and d52xp each.
If even this fails, then have the Dwarf with trade (mining) notice a change in rock type at F on the map on a successful Int test (regardless of whether he is searching).
You notice a shift in the quality of the rock here, for about two feet along the stone looks somehow out of place, as though put their deliberately…If they have the pickaxe they can attempt to chip at it, (an axe can be used but will be badly damaged by it) and after doing 24 wounds to it (T10),
…The rock gives way enough for one of you to squeeze through easily, revealing a narrow passage that leads steeply down to a small, stagnant smelling chamber that curves sharply to the left…
…At first you clearly make out a steady drip…drip…dripping noise, then your eyes adjust to the darkness within, your torchlight bouncing off damp walls and a wet floor at the bottom. It seems you have discovered a small underground cistern. Getting in to this room gains the party 3xp for each one who explores it.
It is slippery too, and any attacks are made at –15% WS as a result. Players concerned with flooding chambers can be re-assured by the Dwarf with trade (stonemason) (though I should make the roll for him) that the chamber looks safe to explore; the water runs away as quickly as it seeps in.
The Cave Eel
You feel a sudden flash of movement around your feet; – you are not alone! The shallow puddle of grey grimy water beneath you erupts in a splash of algae. A nine-foot long twin-headed snake rears up on the seat of its tail to strike you!

Ws Bs S T Ag Int Wp Fel
39 0 37 41 52 22 49 11
2 23 3 4 5/8 0 0 0

Skills: Hypnotism, Swim,
Talents: Frightening, Lightening reflexes, Natural Weapons (teeth), Resistance to poison, Strike mighty blow, Flee! Keen senses.
Trappings: None. Eel flesh is worth 50gc. (Enc 100), a whole ruby (the precious ore, discovered if the players split open the carcass), covered in digestive juices, and worth 87gc.
Armour: 2 to all
Poisoned attack: Any attacks that cause damage do an extra D2 damage if the pc fails a toughness test.
Hypnotic attack: Instead of attacking a pc with a standard attack, the Cave Eel can spend a full round attempting to hypnotise a player. This can only be attempted on players who are suffering from fear already. Hypnotise is an opposed WP test. If the Cave Eel wins, the player will be under its control for that round, and will get between his allies and the snake in an attempt to shield the snake. The hypnotism effect must be re-rolled each round, and is broken if the player is physically hurt by more than 2 wounds, or no longer suffers from fear.
The Cave Eel will attempt to grapple any player that does more than 7 points of damage to it in a single blow. If the Cave Eel is reduced to 9 wounds or less it will attempt to flee, sliding down the well around the corner at G2.
Killing the Eel or otherwise incapacitating it nets the party d20+d12xp, with an extra d5+1xp for the player who lands the first blow and 2d4+1xp for the killing blow.
Players who explore the alcove or chase the Cave Eel at G2 can be told: You turn about to your left and see a small pool of much darker water, your torchlight suggesting it is much deeper than the rest…Depending on how chatty the players are about exploring it…It seems to be a long narrow well formed naturally from the rock. It is no more than 18 inches across; and the water is deep. Evidently your twin-headed Cave Eel has its lair somewhere in the black depths.
If players have not killed the snake and are stupid enough to put a hand in, they will get it bitten clean off unless they pass a hard agility test (-20). See critical tables on 134, under “6”, plus take d4+1 wounds that ignores toughness. Players who wish to fish for gold and treasure will lose d10-2 feet of length from their ropes if the Cave Eel is still alive. If any of the players attempt to fish for the Eel, they will have to wait 2+d2 hours for a bite, and they’ll have to put out their torches, and offer a chunk of flesh weighing at least 50 enc. Success gives the player who suggested it 2d6+3xp, and the players who execute it get another d4+d5xp each.
(If memory serves me correctly, none of the PCs went fishing, but they did scare off the snake without any real trouble. Perhaps I should’ve used two of them.)

H – The Rock Fall Trap

Players who approach “H” from “I” are allowed a perception test each, with bonuses given to players who make their way slowly along the corridor, and those who state they are listening. Again, establish running order and formation. Those that pass are told:
You hear the noise of large rocks scraping against each other above you. Act quickly! Players are allowed a half round to act: Players are allowed a routine agility test (10) to dive clear of the falling rocks. Players who didn’t hear the rocks are allowed an average agility test, modified further if any players shout: “run” or “falling rocks” or some close variation (they are awarded D82xp), and players who physically shove their comrades clear are given 2d10+4xp. The rocks fall in an area 8ft around, landing near the middle of the passageway, which is 11ft wide. The rocks do d6+4 damage if caught within 2 feet of the centre, and D6+1 if character is nearer the perimeter, as I see fit. If any player takes 4 wounds or more from damage after armour but not after toughness, then their armour becomes less effective by a factor of 1.
Surviving the rock fall nets the party d10+3xp, and dealing with it imaginatively nets individuals d4+6xp.
This section of tunnel leads fairly steeply down and to the right, natural steps in the rock formed perhaps by periods of uneven and sudden igneous activity. The air that rises to meet you as you descend smells very slightly sulphurous. (See J below).
(The players escaped the rock-fall unharmed, but fortune points were spent.)

I1 – The narrow Tunnel
You are fortunate enough in your exploring to catch sight of a small gap in the main tunnel that leads off to the (left). This narrow fissure looks like it cuts back some considerable depth; looking into it you can see there are some stretches where the walls are very close together. If you are to proceed through the gap, it seems you will have to walk sideways, the proximity of the faintly glittering walls making free movement impossible. (Players in the tunnel count as having minus 20ws and minus 30bs, can only use their leading arm to fight with, and are not allowed to use combat related skills without heavy modifiers, although particularly descriptive turns of phrase can be awarded with d8+3xp each).
(Players chose marching order at this point – a sensible precaution.)
If anyone asks the dwarf with trade (stonemasonry) about the glittering walls or if he asks award d6+4xp, and have him take an easy (+20) Int test. Degree of pass indicates the following information.

Fail by no more than 20%, possibly free info: You can just make out in the yellow torchlight that the glitter is greenish brown, (and to Shifty – but you cannot recall having seen it before).
Fail by no more than 10%: Although you are unable to recall its name for the time being, you do remember that the sparkling stone is semi-precious in powder form, but so incredibly sparse relative to its distribution over the hard rock as to be worthless. (Give d4xp).
0-9: This glitter is part of a narrow vein of a (relatively) softer rock type, not intrinsically metallic in nature. (Plus d3xp).
10-19: Boron is made from the combining of Borax (a type of rock salt) and Carbon, a laborious process that requires immense heat…(Plus d5xp).
20 – 29: … It is a base element that when combined with Adamantine results in a strong metal with magnetic properties… (Plus d6+2xp for interesting suggestions at this point).
30 – 39: …It would be impossible to separate this element from rock into its pure powder form without the use of immensely high temperatures…(Plus d2xp).
40 or more: …although Lava might conceivably have done it in the past. (Plus d5xp).
(Shifty was given most of this info, and the team correctly deduced the likely importance of magic and larva therein).
If the players (probably including Shifty) conclude that whatever bored through the rock did so with an instrument of immense heat, possibly lava-like or magical in nature, without a good Int roll, then award an extra 2d8xp, to any player for explicitly sharing this info or explicitly asking Shifty about it.

I1 – The narrow Tunnel
You are fortunate enough in your exploring to catch sight of a small gap in the main tunnel that leads off to the (left). This narrow fissure looks like it cuts back some considerable depth; looking into it you can see there are some stretches where the walls are very close together. If you are to proceed through the gap, it seems you will have to walk sideways, the proximity of the faintly glittering walls making free movement impossible. (Players in the tunnel count as having minus 20ws and minus 30bs, can only use their leading arm to fight with, and are not allowed to use combat related skills without heavy modifiers, although particularly descriptive turns of phrase can be awarded with d8+3xp each).
(Players chose marching order at this point – a sensible precaution.)
If anyone asks the dwarf with trade (stonemasonry) about the glittering walls or if he asks award d6+4xp, and have him take an easy (+20) Int test. Degree of pass indicates the following information.

Fail by no more than 20%, possibly free info: You can just make out in the yellow torchlight that the glitter is greenish brown, (and to Shifty – but you cannot recall having seen it before).
Fail by no more than 10%: Although you are unable to recall its name for the time being, you do remember that the sparkling stone is semi-precious in powder form, but so incredibly sparse relative to its distribution over the hard rock as to be worthless. (Give d4xp).
0-9: This glitter is part of a narrow vein of a (relatively) softer rock type, not intrinsically metallic in nature. (Plus d3xp).
10-19: Boron is made from the combining of Borax (a type of rock salt) and Carbon, a laborious process that requires immense heat…(Plus d5xp).
20 – 29: … It is a base element that when combined with Adamantine results in a strong metal with magnetic properties… (Plus d6+2xp for interesting suggestions at this point).
30 – 39: …It would be impossible to separate this element from rock into its pure powder form without the use of immensely high temperatures…(Plus d2xp).
40 or more: …although Lava might conceivably have done it in the past. (Plus d5xp).
(Shifty was given most of this info, and the team correctly deduced the likely importance of magic and larva therein).
If the players (probably including Shifty) conclude that whatever bored through the rock did so with an instrument of immense heat, possibly lava-like or magical in nature, without a good Int roll, then award an extra 2d8xp, to any player for explicitly sharing this info or explicitly asking Shifty about it.

The narrow tunnel is silent and dark apart from your guttering torches.

Any players wishing to look ahead will be awarded d10xp for snuffing out their torches in order to espy anything further along. A soft yellow light is visible at the far end of the tunnel from 90 yards or so.

I2 – The Dwarf Stash
You enter into a natural cavern with a smooth flat floor, the soft light that you saw is from a pair of ember burning braziers set either side of the cavern. (Players who suggest reasons for this probably formed when lava settled out into it should be awarded d8+3xp and given a plus 10% to their next perception test). The walls glitter in much the same way as the walls of the fissure, (giving the players another opportunity to make observations on it, see I1, above. Towards the far side lies a large heavy looking, flat metal chest, about 10 feet long by 5 feet wide and stout at 2 feet high. On its lid you see depicted the raven of Morr, hammered out in profile. The eye of the raven is round, and painted bright white, and your friend, Jalid Fulist, reads aloud the words “costly burial” that are engraved beneath it in the language of Morr.
You cannot see any latches or obvious means of opening it, though there are hinges along the back edge. Players are awarded d4xp for asking Jalid how to open it or d8xp for pre-empting him.
“Though of course I am familiar with the symbol, this is an unusual shape for a coffin. My teaching strongly forbids disturbing the dead once they are put to rest, but if you are determined then you might perhaps try placing a coin over the eye of the bird and trading with him the fee of passage. Again, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He offers up a silent prayer.
This doesn’t work unless they use a ruby, which they can later retrieve with a very hard strength test. (D6xp). Attacking the chest with an axe or pickaxe (d3xp) takes rolling an 8 or more for damage on the first strike, and requires the player wielding the axe to hit just between the lid and the main body of the chest, a straight Ws test at 5% test. Any other hits that miss simply result in tiny scratches appearing on the surface.
In order to open the chest easily, a player must place a wick or other heat source over the eye at which point you hear a click and then the lid slowly rises on springs. Getting the chest open awards the party d5
2xp each. (The players struggle to open the chest, but then succeed, full marks for effort.)
“Morr is watching us closely, comrades.” Says Jalid as it swings up. Inside you can see the bones of a tall, black robed humanoid, a roll of parchment clutched tightly in his dead hand. Over each of his eyes you see a silver coin, and around his neck you see a chain (worth d12gc but conferring no other benefits) with a small eagle (the symbol of the Gold order) painted in white over the black pendant.
Jalid advises “leaving the coins” in place, “unless you feel that Morr will be lenient when you take your final rest.”
Using his intelligence Maxen can attempt to decipher the text of the parchment:
Free: Most of the parchment is covered in old but not ancient lettering, some of it faded over time, and some worn away by the running of the priest’s vapours through it after he died. The rest is barely legible but what little you can see is in old Reiklander. You can clearly make out the words: Chamon, the term for the Golden wind of Magic, and further references to Alchemical Thaumaturgy, (that is the use of heat and cold and other chemical processes to create substances of a magical and or valuable nature) and also the word magnetism, but beyond this, the meaning is unclear. (D3+3xp)
0-8% dos: you get the impression that this paper was a missive from the Golden order to the Morr priest who held it, asking him to desist from further research. (D4+3xp)
9-13% dos: Drawing hard on your memory you are just able to decipher the following text, with patches that are simply too badly run to read: “Concerning the dangers …and of powerful…outside of our noble houses…is regarded seriously as…you not a man of peace? Since …long establish…an order with…her heart…we give you exactly 1 month to…your…stone is a myth and shall likely…It trails off. (D4+5xp)
14-23% dos: At the bottom of the letter you can just make out what looks like the beginning of a prayer to Morr, written in a tongue more ancient than the rest, and therefore too difficult to read literally, but the gist is one of begging for forgiveness. (D3+5xp)
24-35%: Your reading this brings to mind the old Morrish proverb about a Magister of the Gold Order, one Metru Nenuik, who was slain by his own order for being in league with the dark powers. Metru died ranting that he’d found and then hidden the mythological Lodestone, a mythological container made from particularly rare and magnetically charged alloys. More importantly, in the story of the Lodestone, it was supposedly filled with pure liquid Chamon by the Golden Magisters in centuries past as a means of safeguarding their Aethyric investments. Nenuik thought that by seeking Morr’s co-operation he could cross into the realm of death and return safely if he gave Morr the Lodestone, a bargain that Morr refused. (D5xp+6xp)
(I had such fun imagining all this that I decided to share it all with Maxen and the others without any real demands on Varagon’s Int score.)
36% or more: You recall that in the story Nenuik failed because Morr regarded Chamon as a living substance, and therefore he could never accept it as legal tender in his realm. If the player asks Jalid what he knows: >>“Yes, I remember it was a favourite story of my mother’s every Saturday when the market was out in full force. I never expected it to be more than an old myth, but here we may have evidence that someone believed it could be done. To return from Morr’s realm indeed! My mother spoke of it being more likely for a witch hunter to pass through a mutant’s spare eye than for a Chamonic Magister to enter Sigmar’s holy realm with nought for the boatman but the usual two silver coins of crossing. The foolish Magister should have known he would fail. I’ve always believed it is not only pointless to try and trade with Morr, but potentially damaging to one’s…long term prospects. It may be that this man’s spirit lies here still, unable to rest.”
(D10+6xp to party).
Maxen is particularly cunning in his attempts to ascertain more info from me or from Jalid, so is allowed to subtract 4% more to his roll and should be awarded an extra d8+d2xp.
If any player states that they are examining the coffin by removing the dead body, hand them the piece of paper with “Morr forgive me” written at the top, saying: it seems you are not the only one interested in uncovering dangerous mysteries, and hand out 2D4+2xp to that individual, The Morrish priest will not be impressed with this action, however, and if forced at any point to heal the party, will not that player until last.
If nobody searches the coffin, have the Morrish priest notice the second scroll sticking up from under the dead man’s shirt, and share it with Varagon (Maxen): “What’s this? It is not written in a language I am at all familiar in. You might do better to keep this, Varagon, being as you are the student here.” It is written in the ink of magic, meaning Varagon will be the only one to understand it, but he is encouraged to spell it out to the others.
While the players attempt to translate Shifty’s letter, Jalid will attempt to cast blessings upon them and himself as a means of protecting them from whatever is within, though he will do so from a safe distance, setting up a perimeter of lights and incanting positive rights.
“I suggest you be quick if you are to avoid whatever malign influence is held within from detecting you. I will spend some time incanting a right of Morr’s blessing; feel free to join me.”
(I should have been less forthcoming about just how potentially dangerous this blessing was.)
If any players can translate Shifty’s letter in less than half an hour, they should be awarded 4d8+8xp each. If it takes the party less than one hour they can have 2d8+5xp each. Unsuccessful but enthusiastic attempts can be awarded d8+4xp each.
(The players managed to translate most of the letter over a two hour period, and in the event I gave them the full translation, rewarding Shifty with more xp for particular effort).
Upon translating it, the soul of the dead man is released as a spectre: if the players joined the priest in setting up his prayer, or in offering up their own prayers, or managed to translate it within an hour, the ghost will not a attack. In any case it releases a shrill cry of anguish as it rises from its prison and into the aethyr. You also hear a thunderous laugh that is so loud you are knocked to your knees clutching your bleeding ears (toughness test or lose d2 wounds), though the sound doesn’t seem to come from the spectre as such, but rather from within your owns heads. (D2 insanity points each).
(The players decided to translate the letter and then leg it to a safe distance. I should’ve seen that coming! The spectre simply faded after going BOOM, which was probably sensible given the players had no magic weapons at this point.)
Spectre stats are on page 110 of the bestiary. Players standing within 4 yards of the priest will remain unharmed by it. If players took a long time translating Shifty’s letter then they will need to write a letter of supplication, written in the same tongue (i.e. roughly translatable by me and Jalid). He will then use this letter to ward off and send away the spectre. Removing the spectre ends the adventure if time is getting on. Award the players 2d20+3d10+4d6+5d5+1d12+6xp (averaged and divided equally) if they do so. Cue dramatic rescues!

J – The Slippery section.
You find yourself at the top of a natural landing, and the tunnel curves slowly round to your right and then gradually down a slope that is wet on it’s leftmost edge; water trickles steadily down along a natural gutter in the 35 degree slope from a small cleft in the rock above you on the left of the landing.
Players who make educated guesses about the source of the water or where it runs to can be awarded d6xp for the party.
As your approach the middle of the slope you notice a flow of warm, moist air rising to meet you, and can see dull white light leaking from the cave at the base of the slope some 100 yards away. At your feet you see the gutter shallows out to nothing, and the water flows from its end on the left and spreads across the whole slope, where moss grows in abundance.
Players are given (d8+3xp) for imaginative use of rope or other climbing techniques. The walls of this section provide no handholds.
Agility checks made in abundance; give Edgar the benefit of a low centre of gravity combined with the fact that he’s carrying less than the dwarfs. If the players continue down the slope: You begin to slide down…surfing the moss! The slope levels off at the end of the tunnel.
(Edgar does a good job of skiing down the slope, and shouts up to Varagon that all is safe. Shifty had not yet arrived to play, and so the form of the adventure required killing time before he arrived, so I threw in a half dozen rats to keep Edgar and Maxen on their toes, which felt messy. Again, better to play with 3 Player Characters from the outset.)

K – The Natural Spa
The tunnel comes to an end in an open archway, which opens out into a wide, conical shaped cave lit from high above by daylight that pours through a round opening. The smell of salts and mild sulphurs rises slowly in the air above a large roughly circular pool of warm water that has a faint yellowish tinge to it.
Players may wish to test the water, but it has no effect besides being more buoyant than ordinary fresh water, although if they stay in it for more than 10 minutes or so, there skin will start to wrinkle much more severely than it usually would. Drinking the water is dangerous! Anyone who does must pass an easy (20) willpower test, or keep drinking for dToughness/10 rounds, and for each of those rounds s/he must take a toughness test, starting at easy (20), and increasing in difficulty each round. If that player fails a toughness test they will have 48hours to find a priest of Shallya, or turn ghoulish.
The water tastes bitter, the mixture of salt and sulphur churning your insides, but it is very thirst quenching, and you find the urge to continue drinking irresistible.
Players not drinking the water are allowed an opportunity to notice the drinking player with a routine (10) Int test. If by the penultimate round they still haven’t spotted that their comrade is drinking greedily, then: Your comrade has taken on an insatiable thirst, and wishes to drink the pool dry. It is to be hoped that they will physically restrain him from drinking any more before it is too late. (D53xp). OR
You feel sick with the water flooding your gut; yet still don’t stop drinking it. Eventually you throw up your last ration into the pool, (d6+2wounds that ignores armour), and collapse by its rim, gurgling with dissatisfaction.
They may wish to clean their weapons in it, but this will abrade the weapon, giving it a 5% chance of breaking (if a fumble is rolled, then roll again and on a result of 01-20% the weapon breaks).
If there are any new characters joining the party, now might be the time to introduce them. If the players have not already encountered the Cave Eel, or have encountered it but not killed it now would be a good time to have it re/introduced:
As you approach the pool, relieved at having found a break in the darkness, a ten-foot long water snake rears up out of the pool, keen to defend its young, who can be seen wriggling under the surface of the warm water. It hisses madly at you as it slithers towards you, and its scales make a horrid rustling sound across the stone surrounding the pool. The snake looks to be in the advanced stages of shedding its skin; chunks of blue flesh hang from it like thick vellum.

(The 3 players now all present, they climb out of the cavern, or rather attempt to do so, by hoisting up a rig to the hole in the top of this cave. They then overpower the second snake, Shifty doing some particularly heroic jumping down on it. Edgar’s slingshots are going off too well, and so he cracks it’s skull. I was disappointed with myself for making this encounter so easy, but Shifty remembers it favourably. Maxen goes for a suicide pact with Edgar from restless boredom, and they try to drown themselves intentionally in the sulphurous rock-pool, diving after a flipping hand-axe, for heaven’s sake. I make it difficult for Maxen, then argue with him about so-called drowning “rules”. Luckily Shifty pulls Varagon to safety with his last breath, and Varagon coughs up a light couple of wounds).
If the players have already encountered the water snake and have killed it, then have them encounter another with more ghoulish stats, as follows:
Ws Bs S T Ag Int Wp Fel
39 0 37 41 52 22 49 11
2 29 3 4 5/8 0 0 0

Skills: Hypnotism, Swim,
Talents: Frightening, Lightening reflexes, Natural Weapons (teeth), Resistance to poison, Strike mighty blow, Flee! Keen senses, poisoned bite (2damage on failed toughness test), fearless.
Trappings: Impressive fangs.
Armour: 2 to all
Any player who rolls Ulric’s fury may then add +1 damage when fighting this creature, owing to its tender underbelly.
Players can cast blessing spells or prayers over the water, and this will add another 12 hours to the time it takes someone to turn into a ghoul, but this must be done before the water is drank. (D8

(The session ends here, with my nerves thoroughly frayed from arguing rules with Maxen. [GMaxen says: sorry P.J.! I mean it!] He incurs a dip in xp for arguing using player knowledge of the core rules. I dish everyone out about 100xp in the event, and feel thwarted as a GM for allowing myself to be so manipulated. I am pleased that in the end the adventure was reasonably well executed; all three players appreciated my attention to detail and my evocative narrative of the caverns and religious/magic back story. I left the session believing I had been over prepared, and intended to run the next session much more on the fly, thus better allowing me to navigate the choppy and changeable waters of improvisation.)

Latest session – 01/05/2011

So, the players leave the cave system at the eastern edge of the Grey Mountains and find a small village – Clithorpe – on the far side. Here they buy a meal or two for 6 brass each, and some rations (2 rations for 4brass pennies, 8 rations for 12bp or thereabouts, as well as some iron tongs for handling Shifty’s green stone, and meet the human Roadwarden called Zunryu, played by newcomer Valraven. Edgar is out of play, so the party – including the ever-reliable Jalid (pronounced Yalid), leave Edgar Fleetfoot in Clithorpe, and begin the 3 week hike, north to Nuln, following the river along a tow path, Les’ light warhorse in tow.
To kick things off, talk in Clithorpe concerns the nature of Shallya, Goddess of Mercy, when Varagon talks to Jalid over a pipe and an ale. I award Maxen the academic knowledge – religion skill, after Varagon demonstrates considerable understanding of the “Old Faith”; a conglomerate of paganism, healing and the positive spirit inherent in all nature. I (or rather Jalid) express the development of Taal and Rhya as modern embodiments of a similar religious type; nature inherent in spirit, bifurcations of fertility and fecundity. More reading for me! I want Varagon to trust that his conversations with Jalid reveal genuinely useful information, so I will study Taal and Rhya further. Varagon originates in Norse country, where Taal is more predominant as the masculine embodiment of the warrior-like nature typical of the Norsemen.
Shifty is directed by a Clithorpe resident to find one “Johann Fletcher” who works out of a store in Nuln called the “Flagrant Vagrant”, a pub at the front and weapon store at the back, the latter open only on weekends. Johann Fletcher (not yet encountered) also has a keen interest in weapon modification, thus allowing Shifty to pursue his weapon designs further down the line. Any sketches he wishes to draw/notes he wants to make between sessions will result in more rapid weapon creation…
I talked then with Les about his first and new character, Zunryu. We agreed that his parents travelled from far Cathay some years before he was born, far to the East of the World’s Edge Mountains, even further east than dune-swept Araby, hence Zunryu has swarthy skin and long lashes that cover slanting eyes. He has for the last 8 years or so been a Roadwarden who aided and oversaw the protection of Clithorpe’s eastern road; it has become increasingly quiet with the general retreat of beastmen and other menaces further north over the last few months.
The party moves out at day break, and by ten or so in the morning they top a rise and meet the main river flow heading east-northeast, where they quickly espy a trade barge carrying two Dwarves; Paul McByers, the boats owner and captain, and Gretchen, his companion and aide. Zunryu raises his pistol at them immediately, his wariness presumably a first jolt of anxiety at being so far west outside his homeland, but Jalid stays his hand in order that they might parley, and so the party engage the new duo in chat. Cue much thickly accented speech and easy roleplay.
It turns out that the Scotch sounding Paul and Norse sounding Gretchen have lost a number of crew to passing brigands, and so they grudgingly offer the PCs a schilling a day each if they will help protect the barge, crew and (lumber & coal) cargo from theft or damage until they reach Nuln, with a further 90bp on arrival if successful. Varagon is adept in bartering.
All obliging, the barge sets off. The day passes uneventfully, the barge travelling at a moderate 2 or 3 knots, and although slightly slower than walking, is certainly a stylish, relaxing way to travel. The players enjoy the undulating scenery, and are also given meals and bunks. Les’ horse walks alongside, tethered to the front end of the boat.
Around dusk the steam-powered barge moors on the Northern bank of the 30foot wide river, and the horse is tied up securely for the night. Varagon takes first watch alongside Jalid at the helm, and the others while away an hour gambling around a table in the fore of the barge, opposed intelligence checks against the dealer – Paul – who finishes better off than Shifty or Zunryu, while Gretchen kneads bread for the morrow’s breakfasting under the failing light of a gas lamp over the kitchen area half way along the boat.

All at once, Varagon raises the alarm. He has heard the horse whinnying at something, and so alerts his comrades before hopping easily to the north bank and tow path, pulling out his trusty axe. He can now hear a chittering laughter and ugly scratching noises coming from beyond the wall on the land-side of the bank. First to respond to the alert is Gretchen, who dashes out and recognises the sound as goblinoid scum. She dashes for Zunryu’s horse, in order to free it in case anything goes awry, but Zunryu shouts “Leave my horse and take the goblins!” She obliges as Shifty reaches the helm, whereupon he fires a sure shot into the first visible Goblin’s chest, splitting its heart in two!
Paul makes for the helm, and Jalid runs to the left onto the first coal caravan, preparing to let the goblins advance before striking. Varagon is up and on the wall and determined to go straight into the pack of uglies, narrowly dodging a reactive slice by the deceased’s nearest comrade. The next greenskin to make himself known shouts an angry curse at Varagon, but can do little to reach him quickly in the tall marsh grasses.
Gretchen leaps the wall easily and is down on the head of the nearest goblin before it can say “Stunty woman break my skull”. Zunryu leaves his pistol aboard, swaps to his dagger, and runs to help at the break in the wall where Varagon stands readying his attack after Gretchen.
Varagon launches his first strike, swinging his axe wildly towards the shoulder of the nearest foe. His aim is wide as he is still atop the wall, and so after only nicking the greenskin’s arm, Varagon’s stout body follows and he drops down into the fray. Paul moves to the link between the main barge and the cargo, hoping to defend his livelihood as a good captain should.
After a moment’s hesitation and snivelling, the goblins launch a counter-offensive; they spread out, one moving to another break in the wall to the right, hoping to flank, while the others close on Gretchen.
McStabalot wants to fire again but would risk hurting Gretchen or Varagon, so drops his crossbow at the helm and switches to his axe before dropping to the bank. Varagon launches another angry strike, this goes wide, but pushes the goblin back, who stumbles in the marsh, leaving it vulnerable. Gretchen howls in glee and buries her dagger in it’s quivering throat.
Paul stays put, and Jalid prepares a pistol shot. He is not proficient, but he is desperate. Zunryu reaches the wall behind Gretchen and hops up ready for action.
The horse is badly panicked, and so has got tangled in the rope and fallen down on the tow path, prone, and now the flanking goblin leaps onto the wall above the horse, a greedy glimmer of hunger dripping from its hatred-filled nostrils. Shifty sees the danger immediately and moves in, anger powering his speedy advance.
Varagon is frustrated by the thick grasses, and cannot move quickly enough to engage the enemy. He tries to charge, but his strike is hindered and goes low, chopping the grasses down to size. Gretchen has the look of a thousand grudges in her fierce eyes as she slices again at the nearest goblin, this time only making it angrier. Luckily for her, immediately after it hews at her leg, Jalid’s pistol shot passes low over Varagon’s head and breaks the goblin’s face.
There are now only three goblins left. The first sees the others falling and decides to break for freedom, narrowly avoiding the dagger that Zunryu brings up where it’s chest was a moment ago.
The flanking Goblin jumps down and buries it’s dagger deep in the poor horses thigh, narrowly missing its heart. Shifty charges in and launches a fierce attack on the horses death-bringer, catching it squarely under the arm in an upward arc. He separates the goblin’s arm from it’s ugly body, and it goes down squealing. The last remaining goblin struggles to reach Gretchen, unaware that he is totally outclassed, but Varagon moves forward and beats it back, burying his axe in its scrawny hip, which turns to pulp. The battle is over and the party heals up fine. The horse undergoes some reparative healing, but is still deeply traumatised and bleeding slowly, so will need to rest for at least two whole days, then after perhaps be sent back to the stables in Clithorpe for a time. It certainly cannot bear the weight of a rider for a week or more, at least not without seriously powerful healing draughts.
The team set the ugly, broken bodies of the greenskins on fire. Unfortunately this attracts a couple of curious and hungry orcs, a big ******* and his scrawny mate. They are soon dispatched and scared off respectively, (retribution, anyone?) and the session closes soon after Zunryu finds some poison darts, along with a few coin which is shared amongst the others. He then hacks off the gauntlet of the lead orc, which has similarly poisoned claws. Xp was given for outstanding heroism, good fortune, death-dealing, barter, gambling, watchfulness, and of course most importantly inquisitive and intentional roleplay, as always.
A good session.
Max is running a new character, an ashen-haired young Human mercenary called Valdes, who begins the adventure with plenty of stories about dispatching Orcs. He helped keep them at bay when they repeatedly attempted to raid his home town, a …fort many miles inside the Empire’s western region of Ostermark. Of course Valdes understands the value of making a reasonable living killing poorly organised squads of greenskins, but in his heart he feels a growing suspicion that violent conduct is not necessarily the most fulfilling way of going about things. But, like a typical Ostermarkan, he tends to keep these feelings to himself.
Following the apparantly ceaseless trail of orcish blood, Valdes finds himself south and east of the Grey Mountains, where he first encounters (NPCs) Varagorn, Zunryu and Zunryu’s injured horse by the river side, and they spend a little time talking, Valdes ascertaining their plans. It turns out that Varagorn and Zunryu are on their way back to Clithorpe to rest up and heal the steed fully, or more realistically replace it, before heading back west to the lofty Grey Mountains to unearth whether stories of a new and potentially dangerous cult could be substantiated. (Max kindly accepts the hints that this adventure is for another time…)
After also hearing from the two travellers that a trade barge bound for Nuln lost all of its wood cargo in a second raid in three nights, Valdes decides to try and catch up with the barge to see if he can help rebuild and restock it. Having bought a few meagre rations from Varagorn, Valdes reckons he has enough supplies to last till he reaches the moored barge providing he’s careful, and so begins the three days hike west along the river Altek.
After a long day’s lonely march over low hills on the north side of the river, Valdes comes across a herd of 2 dozen cows swathed in early evening mists, filling their bellies by the grass-banked river. The cows are fenced in on 3 sides of a large field, which measures roughly 2 hectares, and a modest farm building sits at one corner of the land, smoke ambling from its brick chimney.
Valdes is already getting hungry, and as he lacks any real skill with regard to hunting or foraging in the wilds, so he approaches the dusk-lit building and makes peaceable conversation with the farmer, Milo, in the hope of earning enough food and further rations to continue.
Milo tells Valdes that ‘me and the wife Kerry have lost a few cows to thieves recently’, so Valdes offers to keep watch for them over night, as well as helping to milk in the morning, both in exchange for food. Naturally Milo agrees, and then swans off to bed, leaving Valdes with enough dry timber for a fire and beef gruel to keep himself warm. Valdes pitches up in the corner of the field opposite the farmhouse, but instead of making a fire, he eats hungrily and draws his thick cloak around him.
Just as he is trying not to doze off, Valdes hears a disturbance from outside the farmhouse. Warily he investigates, his crossbow at the ready, but it turns out to be Kerry, who was being kept awake by the cowbells. She unhitches the offending articles and goes back inside with a nod to our hero-in-the-making.
Valdes then hears another kerfuffle coming from the hay barn ‘round the back, where he uncovers a single very angry, very large spider with chitinous armour. It attempts to bite through Valdes boots and fails, bending its teeth. Valdes slices a couple of its legs off, it tries to flee, but then he runs it through with his sword. The blood sizzles as the cat-sized spider dies, the fluid creating deep holes in the hay. Some kind of acid, perhaps. Valdes steps back in disgust, his nose curling. Woken by the noise of Valdes’ surprise, Milo comes out and swiftly hoists the spider’s corpse into the river with a pole-arm, before explaining that the hay barn was ‘infested with the bloody things back in summertime. That was probably the last of them’, Milo says, but in any case neither of them bothers to suggest finding out for sure at this ungodly hour.
After an otherwise restful night, Valdes sets off in the morning with the couple’s gratitude; 20 silver, a quart of milk and another of grog, and 2 days fresh beef rations. He wishes them well in finding the cattle-thieves and continues along the Altek.
Before long he reaches the barge – The Birch Belle – and it’s there that he meets Shifty Mcstabalot for the first time, a Dwarven Shield breaker, who has been manning it while the Dwarven captain, Mcbyers, his first mate, Gretchen and a Moorish priest – Jalid, have gone north in search of timber to reconstruct and then replace the wood that was cut adrift in a raid by greenskins some four nights ago (or 7 months in real time!)
Shifty and Valdes attempt to reconstruct the last float of the barge from the remnants of what was left, but they are hampered without the proper tools and only a passing knowledge of carpentry. They discuss moving north to find the 3 other members of the crew, but neither are happy about this because according to the map on the barge, the nearest trees are three days north and that would mean leaving the safety of the barge.
The good news is Shifty has acquired a storm lantern from the barge’s hold, and so, after it becomes obvious that stocks of food on the barge are running dangerously low, he and Valdes take a short walk to hunt for fresh rabbit, staying in view of the barge in case the goblins return. The sun is setting when they begin exploring the surrounding fields.
Hunting rabbit is a fairly straightforward task for someone who knows how to create a snare, but since neither of them are particularly skilled at this, they decide to team their imaginations together to bolster their chances. They are in luck, soon finding a warren of twenty or so rabbit living in the cleft of a nearby field. The two hunters suggest that rabbit might get scared of bright light, but instead of running, might simply stop dead in their tracks, making them easier to shoot. I like the idea and run with it, so they succeed in sneaking close enough before Shifty opens one side of the lantern in the eyes of a rabbit, who panics and freezes. Valdes shoots this one down with a single bolt of his crossbow, before the rest high-tail it, and the hungry heroes walk back to the barge for stew.
While Shifty and Valdes were out concentrating on their supper, the 3 other crew members return with some timber. They haven’t brought enough to finish the reconstruction, but at least they have a hunk of fresh venison and a big sprig of herbs and berries to help things along. Mcbyers says that ‘one more trip into the wilds for the last of the necessary wood will have to be undertaken before the barge can continue its journey to Nuln’, but at least Valdes has a good meal for a change, and he’s now also in the employ of Mcbyers for much needed cash.
Bloody Sunday Campaign Day 6. The Badger Cull. Date 18/12/11. Present: GM, Luke Calloway, Josh, Simon and Robin.
by Rob Bailey
The night passes uneventfully. Early the next morning Drummond is up looking to help the Dwarves find Thorbane, but they have slipped away west into the mines around Grey mountains already, following their incorrect assumption that Thorbane… loves being underground. Adz enjoys a lie-in, and is awoken by the landlord, who insists that food and lodgings are on [the Inn-keepers] basis, and breakfast time has long since passed. Reluctantly Adz leaves the tavern, and goes to the general store in search of fresh rations. On his way he sees Byers and Gretchen waiting with their supplies already purchased. Adz enters ‘The Mellifluous Magi’, and meets the shopkeeper – a dark skinned and haired Arabian, with a well-travelled accent to match. Goodness gracious me!
After purchasing a little food, Adz attempts to steal back the silver that just crossed the Arabian’s palm. He fails, and the Arabian – Mista Ford – shouts at him to leave immediately and not come back. On Adz way out he spots a trinket…a lamp. Yes – one of the magic variety! Ford goes into a gesticulating panic when he sees Adz quickly give the lamp a rub, so Adz nips out the door onto the street and Ford slams the shop door behind him, barring it from the inside. Pale green smoke siphons from beneath the shop’s door, and after ruining his new hand-axe trying to get back in, Adz waits for the smoke to solidify.
It’s Genie time! This genie is portly, has blue skin covered in bright red freckles that emit more of the smoke, and wears his hear in two pig tails. He is taken as a temporary (n)pc by Simon, granting Adz ONE wish! This could be any GM’s worst nightmare, but in very adept fashion Simon plays the: ‘you can have one wish, but I will interpret it in any way I like’ game. So, what would YOU wish for? Of course this is a difficult one to get right, and that turns out to be a great measure of the fun of it. With Adz’ fondness for the good life, so decides (at the fairly heavy cost of a single fate point), he wants a purse of priceless parsimony, and this is exactly what he gets.
The Genie says ‘if anyone ever asks you for money, you will find it in exactly the right quantity inside your purse.’ This leads to much hilarity, with Luke playing within the bounds of player knowledge, so he pretends not to be aware that the added caveat invented by Simon is that all the coin be in brass pennies! The imagined result is of the purse overflowing, bulging endlessly with coins on request. We all really enjoyed this, but being a GM occasionally comes with a price – sometimes one has to step in and make things just a little…rounder, shall we say. I imposed two additional caveats on Adz’ purse which Simon will only now be aware of. Namely that this occurrence was limited to a maximum of thrice daily, and that the purse itself is limited by it’s size to a maximum of three hundred coins. As 240 brass is the equivalent of 1 gold coin, this purse is effectively a nice little earner without being a hazardously powerful toy. Also, it works for anyone who acquires it, motivating Adz to take good care to conceal it’s powers. Sadly I am unwilling to negotiate the correctness of this; my standpoint is likely to remain fixed. At least…if they can re-acquire the now heavily guarded lamp…then who knows? Simon now owns use of the Genie as a currently dormant NPC.
So, after grabbing the shopkeeper and demanding food, Thorbane acquires 3 weeks good rations, and he uses this as barter to join the group. Drummond is naturally more than happy to accept…They all set off east towards the barge at 11am. In the middle of the afternoon they meet Varagon, Zunryu and a badly injured horse coming the other way, and after some confusion, a spilled sack of coin and some offence which is best forgotten, the main group continue eastward, Varagon’s eyes boring needles into Adz’ back.
After a long march along the north bank of the river, they make camp at dusk…Adz volunteers to take first watch and all is quiet…initially. But then…Robin arrives and takes on the role of Gretchen. Luke is now playing Byers as well as Adz, while I continue to run Jalid as a source of light healing and religious wisdom. Drummond attempts to teach Jalid a little Tilean, but Jalid is too tired for languages. All but Adz go off to sleep, Thorbane having fallen into a contented, wine-induced snore.
An hour or so later, Adz hears a scrabbling, grunting noise coming from the bushes some 20 yards away. He nudges Drummond awake, who listens and determines wild boar as the source – generally only unfriendly if provoked…which is exactly what they do! First off, Adz raises the alarm when a larger, hairier creature flies in from the left and attacks the three wild boars. The heroes stand ready for attack, Jalid grabs a flaming stick, and Drummond loads his six-shooter.
One boar screeches off and away, it’s short tail curled down. Another of the boar is mauled to death by what turns out to be a giant badger with a club for a tail. Drummond assumes (correctly) that the club is a racial feature, rather than a mutation. In any case he fires a shot as the 10 foot long badger piles into view playing with a recently cleaved four-foot tusk. The third and last living boar skitters out from behind cover of the brush, and Gretchen plays entirely within character, immediately cleaving at it with her sword as it tries to run past. This brings the boar to a sudden halt, jarring its neck. It turns on Gretchen just as Thorbane launches a high attack on its flank which only slashes it.
The giant badger is set upon by Drummond’s pistol shots and Byers’ sword. Adz throws his knife at it, which sticks in its flank. Then Jalid throws his flaming torch, which falls short. The boar stabs his tusks at Gretchen’s middle, but she gets off lightly to begin with – is only badly bruised, and steps back. Another of Drummond’s bullets causes the badger to go into a frenzy, and it becomes a whirling mass of black and white hair. It lashes out at Adz, who got too close and promptly loses his left leg to its claws just below his hip joint. He collapses in shock and Luke chooses to expend his second and last fate point in order to remain alive. By doing so, the burning stick (that still lies where Jalid landed it) is kicked up by the whirling wild badger, spins through the air and lands smack bang on Adz bleeding stump, staunching the blood immediately.
Gretchen meanwhile has taken a sorry goring from the wild boar, also losing her left leg from below the knee. She chomps at the bit, and lets loose a cackle of adrenalin-mad laughter. The boar and badger are put down. The badger pelt is carved off by Drummond. After cleaning it in the river he folds it over his frame as a hairy, white striped cloak. Being of Kislevian descent, Drummond knows a thing or two about keeping warm!
Healing and experience are handed out, Adz then takes the loose tusk and whittles out the thick end, using it as a replacement leg. In four weeks or so of game time he will be comfortable walking on it, but for now Luke suffers heavy penalties to Move, Weapon Skill and Agility stats, inevitably. Gretchen is in a similar position.See more
20 December 2011 at 11:04
Campaign Day 7 – Hunting Goblins. Present: GM (Jalid, Byers, Gretchen, Thorbane, Valdes), Luke (Adz), Josh (Drummond), Matt Sampson (Shifty Mcstabalot), Matt (Elina). Date 08/01/12

Play begins by rolling up Matt’s new character, the halfling field warden, Elina. She has an inquisitive way of going about things. After leaving The Moot – akin to Tolkien’s ‘Shire’ – with a powerful case of wander-lust, which is just what every adventurer needs to give them a kick up the arse, of course. She tends to take the ‘wander’ part of the expression fairly literally.
After some years travel west through the fields and by the rivers, miraculously untroubled by beasts of the dark dells…she finds herself footloose in Wissenland, and happens to meet the other adventurers at the moored barge, The Birch Belle. Shifty has been keeping a close eye on things with Jalid the Morrish initiate bearing a reactive receptivity. Also on board is Gretchen, the purple-eyed, yellow haired, wild hearted Dwarf, who is in a foul mood owing to her lost leg and incumbent disabilities.
The Belle’s captain Byers and fellow hire-lancer Valdes had been back once again to Rorhausen to get loan of a horse and cart for the transporting of fine pinewood timbers back to the Belle from nearby Fluorn Forest. Valdes decides to stay in Rorhausen a few days, however, to better acquaint himself with the fine maiden who works the tables of The Clithorpe Inn. (In Wiltshire possibly – ed).
Thorbane is given to repairing the Birch Belle, but this goes awry as he is out of good timber. So he travels alone, North to the woods, carrying a map given to him by Gretchen and an axe to get started. The rest of the crew hear nothing from him for a couple of days.
Shifty has elaborated upon his weapon designs in some detail, and the results are intriguing. For example, he wants to include the fashioning of carrier-bullets in the design, intending that these should hold small amounts of different potions; liquids that burst through the front of the bullet by means of extra weight at the back of each one that force through into the bloodstream on impact. He suggests these include poisons, strong sleeping draughts, and even healing shots. This could well prove to be an important and adaptable weapon in the heat of battle. Naturally it will be costly to source the potions and especially the metals – most likely the fine, dwarf-hewn ‘Gromril’, a strong and flexible substance. Also he still needs to find and meet his best contact in Nuln – the weapon seller Johann Fletcher, owner of the Flagrant Vagrant Inn. As well as selling some good quality weapons and sharing an interest in weapon modification, Johann is bound to know a good blacksmith. If said blacksmith happens to be educated in the ways of alchemical processes, so much the better. Shifty states clearly that his designs are drawn in a way that only he can decipher, making it impossible for others to copy his handiwork. A nice touch.
Byers returns alone to the Birch Belle. He is very pleased to see Gretchen, but is as frustrated by her injuries as much as she is pained by them. Drummond is sympathetic to their plight, and offers all his help in finding the Goblinoids who got them in this mess, so that he can fix things for them. Byers agrees that his help would be valuable indeed.
Adz is also badly injured, so decides to stay with Jalid and Gretchen to recuperate and assist in keeping the Belle from ‘cough’ harm. Byers, Shifty, Drummond and Elina decide to hike north for good timber to mend and replenish the barge, duly setting off for Fluorn Forest early the next morning with the horse and cart. Any Goblins they get to kill along the way is all to the good.
After setting off and leaving the others, Byers and Drummond stop briefly for lunch in the dell of a wide valley, while Shifty looks for wild game for his empty stew pot, Elina following him at a meandering distance, hugging the trees…literally. Evidence of a recent encounter with the fairy queen, perhaps? Drummond sensibly checks his tools and weapons for wear and tear and enjoys his food, then sees that Byers is still upset by the fate of his drinking-mate Gretchen, so enquires if there’s anything else he can do. Byers says he’s concerned about the fate of the Belle as well as Gretchen, and that eating quickly so they can be on their way is the best thing.
Further ahead, Shifty has spotted two young boar. He approaches cautiously, keeping low, and gets to within range, loosing a shot from his crossbow. It falls short, but is close enough that they get spooked and flee through a small gap in a nearby hedge. They sprint off up the hill out of the valley, westward towards a woodland at the top of a rise, whereupon the two boar meet a worse fate by arrows shot from unknown archers from inside the woods. Three small greenskins run out to collect their bounty, all wearing armour above the waist. One of them still has an arrow notched, trained down on the hedge where he knows someone is hiding. As the other two greenskin scum start dragging the dead meat up to edge of the wood, Elina runs up behind Shifty and asks what’s going on. Shifty signals her to keep low and quiet. Still, the goblinoid spots Elina; He is about to try and thwart her attempt with her slingshot when, seeing the gobo is distracted, Shifty fires another bolt over the top of the hedge which buries in its green leg, tearing lethally through a major artery. The other two goblins leg it, so Shifty collects his seven rations of fresh boar meat, and the quartet turn back east towards Fluorn Forest, Byers in a more jovial mood.
Meanwhile back on the Barge, Adz is busy practicing his handstands with the intention of overcoming the problems involved in owning three limbs. His agility while upside down proves surprisingly useful in not knocking the barge to pieces! He also engages the morose Gretchen in a subtle variation of ‘higher or lower’. It is engrossing, but although Gretchen is grumpy and already three sheets to the wind, they both still finish having done no more than break even. Really Luke deserved to win more from that exchange – I should have awarded him a couple of Silver pieces for Gretchen’s thick-headedness. If you’re reading this, Luke, feel free to mark Adz’ coinage up.
The quartet travel for another four hours, during which time Adz and Jalid converse aboard the barge on religious matters, agreeing that any suffering that can be avoided should be avoided before entering Morr’s dark slumber most peacefully… while Gretchen snores loudly from her bunk.
Shifty, Byers, Drummond and Elina reach the edge of the woods and decide to use the last of the daylight to head inward. They move unperturbed through the sparsely wooded broadleaf of the southernmost tip of Fluorn Forest, before making camp at the edge of the more densely packed pines a few hours later.
The night is uneventful, and by 10am the four lumberjacks discover a clearing amongst the pines where signs of a recently abandoned camp lie in evidence. The wood here is ideal for their purposes of barge-repair, but the four are wary of fresh goblin raids, so investigate further and find an old stone tableau which appears to have been desecrated by greenskins for the purposes of bloody amusement.
Beyond this they find a slope leading down to a cavern. It is here that they meet Thorbane, who was glad to see them, though he has seen no sign of Goblins. Shifty decides he has would better abscond himself from further battles that day in order that lady luck stay on his side, so he returns to the scene of their last camp and waits it out, watching for attacks from the south. They will call on him if they actually get into trouble, or otherwise when they come back up and are ready to begin cutting timber. He uses the time to whittle four bullets from the harder tissue of the slain boar’s tusks.
The four scouts head down into the cavern and find nothing of any value, but do espy a deep shaft that plummets down into the dark earth. After much rope-twisting and some considerable forethought on Drummonds part, as well as some tricky climbing, the four are able to reach the bottom. Experience is handed out at the end of another intense and rewarding session.

Catalunya Campaign
The Heroes of Calaf - La Fortesa

by Maxen » Sun Oct 17, 2010 9:37 pm

La Campaña de Catalunya

Una sesión de juego de rol único conjunto aquí en las montañas de la península Ibérica. Usted tontos no saben lo que es más allá de Blightey…

As the orange and salmon light spilled over the beautiful mountains of Monserrat in Catalunya, Hispania, the four figures sat drinking from mugs of dark ale in the Fairview Inn, Farez (near La Fortesa). The fire crackled in the corner, people milled about, talking aimlessly. As the three Hispanians and one dwarf chatted amongst themselves, the mayors emissary entered the inn, a well dressed Hispanian man of middle years. He explained to the Catalan crew that a number of dissappearances have been happening in the local area. Most notably Old Joe Strongfoot went missing a couple of days ago. His concubine – Jane Matahar – went looking for him then mysteriously was lost without trace. The mayor of Farez is offering 5,000 gold-pennies (half-crowns, G.P.) for the safe retrieval of the two missing persons (both Gnomes).

The group then described their appearance, how they looked to one another and a general outline of what they were about. First came Pep Prim (a.k.a.¨Slim¨). A dwarf from the Kazakh mountains, adorned in a red-robe with a blue trim. Pep was a newcomer to La Fortesa from a few years back, the latest member of the team. Sired by an uncaring, abusive father, Pep is more than a little quirky. Speaking with a lisp and not entierly sure of himself, he took a big chance escaping his turmulteous family-life, he went on the road. Landing in Monserrat, he found a place a court wizard among the nobilesse of La Fortesa. Although he is the only member belonging to a different religious order (Yurgain – the dwarvern gawd of magick, the others belong to the church of Luvia, the blind gawd) he is accepted into the fold with open arms, a welcome addition to the team. Not only a master magicker, but also a geologist, gen-cutter and alchemical expert.

Then came Gulfrey the Serene, a paladin of Luvia, the head of La Fortesa. He is dressed in a tailor-made suit of Plate-Mail armour, and is usually riding his warhorse Seraphim (a signature mount and a Wilder-Mare, see page 55, H.o.B. volume VII). The veritable Lord of La Fortesa and unquestionable leader of the group, Gulfrey is a man of fair countenance and lives by modest means. Of good-family and definatly a fellow of class and sophistication, this noble knight is usually the first to take the initiative and is almost always found on the front-line of danger. A brave and noble knight, Galfrey is the front-line fighter of the Catalan crew.

After that we come to Thomas of Notley, a priest of Luvia, a quiet, pious fellow with a cynical side. He is the preacher of the Catalan crew and deals with all matters divine and meta-physical. Zealously devoted to Luvia, the gawd of justice, he wears only his modest clerical robes and carries a magick-banner of Luvia, bearing the insignia of the religion, the scales of justice. Although he suffers from bouts of dark, cantakerous moods, Thomas is almost always the man behind the any plans the group makes. Intelligent, wise and almost always providing sage council, Thomas heals the sick and poor, bringing the faith of Luvia´s justice, to all who need it.

Last but by no means least, we have Orioll the ranger. Another Hispanian, the sheriff and custodian of the lands surrounding Monserrat. A calm, stoic fellow, blessed with a quiet way about him, this ranger-type dude was the voice of reason found within the royal court of Catalunya. He is has a trimmed beard and is usually well-dressed, although somewhat rugged-looking, he walks with the air of a king, and is sure-footed, to boot. His gait was that of a graceful cat-like movement, every inch the forestry expert of La Fortesa, Orioll is an experienced hunter and animal trainer. As straight as an arrow and as stong as the bow that fired it, this is one wiley character, a real card.

Alas, the emissary departed after leaving the Catalan crew to ponder their offer. As soon as the dandy passed through the door, another man entered. He was a tall man, angry looking and seemed to want credit at the bar. The server said that it was not possible. The tall man soon became angry, Osbert had quite a temper. At seeing the scene, Gulfrey and Orioll rose out of there seats to ask the man whatever was the matter. Osbert became even angrier, asking what business it was of theirs. Galfrey immediatly threw down the gauntlet, challenging the half-ogre to an honour duel. Orsbert Torqen neither accepted nor refused but then began taking off his armour, put down his shield and sheathed his sword. Galfrey wondered why his potential opponent was doing, as soon as the magickally disguised half-ogre realised that it was about to turn into a mortal challenge, he refused to fight the little knight. Leaving the bar after donning his armour once more saying, ¨This is not the last you will see of me, I can assure you.¨. Orioll and Galfrey went back to their drinks. After finishing up they went outside, only to witness the half-ogre Osbert storming down the street, his friends in tow (Saemus and Maud McFinnigan!). Then Galfrey drew his blade, utilising his ¨dispel hostile magick¨ ability. The McFinnigan posse soon realised t´was futile to attack such well-protected heroes, they slinked away into the shadows from whence they came. The encounter over as swiftly as it had began.

The Catalan crew found the mayor (who happened to be the innkeeper at the Fairview tavern), accepted the quest to find the whereabouts of the missing Gnomes, failing that, discovering what fate befell this missing couple. The group mounted up and set off at once, journeying north-east, towards a haunted crypt they had also been told of, not too far from La Fortesa. En route they encountered (and quickley avoided) 400 or so hostile blood-urchins. Upon reaching the adventure site, the crew set up camp, as it was becoming dark. The setting sun kissing the horizon. Orioll checked for traces of footprints and tracks of anyone passing nearby recently. This showed that the gnomes were taken into the center of a clearing within the Wishing Tree Woods. Old stones, turned over and covered in moss surrounded the clearing. The central tomb was where the impressions in the ground ended. Deciding to wait until morning, the group set up a watch rota.

(More to come very soon, I´m typing it up now, here in Barcelona)

by Maxen » Mon Oct 18, 2010 1:27 am
The Catalan Campaign (continued)

Following an uneventful night, Galfrey, Orioll, Pep and Thomas of Notley awoke to a clear bright and crisp autumn morning, ten miles north of La Fortesa. The yellow and orange array of leaves on the trees fell all about them, blanketing the forest floor with a thick, deep sheet of colourful vegetation. After some deliberation about how they were to gain access into the tomb, Thomas of Notley came up with the idea of attaching a rope to his wagon train of Oxen then have them pull the top of the sepultura off, using the oxens strength. Not only was this an inspired idea, but the magickal wardings protecting the entrance were triggered. A huge firey explosion went-off harming no-one but cinging a good ten or so feet off of Orioll´s silk rope. Pulling the blackened top-stone lid off of the sarcophagus, the four men peered down in to the darkness. Orioll (rather bravely) took the lead, being lowered down on a rope to assess the situation. Once down, he discovered a number of skeletal remains, also a narrown corridor leading from north to south. The others swiftly followed suit, as Orioll the Ranger began examining the tracks made by the people who dwell here. He discovered that the footsteps led from north to south, and that several types of impression were made. Some having only three toes, most unusal, and also some other human feet, bound in chains, led downwards into the cavern.

The south exit was covered in a sweaty secrition, a bone-like substance (see John Carpenter and Ridley Scott movies, namely Dark Star and also – without wanting to give the game away – the place designated as LV426). The north corridoor is much more defined, less natural, but made up of stainless-steel walls and sliding doors. Once Galfrey had donned his armour once more, the group began to investigate towards the north. Before they could hope to go anywhere though, a dozen Dimension Demons appeared, all carrying lazer-ray guns and leading a chain-gang of slaves from Farez. The group froze, then entered in to negociations. One of the Dimension Demons (Greys, aliens, straight out of SG-1, Perfect Dark or the classic Area-51 style grey, save taller, black and more nasty!). The parleying went reasonably well I suppose. Initially I was laying it on thick, adopting a ´District Nine´ style voice, lots of clicks and stuff. (Orioll praised me on this most excellent bit of roleplaying on my part, afterwards, when we were coming back from clubbing after the game weekend had finished. Coming from another DM this was good to hear.) I wish you people could have seen it. Anyhow. Diplomacy failed when Orioll said that the prisoners were to be released. The Dimension Demons tried to barter. The lives of hostages in exchange for the skeletal remains they (the Catalan crew) stood on but more importantly, Pep´s spell-book. Our team were (of course) having none of it. Galfrey waded in there, using his Karate-Kid Crane style to goad the enemy into attacking (like Garag, Galfrey has the combat arrogance quirk – he may not attack until he is attacked himself). The gagwallers obliged him by firing off a dozen ray guns at the paladin. {I was really spawny here getting no less than seven open-ended damage rolls, taking Galfrey down to but twenty hit-points, out of eighty odd.} Gulfrey even took a severity level seven critical hit to the buttocks!! Loosing him some Honour in the process. Orioll had a clear shot and fired two arrows into a Dimension Demon, messing him up proper style. The grey failed his threshold of pain check and was down, out for the count. Thomas used the staff of blinding to get the bad guys. Galfrey attacked with his sun-blade, he needed only a two or more. he rolled a one on a D20, a fumble! No!! His armour came loose (-1 to hit for the duration, effectively). Then Pep Prim Slim cast Monster Summoning. Four Slazteks appeared, then began to attack the greys, who returned fire with a volley of lazer beams. {then we stopped for the night. We started the session at midnight}

The next day {in the real world} meant we picked up where we left off. The gagwallers moved back provoking an attack of opportunity for Galfrey, abiding by his code of chivalry, Galfrey did not attack an enemy who´s back is facing him, so reserved his initative. Orioll wasn´t so kind, downing another baddy with his bow. Galfrey did however use his trip-attack ability on one then pinned him with a wrestling maneouver, Thomas cast Hold Person on one, Pep slammed into them with a fireball sidewinder factor II, being sure not to hit any party members, nor any of the N.P.C.´s they were here to save. Thomas moved up, and began looting the bodies. Two sliding doors shut at either side of the corridors. Orioll gave chase, prying the left hand side door open with this sword. Pep followed him. While doing so he used his alchemy skill to determine what kind of machine he and the ranger found in this chamber. The baddies were nowhere to be seen. They were confronted by a large circular contraption, with seven smaller circles inside it (I made it blatantly obvious this was a Star-Tr3k style teleporter). Galfrey and Thomas began tying up the gagwaller prisoners and the pair looted their bodies, recuperating ray-guns galore.

(I will finish the rest of the lengthy write up tommorow… Must go to crash now…)

by Maxen » Tue Oct 19, 2010 11:24 pm
Okay, firstly let me say I´m sorry I haven´t been quick in typing this up, and that I´m having to do so in peice-meal chunks, Barcelona is a very busy city. I have had lots to do (such as seeing the Gaudi master-peices and also meeting the cities fellow artists and musicians). I will get back on the flex as soon as I can, I just got back from my last night out in Barcelona, and have been treated extremely well by ´Galfrey´ just been out for a meal, got drunk and am ready to get chonged, I´ll update you all when I can be arsed. Max-out.

As the team descended the dark depths of the gagwaller research outpost, they could hear a commotion from up above. Silhoutted by the moonlight, the faces appeared, shouting taunts down at the Catalan crew. T’was Osbert, Maud and Saemus, who, after sobtaging Thomas’ cart and oxen, dissapeared from sight. Seraphim the Wilder-Mare made it away.

by Maxen » Sat Oct 23, 2010 7:40 pm
Orioll could hear the screams of the captured slaves, he ran to save them. This time his sword nearly broke, only just making it’s saving throw, trying and subsequently failing to pry the sliding door open. Pep tried the door and managed t force entry. Ahead lay two remaining Slaztek lizardmen summons, badly wounded and engaged with the aliens. The slaves were all within large test tubes, crying out for help. As Galfrey bound the held prisoner, Thomas noticed one of the aliens come-to, he quickley bound the near-mortally wounded and now heavily damaged enemy; then the pair shuffled the prisoners towards the chamber to the right, where Pep and Orioll were. As Pep ran in, Orioll began freeing the prisoners, by smashing the glass tubes. Strange fluids flooded the floor and weakened prisoners fell to the ground, the ranger adriotly caught each one after breaking their glass prison. Pep, Thomas and Galfrey beat the two remaining gagwallers into submission. In doing so Thomas planted his banner of Luvia, blinding all non-believers. Pep was the only one affected, he was now blinded, permenantly!! {Well, until they could find a temple and a Cure Blindness spell} Pep roleplayed this excellently, going along with his Compulsive Liar flaw saying, “Though I am now blinded, I can see the light! I see the light!”

After making sure all the evil-aliens were securely fastened, Orioll tended to the freed slaves in their malnurished condition, giving them some provisions from his store, meanwhile, Galfrey and Thomas set to searching the place. Tying a rope to the first locker-handle, the two priestly people stood well back. After a tense moment they braced themselves for a trap being sprung. Nothing happened. They found a gagwaller dictionary and razz-mag or two. Orioll wanted to scout on ahead, Thomas said “Let’s make sure we’ve searched everything first.”, the Ranger replied, “Nay, we must make haste lest more slaves meet a torturous fate.” Harsh words were exchanged. The differences of opinions ran deep. After calming down, Orioll the ranger went his way, Thomas kept searching the room, along with Galfrey. Pep tried to commune with his minute firefly familiar, to help him guide the magicker back out of the complex. The little light-bug was unable to do so, one of the freed slaves offered to aid the now-blind wizard out. Galfrey told a gagwaller hostage to step inside the remaining device. The alien did so. Lights flashed and the gagwaller came out most eloquent, speaking in an alien equivalent of the Queen’s English (well, gagwaller tongue). Galfrey boldley stepped in to the device, he came out being able to speak Dimension Demon.

The now liberated people of Farez needed to get out of this horrid place. This prompted the others to follow suit, making their way back down the corridor, the way they came. Orioll investigated the last room, seeing before him a living wall, horrendously experimented on. Their was nothing they could do to save him/her/them. The ranger returned to the shaft entrance, where a crowd of curious villagers stood atop the crypt opening, torches in hand, they called down to the crew, lowering a knotted rope. The Catalan crew decided not to ‘freak out’ the simpleton villagers and so hid the gagwallers from view. Helping the liberated slaves up the ladder, the crew dispursed the crowds gathering. Two stubborn, curious villagers wouldn’t leave but did so once the paladin and company asserted their authority.

Finally the Catalunyans chose to send extra-terrestrials back to their own place in space, the gagwaller homeworld. Thomas told the aliens (through Galfrey, using the dictionary in conjunction with his newly learned language skill, from time spent in the virtual training tube) that if they showed the humans how to activate the device, that they would be unharmed. The gagwallers complied. Galfrey told them never to return to this world, lest they be dealt with less-lieniently next time.

After sending the off-worlders back, the Catalan crew destroyed the teleportation device, after which they helped poor Pep up the ladder. Galfrey took off his armour and ascended. The company considered investigating the one tunnel they had not yet explored but decided against it, on the grounds that Pep needed healing, badley. Once they had all left the complex, Galfrey donned his armour once more, then whistled for Seraphim his Wilder-Mare, who came along with Orioll’s horse in-tow. As he re-dressed, the mayor of Farez gave the crew the bounty of 5,000 gold pennies (half-crowns, G.p.), thanking them for the safe return of thier townsfolk. (The Catalunyans gained twenty points of Fame for this, as well as a shed-load of Honour. Had we been playing path-looser or the like “Ca ne exsisté pas”) They returned to the town of Farez with no encounters along the way. Upon arrival the local blacksmith and cartwright had repaired the sabotaged ox-cart for Thomas of Notley.

The fairview tavern was in celebration, with a cross-dressing Rocky Horror style cabaret in full-swing. Galfrey joined-in with gusto, Orioll was his usual solitary self (playing in-character) anyway, Orioll left the Fairview tavern, Galfrey had some of the local ale, Pep returned from the temple via the market, which was just closing. He managed to find a man on a stall selling a variety of un-cut gemstones, purchasing a few semi-precious gems, and able to see again, he returned to the tavern and had a celebratory drink of strong dwarven ale with his companion, the paladin. This was as Thomas retiered early, after finishing his prayers. Galfrey downed his pint, followed it up with a second, this time opting for some of the stronger beverages on offer. Before long, he was up on stage singing “Frankenfurter! It’s all over!” etc. etc. Pep danced with glee at getting his eyesight back. He even converted to Luvia out of neccessity (lest he be blinded again). Orioll stopped by a crashed airship of a Gnome trader, hoping to pick up a few potions. On his way there he was approached by Count Rupert of Grand-Fenwick, Prime-Minister of the duchy. T’would seem that among the liberated prisoners, the prince and princess of Grand Fenwick were freed from certain death. Congratulating the ranger and his companions for saving the future regent(s) of the small country, handing the ranger a chest containing 500 gold-crowns (H.S.P.). Orioll swiftly cained all the cash he had been entrusted with, buying a number of potions of extra-healing. While there an emissary of the church arrived with a shed-load of petty cash, gifted to him by Galfrey the paladin and Thomas of Notley – their shares of the 5,000 G.p. With instructions to buy all of the Gnome inventor’s store of extra-healing potions. Orioll left afterwards, he wandered the woods and happened upon a wounded wolf. Taking care of the animal, the two became friends. Once healed up, the Wolfy – as he was now known – went hunting with him, bringing down a roe.

The next morning, they all awoke in the Fairview tavern. Downstairs over a breakfast of weiners (sausages) and jambon (Hispanic tapas – bacon & eggs), after the division of potions by Orioll, the Catalan crew were approached by a Hobbit named Waldo. He said that the road to his village of Kalif has recently been frought with danger, and that he required an armed escort to get there safley nowerdays. T’was widely reported that a certain Robber-Baron Karnor hath been upping the frequency of attacks on travelers travelling south, through the forest of rev, also called the wishing-tree woods. Waldo needs to make it in good time to his daughters wedding. He had no coin in-which to pay the Catalunyans but had an abundance of gemstones. The Catalan crew accepted. They departed at once.

by Maxen » Sat Oct 23, 2010 10:35 pm
Once away from the Fairview tavern, along the road, southward-bound … The final tid-bit to the Catalan crew sesh unfolded thus…

A pleasant day, the twittering of birds about Snuggleshire on this blazing Woad-monath* morning, a clear sky, near-no clouds in the sky…

  • Weed month

Ahead, flying in fast, above the tree-line, came the silloutes, shadowy figues of MARGOYLES (beefier variant of the Gargoyle), anyhow, Galfrey had a well-intenioned idea of using his rope and grappeling-hook, as it turned out, t’wasn’t the best idea. As Galfrey reserved his inititave, gaumless, feckless, the others took immediate action (after discerning they were hostile, naturally). Anyhow, Thomas of Notley stepped up casting Hold People, both the Margoyles failed their saves, becoming frozen in mid-air, motionless. Orioll took a couple of shots of with his magick longbow, his magick arrows hitting home, knocking one of the Margoyles for six (in cricket terms, needless to say, naturally. English-Gentlemen. Raather!) Where was I? Oh yes! Then Slim let loose by simulcasting a pair of Icy-Spheres, Finishing off one of the Margoyles, and wounding t’other. Galfrey kept the raised his Holy Avenger using his Rousing Speech skill by rallying poor Waldo, the NPC, who was looking nothing rather worried before at the sight of the magick Margoyles with which he had barley escaped once before. If it weren’t for the original underground home-grown crew. Anyway, Orioll consoled the NPC saying something akin to, “Don’t worry Waldo, we are here to protect you, fear not.” Then the ranger fired his bow at the last Margoyle taking it out. Then we argued over experince points, wen’t down the pub, and knocked it on the head from there. Here endeth the session.

The Heroes of Calaf

Character: Pem Prim “Slim” ; Culture: Dwarf; Gender: Male; Alignment: Chaotic-Good;

Occupation: Battle-Mage War-Wizard; Level: 9; Title: Spell-Sword; Current Exp.: 208,002; Exp.for Next Lv.: 275,000;

Age: 77 yrs; Height: 4’3"; Weight: 143 lbs; Hair: Red; Eyes: Black; Handedness: Ambidextrous;

Social Class: Lower-Upper Class; Patron Deity: Yurgain; Homeland: Khazak Mountain Kingdom; Adfilate Homeland: La ciutat de oro;

Hit Points: 60 (Hit-Dice Type: d4, CON.bonus: + 3); Armour Class: 5;

STRength 13 (80%); DEXterity 16 (53%); CONstitution 16 (89%);

INTelligence 16 (93%); WISdom 11 (39%); CHArisma 10 (18%);

BEAuty: 12 (94%); HONour: 81 (d12); FAME 40 {Well-Known throughout Ibia};

Quirks: Sound Sleeper, Hates Blood-Mages, Compulsive Liar, and Lisp.

Talents & Special Abilities: Blind-Fighting (pg.337 PHB), Blind-Casting (pg.54 Wizards’ Book), Touched by Yurgain (pg.340 PHB), Close to the Earth (pg.338 PHB); Simul-Casting, Spell-Jacking (x2), Spell-Prepping; Infravision (60’), + 4 saving throw bonus vs.poison; Birthright Abilities: Poison Sense (minor) & Travelling (Great)
Detection Abilities: Grade or slope in passage (5 or less on a d6), new tunnel or passage construction (5/d6), sliding and shifting walls or rooms (4/d6), stonework traps, pitfalls, and deadfalls (3/d6), approximate depth underground (3/d6);

Skills [Note: Page numbers are all referenced to the PHB unless stated otherwise]

(Languages) Modern: Common/Anglyn/Hobbit 100% (d10) pg.317; Dwarven/Gnomish/Undercommon 100%; Species LV426/Dimension-Demon/Gagwaller 27%, Hispanian Street-Slang 33%; Ancient/Dead (Language) Sabir 56% (d6) pg.317;

General: Skilled Liar 89% (d6) pg.327, Stealthy Movement 42% (d6) pg.331, Slip Away into Shadows 61% (d6) pg.330, Survival-Underground 81% (d4) pg.331, Riding-Land Based [Dwarven War Horse] 40% (d8) pg.328, Gem Cutting 27% (d4) pg.325, Map Sense 65% (d6) pg.327, Mapless Travel 40% (d8) pg.327;

Academic: Customs & Etiquette {Dwarven} 61% (d8) pg.315, Customs & Etiquette {Hispanian} 30%, Culinary Arts 76% (d10) pg.314, Appraising 57% (d8) pg.314, Appraisal-GemStones 68% (d6) pg.314, Alchemy 48% (d6) pg.313;

Arcane: Spellcraft 46% (d4) pg.313, Arcane Lore 79% (d6) pg.313; Social: Resist Persuasion 29% (d8) pg.335;

Weapon Proficiencies: Axes, Short Swords & Slings; Weapons Permitted (by Adventuring-Occupation i.e. Battlemage): Any Axes, Swords, Daggers, Slings & Staves;

Possessions: Leather Armour + 2, Bracers of Defence {A.C. 8}; Ring of Protection + 1; Sling + 1, (38) Bullets + 1; also another + 1 item (I can’t make it out from the blurry photo), 60 sceattæ (G.p. gold-pennies ), (many more items unaccounted for, due to lack of images), including: a toga, soft shoes, a knife, and a purse.

{All page numbers are referring to the P.H.B. unless stated otherwise.}
‘The Demarica’ (Standard Spell-Book) Containing 32 cantrips[/i]: Cover made of monster-hide, Vellum pages;
Spell-Book Size: 18″ × 12″; Weight: 6½ lbs (Encumberance mod.: x 4); Thickness: 6"
Pages: 64 in the Demarica (6 blank remaining);

‘The Grevan Grimoire’ (Standard Spell-Book, Leather Cover, Vellum pages)
Size: 17″ × 12″; Weight: 6 lbs (Enc. mod: x 4); Thick.: 6 "
Pages: 72 (40 blank remaining)including the following spells known to Pep:
Level I: Read Magick (p.184), Write Magick (p.186), Befriend (p.176), Shocking Grasp (p.185) & Erase (p.179) and Magick Shield (p.182);
Level II: Power Word: Detect (p.114 Wizards’ Book S.S.G.), Cloud of Pummeling Fists (Lv.II, p.188), Fireball: Sidewinder Factor II (p.190), and Heat-Seeking Fists of Thunder (p.191)
Level III: Pre-emptive Strike (p204), Protection from Missiles (p.205), and Monster Summon’ I (p.203)
Level IV: Stone Skin (p.216)
Level V: Mana’s Mindsight (p.108 – Wizards’ Book S.S.G.)

The Number of Spells Pep can Memorize and cast (without Spell-Jacking) per day:
Level I (6 per day), Lv.II (3 per day), Lv.III (3/day), Lv.IV (2/day) & Lv.V (1/day);
Spell-Jack Multiplier: x 2 (twice the amount of spells per day, % simul-cast mishap chance)

Saving Throws. vs.Paralyzation & Death (Magick): 12, vs.Poison: 8; vs.Rods, Staves & Wands: 8; vs.Petrification, Frenzy, Blood-lust, & Polymorph: 11; vs.Breath Weapon: 13; Apology: 13; vs.Spells: 9;

Family History: First-born in an upper-class dwarven family, Pep is one of ten siblings. His parents were abusive, Slim is quirky as a result.

Background: Pem Prim (a.k.a. “Slim”) the dwarven battle-mage; he believes in the dwarven earth deity: yurgain, who is also the dwarven god of honour and magick (a.k.a. the bearded mage). Pep of Martell clan was born in sacred city “La ciutat de oro” in the deep caves under mount Montserrat. The whole mountain has the shape of a big hand of Y. (the god of dwarves, it’s mentioned in the rules, I am trying to download the manual of gods). The city was built in the ancient times as a sanctuary of Yurgan but during lots of decades around the main city several mines were discovered, the most riches are Salnitre caves. a flourishing commerce in these metals and minerals led to a great wellness of the city, and the sanctuary was surrounded by new settlements. In this great city Pep was so small… and slim! everybody was laughing at him as he was trying to use hammers or transporting blocks of minerals. As he could not work as a miner he was chosen as a sentinel to watch the caves and advise in case of attacks of big insects or other creatures from the deeper levels. These attacks were so uncommon that Pep was simply walking around, studying the shape of the rocks and the secrets of the mountain. One day during the celebration of yurgain, all of the dwarves were drinking ale in the city. Unseen a group of orcs entered the caves looking for fresh food (flesh) and gold! After defeating some guards they began to march toward the city! hidden in a small corridor Pep saw them! “I will show my brothers what kind of dwarf I am!” said Pep to himself. And when the orcs entered the main cave to get to the sanctuary Pep used his knowledge of the caves and he was very lucky! he inadvertently stirred an explosive rockfall trap using salnitre residues and the caverns came crashing down on the orcs! what a victory! when other dwarves came to see it was everything clear, the orcs under the rocks and “Slim” Pep sitting on them. Slim Pep alone stood against an entire score of orcs in one fowl swoop! He saved the celebrations and the sacred city of Yurgain. That day Yurgain saw him and touched him! as a prize for his braveness his strength became as the average of his race! and the most important gift of them all: magics!
Pep the slim grow up as a battlemage, he fought hand to hand with dwarven warriors and the humans against the army of the evil enemies, who did once attack from the eastern mountains; emerging victorious, Pep was honoured. Recently he ended up in la Forteza, where a small group of dwarves is in charges of protecting the caravans of salnitre coming from Montjuic.

Character: Orioll; Culture: Human (Ibian); Gender: Male; Alignment: Chaotic-Good;

Occupation: Forest Ranger; Level: 8; Title: (Fully-fledged) Ranger; Current Exp.: 208,350; Exp.for Next Lv.: 225,000;

Age: 25 yrs; Height: 5’ 10" (1.75 m); Weight: (86 kg); Hair: Black; Eyes: Green; Handedness: Right;

Social Class: Middle Class; Patron Deity: Luvia; Homeland: La Forialesa;

Hit Points: 118 (Hit-Dice Type: d10, CON.bonus: + 2); Armour Class: 1;

STRength 17 (87%); DEXterity 18 (16%); CONstitution 15 (53%);

INTelligence 13 (76%); WISdom 14 (93%); CHArisma 14 (79%);

BEAuty: 13 (28%); HONour: 81 (d10+1); FAME 49 {Well-Known throughout Ibia};

Quirks: Maimed, Hates Half-Ogres, Hates Illusionists, Clingy (towards Thomas of Notley) and Sleep-walker.

Talents & Special Abilities: Two-Weapon Fighting (Ranger-style), Tunnel Fighting (1 to hit while fighting in tunnels), Species Enemy: Ogres (4 to hit), Hide in Shadows (49% base), Move Silently (62% base), Tracking-bonus (already applied), Animal Empathy; Opportunist, Keen Sight and Sixth Sense; Birthright Abilities: Iron Will (minor) & Animal Affinity (Great) Reynir, Wolves.

Skills [Note: Page numbers are all referenced to the PHB unless stated otherwise]

(Languages) Modern: Common/Anglyn/Hobbit 100% (d10) pg.317; Glersee {Trail Marker Language} 18% (d6) pg.317; Ancient/Dead (Language) Druidic 21% (d6) pg.317;

General: Gaming/Gambling 17% (d6) pg.325, Tracking 63% (d4) pg.332, Forage for food {in Forested areas} 51% (d6) pg.325, Identifty Animal by Tracks 57% (d6) pg.326, Hunting 64% (d6) pg.326, Stealthy Movement 55% (d6) pg.331, Slip Away into Shadows 49% (d6) pg.330, Fire Building 59% (d6) pg.324, Riding – Land Based 74& (d8) pg.328, Mapless Travel 57% (d8) pg.327, Animal Handling 62% (d10) pg.321, Animal Training 61% (d10) pg.321, Rope Use 55% (d8) pg.329, and Track Game Animal 23% (d6) pg.332;

Academic: Forestry 68% (d6) pg.315, Animal Lore 59% (d6) pg.313, Religion: General 50% (d12) pg.316, Religion: Nature-Spirit 28% (d8) pg.316 and Spirit Lore 25% (d8) pg.54 of the Wizards’ Book (S.S.G.);

Arcane: Spellcraft 50% (d4) pg.313, Arcane Lore 50% (d6) pg.313, Divine Lore 27% (d6) pg.313;

Weapon Proficiencies: Longbows {Expertise}, Long Swords {Expertise}, Short Swords, & Spears;

Possessions: Leather Armour + 3, Ring of Protection + 1; Longbow + 1, (20) Sheaf Arrows + 1; Silver-sword (Long), Studded Leather + 1, Amulet (Unidentified); 150 Sceattæ (G.p. gold-pennies ), 200 Groats/Farthings (C.p.), 200 Crowns (H.S.P.), 25 Sovereigns (P.P.), 2 Ojet d’Art (Unidentified) Brooch & Bracelet; Cloak of (Drow) Elvenkind (perishes if exposed to sunlight, otherwise as normal Cloak of Elvenkind, just at -20% effectiveness), Magick Potions: Healing, Extra-Healing, Neutralize Poison, Heroism, Grunge-Elf Kind, Cure Blindness; Druid Spell-Component Pouch, Wizard Spell-Component Pouch, Waterskin, Rope, Hunters Knife, Tinderbox, String, Dice & Cards, Fruit & Veg (for Animals), Chalk, Candle, Bedroll, Iron-Rations, Lantern, Oilskin (full), Bandages, Clean Clothes, Repair Kit, Trap Kit (snares), Booze, Tea, Spices, Oil (for weapon), Sickle, Grooming Stuff, Hide (Tarpaulin), Horsefeed, Silk Rope, Saw, Axe and lastly a Cage (left back at Castillo).

Druidic Magick Spells: Animal Friend, Bless, Bloom, Ceremony, Cure Minor Injury, Entangle, Færie Fire, Fog Vision, Invisible to Animals, Know Direction, Locate Animals & Plants, Log of Everburning, Pass Without Trace, Precipitation, Predict Weather, Purify Water, Shillelagh, Strength of Stone, and Wind Column;
Druid Detection Spells – Detect: Balance, Magick, Poison, Snares & Pits;

‘The Legmarden’ (Spell-Book): Cover made of Leather, standard issue, Vellum pages;
Spell-Book Size: 14″ × 12″; Weight: 6 lbs (Encumberance mod.: x 3); Thickness: 7"
Pages: 84 in the Legmarden (59 blank pages remaining), which contain the following cantrips, spells already known to Orioll: Blink, Giggle, Indian Burn, Dim, Feign Toughness, Nod, Creak, Noogie, Weak Bladder, Gnats, Dry, Scratch, Mouse, Coloured Lights, Colour, Dust, Wet Willie, Spider, Firefinger, Poker Face, Noise, Freshen, Rainbow, Tie/Untie, and Exude Fear;

Orioll also possesses the following Level I Wizard-Spell Scrolls (all cast at 1st Level): Read Magick, Write Magick, Protection from Sneezes, Chill Touch, Fluttersoft, and Magick-Stone {Note: these spells have not yet been written into the Legmarden, they are each housed by a leather scroll-case}

Animal Companions: Leia {Female} and Lycan {Male} Wolves (See page 91-2 of H.o.B. VII for details)

The Number of Druidic-Spells Orioll can Memorize and cast per day: Level I (1 per day);
The Number of Wizard-Spells Orioll can Memorize and cast per day: Cantrips (2 per day);

Saving Throws. vs.Paralyzation, Poison & Death (Magick): 10; vs.Rods, Staves & Wands: 12; vs.Petrification, Frenzy, Blood-lust, & Polymorph: 11; vs.Breath Weapon: 12; Apology: 15; vs.Spells: 13;

Family History: Orioll’s folks were petty officials, he is 2nd born, and of four siblings.

Character: Thomas of Notley; Culture: Human (Ibian); Gender: Male; Alignment: Lawful-Good;

Occupation: High-Priest (Zealot); Level: 8; Title: Preacher; Current Exp.: 188,784; Exp.for Next Lv.: 255,000;

Age: 31 yrs; Height: 5’ 3"; Weight: 174 lbs; Hair: None, Bald; Eyes: Blue; Handedness: Right;

Social Class: Upper Class; Patron Deity: Luvia; Homeland: La Fortez;

Hit Points: 103 (Hit-Dice Type: d8, CON.bonus: + 3, H.P.bonus Talent: + 1); Armour Class: -2;

STRength 16 (66%); DEXterity 7 (41%); CONstitution 16 (99%);

INTelligence 15 (38%); WISdom 17 (28%); CHArisma 13 (77%);

BEAuty: 16 (61%); HONour: 66 (d10); FAME 38 {Well-known locally};

Quirks: Truthful, Low Tolerance to Alcohol, Braggard, and Nagging Conscience;

Talents & Special Abilities: Sixth Sense, Opportunist, Divine Shield, Hit Point Bonus (already applied), Prophecy, Second Sight; Turn Undead, Guardian Angel, Fascinate, Incite-Rage, Soothing Word, (Priest) Spell-Casting, Spell-Jacking; Birthright Abilities: Enhanced Senses (major) Bascion, Sunray & also Touch of Decay (Great)

Skills [Note: Page numbers are all referenced to the PHB unless stated otherwise]

Languages, Modern: Common/Anglyn/Hobbit 100% (d10) pg.317, Species LV426/Dimension-Demon/Gagwaller 22%, Elfæ/Elven/Fæ 25%, and Catalunya Slang/Ibian Colloquial Dialect 33%;
Social Interaction: Rules of Fair Play 56% (d6) pg.335, Rousing Speech 54% (d6) pg.316, Poker Face 70% (d6) pg.,334 and Oration 49% (d4) pg.334;

Academic: Religion: General 71% (d12) pg.316, Religion: Luvia 66% (d8) pg.316 and Spirit Lore 22% (d8) pg.54 of Wizard’Book, S.S.G.), Ancient History (Hispania) 57% (d12) p.313; Arcane: Divine Lore 54% (d6) p.313;

Combat: Attitude Adjustment 63% (d8) p.319;
Weapon Proficiencies: Slings, Maces, Clubs and Staves;
Luvias Favoured Weapons: Mace or Club; Weapon Restictions by Adveturing Occupation (High-Priest): Any Blunt Weapons;

Spell-Spheres: Devotional (Lv.VI), Charm (Lv.III), Divination (Lv.VII), Healing (Lv.II), Sun (Lv.II), and Warding (Lv.V);
The Number of Priest-Spells Thomas can memorize and cast per day: Level I (7 per day), Lv.II (5/day), Lv.III (4/day), and Lv.IV (2/day);

Level I Priest Magick Spells: Indulgence, Remove Headache, Predict Weather, Befriend, Locate Animals & Plants, Ceremony, Conmbine, Fog Vision, Cure Light Wounds, Diagnose Injury, Endure Cold & Heat, Know Direction, Light, Purify Food & Drink, Remove Fear, Repair Strain & Sprain, andSanctuary;
Level I Detection (Priest) Spells, Detect: Snares & Pits, Poison, Evil, Balance, and Magick;
Level II Priest Magick Spells: Charm Person, Enthrall, Hold Person, Rigor Mortis, Augery, Detect Charm, Find Traps, Know Alignment, Reflecting Pool, Undetectable Alignment, Undetectable Charm, Cure Colour Blindness, Cure Moderate Wounds, Mend Tendon, Heal Light Wounds, Slow Poison, Stop Bleeding, Mend Limb, Barkskin, Resist Cold & Heat, Silence 15’ radius, Withdraw, Wyvern Watch, Resist Electricity, andResist Gas;
Level III Priest Magick Spells: Emotion Control, Hold People, Stirring Sermon, Locate Object, Obscure Object, Speak to the Dead, Dispel Magick, Glyph of Warding, Magickal Vestments, Negative Plane Protection, Protection from Fire, Remove Curse, Remove Paralysis, Resist Acid & Caustic, andWard off Evil;
Level IV Priest Magick Spells: Free Action, Imbue with Spell-Ability, No Fear, Rigor Mortis 10’ radius, Babble, Detect Lie, Divination, Tongues, Repel Insects, Spell Immunity, and the following spells, Protection from: Lightning, Lycanthropes, Possession, Undead;

Saving Throws. vs.Paralyzation & Death (Magick): 4, vs.Posion: 7; vs.Rods, Staves & Wands: 8; vs.Petrification & Polymorph: 7, vs.Frenzy & Blood-lust: 10; vs.Breath Weapon: 10; Apology: 11; vs.Spells: 9;

Possessions: Plate Mail + 1, Full-Body (Tower) Shield (with the scales symbol of Luvia on); Sling of Smiting + 3, (20) Bullets + 2, Mace + 1, Club + 1, Electrum Water Basin, Healing Potion (10 doses), Wooden Bowl & Cutlery, Flint/Tinder, Flask of Oil, Normal Lamp, 1 oz of Hobbit Pipeweed (Muggles), 1 oz of Elven-Stardust, Robes, Vestments, Cowl (Hoodie), Cuaisse, Greaves, Padded Clothing, Tabard emblazond with the scales of Justice, Alter to Luvia inside Temple Holding, Spell ingredient pouch and Holy Symbol (Scales Pendant) 349 Sceattæ (G.p. gold-pennies ), 82 Groats/Farthings (C.p.), 33 Crowns (H.S.P.), 35 Sovereigns (P.P.);

The Faithful: Initas Apprento (Lv. V Cleric) First beginnings of a following. Initas looks after the flock (congregation) while Thomas is away adventuring. He is the fist of many followers to come.

Family History: First-Born into a Lower-Upper-Class family of Wizards. Thomas has three siblings, and a hereditary grudge towards the ‘Staunch Clan’.

Character: Guifré Pel “El Sere”; Culture: Human (Ibian); Gender: Male; Alignment: Lawful-Good;

Occupation: Paladin; Level: 8; Title: Justicar; Current Exp.: 255,082; Exp.for Next Lv.: 350,000;

Age: 29 yrs; Height: 6’ 2"; Weight: 171 lbs; Hair: Blonde; Eyes: Blue-Grey; Handedness: Right;

Social Class: Upper Class; Patron Deity: Luvia; Homeland: La Fortez;

Hit Points: 96 (Hit-Dice Type: d10, CON.bonus: + 2); Armour Class: – 3;

STRength 17 (53%); DEXterity 14 (86%); CONstitution 15 (23%);

INTelligence 12 (19%); WISdom 17 (6%); CHArisma 18 (9%);

BEAuty: 11 (71%); HONour: 74 (d10+1); FAME 49 {Renowned};

Quirks: Combat Arrogance (must – or should – attack after being damaged by any potential foe), and Dehydration (acquired during training, boot-camp, a long forced march in high-heat causes Guifré to be at minus 1 to all dice rolls when dehydrated or without water for any prolonged length of time.)

Talents & Special Abilities: Grace Under Pressure, Exp.Bonus, Legacy, + 2 to all saving throws (already applied), Detect Evil, Aura of Protection, Lay on Hands (Heals 16 H.P. once per day), and Spell-Abilities (Abjuration, Divination, and Necro.)

Skills [Note: Page numbers are all referenced to the PHB unless stated otherwise]

Languages, Modern: Common/Anglyn/Hobbit 100% (d10) pg.317, Species LV426/Dimension-Demon/Gagwaller 58%, Elfæ/Elven/Fæ 43%, and Catalunya Slang/Ibian Colloquial Dialect 45%;
Social Interaction: Graceful Entrance or Exit 64% (d6) pg.334, Social Etiquette 67% (d6) pg.335, Rousing Speech 58% (d6) pg.335, Resist Persuasion 94% (d8) pg.335, and Threatning Gesture 58% (d8) pg.335;

General: First Aid Skill Suite 60% (d6) pg.324, Healing 52% (d4) pg.325, Culinary Arts 54% (d10) pg.314, Cooking 63% (d12) pg.323, Riding – Land Based 50% (d8) pg.328, Mapless Travel 61% (d8) pg.327, Rope Use 45% (d8) pg.329, and Fishing 55% (d10) pg.324;

Academic: Heraldry 56% (d6) pg.316, Religion: General 67% (d12) pg.316, Religion: Luvia 22% (d8) pg.316 and Spirit Lore 26% (d8) pg.54 of Wizard’Book, S.S.G.), and Reading/Writing (Ibian) 49% (d6) pg.328; Arcane: Divine Lore 27% (d6) pg.313;

Combat: Angolo Battlecry 77% (d6) pg.319, Eye of the Tiger Advantage 60% (d6) pg.319, Trip Attack 50% (d8) pg.52 [Warrior’Bk C.G.], Disarm 68% (d8) pg.50 [Warrior’Bk C.G.], Pugilism 66% (d6) pg.320, and Karate-Kid Crane Mr.Miagi Maneouvre[/i] 40% (d4) pg.319;
Weapon Proficiencies: Crossbows {Expertise}, and Long Swords {Expertise};

The Number of Priest-Spells Guifré can memorize and cast per day: Level I (1 per day);
Clerical-Schools of Magick known to Guifré: Abjuration, Divination, and Necromantic;
Priest Magick Spells: Awaken, Cure Light Wounds, Detect Evil, Detect Magick, Diagnose Injury, Know Direction, Protection from Evil, Purify Food & Drink, Remove Fear, Sanctuary, and Walking Corpse;

Saving Throws. vs.Paralyzation, Poison & Death (Magick): 8; vs.Rods, Staves & Wands: 10; vs.Petrification, Frenzy, Blood-lust, & Polymorph: 9; vs.Breath Weapon: 10; Apology: 13; vs.Spells: 11;

Possessions: Half Plate Mail + 1, Regular Shield (emblazoned with the Fortez family crest (the Byrns Clan), mixed with the Lynt heraldric symbol); ‘Sunblade’ Longsword + 2 (+ 4 vs.Undead& Extra-planar creatures), Crossbow + 1, (40 Bolts + 1, Dagger of Hindsight + 4; Magick Potions: Healing {Ten Doses}, Never-Empty Flask of Holy Healing; 325 Sceattæ (G.p. gold-pennies ), 82 Groats/Farthings (C.p.), 33 Crowns (H.S.P.), 20 Sovereigns (P.P.); (20) Gems (Unidentified); Grappling Hook, 50’ Silk-Rope, Iron-Rations, Rice, Large Saddle-Bags, Cooking and Fishing Equipment.

Signature Mount: Seraphim (Wildermare) been with Guifré for years now, the faithful Shirkmare Seraphim (H.o.B. V, p.115)

Faithful Squire: “The Green Man” (Lv. IV Knight) First beginnings of a following. Sir Verthane arrived early to Guifré’s banner, bring with him scholars, minstrels, and more valiant fighting-men, rallying to the banner of Byrns, La Fortesa.

Note: I am aware that the standard rules don’t grant Paladins spell-casting abilities until 9th Level, but, seeing as I am easy-going about ALignment shift and Honour penalties (in the cleric and paladin ‘force alignment audit’ and ‘trial’ abilities are effectively taken from the paladin, I decided to give him spell-powers a level early. It’s not the end of the world.

Family History: Hailing from a family in good-honour, Guifé’s folks were married when he was born, however, Guifré was abandoned, orphaned. Fortunately he discovered a new-found family, adfilate-adoption, that of the family Forez, Foriesa – Kalaf. His adopted step-parents were of high social status, but could not concieve a child, hence why they sought, then found, an orphan-boy of blue-chip stock, good breeding. The Lynt-Byrns Union was born. Guifré attended the Elite Royal Military Academy of Wyvern-Barracks, the West-County. While there, he suffered a long forced march, in extreme heat, as a result, he acquired the dehydration quirk (see above). Guifré’s foster parents at Fortez have retraced Guifré’s ancestry while he was away at military-school. Seemingly he is the second-to-last born of the Byrns Clan family dynasty, one of four siblings, he has a legitimate claim for both the Lynt-line nation of La Fortesa, and the Byrns-family dynasty – though he is fifth in line for that, not first, as in Fortez, Byrns.

Underground Home-Grown Crew II
Second year Snuggle-Nook Campaign (2010)

by Maxen » Wed Jun 09, 2010 10:43 pm
Garag waded into the foray with a hard-hitting attack, his short-sword slashing and piercing wildly yet finding it’s mark, taking chunks out of the tree-men. As they exchanged blows, a thorny branch struck Garag Tog, sending him into a wild-eyed frenzy! Berenger flew down and cast his Touch of Death spell, provoking another attack of opportunity, this time however the little flying Hobbit sucked it up and manged to keep focus. His touch hit, the gnarled old oak failed his Trauma Damage Check (Threshold of Pain, see page 101 of the Warriors Book, this over-rules the PHB and GMG ruling, we only just found this out). So the tiny Hobbit toppled the mighty oak in one foul swoop! He chalked one up to experience and moved on.

Meanwhile Keera the second let loose another Sleep spell, this time sending one of the trees into a deep dream. The others advanced, surrounding the underground home-grown crew in a myriad of flailing branches and thorny roots. Garag was hit numerous times but seemed oblivious to the pain, fighting through and taking yet another slice out of the angry plant-people. Although the wild-eyed frothing-at-the-mouth berserker couldn’t see it, our healer could. Knowing full well the Battle-Bane’s infamous reputation Berenger decided to risk it anyway. The daring Hobbit prepared a Heal spell before flying down to help his comrade in arms. Garag didn’t take too kindly to being healed (failing his intelligence check while frenzied, thus not recognising his friend). Berenger’s cage wasn’t in the least bit rattled as the chances were he wasn’t going to hit his friend, what with all his magickal armour and full-body shield the Hobbit was wearing (his effective armour class is minus five, their was only a ten percent chance that Garag would tag him, the Berserker needed a nineteen or more on a twenty sided dice to catch his fellow crew-member). Garag unfortunately rolled a twenty! A severity level twelve critical hit to his shoulder! Ouch!! Berenger (of course) was deader than justice for the common man, on a harsh minus seven hit-points (one point beneath his constitution score, so he effectively had only two rounds, a dozen seconds, to live before he bled to death! As you may tell we use -CON score rather than -10, it’s fairer).

The Algoids and magickally animated tree-folk engulfed the beleaguered adventurers, although Berenger had bought the farm, Garag fought like a lion, trading blows with the Ents. Keera waded into the melee, and in an attempt to save her dying friend, put her only healing potion to his lips. She rolled snake-eyes! Disaster! At the very least the Hobbit was stabilised and no longer bleeding to death, however her comrade was still unconscious. Garag and Keera II took a whole bunch of blows, even though several of the plant-men fumbled, one had a lucky critical on our Gnome-Titan fighter, taking a slice off his arm. Nasty.

Keera rummaged through Berenger’s back-pack and took out his last healing potion, nursing the little guy back to health. Berenger came around. Meanwhile, Garag continued to wade into the score of bad-guys attacking the trio. He hit again, caining the tree-man some. Keera took a succession of bad hits, knocking her close to death. She dived into Berenger’s Bag of Holding and the Hobbit activated his Anklets of Levitation, narrowly avoiding death once again. As he floated to safety Garag ‘came down’ off of his Berserker rage, didn’t lapse into unconsciousness and kept on sticking in there, taking the full brunt of the force against them.

Keera was healed by Berenger, who debated whether to go down and help his friend who now had six tree-men around him and a bunch more closing in. Garag looked like he was in a bad way when he was struck by another stray thorny branch once more. Though seemingly a bad thing, it was actually benificial as he was sent into another Berserker rage! Going mEnTaL he sliced up tree like it was Christmas turkey. Though unaware of how badly wounded he was, Berenger dived down bravely once again in an attempt to heal the Gnome-Titan. Once more the Berserker failed his intelligence check (which is not hard for him) but luckily didn’t hit when he took a swipe at his saviour.

Now fully restored but war-weary, the trio fought back to back against the horde of tree-men. Berenger took a few pretty nasty hits taking him down to only a handful of hit-points. Keera attacked, after deliberating whether or not to seek refuge in the Bag of Holding again. She scored a lucky hit, and took a shed of damage in retaliation. Garag – as usual – stuck in there like the warrior he is. Putting another one of the rowan down. Berenger also smacked another with a Cause Wounds, putting an oak in his place, amidst the forest loam and marshy ground from whence he grew. This caused a morale check, which the Algoids failed, and began to take flight.

This session took six hours and we only resolved the one encounter (admittedly we spent an hour creating a new character, Keera II). It was hit-or-miss the whole way through and I am not doing the write up justice as many more fumbles and criticals were scored of which I did not take note of at the time. Anyhow, it ended up with Berenger being put under deaths shroud once more, and if it wasn’t for a kindly passing lizard-man shaman (randomly rolled on an encounter table) he would have bought the farm for sure.

by Maxen » Sat Jun 12, 2010 5:15 pm
Grift-Meister’s Campaign Log, strange happenings (See Pan-Dimensional Rover entry & the jackson document)

Venturing further into Blackweed swamp brings perils of it’s own. After being patched up by a kindly lizardman shaman, Berenger notices the payment for such an extensive healing was inadvertently expensive. Before being placed under the scalpel the lizardman Priest placed all of Berenger’s unnecessary garb and jewellery in to his Bag of Holding. While there, a phantom Pan-Dimensional Rover struck and spirited away Berenger’s Anklets of Levitation! As is their way, the plane-shifter left an object of equivalent value in it’s place. A Ring of Quick Escapes.

Now stuck on the ground and having to brave the wrath of his comrade in arms, Garag Tog the Battle-Bane Berserker; the duo enter deeper into the Blackweed marshes in an attempt to unravel the mystery surrounding the statue of tefnut, stolen from the fishing village of Chala…

Grift-Meister’s Campaign Log (XV) Session on Wodensday 16th of June, 2010 A.D.

Written on Thorsday the 17th of June, at ½ past midnight. The day after Ry-ry’s funeral.

After loosing his ability to fly, the badly battered Berenger headed back into the town of Chala to buy some tools to repair his Armour, and to commission the building of a device in order to start a fire. Becoming lost in the wilderness, he found himself getting further and further away from the swamp. Eventually the little Hobbit walked into a forested area, and stumbled across a Hobbit settlement in a remote glade within the woodland. A local merchant (called Ræk) in the town (named Thurston) asked the adventurer to help find the whereabouts of his son, who was lost, wandering in the woods, without a trace. The hide-tanner also explained another that had recently disappeared. A half-elven dancing girl, vanished without a trace, at around the same time as his son. Another oddity that passed recently was the mutilation of cattle. Berenger asked to see the farmer and mutilated corpses of the livestock. Ræk obliged him, the two met the rancher who’s cattle had fallen prey to the mutilators. The cows had indeed been eaten, their vital organs eaten and blood-drained.

With a generous sum offered for safe return of Ræks son, Ferdinand. Berenger set off without further ado. Ræk Hidetanner pointed out where the boy Ferdinand was last seen before his disappearance. A clearing in the woods. Heading back to the Thurston town, the Hobbit merchant-man left Berenger to his daunting task, alone.

After searching some time, Berenger discovered a hastily concealed pair of steel-doors, in amongst some bushes. By it was a strange device, and above was a sentence written in a strange foreign language. The Hobbit knocked on the door. No answer. Studying the symbols he managed to discern that the lettering above the doors contained some similar characters found on the device to the side of them.

Then his keen Hobbit senses became aware of approaching footsteps. Using his Slip Away into Shadows skill, Berenger successfully hid himself beneath a bush. The intruders didn’t hear him either. A half-a-dozen or so black figures, some six-feet tall and with oval shaped heads (Aliens a.k.a. Dimension Demons) came into view. One of them began reading the symbols above the door and tapped out a combination on the strange device (’puter keyboard). Hoping to dash in after them, the door closed just as he came from his hiding place.

Scratching his head, the little guy didn’t know what to do. He tried the door with his dagger, which shocked for a cute seven points of damage. He healed himself with his Staff of Curing immediately. (In the tutorship of Conan this was an un-wise move, using a perishable magick item is not preferable to using a spell memorized). On nearly-failed intelligence check later, and Berenger figured out that if he were to tap the symbols above the door into the input-device, that something may happen. It did. The doors slid open (with a Star-Trek sound) to give way to a large chamber. A red button on the far side of the room glowed ominously. Taking care to stand well-back from it, the hobbit tapped it with his quarterstaff. The room shuddered and began descending at a rate. Opening out into a room surrounded with large equipment, desks and mirrors. A surprised Dimension Demon went for a bizarre looking wand. Before it could get a chance, Berenger cast Hold Person on her. Tying her up with silk rope, seventy-two seconds later (twelve rounds) the she-alien began to call for her brethren. Berenger pointed the ‘wand’ at her which soon shut her up.

Venturing through the north-door, Berenger found himself in a long steel corridor with five more doors, two pairs facing each other on the left and right of the corridor, and another lone doorway at the end. He tried the first door on the left. (Another Star-Trek sound). It led to a chamber filled with different shaped tubes. They each had one of the control devices (’puter keyboards) at their feet. Trying the first tube, Berenger placed a set of gnomish inventors tools inside it before he began pressing buttons. The machine failed to fire-up, and an organic matter symbol flashed on the device.

As if on cue, the lady-alien in the last room began calling for help again. Berenger went in there and simply coshed the woman-grey, knocking her unconscious. Dragging her into the tube, he began tapping buttons again. This time the machine started, casting light all about the place. The place was filled with an eerie blue light while the mysterious machine started. When it’s cycle had finished, the grey fell out, but was transformed into a man-grey. He came too rather bemused.

Shoving his prisoner into the next test-tube to see what it did, Berenger began tapping away on the keys again. This time it was a yellowish light that spilled out about the place as the tube-device began. The little grey fell out and immediately said, “I say! What a marvellous game, you really should try it old bean!”, in rather spiffing common language (Anglyn). The now male alien had learned elocution in a mere matter of minutes, thanks to this, training tube.

Binding his prisoner to a post and instructing him to start the cycle once he was inside the tube, lest the alien eat laser. He did so, accordingly. Berenger’s mind was flooded with information by the brain-wave enhancer. He came out of the machine knowing about Dimension Demon customs and etiquette. Our protagonist tried it again, and again, ending up with the following skills: Alien language, Botany, Alien culture, First-aid (bonus), Survival skill suite, Surgery tools and [/i]Engineering[/i]. Luckily no other Dimension Demons came along while he was doing so.

Now fluent in Gagwaller, Berenger asked his androgynous prisoner about the last two tubes. He/she replied that the third one is a cryogenic sleep chamber and the fourth, a disintegration tube. Leaving his prisoner tied-up, the preacher-man of yondall’ started down the corridor again, trying the door on the opposite side.

This room was white with the scent of ammonia on the air. A large trolley-bed with metallic straps and belts sat in the center of the room. From the center of the ceiling hung a wicked looking assortment of scalpels and other unfamiliar medical equipment. Other alien apperatus lined the walls and twelve blood-splattered laboratory coats hung on the wall.

Berenger discovered a small green cube hidden against the wall. Not knowing what it did, he moved on. The Hobbit found two taps on the wall, under which a sign which read the word “Hormones”, in Gagwaller, naturally. After a little experimentation, he found that the dark-blue tap spewed forth a liquid which would either reconfigure the gender of a female or give a male recipient a temporary strength bonus. The mauve tap did the same for a male (gender-bender), but granted a temporary bonus to a females Beauty score. Bored now of the dissection room, Berenger moved on down the corridor and tried another door up ahead.

As he entered the room, Berenger could see several cells with glowing fields of transparent energy sealing them off lined the back wall. Each cell had a control panel next to the entrance, and there was a lever on the far wall. One of the cells contained a half-elven girl wearing torn breeches and a badly stretch and ripped silk jacket, that was much too small for her. Another contained a Hobbit-lad wearing robes that were way too big. He was also wearing an over-large corset and panty-hose. The other cages were filled with various animals.

The two pleaded to be released. Berenger obliged them. They then asked if he knew a way to turn them back into their original bodies. “I know just the place.”, replied the Hobbit preacher-man. Turning back down the corridor. With his prisoner still tied up, Berenger demanded that the Gagwaller turned them back to their own form using the shape-shifting device. The Dimension-Demon refused but said their was a manual (alien dictionary) back in the living-quarters. Annoyed, Berenger rightly said in Gagwaller, “Look here, mate. I don’t want to go back to where your mates are. You will turn my friends back to their original forms, or you’ll be going in the disintegration tube over there.”. He wasn’t bluffing. The she-male alien did as (s)he was bade. In moments the two were returned to their native states.

Ferdinand said, “Quick, let’s get out of here! Which way is it? We were both unconscious when we were brought here.”. Not yet finished his exploring, Berenger said, “This way, follow me.” leading the two down further corridor, after tying up the rather confused she-male alien prisoner, of course.

The stench of something horrid assaulted the trio’s nostrils even before they entered the last door leading off to the sides of the corridor. A fetid odour of unwholesome things roiled from the room in a thick miasma of rotting decay. Strange meowing and scratching sounds could be heard from within.

Upon inspection, they saw a sight so repulsive that Alyssa the half-elf began blowing chunks. Neither Ferdinand nor Berenger bubbled (puked). What they saw however was a mutilated and twisted mixture of bodies. Humanoid and animal alike, which twisted and thrashed behind an energy field. Tentacles and tongues sprouted from misshapen heads and eyes which lolled from their sockets, as a wave of mutated flesh rolled as a mass. There was no definite individual within the coiled sinew, but more a single entity that manifested various singular traits. A malformed head gurgled through a pus and slime dripping tongue two words made poignant by the atrocity of it’s situation saying, “Kiiiiilllll Meeeeee!”. Berenger switched off the energy field briefly before giving the thing a mercy killing. Levelling his laser at it, he put the thing out of it’s misery.

Done with the rooms either side of the stainless steel corridor, getting to the last door at the end. Opening the door to the final chamber revealed a large circular pad decorated with glowing symbols, that took up the center of the room. Flashing lights winked from various consoles around the room, and five bright globes illuminated the area. The control panel seemed far more complicated than before, yet the activation button was obvious.

Berenger placed a set of gnomish inventors tools on the circular pad then hit the activation button. They disappeared in a flash of light. It seemed as though the trio had come to a dead end. Berenger discerned after a while that this was a teleportation device to the Gagwaller home-world. Leaving the place alone, they headed back down the corridor from whence they came.

Up ahead of them came five tall alien figures approaching them in the distance, laser-guns trained on the trio. One of them Berenger recognised as the trans-gender prior prisoner he had taken. Fortunately the aliens were surprised and our hero wasn’t. He let loose a beam from his Gagwaller ‘wand’, searing one of them in a bad way. Then he threw a quarterstaff to the hobbit boy, and his Hammer Mijolneer to Alyssa the ½-Elf. The group closed in, knowing that through that group of aliens was the only way out of the complex. The Gagwallers returned fire on the greater threat, five scorching beams of incandescent light spewed forth from their laser-guns. Only one clipped Berenger, burning him pretty bad. The other two (hobbit-lad and ½-elf woman) moved further down the corridor, closing the distance between the two groups.

Berenger tried another shot rolling a one, disaster! He shot himself in the foot (as a result of rolling on the D1000 fumble table). The aliens put down another volley, striking both hobbit-lad and ½-elf, damaging them seriously, with Ferdinand being taken down to only a single hit-point! Another alien levelled his laser at Berenger, he too fumbled, his laser-gun was now rendered broken, useless. The other two fired. One rolled a critical-hit on Berenger! Luckily it worked out to be less than a severity-level zero so had no additional effects. The last alien to fire fumbled and was flat-footed for the next round.

Alyssa threw the hammer, which missed and then returned to her hand magickally. Ferdinand also missed. Alyssa was struck and went down (failing her threshold of pain check). Seeing imminent disaster, Berenger prepared a Touch of Death spell in hand-to-hand combat. The attack of opportunity was a hit, smacking the little guy down to only a few hit points. Touching his comrades and triggering the Ring of Quick Escapes meant the three teleported the hell out of there. The teleportation was not without error, however they didn’t end up inside a tree or some such.

Heading back to the village of Thurston, Ferdinands father was overjoyed to see his son alive and well. Ferdinand made good on his promise, Ræk offering a 20% share from the profits of his tanning business. That and a straight lump sum of gold (about a grand I think). Alyssa also wrote out some scrolls for Berenger, though being a priest, he couldn’t use them. The ½-elven wizardess gave him: Bash Door, Ralph’s Placid Arrow, Minor Sphere of Perturbation and Imaginary Friend.

(This adventure was the ‘Gagwaller Research Outpost’ by Solomon Fæborn, Hack-Journal #4, page 13)

This was a solo session, as attendance has been pretty bleak recently. We need more players as everyone else apart from Berenger seems to be too busy.

Some people I roleplayed with before (we were in a band together) have asked me to G.M.a game in Spain, he’ll pay for the flight as I am to be a guest G.M.of Honour. It is a real Honour, even if it means brushing up on my Spanish some. I’ll write that whole session up.

Saturnsday the 19th of June, 2010 A.D.

Okay, so the latest news-flash is that all bets are off. Conan was (understandably) put-out that I couldn’t make it to the solstice, seeing as he’d taken time off work. He’ll probably get over it. He’s not the only one I let down, Garag was supposed to accompany me. Then I was planning on seeing a certain Senorita in the south. It’s a crying shame. So, disappointment all-round from the Max-Meister, especially seeing as I had a gig tomorrow, after which we were supposed to roleplay. Not to worry. I’ll just have to see about getting some time off my new job, though that doesn’t look likely, at least not any time soon. Even so, we will be getting some roleplaying in as soon as we all have some free-time again.

G.M.’s Campaign Log XIII, Moonday the 12th of July, in the year of our Lord 2010 Anno Dominii
Written by Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon at midnight

The Second Solo Sesh’

Heading home to the Dingy Pirate States, a series of islands found in the West of Snuggle Nook; Berenger the Priest of Yondal’ rounded up his crew (some two score peoples, mainly fellow hobbits and the congregation from his Temple leased there. They manned out the Sweet Mary III, their rather large Cog with three sails (main-sail, genoa & gib), Mary III was some 120’ long, was manned by all the congregation N.P.C.’s but also by two new henchmen, Meldor the Battle-Mage (apprentice to Kroon) and the more familier Kryleena.

They set out southward on their journey, white sails dipping as Mary III cut through the waves with relative ease. Seeing a number of half-a-thousand deadly flying fish, also some giant sea-horses and other sea-creatures that regarded them with indifference, all went by past in the weeks that followed. The Sweet Mary Jane the Third dropped anchor in the port of Malar on the remote and plauge stricken Island of Byrona. This sleepy town was nestled between a secret snow-covered pirate-cove. Icicles hung down like frozen fingers in hap-hazard jagged rows along every roof and walkway. A thick layer of freshly fallen snow carpeted the small sea-port, some foot thick. Entering the Tallfeather Tavern, the nineteen crew-men and three heroes walked into the bar.

The minstrel went quite, a moment of silence as a small sea of faces regarded the group with all too apparent suspicion; that was before quitely talking, murmuring and sharing dark murky mugs of strong drink. Once at the bar, Berenger asked for a pint of Gut-Bruiser, the bartender charged him a crown (the going rate being only a half-crown). The frown on the hobbit was evident before the barman poured him a Finch-Yager chaser, on the rocks with a twist, on the house to boot.

The locals were at the end of the bar and watched the newcomers out of the corner of their eyes whilst keeping a low conversation. Berenger downed the pint only just making his alcohol resistance check, the little hobbit kept it down, earning him four points of temporal honour and an increased social reaction modifier with the locals. The gruff crowd praised the priest for being a man, urging him to finish his Amber-Brew chaser-shot of Finch-Yager shouting, “Down it! Down it! Down it!”. All the while stamping their feet and slamming their tankards against the bar in-time with the chant. Once again the hobbit did well, keeping the drink down. Wiping the excess liquid from his mouth, Berenger offered the bard another drink.

In the corner some rough looking types talked and drank near to a large treasure-chest which seems to the present subject of their banter. Another group of strangers sat in the opposite corner near the door through which they came in. See the photo here: (Tavern-map here

By now a score of little hobbits stood on barstools and on one anothers shoulders in order to be served while Berenger offered to buy the bard a glass of whatever he wanted. The orpheus accepted then began to recount the two centuries or so of history that belonged to the very public-house they were stood in. The Tallfeather Tavern. “T’was said to have been called the Grey-Badger some one-hundred years ago, but originally the Tallfeather was named The Goblinn. The Tallfeather Tavern was rumoured to have once been the best building in the here village of Malar; that was before a fire struck the place. The inferno consumed the coaching-houses owner and daughter, who legend says her spirit still walks these halls at night in ghostly, ethereal form,singing a sad ballad…”, the musician paused for breath, that and a sip of real-ale, letting out a loud belch before continuing, Orpheus spake thus, “The blackened stone of the south wall is part of the original building, but the rest is newly renovated. Anyway, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I must take my leave of you for I must set-to, play a tune or two for my vices.”. He took his place sat down near the fireplace and playing on his Buitar (which coincidentally is known as a Ganjo).

After draining his tankard completely, sparking up his pipe with adroit swiftness, savouring the hobbit pipe-weed a mere moment; before bursting in to song, singing an upbeat, hazy resonating riff on his Guit-banjo. The lyrics spake that Malar is a tired little village that has done nothing but collect the farmers from the hills to work in the mills. Draughted, disgruntled, weary people. With the men gone to work in the mills, mines and industries of the towns outside of the shire, the wives and women-folk were subsequently persecued by the corrupt legal institutions; accused of witch-craft. Accordingly, should the woman weigh the same as a duck, then she’s made of wood, then they are to be burned. Peoples weight has been included in the annual cencus, and thus common knowledge. However, if she somehow didn’t weigh the same as a duck, the accused is to be dunked in water, drowned. Anyway.

(Log re-started some month, in real time, after the event, my memory is hazy on the details. However, I’ll do my best to keep it accurate).

The bard regailed him with other tales of the locality before the doors to the Tallfeather tavern suddenly burst open. Some stalwart looking fellows entered with a cold gust of wind, that seemed to match their mood. Pointing accusingly at the men in the corner, the head dwarf spoke, “You have stolen goods about you in that chest in the corner there. That is ill-gotten gains belonging to me, Thorynn Oakstaff and the Grogny clan. Hand them over and once, then come with us, lest you suffer the wrath of dwarven law!”. To which the accused replied, “Do your worst! Finders keepers!”.

Berenger tried to appeal for calm saying, “Gentleman! Gentleman!”. However, t’was to no avail as a bar-room ensued rapidly thereafter. Bar stools were wrapped around heads, tankards flew every which way and Berenger entered into the melee fighting both sides at once. (As it’s been a few weeks, I’m sketchy on the specifics). I remember Berenger scoring a critical. The dwarves drew arms. Berenger then used spells, Cause Whatever. The fight ended with the dwarves capturing the accused. Our hobbit protagonist appealed for calm. The dwarves mercilessly executed the prisoners (woe betide anyone standing between a dwarf and his gold!). Berenger waded in again then Kryleena, Kroon and Berenger hammered the Grogny clan members for their ruthless execution. We’ve another session going on tomorrow. I’ll (of course) keep y’all posted. Stay on the flex! Max-out, for the now.

HOME-GROWN CREW: Pixie-Kin Brew. (One off experiment due to a change of heart, confionce)

Moonday the 2nd of August, in the year of our Lord, 2010 Anno Domini. Midnight.

Campaign Log written by Maxen the Saxon; Grift-Meister: Garag ‘Hannibal’ Tog.

On the slopes of a mountainside, a weeks walking distance away from the capital-city: Croatoor, four motley travellers relaxed in amidst the grassy banks of Fernwickle Isle. They had met at a festival where much revelry and merriment was to be had. Joining together, the four men chilled out in the sunshine, watching butterflies flit from flower to flower, nursing a shocking hangover and smoking perhaps too much.

First their came Saemus O’Finnigan Junior, a lot like his old-man, a renegade sorcerer (technically a Wild-Mage/Rogue or ‘Theif’). Hobo-looking, unkempt and grubby, the little leprechaun was the un-loved offspring of the legend that was Saemus senior. A band-geek during college, and an adept student, expert with barbed darts as weapons, Seamus Jr. was the sneaky so-and-so of the crew. Chaotic-Neutral, spell-slinger and rogue.

Secondly their was Iorran, a faerie Battle-Mage. (Previously Berenger) Little was known about this man save that his spell-list is more offensive than most, and that he is proficient with both slings & staves. A misguided man, near-sighted and wearing green robes. Also Chaotic-Neutral.

(I’m doing this purely from memory, I don’t have the character sheets to hand; not to worry!)

Next came yours-truly, Anorpheus (‘Norph for short). A priest (zealot) of oberon, the pixie gawd of magick. A little sprite that worked in an urban-ghetto soup kitchen, helping the poor and needy. He was transformed by a vision, ’Norph “Saw gawd” whilst sober (thus negating his ’little-faith’ quirk!). Basically my character rocks-ass, being able to use most priest spells and any magick-user spell scrolls he finds (until I buy a spell-book, then I can use wizard spells by sacrificing two slots of cleric spells). I’m Lawful-Neutral just like my gawd. Here is my character:

Alignment: Lawful-Neutral; Class: Lower-Upper; Age: 23; Gender: ♂; Height: 1’ 8”; Weight: 25 lbs;
Hit-Points: 13; Hit Dice Type: D2+2; To Hit Bonus: -2; Damage Bonus: -4; Social Reaction Adjustment: 0;
Eyes: Violet; Skin: Pale; Handedness: Right-Handed; Fame: 0;

STR: 5 (79%); DEX: 14 (72%); CON: 12 (35%); INT: 18 (25%); WIS: 18 (39%); CHA: 7 (73%); BEA: 12 (75%);
Honour: 14; Honour Dice: D1; Armour Class: 6 (Brigandine);

Quirks: Hearing Impaired, Self-Absorbed (Thinks he’s the messiah), Animosity towards Fuzzy Honey Bees, Glutton, Intrusive, Bald, Truthful & Nincompoop (Jerk);

Weapons Permitted (by Religion): Bloodthorn Weapons (Quarterstaff, Club & Stilletto), Knife & Dagger + Any Bludgeoning Weapons;
Weapon Proficiencies: Quarterstaff, Sling;

See page 15 Pixie-Fae Handbook for details of sprite natural abilities. (Including flying, going invisible, telepathy, never surprised and spell-abilites!)
Aerial Acrobatics (Grants 4 to AC in non-bulky Armour), Faerie Kind Martial Arts (2 to hit and damage in melee), Quarterstaff proficiency, Magic Bonus (Grants a +1 bonus to saving throws against magick), Hit Point Bonus, Exp. Bonus, Concentration, Counter-Spell, Curse Resistance, Eagle Eye, Precision Casting, Quick Casting, Second Sight, Reading & Writing, Arcane Lore, Alchemy, Astrology, Religeon (General), Spellcraft, Religeon (Oberon), First-Aid Skill Suite, Tumbling, Juggling, Play Stringed Instruments, Poetry Writing, Comprehension and Interpretation, Singing;

Spell Spheres: Devotion (2), Divination (6), Elemental – Fire (7), Necromancy (6), Summoning (7), Sun (3) & Warding (7);

Items and Treasure of note: Pixie-Fae Beret, Bag of ‘Not so’ Hefty Capacity (50lbs), Two Pixie-Purses containing: 24 Gold pieces, 24 Silver pieces & 23 Electrum pieces; A Bloodthorn Quarterstaff, a sling, some common robes, a vial of holy water & finally a golden holy-symbol of Oberon: a sewing needle.

Experience Points: (Approximately about) 1,300; Exp. Req. to advance to next level (Acolyte): 2,201.

Notable events: Saw gawd when sober (which negated the ‘little faith’ quirk). Anorpheus worked in an urban ghetto, a soup kitchen; he helped the poor and the desperate. He has a knack for lateral thinking.
Birthday (7th day of Yurn’Sa: Pin’Mar)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! The final member of our motely crew was another leprechaun. An artificier known as Xavien. A merchant, a trader and manufacturer of curios. The newcomer was welcomed and accepted into the group. Despite the fact he had a whopping disadvantage of not being able to cast spells that directly effect living things. Harsh! Comes with the territory, being an Artificier (a.k.a. ‘Itemist’).

The group made their way northwards to the capital. Initially following a river (as no-one had the skill ‘mapless travel’), before Iorran had the idea of flying up high to see where the meandering body of water flowed. From his new vantage poiny he discerned that it would have led the three astray because it turned back on itself, running southwards. With this new-found knowledge, the three of them continued on a bearing heading (flying) north-east, directly towards Croatoor. T’was a clear sunny morning and the three could see the spiralling towers and mass of buildings in the hazy distance.

T’was not the only thing they could see. Four tiny figures flying straight towards them appeared on the horizon. The two groups closed, upon further inspection, the four could see that it was a small troupe of wizards, all pixie-faeries and sprites. “Ho their fellow travellers!”, exclaimed the head-wizard in the group in greetings. “Well met!”, ‘Norph replied. The pixie-wizards they had met were offering to sell magick-items to the crew. ’Norph said in the butterfly language to Xavien, “Shall we…relieve them of their goods?”. After some deliberation, ’Norph asked if he could interest them in a sling and bam! A silver bullet went straight for the lead wizard’s head. He earned an alignment infraction point towards the dark-side for that! A ruck ensued. A volley of magick-missiles spewed forth from the pixie-fae wizards, slamming into our group. We returned fire with magick-stones and darts. Some of which found their targets, doing only pitifully small amounts of damage. Iorran moved in for the kill, weilding his quarterstaff. Wham! A severity-level fourteen critical hit to the shoulder meant he took one down! First blood to the home-grown crew! The little pixie-wizard fell four-hundred feet towards the earth, unconcious, the little pixie sank slowly into the mire.

Saemus let-rip with some more darts, as did ‘Norph, both found their targets but did only tiny amounts of damage again, having little effect. The pixie’s returned fire, slamming into Iorran and Xavien. ’Norph quickley risked an attack of opportunity to heal Iorran. He kept his concentration, finishing the incantation then healing the Battle-Mage. Meanwhile, Iorran tore into another one, messing him right up with another beating from his quarterstaff! They returned fire again, bolts of greeny-blue incandescent energy slammed into the home-grown boys. Shaking it off, Iorran sucked it up; as did Xavien. The one wizard attacking Iorran sweded him, knocking him back down to about six hit-points or so.

Retribution came swiftly as Xavien lobbed another missile at the now enemy wizards, his aim was true, he struck the fae-magicker knocking him down another peg or two. ’Norph cast another healing spell on Iorran, provoking another attack of opportunity, the priest of oberon (yours truly!) healed his buddy in good time; meanwhile Iorran kept in there, this time felling his opponent. Another one bites the dust, as they say, falling several hundred feet only to sink in to the swamp. Saemus Jr. lobbed another barbed dart at the nearest hostile wizard, interrupting his spell. The last active pixie-fae wizard launched another magick-missile, this time taking a chunk out of ’Norph. (Aaargh! I was down to only six hit-points by now!) Fresh round and ’norph prepared another healing spell, Iorran swiftly (and actually quite bravely) rushed in to attack another Pixie-wizard. Bolts of energy flew all around and one hit Xavien. ’Norph healed him using his last Cure Light Wounds spell. Sucking it up, ’Norph returned to the foray, drawing his Bloodthorn-Staff. Saemus kept putting down fire, a fumble, disaster! Luckily the result on the D1000* table was only that the barbed dart was damaged. He discarded it, drawing another. * Which, coincidentally is absent in lesser versions of D&D, namely path-looser and W.o.W. sorry, fourth edition!

The remaining wizards fled, rather wisely. (Though I was baffled as to why they must make an INTelligence check and not the more appropriate morale check. Tensions were running high at this time and Hannibal doesn’t like people questioning his authority so I, rather diplomatically, kept shtum. I’ll pick him up on it next session.) ’Norph fumbled his attack of opportunity, the resulting D1000 table indicated that he dropped his Bloodthorn-Staff; he flew down quickley to retreive it. The others put some fire down and Iorran made his attack of opportunity; even so, the remaining two wizards made it away clean, being able to fly faster than everyone else in the group (except Iorran and ’Norph).

So, the group flew down. Notes were passed, Saemus Jr. (true to form) tried to serrupticiously steal all the treasure, like the theif he is. ‘Norph was nearest, and pointing out that in Hack-Master theirs a rule: if the player managed to take the adversary down single-handedly, then he is entitled to all the spoils. Fair is fair, so ’Norph the lawful-neutral priest took all the items he could (which Hannibal ruled was none as the pixie was so-far sunken into the swamp) and would’ve handed them directly over to Iorran.

The home-grown crew swiftly formulated a plan to use Saemus Juniors 150’ of silk rope to pull the corpses out of the mire after throwing the rope over a large tree-branch. Xavien tried to use his Cloak of the Manta Ray but Hannibal ruled he couldn’t because the water was too thick. Hmmm. Anyway, ‘Norph attached the rope to the bodies, Saemus Jr. the tree, everyone helped pull them up. Though the treasure was rightfully his, Iorran divided the loot equally. Very generous indeed. Among the loot was a couple of scrolls, some Lv4 Ice-spell and a Lv5 Fireball type spell (I think, as I said, I’m writing this purely from memory). Also two more Bags of Holding, and two more pixie-pouches. Some 22 G.p. each, 24 S.p. each & 23 Electrum each.

’Norph had ran out of healing spells and asked if anybody wanted to make use of his First-Aid skills. Hannibal advised that he was more likely to do more harm than good, to which the priest said to the big face in the sky (the Grift-Meister), “Tosh! Hogwash! Look!”, then proceeding to sew his own wounds, did himself a point of damage. Coughing non-chalantly and trying not to seem in pain, Anorpheus sucked it up. The others refused his healing.

Pressing on to investigate the caves that the pixie-fae mages had spoke of (that I realise I neglected to mention beforehand, I was just itching to write up the fight, and my opening shot with the sling was pretty kewl I have to admit. I should have had the element of surprise, but was denyed it on the basis that sprites can’t be surprised. However I am playing a sprite as well so that should have negated it. Anyhow, hindsight is fruitless, and Hannibal will learn eventually. He did really well actually, considering it was his first session as Grift-Meister). ’Norph cast Create Water as the others went to look for food.

So, bypassing Croatoor, heading due north and looking for caves with magickal treasure inside, the four came across a hobbit village. They could see a bard, ’Norph tossed him a coin. The fellow orpheus asked him what he would like him to play. ’Norph replied, “Why a song, of course!”. The musician stranger said, “But what song?”, “Any song. Just sing us a song lad! Whatever you feel like.” then he threw another coin down. The bard finally struck up his flute. He was very average.

So, the home-grown crew began to busk as well. Saemus began playing his bagpipes, ’Norph joined in on his sea-sick steve style lute he had fashioned out of old bits of wood, he also began singing. Xavien cast illusions, they all used their Dancing Lights abilities. They had only two hobbit spectators. Iorran successfully seduced a passing wench, who threw down coin. A dozen or more spectators joined in, throwing down more money.

Then they all went to the only tavern in town, aptly named “The horses arse”. (Dave, don’t shoot the messenger here and ban me again, I didn’t make up this name but Hannibal did. I’m just documenting the session as accuratley as possible.) Iorran tried to seduce the barmaid but this time failed miserably, she gave a ‘tsk!’ then seemingly accidentally slopped some ale on his sleeve as she passed. Saemus looked for another leprechaun and found one (only a 5% chance of doing so, but made it!). Xavien kindly bought the stranger-kin a drink. ’Norph went off to do his laundry, then get a good nights sleep. Iorran poisned ’Norph with strong drink in his fresh-water as he was not partaking in the nights merriement, getting drunk. Iorran, Xavien and Saemus were all well wasted. Iorran went looking for a mediaeval fantasy traffic cone to wear, but instead found only a pair of frilly knickers. Deciding it would be a good idea to adorn his head with the garment, he wandered round hiccuping and shouting the occasional slurred phrase.

Saemus had stashed the bodies in his Bag of (not-so) Hefty Capacity and decided to poison the towns water supply with one of the dead pixies. Xavien heard the splosh and raised the alarm. The hobbit guardsmen arrived on the scene and began questioning Xavien. Saemus was long-gone and still invisible. Then Iorran turned up with the womens underwear on his head, blubbering on about this and that, very drunk indeed. The guards asked Xavien, “Is he with you?”, to which the crestfallen leprechaun said, “I’m afraid so…”. It didn’t look great in the eyes of the law, however, Xavien was entitled to a reward. The cops offered him drink. Xavien refused, asking for coin and was given a token sum.

The next day, ’Norph memorised all healing spells and healed the crew. Then all four were immediately pulled in for questioning. It was a pretty harsh grilling. As ’Norph was nowhere to be seen he was heavily under suspecion. The hobbit watch-sergeant asked him, “Where were you last night?”. The priest told him, “Up the horses arse!”, he also mentioned that he was a man of the cloth and rightfully explained that he was (perhaps) the only upstanding, lawful citizen among the crew. Not only that but he has sworn an oath to only speak the truth. It was touch-and-go for a moment, but ’Norph made it away clean. The others were given a savage interrogation and only through some quickly thought up alabies did they escape the long arm of the law.

Iorran chalked up two kills and was awarded the M.V.P. award (Most Valuable Player), he levelled up to second level Battle-Mage. Stay on the flex! Max-out.

Okay, so I accidentally pasted-in two of the same log here. This means we’re possibly missing one. I will go home now and re-read the blog entierly then paste any peices I’ve missed. Not only that, but I’ve actually had another sesh’ with a different group since then. Though t’was only a one-off, I have some notes still and will paste it up here on the site as soon as I can. Until then, Max-out.

Well, here’s the first instalment of the one-off session, enjoy! (More coming soon).

G.M.‘s Campaign Log (One off try-out sesh’)


Written and run by Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon

This session was nestled neatly between the last two session of Snuggle-Nook. Another group, from way yonder over the hill, in these ‘ere parts. These veteran roleplayers adopted the various guises of past players in the exsisting campaign, namely the exiled Hannibal’s Silchas Anasurimbor (will eventually retrieve the real character names!), Conan’s G.I. Joe (Gragnor Strongfoot) & Jane, with finally, Keera Hemlock II (now the third).

Breakdown of equivalent characters: In order of leadership eligibility (i.e. Credibility – see top of the thread for details)
Joseph Ironhand: Gragnor Strongfoot. Level 3 gaerdal-titan (gnome) Warrior (Soldier).

Jane Matahar: this player adopted the same name. She’s known throughout as Jane Junior. Level 3/3 muti-classed
Rogue-Preistess (cleric/thief) of Baravar Cloakshadow, the gnomish gawd of deception.

Silchas Anasurimbor: [Forgotten name used, will fill it out a.s.a.p] Level 3 wood-elven Druid

Keera Hemlock the third: [Forgotten name used, will fill it out a.s.a.p] Level 2 black-elf (drow) Battlemage

So, a motely crew of would-be adventurers (each only about level three) journeyed along the road to Indigo, a town in the next shire. Along the way the four travellers happened upon a farmer who told them (rather conviniently) of a nearby adventure site, he also warned them about the place being heavily guarded, but that a good yield of treasure may be found there. In a typically-broad west-county accent the gruff yeoman said, “Juz go up ‘ere ’bout ’aalf a miohl or so, an ’ere zis big sign, Io caan’t readz it but me lad tells me it sez summink loike: ‘Low level adventure this way’, painted gailey in zem broight coluurz. ‘Ee ’az uh big arrer pointin’ up this trail lioke.” The new-crew thanked them for his advise and proceeded to the area in question.

(Grift-Meister’s note: I didn’t have anything planned for this session so recycled a pre-fab’; also, I wasn’t on-form what with the clinical camera’d-up environment, not being able to smoke, nor drink. Well, at least that’s my excuse for not being 100% that day)

They found the place without too much trouble (a hug day-glow green sign with an arrow pointing up the path a way kinda helped!). Gragnor Strongfoot, true to his name, readied himself (and his rather strong-foot) to bust down the door; that was until Jane-Junior found a key under a welcome mat. Stopping her side-kick from side-kicking the front-door down, she tried the key in the lock, surely it worked. (Incase you hadn’t guessed, it’s Caskayton re-visited). The mp3 recordings, oops, sorry, magick-mouths started their warnings. Soon enough the four new-comers found themselves in the (now desered) room of the failed-quest. Splattered (and now year-old) corpses of a hapless adventuring party who met a grizzly fate. Stepping past them and the mp3 magick-mouths, they found nearly nothing on the bodies then started down the T-junction, west, along the left-hand path.

After a sucession of G.M.-rolled checks, and some find/remove traps rolls from Jane Jr. meant the pit-trap with falling boulder trap they were all about to enter was disarmed. Lowering Gragnor down on a rope, he discovered water at the bottom of the pit. Enclosed within a natural cavern, their were four doors housing corridoors that lead in opposite directions. Lowering everyone down (after attaching the rope to the boulder) the new four found a maze of smoke and mirrors, blatantly designed to confuse would-be treasure hunters, not unlike themselves.

Going back up and out of the pit, back down and round the corridor, the crew took the eastern turning in the T-junction splatter room. It curved around, the crew took the first left (again, heading in easterly direction) and happened upon the first of many doors, leading off down the two passages in site. It lead to a trophy-room where the wizard was unable to identify one of two magick-sword he had found. One was a just a regular broad-sword +1, whereas ‘Silchas’ sucessfully identified the other as a cursed broadsword -2. (Which, coincidentally didn’t impair him too much, as although it was stuck in his right hand, being an elf: he’s ambidexterous, so it was only potential spell-faliure, and subsequent wild-surge D1000 table to worry about. Well, that and trying to text. Ooops, back to reality. Or is that fantasy? ’Tis sooo blurred.)

They ransacked the place for anything of value, found little, then explored another room on the opposite side of the corridor. It was an old museum. After taking anything semi-precious or of-value, the crew heard a ghostly “wooooOoOOOOOOOoooo” coming from down the corridor. It was a nest of half-a-dozen Ghasts!

[pasted in later on]
Junior Veterans group (Part II) – one off session (written and run by Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon)

Breakdown of equivalent characters: In order of leadership eligibility (i.e. Credibility – see top of the thread for details)
Joseph Ironhand: Gragnor Strongfoot. Level 3 gaerdal-titan (gnome) Warrior (Soldier).
‘Silchas Anasurimbor’: [Forgotten name used, will fill it out a.s.a.p] Level 3 wood-elven Druid
Jane Matahar: this player adopted the same name. She’s known throughout as Jane Junior. Level 3/3 muti-classed gnome Rogue-Preistess (cleric/thief) of Baravar Cloakshadow, the gnomish gawd of deception.
‘Keera Hemlock’ the third: [Forgotten name used, will fill it out a.s.a.p] Level 2 black-elven (drow) Battlemage

The Ghasts closed-in fast, neither group was surprised, the undead beings attacked immediately. As the living-dead shambled through the doorway of the museum, Keera let-rip with a magick-missile, hurting one. The main fighter (Gragnor) missed with this attack, then was paralysed with the retaliatory strike. Keera was also downed by the first wave of attackers. Savage. Then Silchas did his duty, waded in to the fight with his staff, knocking one for six. Jane considered turning-undead, decided against it then cast an offensive spell (haze clouds my mind, more than one week after this event took place) of some description, I recall it hit; fresh round, the Ghasts went last, Gragnor Strongfoot was still down, as was Keera. Jane was also hit and downed (paralysed) after a heroic spell-casting attempt, then Silchas reaped revenge by swiping at another undead beastie, hitting it for six again (I don’t mean H.P. I mean cricket, naturally). Another round. Joe made it up, back on his feet. He stabbed at a Ghast only to roll a ‘1’, fumble! The resulting D1000 table indicated that he hit his ally, we rolled to see who, it was Silchas. Nasty! Keera was still on the deck. The Ghasts and the Druid fought it out. Jane made it back to the land of the living once more. Gragnor took another attack, another ‘1’ !! We rolled the D1000, the same result, ‘attack ally’ (Note: fortunately Gragnor made his DEXterity check both times to only inflict half-damage on the poor sod Silchas); then we had to roll to see who he attacked*, lo-and behold, who should it attack (you guessed it!) Silchas, again. Stabbing the guy up twice meant our Druid wondered whether the gnomish-warrior had wronged him in another life, had some personal vendetta against him. In a moment, t’was all forgotten while they concentrated on attacking the real enemy: the undead.

  • Based on size modifiers as per ‘firing into a melee’ in the combat chapter, the art of hack, PHB.

Needless to say this was a tough fight, eventually the group knocked out one Ghast, then another, all the while being knocked down, paralysed every-so often. Then the players running Joe & Jane had to go. The other two temporarily ran their character’s for them. I remember the Ghasts breaking off their attack attempting to parley at some point (when the Jr.Veterans were all down to a minascule amount of hit-points left! Soft G.M. card.) they tried to banish the crew from the complex, to which Keera, no longer in hand to hand, opened up with another barrage of Magick-Missiles, they cained the rest of the undead, and hoarded a shed-load of treasure. (I have a list somewhere, not to hand and will type up the exact haul a.s.a.p).

Keera made level 3 Battlemage, Jane went up on her rogue-side, so is now a level 3/4 (cleric/thief). Rawk on!

G.M.’s Campaign Log (XIV) for the 6th of August, in the year of our Lord 2010 Anno Dominii
Written by Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon at midnight.

On the frozen island of Byrona, nestled within the archapelago of the Dingy Pirate States, to be found nestled within a series of hilly-islands to the west of Snuggle-Nook. This particulalr island is located to the north, frozen ice-capped mountain villages, the town of Malar. Within the cosy yet still quite messy (claret) Tallfeather Tavern; (see accompanying image Image) whereby Berenger was haggelling down the price with his Bartering skill, selling off his old armour. The spoils of slaying the dwarven (Grogny) clan-chief Thorynn Oakstaff meant he had aquired a suit of ill-fitting Plate-Mail +3 (taking his Armour Class down to a safe -6). He had also managed to recover a Mace +1 from the slain bodies, as well as some coin.

The doors to the Tallfellow Tavern swung open again and a small dwarf entered: Stumpy; Saemus Seniors’ head racketeer, Sturm Pyre. Then a leprechaun (Saemus) materialised above Stumpy’s shoulder, shimmering into exsistance from his prior invisible state. “I knew I’d catch up with you, my network of spies are wide and vast. We suspected you would be near the temple of yondal’, up here in the Pirate-States, not far from our recent island-aquisition (Vulcan, isle of the cyclops). We caught up with the Sweet Mary Jane III after she was sighted leaving port, to the south of Fangerie.”, said Saemus slyly.
“Fancy a drink?”, offered Berenger, “You must’ve had a long journey.”
“Why-ever not!?”, replied the leprechaun. After stoking up his pipe, savouring the taste a little, then blowing smoke-rings about the hobbit.

The last of the bloodied corpses were pulled from the tavern floor, all the locals giving the house a hand, all mucking in (besides the two players), mopping up the pools of claret. After the broken bar-stools, pool-cues and splintered tables were cleared, the place seemed to feel cosy again, besides the stench. Incense was lit all about the place, and when the yokels sat back down at the bar and at tables, the room was filled with vast plumes of hazy smoke, hobbit pipeweed thick about the air. The smell of the fireplace now roaring, jade incense and mowi-mowi filled everyones nostrils, enough to distract them from the lingering odour of death that passed only moments ago.

A few rounds of Finch-Yagers and things were back to a relativly normal, peaceful, state again, in this little corner of Snuggle-Nook. That was until the door flew open again, letting in an icy chill, along with another dwarf or two. Not just any dwarf, but the sole-survivor of the foray that happened only hours ago. Berenger, unphased stepped straight up to the big feller (compared to him), grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and said, “What are you doing back here?! The cheek of it!”, the dwarf tried to calm the het-up hobbit by saying, “Wait! Stop! I am here to convey a message from the new chief of the Grogny Clan, Tyren Oakstaff.”.
Letting the dwarf go, Berenger stood there with arms cross, tapping his feet, “Well?! Speak man!”, he said.
“Well? The contents of the treasure trove were of little importance save one artifact of particular curiosity. We, the Grogny clan have a rightful claim to the dragon-krull throne here beneath Malar. In that chest was a sceptre of power, which, when the descending dwarven-king wields it, upon the dragon-krull throne, grants the rightful dwarven-king dominion over Lioness.”, the dwarf continued after pausing for breath, “The unscrupulous elves, at the last minute before the corination of soverignty, stole away our sceptre and we would ask you to retrieve it. Before you say anything let my fellow dwarven-kin here explain further.”.

The second dwarf, slightly more rotund and dressing in fine-silk renaissance-style garb spoke, “We are prepared to offer a very generous sum for you to accompany us and our companions to the village of Groenig, two-hundred leagues north of here the across the ocean, Snuggle-Sea. Our bretheren will take it from there, all we need you to do is protect us and we’ll pay you a thousand gold-crowns now and a further one-thousand five-hundred upon arrival.” (That’s 2K G.p. + 3K G.p. once in Groenig) “What say you?”. At that, the yokels started grumbling at the bar in their broad west-county accents, “Ooh arr! That’z a lat o’money for such a shart distance.”, another said: “Fuh’n roight! ‘Specially seein’ az it ’ain’t even bleedin’ infested ur nuthun.”, a third man interjected, carring a more northern red-rose county accent, “Aye! Thurs ‘owt in them ’ills. I walk it al’t time and I ’ain’t ’ad noo troubles at aall.”.

“Hmmm.”, replied Berenger, eyes darting across to Saemus, both of them seeing a potential opportunity, “We accept.”. A drink and a hand-shake later, the deal was done. Just then some of the locals left, saying their good-byes, as they were leaving a few more people drifted in. Merriment began again, the bard striking up a tune on his lute. People danced in the firelight on this dark winters evening.

A beautiful maiden came and whispered sweet nothings to both Sturm Pyre and Guriant (the P.C.‘s main character’s commanders) before long they were enticed outside by a succession of ‘Art of Seduction’ skill checks. Then Sturm Pyre came back in, eyeballs bulging, breathing heavily as though transformed by the intoxicating power of ecsatsy (Madma crystal, a.k.a. Elven Stardust.). A moment later, the Tallfellow tavern’s doors opened once again, this time only a gust of wind blowing-in once more, perhaps some sort of portent an omen, of the tragic that were about to unfold. Anyway.

Besides the brush of chilled wind that entered the tavern, Sturm seemed to be quite odd, spinning out, then, all of a sudden, dancing like a bollywood yoga-instructor, possessed by the spirit of hujaweemi and cuttin’ the rug some on the dance-floor. Unbeknownsed to our protaginists the doppelganger had slain bith Guriant and Sturm out in the stable-yard, had adopted Stumpy’s body.

So, the company rested on it’s laurels while the siren had her way; lastly a fight broke out, a stain in the driven snow, that was otherwise a perfect evening. The fact that Sturm had been acting strangely led Saemus and company to believe that something was amiss. Be sure, a ruckus ensued, with our compadres outsing the imposter then Saemus promptly peeing on the corpse of the doppelganger, attempting to gain a Chaotic-Evil based Honour bonus, for ‘urinating on an enemies corpse in full view of his comrades’ bonus. Not happening, simply because the doppelganger had no comrades, she was working alone, anyhow; Berenger squirrelled away the corpse of Guriant into his magickal bag, then the two (Saemus and he) continued to get drunk.

The next day, after Saemus pored over his spell-books (as he did every morning) and the young priest prayed to yondal’. The journey across the island the next morning was un-eventful, they met up with the Sweet Mary III and her crew, no trouble at all. They headed north, over the sea of storms, Snuggle-Sea. Our protagonists happened up a school of icthysourus, decided rather wisely to avoid.

The next night, as the Sweet Mary III cut through the gentle waves in the favourable wind, a dark shrouded figure floated on-deck, t’was none other than the scythe-weilding Death himself. Yes. The very same one from folklore, the discworld series and even Bill and Ted’s II. Anyway. He was only visible to the crewmember whom he had come to visit: one of Saemuses henchmen, however both Saemus and Berenger managed (by a stroke of luck, two passed dice rolls) to be able to percieve Death as well. After reaping the body and soul of the unfortunate victim the two little guys stared up into Death’s hood, asking a question of him. Berenger asked about Death (see image here for reply Image), whilst Saemus asked him of Buying & Selling (see reply in this image Image).

After a few more (this time un-eventful) days at sea the lookout shouted, “Land Ho!”. The home-grown crew and company had reached the port of Groenig. Dropping anchor about a mile or so off-shore, an away team was assembled. A small tender was lowered off-deck, the two dwarves stepping in. Berenger also boarded the vessel, as did Saemus. As they began to row, a storm kicked up. The sea became choppy, a swell was rising. Before the four knew what was happening the vessel capsized, a powerful whirlpool, magickally animated, dragged them all down into the deep. Panic began to take hold of the crew, flailing around as they were pulled further and further down below the ocean. After a time, they realized they could breathe! As they drifted, helpless, caught in the magick power of the dragonskull throne, they could see an ancient sea-elf sat upon the throne, a scepter in his hand. He spoke, “I shall never relinquish the scepter, nor the sea upon which I command. I, King Aelor of Seros rule this domain. I thank you for bringing my scepter back to me, but the dwarves, nor humans have no claim. Be careful as you wander my underwater city, Lioness.”.

At that, King Aelor drifted off on the throne, floating away from them in the the fading distance. The under(water) home-grown crew drifted throughout the coral crusted bottom of this mysterious place. Exploring a ship-wreck, they happened upon a load of treasure, the dwarves swam off, then the duo were set upon by a couple of sea-zombies, Berenger used his Turn Undeadto repel the two undead juju-drones. He destroyed one and Saemus’s spell casting wasted t’other one.

While searching for treasure the two heard a wailing sound, a ghostly apparation appeared. It was hostile and began attacking the hobbit and leprechaun. This time Berenger’s Turn Undead ability had no effect; both priest and wizard had some heroic spell-casting in this encounter (that is to say casting successfully in hand-to-hand combat). At the end of a bitterly fought battle aged 20 years old, while Berenger is now 126 years old (he was 66).

After the fight was over the two were leaving the wreck of the Prismatic only to see another ship-wreck falling down to the same place. They narrowly avoided being crushed, made it away clean. Until the next time.

Grift-Meister Maxen the Saxon’s Campaign Log XV, written on Wodensday the 11th of August in the year of our Lord, 2010 Anno Domini; at midnight, Greenwich Mean-Time,.

Gragnor Strongfoot slipped away from the Jr. Veterans in the middle on the night, on his watch. A funny feeling came over the man, a strange, mystical sense of foreboding. Almost as though his father, Old Joe Strongfoot (a.k.a. Gaerdal Ironhand) had warned him away from the place. A feeling of dread, as if he didn’t belong here, in this place, at this time.

As the twin-moons of Allansia hung bright in the sky, Gragnor moved down and round the corridor, out the front door of the complex (what he thought was the caverns of Caskayton, actually the McFinnigan brewery). The night was clear, a few wispy clouds, moving fast, high in the night sky. A mud-slide had caused entrance to collapse, making it impassable without proper climbing apparatus (or the ability to fly). Slipping down the embankment, the gnomish warrior made his way into the darkness. A candle in the wind (only Lv 3) with thousands of leauges to cover on his own, with no bodyguard and little coin to spare.

During his flight in the dark, Gragnor was assailed by visions of prophecy, fever dreams, glimpses of the the future. A peice if the tapestry threads that cross and weave. It seemed that the current custodians of the caverns, need-be informed of the break-in. The gawds willed it come to pass; and so it was, that the young Gragnor Strongfoot journey all the way across north Snuggle-Nook, to reach those who needs-be warned against impending danger.

Taking a slow boat from Wynar (the Sunbeam), he managed to hitch a ride on a small merchant vessel headed to the Dingy Pirate States. En route the Sunbeam was boarded by pirates. Cap’tn Hatchsang aboard the Troll slew nearly all the passengers and crew, all except the son of Old Joe Strongfoot, who fought tooth and nail to the bitter-end. Back against the main-mast, the gnome soldier took down two more raiders before being struck over the head with a belaying pin. Lapsing into unconsiousness, he fell into blackness. The void.

Awakening and being handed his short-sword, backpack, then some provisions, Cap’tn Hatchsang made the land-lubber walk the plank, after ordering the bonds on his feet to be cut. Waking only to walk to his apparant death, Gragnor Strongfoot sank deep beneath the waves…

(Righty-ho, now that’s the synopsis for a new character joining the underground home-grown crew done with let’s recount what happened in this weeks session!)

Gragnor found himself in undersea courtyard, surrounded by mainly ruined building. The gnome found that he could breathe with ease, that he had aclimatised quickly, adapted to his new enviroment. He saw two other figures swimming down, t’was none other than the enigma that was the leprechaun racketeer: Saemus O’Finnigan (Senior) with his compadre, the hobbit priest Berenger. Greetings were exchanged, and for no particular reason (save that the underground home-grown crew needed a fighter ‘avant guarde’), the three decided to go adventuring together.

Gragnor the gnome spoke, “I’ve been told by gawd-”, Berenger interjected,“Which gawd?”, “Ironhand”, “I see, please, do continue…”, “Very well. I shall”, the gnome carried on as if never interrupted, “I’ve been sent by the gawd Gaerdal Ironhand to warn you all of impending danger.” The gnome-warrior retold the story of his capture then said, “So I fear Cap’tn Hatchsang is planning on seizing any ships he thinks he has a chance of capturing along these straits. This includes the Sweet Mary Jane III; not only that, but another adventuring company has begun ransacking Caskayton, I mean, the McFinnigan brewery!”.

Immediatly Berenger pulled Guriant (the commander of his zealot-army that died at hands of a doppleganger in the stables of Tallfellow tavern during last week’s session) out of his magick Bag of Holding, then began casting Minor Raise Dead on him. He made it back to the land of the living, albeit with no possessions and one less point of CONstitution, not only that but a couple of minor quirks. Anyhow, while he was breathing life back into Guriant, his side-kick; Saemus and Gragnor noticed that they were all being watched by someone or something, hiding within a ruined temple.

Gragnor swam up to the old cathedral, investigating the watcher. Saemus followed in tow, and Berenger threw Guriant some spare leather hides he had for something to wear; that was before catching up with the crew. The prying eyes were that of a friendly mermaid*. “How am I able to breathe?”, asked Gragnor rather inquisitively. She replied, “The power of the pentagram, twinned with that of the dragonskull throne means anyone may breathe normally or act normally, as if above ground. However, it will only last until the sun sets, some ten hours away from now. Seek you the Black Pearls, for they will aid you greatly in your quest. Take this magick pendant, it will bring you good fortune**. Now…”, she blew them a kiss, “…I must take my leave of you gentleman.”, and at that, a flip of her tail and she was gone.

{ * = One free Fate-Point or Mulligan for this short adventure only, this was for Gragnor Strongfoot.}
{ ** = Grift-Meister’s note: she could have been Darahl Hannah from the movie “Splash”, who, coincidentally in real life actually plays D&D! She’s one of the few celebrities that do; although I can’t confirm it, I highly suspect that both Jhonny Vaughn and Bill Bailey game as well.}

Anyway, let’s get back to cases: Their was nothing of particular interest or value where they were, so the underground home-grown crew chose to descend further into the murky depths of Lioness. They came to a crossroads in the tunnel they were following, turned right, then descended deeper and deeper in to the watery depths, only to find a door. Being highly suspicious (rightly so, we are after all playing D&D, not only that but hard-core Hack-Master so it’s even more unforgiving!) the crew checked for traps. The door was clean, so Saemus did and open locks skill check, it was open anyway. The four felt a rush of current sweep them out of the tunnel as soon as they opened the door. It shut behind them then they saw they were beside a cliff-face, the group decided to investigate the coral cliff-face further. They stumbled upon a cavern nestled within the rock. Entering the cave, they were set upon by a pair of giant moray-eels. A few combat rounds later the moray eels were begging for mercy, one was down to only a few hit-points, the other dead. It darted out of the cave after a failed morale check, Berenger took a chunk out of it with an attack of opportunity, but the thing made it away.

Then the guys examined another ship-wreck, a galleon with a huge chunk out of her side. A clam-trap shuts on Berenger’s leg, wounding him. Then three sea-spiders crept up on the crew. Saemus let rip with a lightning bolt, toasting one of them straight away for 87 points of damage! Damaging another. Guriant and Berenger waded in there while Gragnor took up position behing some driftwood. The spiders engaged, injecting a lethal venow into poor old Guriant, downing the hobbit cavalry commander (N.P.C.), then Berenger attacked with another Cause Nasty Wounds, hurting the beast. Gragnor took a shot at another aquatic arachnid, the missile finding it’s mark. Another sea-spider decked Saemus, who failed his save vs.poison. Gragnor pulled his comrade to relative saftey behind his cover, the barricade of driftwood. Berenger took a whack at another spider before being downed himself. Gragnor attacked with his short-sword, stabbing one of the two giant sea-spiders closing-in on him; the sword finding it’s mark. Guriant came around, stood up then promptly attacked the arachnid, hitting the thang.

The crew were in a tight spot, what with half of them down; their back was against the wall, but then Saemus made it back up, tried to cast another spell, took an attack of opportunity for his troubles, failed his poison save and was down once more. Berenger attacked once more, his magickal +3 warhammer Mijolneer hitting the moray-eel for some. The fighting was fierce and the home-grown crew only just saw off the giant spiders. They found a large silver pearl within the clam and managed to exctract the glands of the spider for Saemuses botany and herbalism skills. They healed up quickly, then checked out the captain’s cabin. Here most of the furnishings were water-logged, soaked, ruined beyond use. However, one vellum chart survived in-tact. A map showing the surrounding area above land: Tarfeather Isle, Gorblimey Rocks, Fish Isle, Kestrel Isle and a skull & crossbones mark over some other distant atoll. The treasure hold opposite was ransacked, Gragnor found a lone gold-peice.

Swimming out of the ship, the crew found an underwater garden, past the gates, they looked upon the strange blue-green aquatic vegetation before taking the left hand path; finding a marble fountain, spewing forth bubbles of air, instead of water. (See accompanying image here Image) They could see something glittering within the fountain and became immediately suspicious. Even so, Gragnor reached an arm in to grab the object, and was bitten by a scorpion-fish for his trouble. The poison taking it’s toll. All that for a mere half-crown (1 G.p.). The next part of the gardens of Lioness was what looked like an orchard, thick branch-like stems of coral bore odd-looking red and orange fruit. Gragnor, nursing a sore hand refused to eat the potentially harmful fruits. The others boldy tried some, restoring hit-points. Grangor quickly followed suit.

The path curved around then the guys found a clearing. Inside was a very ordinary-looking cottage surrounded by a great iridescent bubble. Inside they could see regular land-dwelling shrugs, even a cat. They swam closer, peered through into a window of the cottage. Inside was an old man sitting at a desk. He noticed the travellers and urged them inside with a smile.

The crew met Old man Greylock, a wizard with a huffy, no-nonsense attitude about him; the crew asked if the ability to breathe underwater was comprimised when they walked through the iridescent bubble; Grelock alleviated their fears by telling them that the magicks surrounding his home would not intefere with the eight hours they had left, ‘su la mer, belle’.

Anyhow, the wizard went for a magick wand, Saemus prepped a Lightning-Bolt, everyone else backed off quickley or inched their way towards the door. Fortunatly, nothing harmful happened. Saemuses’ spell fizzled, the wand merely healed the crew. Greylock sat in his home, surrounded by many shelves and jars containing all manner of spell-components. The old man spoke, “You’d do well to find the magickal dark-pearls, only the Sea-Dragon has them; beware for she is both treacherous and greedy, but she can help you… if she wants to.”, He changes the subject abrubtly. “What about Silver Pearls have you any of them?”, “Why yes, as a matter of fact we do.”, producing one solitary white-pearl from the clam and sea-spider encounter earlier on.“Good!”, said Greylock, “The magick of the Pearl unfortunately cannot be used by any of you but t’would be very valuble to me. I would trade it to you for a potion or two, I have healing potions, ethereal form and fortune.”, Saemus handed over the white-pearl saying, “We’ll take the potion of treasure-seeking, please, the fortune.”, “Mighty fine.”, replied Greylock, handing over the bottle, adding, “Unlike most potions, this one will work underwater.” The object was a triangular bottle, with a swiirling greenish liquid inside.

“Well then,” said the old man, ’that is about all I can do for you. Hurry…"

Grift-Meister’s story-line addenum, the short reign of Gilead IV.

As though in celebration of the new king being crowned, the summer slipped benignly over Fang’. Warm, but not hot; cool, but not cold.
The rains waited until the flowers of the vines exchanged their pollen and set their clusters densely, and then gentle moisture stirred the growth. The earth gave sugar and the warm air breed. Before a single grape ripened, t’was felt that, barring some ugly trick by nature, this would be a vintage year, the kind remembered from the time when an old man was young; and the wheat headed full and yellow. The butter took an unearthly sweetness from the vintage grass. The truffles crowded one another under the ground. The geese happily stuffed themselves…everyone was content. Everyone, that was, except our new king…

The king listened silently; and he emerged depressed.
Gilead’s mind often sought shelter in the memory of his little balcony overlooking Maringay street. He could see and feel the dark and silent sky and the slow-flailing nebulæ.
Outwardly he was calm and friendly. Now and then he nodded his head, which the audience took to mean the king’s agreement and was actually only the king’s growing knowledge of government and of kingship.
He accepted loneliness, but he could not control a scurrying search for either solution or escape, and he did not find them anywhere.
Where the partisans left off the ambassadors continued. Sitting in his painted room, Gilead politely heard the neat and statesmanlike ambitions of other nations to use in Fang’, each for it’s own purpose – and again he nodded and grey depression fogged his soul…

The reason for Gilead’s sullen state of mind was unkown to anyone save the regent himself. Tracing his family-line back four generations, the reason the Gilead family dynasty had managed to stay in power was because of a young squire: Lord Gilead the first. A hired hand for a group known as ‘The Knights’, this young (at the time) torchbearer happened upon a powerful artifact: the crown of command. Throughout the family’s heritage each father to son (and so forth) explained that the source of their power need be kept close to hand at all times. The royal courtiers commisioned a luxury bag, tailored to fit the crown snuggly. Not just any bag, but a regal-looking expensive magickal accessory: a magick Bag of Holding.

Each new king (no queens as Fang, like many kingdoms are bound by Salique Law) has had this relic handed down to him, at the time of his corination. This particular king however, was not only a liberal, simple man, but a reluctant regent. T’was only because Pippin Gilead IV had no brothers that he had ascended to the throne, at the youthful age of twenty-four. His father, Athelyn Gilead III was killed trying to slay a mighty Gorgon on the isle of Kelios; and so, Pippin Gilead IV came to prominance. The only trouble was that a pesky pan-dimensional rover had stolen away the crown, and this time not replaced it with anything. Alas, Pippin (or Pip’ as he was known to those closest to him) was in a pickle. As soon as his subjects and privvy council learned of the new-kings loss, a shift in the balance of power would soon rear it’s ugly head.

Revolution. War. Death. All the things bad for both the kingdom of Fang’ and indeed the world of Snuggle-Nook would soon be; as the royal houses of the Vercingetors, the Merovingians, the Carolingians and other, less known royal houses would stake a claim to the throne. I fear (as Grift-Meister) that once our heroes return from the murky depths of Seros, a new face of Fang’ would mean a re-negociation on the tax-relief that the McFinnigan-Yondal’ consortium had enjoyed thus far. Not only that, but Capt’n Hachsang is roving the Dingy Pirate-States for plunder. Having his eye set on both the famed Sweet Mary Jane III and indeed the isle of Vulcan…

by Maxen » Tue Aug 31, 2010 5:37 pm
The Lodestone

By Vailythins Tower came the great flat lode, an area of hilly rural vista, nestled in the far southerly tip, hidden within the folds of the Lionesse hills, Dyfed, Keltoi lands. Beyond the pale of Anglyn civilization was a wild yet chilled out tribe of rebel Keltoi, Brigante of the south, the miners of Col-Deyth. From a remote monastery came Valraven Yami, a rigante Monk, wandering about the land, fresh out of the academy.

Temporal-shift time again, Saemus uses his newly aquired Teleport (Without Error) spell to whisk himself to the outta there; (there being wherever it is he was) he magically transported throughout space and time, only to appear standing right-next to Valraven here. The now usual flashing neon light sign, flickered with a huge pink arrow downwards, with the words ‘Lv5-12 adventure this way’. The Evils of Haranshire await the home-grown posse, on, and into the underdark…

by Maxen » Mon Sep 13, 2010 3:08 am
The session has started, I’m writing it up as we go right now, live web-feed coming…

Saemus is memorizing the following spells:

6 x Phantasmal Fireballs (Lv I), 4 x Side-winder Magick Missiles (Lv II), 2 x Lightning Bolts, 2 x Phantom Steed (Lv III), 3 x Fireball: Side-winder Factor 4 (Lv IV), 2 x Spell-Shield, 1 x Avoidance (Lv V); but unfortunately an opportunity to cast them didn’t present itself. T’was a mistake starting the sesh’ at 2 A.M. (Check the time I am posting this!) and was but the briefest of gaming sessions.

Valraven bought a horse, rolled for quality and rolled a ‘99’ so ended up getting a Shirkmare charger with a Headstrong personality, named him Xianyu (Mandarb in West-County). They were hired by a wizard to transport a chest of magick spell components, glyph of warded up, the group agreed on a thou’ (500 Gold-Crowns). That was after much deliberation on what the cargo was, precisely. The nature of the contents the old grey mystic kept quiet about until pushed. He opened the case to show them t’was merely spell-components, bound for a like-minded friend of his, in the town of Tyrmas. On the road, they meet some people who seem like farmers. (See attached image) They had hidden weapons which the crew noticed, Saemus tilted his sunglasses to show the would-be footpads, his demon eyes glowing, instilled fear into the hearts of these bumpkin outlaws, they soon fled, dropping their secreted weapons. Once in the village of Millstone, they entered the village pub, The White Lion. After getting some rumours about the place over a drink the unlikely pair caught sight of an organised street-fight outside. Valraven bet eight gold-crowns (8 H.s.p. or 16 Gold) on him winning a bout. The bell rang, seconds-out, round one! Campion lost the initiative, but only just. Valraven clipped him with a jab to the jaw, Campion answered it with a right-hook, denting Valraven’s face and pride. Valraven sent a flurry of attacks, a left-hook, followed up smoothly with a right cross. With a knock-out blow after only ten seconds, Yami bested their finest pugelist. Refusing the reward, here endeth the session.

Underground Home-Grown Crew
First year Snuggle-Nook Campaign (2009)

What has happened in our roleplaying session (we’re playing HackMaster). It’s the old-school Underground Home-Grown House Crew. Kickin’ ass’ in town, Knight’s of the Dinner Table stylee!

Game Masters Campaign Log, started in June 2009.

By Grift-Meister Maxen the Anglo-Saxon

To start with only a motley crew of three adventurers (Shaemus O’Finnigan – a Leprechaun Mage/Thief, Shaelf Chaffson – a female Grey Elf Wizard, and finally Silchas Anasurimbor – a Wood-Elven Druid) became lost in the wilderness of the Hell’s Throat pass, deep within the slopes of the Praxter mountain range. After following the advice of a blind pilgrim, the trio were half-starved and sick from exposure as they reached the outskirts of Frandor’s Keep. Enlisting the help of two Hafling Thugs, they entered the fortress without any real trouble.

Picking a fight with a silver backed gorilla, Silchas managed to use his rapport with the wild to tame the beast. Much to the disappointment of the onlooking crowd, the silver-back was instantly putty in his hands. Then Shaemus O’Finnigan fired a barbed dart into the creature, making him attack Silchas, who, due to quick thinking managed to make the animal play dead. However the reward was not as good as it seemed for the 500 gold piece bounty was mainly made up of counterfeit coins.

Then, after catching the attention of the Keeps commander, they were asked to investigate the temple ruins, three days ride south of here. After loading up with supplies and provisions, the five of them set off southward to discover what lay with the crumbling temple of Pangrus.

After discovering a layer of traps beneath the marshes, the adventurers scouted out the site. Turning himself invisible then flying into a nest of lizardmen, Shaemus robbed them all clean before being discovered by the tell-tale flapping of his wings. In attempt to stave off Shaemus’ imminent death, Silchas cast an entangle spell, snaring almost every one of the male lizardmen above ground and only a couple of the females just beneath the surface of the earth. Shaemus was also entangled, prone and helpless. The enraged lizardmen mothers bit, cut and slashed the Leprechaun within an inch of his life. After biting off a finger, he barley escaped alive. Tossing healing potions around and sending in the scared Halfing Thugs alone, the three just about made it out with their lives. Which is more than can be said for the hired help who haven’t been seen since!

Then after returning to Frandor’s Keep, the party joined forces with Joseph Ironhand (A Gnome Titan Soldier, privateer) and Jane Matahar (seemingly another Gnome Titan, who appeared to be a Cleric of Gaerdal, no-one knows who Jane really is)…

Setting off again, this time with a only a bouncer from a local tavern as protection the group now numbered seven – including Wainright – Joseph’s Gnomeling Titan torch-bearer.

At the encounter in the ruins once more, the group were again overwhelmed by the forces of reptilians. Fleeing for their life, the bouncer became separated from the group.

Meanwhile, the party encountered another Gnome Titan ally in their walk in the wilderness. Garag Tog, a Beserker joined the crew. As Joe relinquished command of the adventuring company to it’s most long standing member – Shaemus O’Finnigan the Pixie-Leprechaun – they stumble across a cave entrance within the folds of a clay cliff-face.

{ ‘Conan’ [running Joe and Jane] leaves for the shire back home}

Obscured by the undergrowth but still visible, the gang made their way into the gloomy darkness. Anyway, after Garag failed to force the door, as did Joe on his first attempt, Joseph Gaerdal Ironhand (a.k.a. G.I. Joe) kicked the entrance to splinters. Stumbling upon the warning of two floating magical mouths, the adventurers ignored the advice about the original owners someday coming back to their home.

Beyond that lay another door down the passageway. Peeking through the key-hole, the party surprised a lone dire-cockroach, feeding on a corpse. The group had no trouble in closing it down within a few rounds. G.I. Joe wasted it with one final stab of his short sword. After a quick search the group found a key that fitted the now broken front door under the welcome mat! Heading up a small flight of stairs the group opened another door.

Beyond lay a scene of gruesome horror as another fool-hardy group of would-be heroes could be seen decomposing after failing to fight off an Orc attack. Once again ignoring the advice of the magic mouths who retold the account of their demise, however still being cautious, the group took the road less traveled; Silchas stumbled across a secret door in the south-east corner of the complex, after traveling a way into the gloom. Surprising a Scavenger Ogre he headed back out to his compadres warning them of the imminent danger. The party had little trouble dispatching the beast, a few combat rounds and magic missiles later, the guys (and girls) had slain the monster. They cleaned out the room full of treasure then investigated another room.

This seemed to be some old scribes writing desk and just as Shaemus went to try the drawer, Jane Gaerdal Ironhand (a.k.a. G.I. Jane) suddenly realized that it could be a trap. Making three successful thieving skill checks {at only a thirty percent chance each!! Find, remove traps and then a lock-pick} the party thief did the group proud! Then they found a whole host of magical scrolls and a magic wand. They also spied a strange word in Elven written under the desk.

Writing the scrolls into their spell books, Shaemus and Shaelf have their spell power greatly enhanced. The Pixie-Leprechaun learned (Spider Climb, Throw Voice, Blur, Flaming Sphere, Pyrokenesis and White Hot Metal), not bad considering the guy’s a pyromaniac! As for Shaelf Chaffson, she learned (Aura of Innocence, Comprehend Languages, Enlarge, Magic Missile, Phantasamal Force and Push). The group camped and had an uneventful night in the dungeon.

Pushing on they entered an old throne room. Silchas’ keen senses spied a pair of Yakulee jungle snakes coiled around two of the pillars. Using his powers of animal rapport once again he convinced the creatures not to harm them. After cleaning out a worship area and trophy room, finding a broad-sword +1 (normal size) although devoid of any monster activity, the party came across another secret door hidden at the end of a passageway. Finding one of the original owners’ private chambers (Roigean) they soon cleaned out the absent landlords bedroom. Running his hands along the stone walls revealed a small gargoyle, turning it to the left, Shaelf found another secret corridor, this time leading to Roigeans (one of the two the original owners’) mistress’ bedroom. She was cleaned out of any valuables before returning back on the trail.

Heading north through a windy corridor, the home-grown crew appeared in a large antechamber, filled with pools containing various liquids. Shaemus and Silchas went about using their arcane lore skills to discern what magical properties the fluids may contain. After various discoveries such as healing, acid and fresh spring water, they quickly found out which ones to try and which ones weren’t good for you. They even found one with an unlimited supply of the finest Kromian ale. Garag found it to his liking and couldn’t help but quaff three whole pints before shaking off the addictive effects of the magical curse.

Another pool surprised the home-grown crew as an acid monster formed and started to engulf Garag. Shaemus tried to throw oil all over the beast, despite having a massive +4 to hit, throwing into a large pool at short range, he managed to fumble, spilling oil all over himself! Menwhile as the beast tried to eat Garag, fortune favoured him as he plunged a longsword into the thing, corroding it beyond use but putting the acid blob out of action.

They then headed north again, this time disturbing a dozen drunken orcs in an armoury. After a bloody encounter where the monsters could only fight two at a time through the narrow doorway, Garag was sent into a blind rage after suffering a critical hit to his armpit and nearly killed two of his own fellow adventurers trying to heal him! While trying to heal the wounded Gnome Titans, G.I. Jane took one for the team, taking a critical hit to the thigh that killed her outright! Her staff of curing was nearly depleted as the divine stepped in, Baravar acting through the torch-bearer Wainright brought her back to life. (She would have purged her honour to use a fate point but her honour was only 1, i.e. not in the Great Honour window, therefore not allowed a mulligan. A roll on the ‘Divine Intervention’ table coupled with bonuses for her following the tenants of her cloakshadow faith so strongly was the only real way out for her to live, even if it did mean losing a point of Constitution permenantly.) . Shaelf torched the lot of them with a burning hands spell. Shaemus flew above the heads of the Orcses (taking two sword swipes for his trouble) then fired barbed darts into the orcs. As Garag and G.I. Joe fought bravely to stop the inebriated orcs from breaking through the doorway, Shaemus poured oil all over the green-skins from above then lit them up with a fire-finger spell. As the panicked Orcs started to flee G.I. Joe, Garag and Shaelf finished closing most of them down. Only a handful of Orcses survived.

Battered and in need of some healing, the exhausted group make camp back in the water-pool room, after pausing a time to lick their wounds, they’ll be soon ready to quest further into the the caverns of Quesqueton…

Written by Maxen the Anglo-Saxon at 4:45AM Greenwich Mean Time, 2nd of July, 2009.

G.M. Log, entry at 3:45AM GMT, 6th of July, 2009.

After an un-eventful night in the pools, the group decided to investigate the treasure that could be lying around the armoury and barracks areas of the orc encounter. Shaemus found a scorched velvet cloak, ruined beyond repair but with a rose emblazoned brooch still of some value. Among the other things they found were a bearskin and an old canteen.

Heading off, back the way they came – to try and explore some of the passage-ways they may have missed – the home-grown crew stumbled upon a sleeping monster in his bedchamber. Shaemus tried sneaking up to assassinate the Org boss but he awakened at the noise the intruder made. Shaemus fumbled, falling flat on his back and accidentally throwing his weapon nine feet away into the corner of the room, looked as though he was at the mercy of the angry Org. He took a critical hit, his arm would have been off at the shoulder if he hadn’t have used his fate-point mulligan and loose face (90% of all his Honour lost). Garag and the others rushed to his aid when the Org lashed out once more sending the Gnome-Titan Beserker into a wild frenzy! After slaying the enemy leader Garag would not stop his fit of rage. It wasn’t until he had sated his thirst for blood by taking a chunk out of the Druid Silchas Anasurimbor, that he calmed down. Reluctant and cautious to heal him, Jane expended all of her healing spells on him while he was still calm.

After ransacking the room and taking the +1 longsword, +1 mace and +2 medium shield, leaving the baubles, trinkets and other mundane items the seven pressed on. As they rounded the corridors, back to the worship area they came across a captured cleric, who had somehow managed to escape. When the holy man was close he suddenly changed into his true-form: that of a Hecuva! Surprised and knocked for thirteen points of damage, Shaemus was knocked down again after rolling two fumbles in a row! It took a while for the undead fiend to be bested. A team effort of combat, and one of Shaemus’ magic missiles blasted the wailing Hecuva to smithereens. This wasn’t before Garag started to feel the effects of the disease, inflicted by the undead beast, when he managed a lucky hit.

After finding a 100 Platinum, 1000 Electrum pieces, a +2 Gnome-Titan Sword of Battle Sense, and a pair of Bracers of Defence, the crew moved back to the pool room to heal up, then on to another un-explored part of the dungeon.

Entering an ornate drinking-room in the far corridor of the temple, Shaemus inspected a statue of a woman in the center of the room. The second he touched the work of art, it suddenly leapt to life. A Mineral Mimic nearly devoured him as he fought off the apparation. It quite some time and the efforts of all the company to bring it down. Another Magic Missile from Shaemus found it’s mark, he had the honour of getting in the killing blow on the thing.

{Shaemus levelled-up (He’s now a Level 3 Thief and a Level 2 Wizard!) as did Shaelf Chaffson (She’s now a Level 2 Wizard). The home-grown knights of the dinner table call it a week. I’ll keep you all posted. Max-out.}

Latest update (8th of July, 2009)

The ex-group leaders (G.I. Joe & Jane) left the group after their silence spoke volumes. Under new leadership, the group met a Bard from Anglyn (played by yours truly) named Anorpheus Voltaire. Although from Albion, Anorpheus is fluent in the Franconian tounge (and of course their manner of making out), he comes complete with a lute and is only Level 2. I took the “Rover” personality as it is soooo me. Todays session is postponed as Shaemus has horse-riding lessons (in real life!). All the best, roll on next week!

So, where we left off, the group started to break apart, Joe took his fair share of the treasure; then after half-completing the adventure Garag Tog (The Gnome-Titan Beserker) started bragging in the tiled keg tavern about how they were the heroes of Quasqueton. He collared a bard from outside to recount his tale of fortune and glory. Meanwhile, Saemus O’Finnigan decided to set fire to the a random building. We rolled to see which one and it was the very bar they were drinking in! Anyway, it didn’t catch for very long and after a time the home-grown crew had more troubles. It seems that Garags bragging had gotten around the town and another hero – Skraag Tallfellow – was boasting that he was the real hero around here. The crew marched over to the other side of town and Garag threw down the gauntlet, a honour challenge for Skraag, which he gladly accepted.

So, whilst Shaemus turned invisible and stated cleaning out Skraags pockets, Garag rolled a Severity Level 12 Critical hit and severed Skraags leg! After knocking the Half-Orc out, he started jumping up and down on his groin! Then, as Skraag was getting up, he scored ANOTHER critical, this time taking the leg off below the knee. The Half-Orc started to die of blood loss, Silchas the Druid tried to heal him but failed. Then Skraag drew on his reserves of strength, rose up then sent a right cross that knocked Garag sideways! Another left cross, followed by an uppercut sent Garag hurling to the dirt, K.O. Unconcious! It was by the by as he Skraag later died of blood loss! Garag Tog searched his body (found two artifacts, including an intelligent sword “Atticus Noyle”) and pilfered that which Saemus hadn’t already pinched.

Making a quick getaway they met a scroll trader trying to hawk some spells. They were about to let him join the company when Garag went into a blind rage, flatenning the Half-Ogre hawker! Then the crew were in real danger as the two ther Gnome Titans were hard as nails! In a fight that lasted over twenty rounds, they eventually took down the two bodyguards.

I, as Grift-Meister have ruled that several Alignment infraction points towards Chaotic Evil have been issued. Rightly so. I’ll keep you all informed.

Ciao for now,

G.M.Maxx (21st of July, 2009)

The story continues… After making a quick getaway, the pair (Garag Tog the Gnome-Titan Beserker, and Saemus O’Finnigan – the Leprechaun Rogue-Mage) made off with their spoils into the wilderness. The artifacts they had collected were too powerful to be of any use. Garag tributed his intelligent sword to the sect of pangrus, and Saemus threw his into a volcano, in the mountains of Hells Throat. Anyway, the motley crew heard the sound of someone getting robbed in the forest. They stumbled upon a hobbit being taxed by a couple of margoyles. They wasted them in no time, and were about to slay the poor little hobbit until I told them (via the torchbearer Wainright) that he was from the same village. The Gnomeling Titan Wainright met his brother, Forthright, and the home-grown crew inquired as to who was behind the attack. The old Hobbit (Wallo) told them of a tower belonging to a Baron Karnor. (Okay, okay, so I lifted this part of the adventure from an old Thundercats episode called ‘The Tower of Traps’ so sue me!) Anyhow, the group investigated the tower, became seperated as they all fell through a pit trap. Garag found himself in a cage in the top of the tower, unable to break the bars with his beserker strength. Saemus the Leprechaun simply flew up to the top of the tower, while all this was going on. He found a way through to the treasure room, straight away and was filling his pockets with loot! Down at the bottom level, the rest of the crew (namely Wainright, Forthright, Shaelf Chaffson and Zeriah) began trying to ascend the tower. The sticky steps had them defeated (watch aforementioned Thundercats episode for more info!) and they headed downwards instead: the part of the adventure inspired by Conan…

Grift-meister’s Campaign Log III (Written at 1 A.M. on Thorsday the 28th of October, 2009 Anno Dominii).
{Saemus O’Finnigan the Leprechaun Mage/Thief: Level 8/8}
{Berenger the Hobbit Priest of Yollonda, Level 4 }

After splitting off, gowing their various ways, the party gradually reformed, some months later. After journeying to the far off Fernwick Isle to gather at the Pixie-Fairy Meet, Saemus O’Finnigan and his Giant Butterfly steed ‘Swift-Wing’ returned with wings cinged after stopping by White Plume Mountain. He found himself torn between realities on the way back, taking a brief detour to the Elemental Plane of Fire, Sir Robilar’s City of Brass, then shifting through two more dimensions (Banditemp and Snuggle Nook) before returning home to Garweeze Wurld, and the Little Keep on the Borderlands.
Mehnwhile, Berenger – the young Hobbit priest of Yollonda – together with his companion (well, hanger-on) Kyleena the Outlaw, an Elven lady-huntress, went out to the ruined dungeon set in to the hillside of the Frandorian mountain range. The caverns of Quasqueton.

See accompanying documentation found in this Grift-meisters log, for the fates of the other players, not in this campaign any longer. For the moment that is… Please refer to ‘Knights of the Dinner Table’ – Alternate Histories by Maxen the Saxon.

Here our heroes pick up the trail, after several months divided and seperated. A new fellowship emerges, Hobbit, Elf, and Man. Kroon the Human Battlemage, Jeeves the Halfling-Thug and Kryleena the Wood-Elven Outlaw; all accompany Berenger, their leader up to the slopes of the adventure area. Having been washed away by rain and a landslide, the clay would be difficult to negotiate. Upon heeding the advise of Kryleena, foreseeing this contingiency, the party managed to gain access to the dungeon entrance, through a combination of climbing equiptment and ropes.
Spying some movement in the trees, the keen Elven awareness of Kryleena spied someone or something watching them from a clearing behind some thicket. Upon investigating the source of the watcher, they stumbled across an old nag, tied up against a tree. This small pony had been abandoned by the old-school underground home-grown crew (Saemus, Garag and G.I. Joe) some months before. Having rubbed himself against the tree he was tied to this broek-down skinny nag had eaten the contents of his former masters’ saddlebags, and made do on grass and dew-drops for several months now.
Berenger the belenevolent priest of Yollonda (the Hobbit nature-goddess) immediatly offered the husky pony some of his rations. The beast took one bite then couldn’t eat anymore. After untidying the grateful animal, he dubbed him ’Nag’s name’ and fed him some more. Then, once full, the animal wearied so slumped down to sleep there and then. Leaving his own pony (her name Sallope), Berenger bade her too look after her fellow beast of burden. The two should get on alright he thought, what them being about the same age and all. Alas, I am drifiting (it’s 2 A.M. here and I’m having to write this up while it’s fresh in my memory). Anyway! They left the butler Jeeves to guard the ponys and ventured forth, in to the interior of the complex.
The trio started up the slope then Berenger called upon his deity to summon an invisible man-servant. Mumbelling and gesturing the prayer he cast Summon Divine Lackey. Ordering the thing to go on inside the dungeon, ahead of the party. The two customary magick-mouths appeared, issued their pre-primed warning speeches then winked out of exsistence. The doors were smashed open, an ominous wind whistled through the seemingly deserted Keep.
Then the invisible aide told the trio of the scene of devastation ahead. A whole mess of adventurers lay splattered about the place. In amongst them were the Keep’s owners, surrounded by dead debt collectors. Passing this gruesome scene, the party went on about the maze of corridors, coming across the ransacked warehouse. Kryleena then spotted a hidden door, that had admittidly been previously busted open by the original underground home-grown crew. This lead to a cleaned out laboratory and spell-preparation room. After examining the lab’ full of biology pariphinalea, dead magickally-animated crawling claws and pilfered spell-components, the group went next door only to be suprised by an insideous stalker hiding in the chimney. It KO’d the Divine Lackey then Kroon smashed it over the head with some brandy, inebreating the monster enough to free our invisible man-servant. The (now fully healthy) hidden Jaguar, also suprised Kroon, poucing out from it’s hiding place while everybody was distracted by the Stalker. Kroon took two paws in the chest and a snarling maw eating his arm, only just saved his ‘system shock survival’ roll after being critically twice in a row! Taking a massive twenty-six points of damage, the level four Battlemage was down to only one hit-point! He retaliated by knocking the wind out of the cat with his two-handed blade.
Kryleena was not so easily taken off guard, she waded in there with her longsword drawn, taking a chunk out of the big-cat’s chest spraying claret all over the shop. Berenger thew Kroon a potion of extra-healing, the ‘LV4 Battlemage’ only just caught it, gulped down the contents then took another bite from the angry giant-cat, which took him straight back down to a single H.P. again!! Berenger caught a stray paw, cutting deep into his neck narrowly missing an artery (the beast dished out another, third, critical-hit!). Another cut Kryleena, though barley grazing her. She reatliated by trying to take another slice out of the wild, hungry beast. For her attack roll, she rolled a one! Fumble! Her sword clanked off the nearby wall, breaking it in-two. Berenger produced a vial of acid (found on the pony outside) and threw it directly at the cat’s face; critical-hit! The vial failed it’s saving throw, spilling acid everywhere. This set off the little guy’s blood-lust flaw sending him into a crazed frenzy. Acid splashed all over everybody, Kroon barley made his saving throw diving adroitly out of the way, narrowly escaping death a second time! Kryleena wasn’t so lucky having a splash of burning acid corroder her armour!
Seeing the Hobbit foaming at the mouth, the two companions backed away while Berenger made mince-meat of the wounded Jaguar. Looking around to an empty room he chased after his compatriots in a blind-rage, needing to sate his thirsty sword. Soon realizing that he couldn’t catch-up his former companions with his tiny Hobbit legs, he called over his divine lackey for a task. Smashing the invisble guy in the chops with his magickal-mace, he dropped the squire in one foul swoop. Exauhsted and fatuiged wore the enraged Hobbit out eventually.
A curious pair of heads rounded the corner to see the little guy upset, babbelling prayers of forgiveness to the goddess Yollonda in the Hobbit-tounge. After resolving their differences, they set about skinning the big cat of it’s valuable pelt. To the victors, go the spoils. Old Anglyn saying and tradition. Sending the still wounded Kroon to join Jeeves outside, Berenger did what he could to recover his buddy’s wounds.
The remaining pair healed-up and made camp within the walls of the complex. In the morning (after and un-eventful night’s rest) they were greeted by a friendly looking Leprechaun, riding a Giant Butterfly. He introduced himself as Saemus O’Finnigan, curator and custodian of Quasqueton. Offering to lead this band of motley adevturers down to the (as of yet untouched) deeper dungeons. In return for an equal share of the spoils and glory, the pair made an unlikely alliance.
Showing the Hobbit and Elf the way down to the lower-levels, Saemus O’Finnigan, the Leprechaun flew down on Swift-Wing into an already opened trap-door. The dark place led to an icy pool, a natural rock formation. Securing a rope, the other two followed slowly. Berenger decided to go for a swim, have a wash and brush-up on his skill ‘Swimming: Doggie-Paddle’. After drying himself off, the untouchable-trio continued into the gloom, heading East at the T-junction. rounding a corner and going further into the natural cavern system. Rounding corners and walking through windy passageways, the party cam across a spiderweb. The strands were five-feet thick, and inside the cavern lay four giant spiders, all between eight to twelve feet in size. Luckily for our heroes, they were sleeping. As Saemus started casting a scatter-blast fireball, Kryleena followed Berenger around the corner, safley away from the blast.
The spell went off and half-a-dozen balls of fire – each ten feet across – span from Saemuses palms. They went everywhere apart from into the lair, that is apart from the last two which tore firey holes through the spiderweb, torching two of the arachnids instantly. The other two were badly cinged and started towards Saemus. Kryleena rounded the corner, nocking an arrow in her longbow sent forth a sheaf-head right into one of the spiders’ eyes.
The angered arachnids fought back, one climbing swiftly up the cavern wall, then jumping on Saemus, injecting a lethal venom. He failed his saving throw – so had to use his fate-point for this session. Another ran towards Berenger but another arrow flew true from Kryleena’s bow, killing the mythical monster.
Saemus cast a half-a-dozen magic missiles, downing another giant spider. They found several hundred electrum pieces, another couple of hundred silver, and two magick items: namely a scroll of protection from undead and an elixir of health. Saemus quickly went to work with his ‘bone-saw of optimal yields’, quickly extracting twelve poison glands from the dead spiders. Throwing four to Berenger, the party pressed on.
(Brief interruption to our batchelor party by Anna McLaughlin. Admist the untidy living-room, Maxwell used his fascinate ability by picking up his guitar. After wooing the pretty female for no more than a minute, the game resumed…)
Rounding a corner, the party saw the beginning of a light-coloured glow. In front of them stood two dopers, a pair of Californian-style surfers in tye-dye T-shirts, checking out the shimmer-moss casting rays of incandescent light. The two were fixated by the lights’ beauty. Saemus went to pat them down, nicked four ounces of pipe-weed and two gee’s of Elven stardust. In following with his alignment shift (He was Chaotic-Neutral, by now he’s incurred so many infaction points he’s Neutral-Evil) Saemus killed an innocent doper after stealing his stash. Just then something caught the Leprechaun’s eye, the shimmer moss. He failed his saving throw and stood transfixed, sharing the same fate as his late-victim. Berenger ran in to help his Evil comrade, but just then Swift-Wing the Giant Butterfly managed to Dimension Door out of danger, far from the allure of the shimmer moss. Swift Wing nearly couldn’t tear himself away from the moss but managed to get out just in time.
Berenger easily passed his saving-throw and then patted the remaining surf-dude down, stealing two ounces of weed and a futher two gee’s of Elven stardust. He soon left, Kryleena in-tow. Saemus soon re-appeared and the pair started off down another winding passageway, this time heading north. Saemus discovered a pit-trap and then tried to attach a rope to help his buddies across the twelve-foot wide hole. While doing so, several Troglodyte-Lizardmen pushed a boulder down on top of the flying Leprechaun, squashing him flat. The dozen or so reptilians watched the party with caution, Saemus recovered then sent another three magic missiles slamming into the Alpha male. Here the adventure ended for the evening.

Saemus levelled-up to level-nine thief. Berenger advanced to level four priest (Leyman) during the course of this session.

GM Log V (14th of December, 2009)

A lot has happened since I last wrote in the Grift-Meister’s campaign log. In brief, the party made their way out of the cave at Caskayton (now known as the McFinnigan brewery) and down the Slaztek river to the south-side of Snuggle Nook. Journeying into the unknown, the group came to the town of La Paix. There they met up with Osbert Torqen again, the Ogrynn Warrior. He had recently struck a bargain in Tarin, a Hobbit-Trader to guide the young merchant down the Slaztek river to the lost city of Taoteawakhan, where t’was rumoured that the streets were lined with zircons. An eventful journey took several weeks of travelling. Saemus was no-where to be seen, and rumour had it that he had gone back to the brewery to see about his staff and work there. However, as per usual he was invisible, hiding about the tree’s on his giant butterfly steed. Then, from up ahead in the distance came a loud booming sound, the earth shook and woodland trembled. The underground home-grown crew stumbled upon a nest of Mist Giants. Maud and Saemus went about picking the locks of their treasure chest. Princess Reginauld used her Cloak of Elvenkind to become invisible. Osbert used a the magick Cloak of Arachnidia to cast a Web spell, tying up the enemies; anyhow, Osbert transformed himself into the maya of a small Mist-Giant using his magick ring of Chameleon Power – oh and just for the record, the Ogyrnn martial artist had about him a Tridet of Submission aswell as the gauntlets of Wussie-Slapping. The parents of a Mist-Giant child came to investigate him, little-one in tow. While he distracted the huge monsters, Maud cleaned them out but only managed to get one of the two giant treasure chests open. The Web proved ineffective against the parent Mist-Giants who ran back to the camp to see where their treasure had gone. Then the Mist-Giant baby was snagged in the Web spell. Father Giant went back to rescue his son, while Mother Giant went to catch the thieves.
After escaping from that gigantic encounter, the crew (namely Maud, Berenger, Osbert, Saemus and the N.P.C.’s Tarin and Kryleena) made their way down the Slaztek river only to bump into a whole nest of lizardmen, Yuan-Ti and Spirit Naga’s. Osbert cast the Web using his Spider-weave Charm, then clambered on-top of the web – which covered the entire length of the river Slaztek – after that Saemus let-rip with his usual Fireball: Sidewinder (Factor IV) toasting half of the shape-shifting reptilians. The remainder split up and headed towards the party from either side of the riverbank. The young Acolyte (Berenger Baggins, the level-two priest of yollonda) was nowhere to be seen, yet Maud tried to put down some of the encroaching lizardmen with her bow. She missed twice. Osbert was rapidly surrounded by a dozen or so reptilians. Most of them were caught in the Web but a couple dared try to attack the Ogrynn. He dealt with them with ease, taking them out in one or two hits each (dealing over thirty points of damage sometimes, in a single strike!). Again Maud tried to put down some fire with her bow, this time her arrows flew true, hitting the leader in the chest and wounding him. Osbert took some more flack from the surrounding reptilians, trying to climb his magickal spider-Web with little or no success. He swatted them like flies, easy-meat. Maud was overwhelmed and had to retreat further into the jungle. It was all over with one final spell from Saemus, a Magick-Missile striking the lead Spirit Naga Hybrid and killing her.
They – as per usual – cleaned out the place of any treasure then moved swiftly on lest the few survivors go back to the encampment to raise re-enforcements. The group came across a land-slide, Saemus put everyone in his Bag of Tomes then flew across to the other side. Then some strange temporal time-rift happened (i.e. the group didn’t turn up for a couple of sessions!) before the game resumed as per normal. I decided to run an old KotDT comic adventure. {See ‘Knights of the Dinner Table’ issue number 86 ‘Hack of the Clones’ page 7, ‘Narrow Escape’}. The episode with the prophecy, the monkey’s and the sacrifice. Kreatin’s Krawl, retrieving the Lyre of Hound Slaying, etc. In short, the people wanted to kill-off the N.P.C. (I used Kryleena instead of a torch-bearer), and as soon as they realized they couldn’t waste her due to the prophecy and her fate being pivotal to that of the universe, Saemus challenged Berenger to an Honour-Duel. The winner of the contest getting to be the master of the hireling Kryleena. Berenger accepted gladly, putting himself on the line for his faithful henchman. The next week the pair began to slug it out. The little Leprechaun going on-foot sans sorciere and the still-little (though towering over Saemus by a clear foot or so!) stepping up to the plate sans shield and armour! (Which – although honourable, turned out to be a really bad move, LOL!!!) It went down like this: In the first few rounds, neither opponent managed to get the upper-hand. Bombs were exchanged but both Leprechaun and Hobbit alike missed by miles. Saemus even fumbled, as did Berenger. Then wham! Little Mister Baggins landed a right cross on Saemus the Leprechaun, sending the guy spinning about. However, Saemus was quick to reciprocate, launching a devastating barrage of bombs to his face and body. The Hobbit flagged under the assault, then fumbled again! This time he broke his right-fist after a punch went wrong. Saemus easily felled the Hobbit with a combination punch. Berenger didn’t stop their though, he immediately rose to his feet again then began a fresh attack, working the Leprechaun on the head and body. Neither seemed to be gaining any ground whatsoever, nor doing any significant damage either! Then Saemus kept his barrage of bombs going, getting his ‘evil-on’ and b!tch-slapping Berenger once more. Who, by this time had broken both his wrists punching the Leprechaun-dude.
Trying a different tack, Berenger suddenly bundled Saemus, wrestling with him in the dirt. Shouts of “Go on son!” from the N.P.C. crowd as well as whistles of annoyance from others rooting for the party-leader Saemus O’Finnigan. Though Berenger took a slight dent to his honour, bundling the little-guy like that, he had little or no choice, what with him being beaten up so badly and sore. Saemus once again reciprocated by doing some wrestling manoeuvres of his own! Then, breaking off after a few rounds in leg-locks and boston-crabs, Saemus delivered yet another knock-out blow! Berenger was down, a second time! Relinquishing control of his hireling to the better man, the two shook hands and Saemus swiftly tied-up Kryleena for nicking his stuff, made a cage for her and then placed her in his Bag of Many Tomes for later. The evil (yet seemingly innocuous) Leprechaun had won the battle, but not yet the war…
After completing the quest, the underground home-grown crew stumbled across the mouth of a cave, pronounced within the basin of the dormant volcano they camped in. Inside lay a sleeping iron-dragon, not young, not old but somewhat venerable. (Please note that Tarin was ‘the sacrifice’ during the adventure, thus was not here then); Making haste, Berenger Baggins dived head-first into the Bag of Many Tomes! Saemus was silent and invisible, Maud used her Cloak of Elvenkind to disguise herself but failed her Move Silently check. The male Iron-Dragon awoke, seeking out the source of the disturbance. Saemus wasted no time at all by blasting it with as many Scatter-Blast Fireball spells as he could. He even used charges on his Wand of Phantasmal Fireballs to best the beast! Osbert waded in their, taking chunks out of the thing with his magickal giant-sized sword! Maud fired as many arrows as she could into it, they mainly bounced off of his thick dragon-skin hide. Meanwhile, Berenger was using his Summon Divine Lackey spell and also summoning a Dust Devil from inside the sanctuary of the magick Bag of Many Tomes. In between doing this he sat sipping brandy from the decanters within the void-space. Though he could hear the peaceful sound of violins playing classical music, warm by the fireside in the comfy chairs, the Hobbit Priest of yollonda knew that outside this supposed sanctuary all hell was breaking loose. The dragon breathed his breath-weapon, toasting the entire party, nearly killing everybody. Somehow all of the items survived in-tact (in all the excitement I forgot to roll item-saves, I’ll admit this for I am not a computer but only human!). Then, one more blast from Saemuses spell arsenal meant the giant beast slumped down deader than justice for the common man! Popping his head out of the bag (after slipping Kryleena a nail-file!), Berenger checked for the all-clear. Waited for Saemus to land, then stepped back out of the bag. The crew went about taking the treasure horde, finding all manner of things wondrous, valuable and precious. In addition to that, the Bonesaw of Optimal Yields found that each of the pieces of the Iron-Dragon were highly magickal. Saemus ate the brain and invested the dragon’s power into his own (despite the risk of death in doing so!). The others crafted items out of the skin and organs, the underground home-grown crew also stockpiled the dragon’s blood for use in writing scrolls. They even stole the baby dragon’s eggs!!!
After escaping the dragon’s lair, the party made camp and celebrated far from the madding scene of burning devastation – that was the site of the battle. Mead was passed and everyone made-merry. Revelling in the new-found riches that was theirs to have. Meanwhile, Kryleena whispered a ‘sssh’ to the unseen servant in the Bag of Many Tomes who sympathized with the captive outlaw. She quietly filed away the padlock on her cage, keeping a keen eye out for anyone entering the pocket-void.
Then came the flap of wings. A loud ‘whoop whoop whoop!’. Mummy dragon was not happy… She returned to her lair to find her mate slaughtered, her unborn children stolen, along with all their worldly goods. She let out a cry of absolute terror then rose again into the sky, seeking out the party. Mummy-dragon is a ancient green-dragon, she also had her young son in tow. He guarded the remnants of his fathers body within the lair while the venerable matriarch sought out vengeance. She cast a mind-altering spell on Berenger who began to walk towards her. Saemus melded into a tree and dimensionedoor’d the hell out of there. Maud cowered under her Cloak of Elvenkind. Everybody that could, ran for safety. Though, in truth, nowhere was truly safe from the wrath of a vengeful mother dragon. Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn…
Then a troupe of Hill Giants entered the cave where the young son was and started to lob rocks at the young dragon, wounding him severely. This bought our ‘heroes’ enough time to escape. Maud ran to Berenger and tried to snap him out of the magickal trance. He was felling a tree with Saemus in with a stray axe! Then the Princess escaped due to some quick thinking: she bundled everybody into the Bag of Many Tomes then saddled-up. The mother-superior dragon bared down on the group, after dispatching the Hill Giants quickly, but Princess Maud Reginauld the Half-Wood Elf B45T4RD child, second in-line to the throne of the Fernwick Isle, was an expert horse-rider. Her equestrian skills managed to just out-manoeuvre the angry green dragon. (Their movement rates were the same, 300 yards every six seconds, so Maud made several successive riding – land based – checks at ‘difficult’ in order to outrun the beast!). Saving the entire party, she bundled everyone into a cave in a narrow mountain pass, after riding through a village, terrifying the populants with a massive green dragon on her ass!
The lady dragon tried to bite chunks out of the cave, the crew tried taunting it some more when it’s mouth was near them. As the giant mother was about to breathe poison-breath once more, they retreated further into the cave complex. There they came across a group of svirblernien gnomish-inventors. They were constructing some sort of airship. Before anyone knew what was happening the beaten-up baby dragon came down the air-hole that was to serve as a launch pad for the airship. Berenger cast White Hot Metal on the fixtures, the ropes, wicker and canvas failed their saving throws and the airship went up like the hindenberg! The baby dragon was engulfed in flames. Maud fired shots into the beast as it flew down to attack the two remaining people. (By this time Saemuses Ring of Quick Escapes had inadvertently been activated thus teleporting him to relative safety.) Gnomes ran for their lives everywhere! Berenger tried to bring down the dragon with a rock from the dungeon floor. It struck home but wasn’t enough to kill the baby beast! Maud let fly another shot but not before the two were engulfed by poison gas breath! Her arrow struck the beast in the heart but it kept on coming, diving and shrieking in a frenzy it slammed into the Half-Elven Princess nearly killing her outright! (She used her ‘fate-point’ or ‘mulligan’ as it’s known, for this session). Anyway, Berenger used another rock this time, it struck the baby-dragon in the eye-socket, killing him outright!
Immediately Maud began to eat the brains. She died as a result. Berenger even used his ‘fate-point’ to try and save her, purging 90% of his honour in doing so. Then she rolled the 85% chance she needed to survive, alas, no! Two fails in a row. She was a goner, bought the farm, outta there, toast. Unlucky Maud. The story continues…
(Time constraints mean I’m writing this really fast!!) In essence, Berenger journeyed on, met the Gnomes, who asked for the tools to their airship back, our Hobbit-Priest protagonist had ‘acquired’; along with their ‘Hammer of Thor’ Mijolneer. Yet when he explained to them (through actions and hand gestures, as they didn’t speak the same language) that he had bested the dragon, they allowed him to keep their things, and even showed him a way out of the caverns. On his way he met an old man with a poorly daughter. The Priest of yollonda healed her then was shown the way out to Su’Checks Monastery where he learned some new skills.
In the meantime, Saemus met Chalomite, a drow-elf dark-priestess of the drow warriors. They became partners in crime for the moment. Stumbled across a mystic called ‘Old Mother Crumhorn’ from Marienburgh. She recognised the gypsy purse Saemus carried as being of her own creation, after giving the group a foretelling, a portent into the future. (See Prophecy below). She also sold Saemus a Crystal Ball and Gem of True Sight before getting mediaeval on his ass. Releasing blackie the crow (which actually was a daemon) from his cage. Worgs surrounded the gypsy encampment and the sky lit up with magickal energy as wizard and daemon fought it out in a magickal spell-duel! Chalomite fended off the attacks while Old Mother Crumhorne cast Otiluke’s resilient sphere. Saemus blasted the daemon with spells. It slammed into him, fumbled, the daemons trousers came down but he was un-phased as the two flew about each other in a deadly dance. The level one drow (formerly Maud, now Chalomite) was having trouble dispatching the seven Worgs on her own!! In a mEnTaL fight Seamus nearly killed the daemon who flew back to his mistress for sanctuary. Luckily Saemuses Giant-Butterfly killed him! They managed to escape the Worgs, Saemus ate the daemons brains after bartering for the body from Old Mother Crumhorn, who figured he bested a major devil so could cross her palm with silver and have the dead arcane-daemons brains for dinner. The leprechaun didn’t die as a result but levelled up in both his classes!
Meanwhile, Berenger journeyed back to the temple of yollonda. It took him weeks to make the 250 mile long journey across land to Murkwood, then another 250 miles or so across the sea. Along the way he encountered a Gnome Doom Lord (coincidentally the chieftain of the Svirblernien he had previously met). He was a good guy and spoke common. They parted ways amicably. He also went to meet Kryleena at the temple of Poseidon in Murkwood. Saemuses gang were hot on the trail, surrounded the temple and waited until nightfall. Berenger tried to cast Hold Person with an improvised spell component then caused a wild-surge, making him have amnesia for a day! Thus forgetting all his spells, or even what an earth was going on! Eventually the clerics were bothered with Berenger and Kryleena over-staying their welcome inside the temple over-night so they showed them a secret tunnel in which to escape the goons waiting outside to ambush them!
Little did they know the couple were being shadowed as Flitter Fernwise the alcoholic pixie-fae (now in the service of the McFinnigan brewery) was silent and invisible, trailing them to their campsite outside the city. They waited until lunch (until the amnesia had worn off!) then booked a passage for the Ginge Pirate states on a man o’war heading north. Several of the McFinnigan gang masqueraded as crew…
They encountered some 15 foot long sea-lions and burned them off the port, starboard sides, also the aft and the stern of the ship: with flaming-oil, greek-fire. Between the sea-lions claws and burning fire, the Mary-Jane began taking on water. The crew hastily repaired it. With favourable wind the seventy foot vessel the Mary-Jane headed due north from Murkwood to it’s destination before encountering a 500-foot long ancient sea monster! Berenger wasn’t taken unawares and the team frantically tried to cut-loose the life-boat. Sailors dived overboard everywhere, trying to flee the terrifying monstrosity! He escaped in the nick of time, uncovering a stow-away, Flitter Fernwise. He cast Hold Person as she tried to escape, then attempted to cure her alcoholism with a Shock Therapy spell but rolled critical damage killing her outright! (It’s okay, pixie-fae come back in a matter of months, providing she finds a re-birth mother, anyhow). The ship’s best mate, ‘Jack the Lad’ a red-haired human – Anglyn; has entered into the service of yollonda after the group make preparations for an impending attack from the McFinnigan gang in approximately one months time.

Meanwhile…. Old Mother Crumhorn peered into her crystal ball and spoke:

“Your future love’s diminished in puissance*, brought back to life, live, breath once more,
A line of royal kinship Faerie-Isle, wet-work, regicide, dark to the core,
Yet Kryleena’s destined to burn or dunce, so silent stillness’ arretting assault,
For sanctuary claimed by Elven-slave, caused townsfolk to take arms and revolt,
Danger lays ahead Shaemus, the trap is set with hedgehogs hide,
Be wary ye, dark forces wait, across the sea, brought with the tide,
I warn you Eire-born, heir to the throne, if offered olive-branch of peace,
Take-not that bloody path ye tread, lest ambush eats you and butterfly beast…
Be happy with your bride…”

Written by Grift-Meister Maxwell Lewis Latham

Moonday the 14th of December, 2009

Thorsday the Seventeenth of December, the year of our Lord Two-Thousand and Nine Anno Dominii at precisely 7:00 P.M. Greenwich Mean time, finished at ten-minutes past the witching hour.

Grift-Meister Maxen the Anglo-Saxon’s Campaign Log.
The Party
As They Stand
Saemus O’Finnigan [Muti-Classed] Leprechaun (Played by “O’Leary”):
10th Level Mage {‘Necromancer’}/11th Level Thief {Robber} (Neutral-Evil)
Berenger Baggins (“Baked”): Hobbit, 7th Level Priest of the yollonda {Curator}
[Hobbit gawdess of fertility and protection] (Chaotic-Good) and last (but not least)…
Chalomite Do’urden (“She-Ra”) Drow, 2nd Level Dark-Priestess of selvetarm {Acolyte}
[Drow gawd of Dark-Elf Warriors] (Neutral-Evil)

The Story so far…

After following the advise of an old witch-woman (namely Old Mother Crumhorne), the duo of Saemus O’Finnigan and Chalomite Do’Urden make their way in search of the renegade hireling [N.P.C.] Kryleena (Elven Outlaw), who had stolen some scrolls from Saemuses Bag of Many Tomes before being re-captured, imprisoned once more, fought over, then escaped, carrying the body of Maud Reginauld (A late P.C. of She-Ras) to be restored back to life; albeit with a Diminished Rite spell.

What happened next. After setting off hot on the trail of the outlaw Kryleena and Priest Berenger, the McFinnigan hoodlums relay information back and forth as to the whereabouts of the wanted exiles. The trail leading them to the maritime town of Murkwood in the region of Buckhollow, a small coastal town amidst the Kingdom of Aran’Kandeesh. Chartering a ride on the ship called Sweet Mary Jane, bound for the Emirate of Fra’Neer, the Dinge States. Saemus places everyone into his Bag of Many Tomes and only pays the one fair, a modest sum of only four-hundred gold pieces. Along the way they encounter the very same pack of sea-lions (the fifteen-foot variety) who are easily dispatched by the Leprechauns lightning-bolt. Then, a few days later, the same monster of the deep, a five-hundred foot long gigantic serpent engulfs the ship and crew. The captain who escaped this very fishes fate the last time around, loosing his old ship the Mary Jane has to endure a similar fate. The monster breathed out a gas cloud of breath-weapon nearly killing the little leprechaun who only just evaded the deadly noxious fumes bellowing forth from the monsters maw. Lancing a couple of charges of his Wand of Phantasamal Fireballs, Saemus the lucky-Leprecahaun hits it for fifty damage, unfortunatly the Sea-Monster made his saving throw (vs. death to avoid being killed outright by huge amounts of damage – 50 in the case of H4CKM45T3R) and so, the behemouth, after constricting the ship the Sweet Mary Jane and eating most of the crew, she went back under the deep. Saemus flied the rest of the way there, being shot-at by sixty-odd Merfolk, twenty of them attempting to pepper him with harpoons and crossbows on the way, without any success I might add.
To the town of Draycove, Saemus and Chalomite scoped out the area, alone with no gang, just the two of them, spells prepped and ready for a fight. An emissary from inside the temple of yollonda came out, and after suggesting a comprimise, information being relayed back and forth to Berenger and the N.P.C. Kryleena inside, a plea-bargain was struck. Seeing as Leprechauns strictly speaking can’t reproduce, he was to make a donation to the church and promise to have no-harm befall Kryleena in exchange for a blessing from the fertility gawdess (namely yollonda) on a full-moon, after being wed, the ground consectrated beforehand and consumating the marriage of Leprechaun and ½-Elf player characters (Maud and Saemus) near the coast at the appointed time according to the stars. No-one realised at this point that a Restoration spell was not available, thus after a speedy ceremony, the two characters went for it, hammer and tongs. Being as we calculated only 36 rounds (three minutes or so) for the blessing to last, Saemus failed his willpower save, Maud concieved a child (unknown gender so far). Seeing as Maud had effectivly dropped down a whole four levels meant her stats had decreased accordinly the first-born wouldn’t be hot on her side as far as the gene-pool method of character creation, the protegy P.P.C. (Potential Player Character) in case one of them should get waxed. Anyway, the 845T4RD daughter and royal – Maud – coupling with Saemus plan on having a big family, so there are any more little McFinnigans running around. Hopefully Maud may be fully restored by then…
This nightmare campaign with players being at each others throats over N.P.C.’s had come to an end after Berenger agreed to Saemuses terms of keeping ‘lead in his pencil’ by adding another section to the McFinnigan Clan Brewery – for Potions of Bless and fertility gawdess Bless-scrolls. The impending train-wreck of my adventure was salvaged through reasoning and comprimise (phew!).
On with the scenario, alas, the group heard rumours of a cave, then Kryleena spotted the entrance. After casting Find Traps Berenger detected a lightning-bolt trap on the door. Chalomite nearly managed to get everybody toasted if it wasn’t for Mr. Bagginses swift warning. Saemus rolled a critical-success (02 on the percentile, blatantly) on his remove traps and found two lightning-bolt traps to be recovered.
A short way down the tunnel the group encountered a two Ethereal-Lammasu (one of each kind). They asked the posse a riddle, they each failed to awnser it, thus enraging the spectral Lammasus. (Saemus was out getting tea, and seeing as he is invisble all the time, I ruled they coulldn’t see him, nor hear him with his flutter ability, means I let the 3rd try to the others that were there, namely Cal’ and Berenger). A fight ensued. The battle was brief as another shot from Saemuses Wand of Phantasmal Fireballs (down to only four charges remaining now!) did a shed-load of damage to the lesser Lammasu, leaving him on five hit points! Pleading for his mates life, the two groups talked about it, stopped fighting and even ended up traded some items. Before leaving Saemus asked if they knew anything of what might be down the tunnel, the Lammasu didn’t know. The underground home-grown crew went on their way. The tunnel split in two. Chalomites keen Elven vision saw the left fork heading to a chasm, stockade and stalagtites over a dark ominous pit. To the right it sloped downwards futher, into the gloom. A slight wind brushed passed everybody as they made their way towards the rickety stockade.
It bore a sign, written in blood on a big piece of bone, Chalomite rubbed herself against it for some bizzare reason, the darkness perhaps, the blood (though not fresh, but old, dried and crusted) maybe. Weird man. The toll collection box fell-down spilling coins everywhere. Saemus the Wizard felt an ominous disturbance, although the party had detected no obvious traps something odd was with this crossing. He paid a gold piece on to the pile then crossed without any trouble. Berenger (who I might add was strapped for cash) started scooping up the coins and then ordered his invisible Divine Lackey across. The rope-bridge snapped in two and the Divine Lackey was no more, falling several hundred yards to his doom.
Berenger wasted no time in downing a flying potion, carrying Chalomite [Cal’], he flew across the bridge. Suddenly the stalagtites became animated (Piecers) and started falling down on top of the Priest. He was struck twice for thirty or so points of damage, never once dropping Cal’ and making it across. Saemus flew back, unharmed, replaced the thirty gold Berenger had stolen, then paying two more Gold Pieces, then put Kryleena the N.P.C. outlaw in his sack and flew on Shifty – his giant butterfly back across the chasm.
Beyond this, down the next tunnel the party could see a huge creature. It turned and stared at Kryleena (the warrioress, leading the party at this point). She was instantly turned to stone for t’was a Greater Basilisk! Saemus hammered it with spells, as did the others and between them all the underground home-grown posse slammed it for sixty-odd points of damage in a single round! After a team-effort the party waxed it, routed through it’s treasure horde finding: some Chainmail + 2, a cursed Ring of Deliberation and a suit of Brigandine + 3, some other, a scroll of protection from Breath Weapons, also a suit of Splint Mail + 3. All the armour found was regular Human/Elf size* (see footnote below).
The next encounter further on down the tunnel was with some Arcane Bats and an ancient Iron-Dragon. (Again! Perhaps I’ve been reading too much Knights of the Dinner Table for this whole thang was made up on the flex, par moi). The party tried to negociate (Cal’ is still only 2nd level at this point!) then the ancient wyrm shook them down for a few magick items, kindly replenished thirteen charges on Saemuses Wand of Phantasamal Fireballs. Anyhow; getting’ on, we, (the royal we) that is to say: they, the posse, decided to leave Old Rog-Gut the Iron-Dragon to his own devices, venturing forth down into the deeper dungeons. It should be good, I’ll keep y’all posted, fa’ shoow.
All in all everybody gained a shed-load of experience points. We hadn’t been using the rules for only one level-up per session (they earned it so, why not level up, as Valraven says: (One of) “the best part of Fantasy Role-playing Games is not just creating new characters, but levelling them up. She-Ra had the chance to run her older, more powerful (albeit a shadow of her former-self as a result of the Diminished Rites spell).

Here’s the party as they stand now:

Saemus O’Finnigan [Muti-Classed] Leprechaun (Played by “O’Leary”):
11th Level Mage {Wizard}/12th Level Thief {Master Treasure Hunter} (Neutral-Evil)
Berenger Baggins (“Baked”): Hobbit, 7th Level Priest of the yollonda {Curator}
[Hobbit gawdess of fertility and protection] (Chaotic-Good) and last (but not least)…
Chalomite Do’urden (“She-Ra”) Drow, 5th Level Dark-Priestess of selvetarm {Adept}
[Drow gawd of Dark-Elf Warriors] (Neutral-Evil)

  • (I use the the world of Titan/Allansia (Fighting Fantasy) or J.R.R. Tolkien’s style elves, ancient, archaic and native to Anglyn. English Elves. Not the ‘Peter Pansy’, late Michael Jackson ‘Neverland Ranch’ style elves as described by the late Gary Gygax, along with Dave Arneson, the co-founders of Dungeons & Dragons, role-playing as we know it to this very day. I prefer the Steve Jackson, Ian Livingstone and Double-R Tolkien English Elves of Allansia and Middle-Earth. Taller than humans, more slender. In my world of Tadisaga, the majority of Elves are Wood Elves, and even they are spread far and thinly, ever endangered, rare creatures. Although I hasten to add the players may field any type of Elf in this, the Snuggle-Nook campaign.

Grift-Meisters Campaign Log – Christmas Eve, the year of our Lord Two-Thousand and Nine, Anno Dominii

After following a trail and a tunnel, down beyond the town of Frahneer, near Berengers temple of yollonda, the home-grown house moved up beyond the pail of the couple of Lammasu, Greater Basilisk (now six-feet under) and the Guardian Iron-Dragon (which turned out to be a Gnome Illusionist), anyway, Chalomite, Saemus and Berenger descended the depths, encountering a lone Gnome-Titan Beserker. Saemus became visibile, shimmering into reality, hailing his long lost friend in broken Gnomish. Garag barely acknowledged his old friend, letting out a low growl that signified that these folks weren’t would-be enemies. So, the four of them ventured forth down into the dungeons deeper levels.

Chalomite noticed another four, spectral figures, up ahead in the distance. Her Sixth-Sense and keen elven senses detected something lurking in the darkness ahead. Garag Tog (the Gnome-Titan RageMaster) drew his sword and walked slowly towards the gloom. A shriek of incandescent fire, and some raised eye-brows as if to say “What a surprise!”, Saemus let rip with his Wand of Phatasamal-Fireballs, cinging the Pseudo-Spectres. From Chalomite’s description of these creatures Berenger was able to attempt and turn (away) the undead, he wasn’t to know they were false, and this merely re-inforced Saemuses belief that all Undead are not real. Chalomite waded in with her magick Long-Sword and scored a (severity level seven) critical hit {Natural-Twenny! WooHoo!} smashing one of the twelve-feet spectral giants. Then Saemus slammed them with another spell, this time casting his usual Fireball Sidewinder Factor IV – which incidentally is similiar to the ‘Skipping Betty’ variant, gawd I like H4CKM45T3R, gawd bless Gary Gygax (a.k.a. Colonel Play-Doh). Anyhow, back to the adventure. In a nutshell, it’s late and I’m pretty baked right now, it’s only 9:45PM Greenwich Meantime, but man am I toasted. So. (Monty Python & the Holy-Grail Get ON with it!!) Alas, they found some four-thousand or so Gold Pieces, Garag stumbled across The Gnomish Sword of Battle Sense (a + 4 variant, number eighteen), Berenger – a Staff of Curing, and Chalomite a Elven Cloak (Same effectivness as a Drow item, i.e. – 20%, but doesn’t perish with the coming dawn).

Next thing you know the Home-Grown Crew sprung upon a half-a-dozen Centaur Ants, not initially hostile. Saemus gave the order to hold fire (earning him an alignment-shift infraction point towards good), then whatever good he may’ve done, was quickly negated by the notion of immediately attacking the innocent mythical creatures, just idly going about their business. Blam Blam Blam! Another Fireball Sidewinder (Factor IV) and the Centaur-Ants were down to roughly half their hit points, then Berenger cast ‘Cause Serious Wounds’ inflicting a shed-load of damage on one of the Ant-Centaurs bringing him down. (As it’s Christmas we’re all getting double X.P. for wasting enemies, a time of giving). Anyway, Saemus let out another blast of fire waxing Chalomite (who failed three consecutive rolls, her’s and Garag’s mulligan for the session!) alas, Berenger only just made it out alive, yelling out in the Hobbit tounge, “Would you stop burning everybody?!”. The young (56 years old) Hobbit picked up the charred and burned body, that which remained of Chalomite Do’Urden (after she was no longer on fire, naturally) and placed her ceremoniously in the Bag of Holding. No doubt she qualified for the Experience-Point bonus for ‘Most Awesome Character Death!’, awarded Post-Humulously. The team then stowed away the treasure (only six Centaur-Ant shells, used to be enchanted or flixible light-weight armour A.C.4). Saying goodbye to the Lammasu and passing the stone statue of the inanimate Kryleena. (Wasted by the now dead Greater Basilisk) Testament to the foray that had gone-on in tha last session. Anyway, I digress once more.

Saying a friendly hello to the two Lammasu guarding the Entrance, the party had an un-eventful stroll back into the town of Frahneer. Resting up at the temple, hooking up with Maud (who ‘Muffin’ is now playing seeing as Chalomite was toast at the hands of another player, namely the infamous Saemus!) Berenger healed everybody, cast Minor Raise Dead on Chalomite, who was an N.P.C. The church of Yollonda sent forth righteous Priests to cast Restoration of Princess Maud Reginaule. She was back on full-form: eight level again. The Leprechaun Wizard managed to write some spells into his library half-a-dozen or so during teh course of this un-eventful journey. The Eire-borne Mage-Thief also successfully researched Dimension Door in this time.

Saemus booked passage on the Mary Jane III, capt’n Aehab set sail for another deathtrap voyage ‘cross the ocean waves, back to the town of Murkwood, near Praxter. This journey two was un-eventful and Garag started feeling the effects of the ’Lack of Hack’ table, losing a hit-point for the now. More travel, more sunny days and not a creature in sight. Until, that is, they came across the entrance they had heard rumors of in a Tavern, not far from here.

Saemus, scouting, invisible and silent tried setting fire to on of the torches on the wall of an L-shaped chamber, large in size, huge, with giant-sized tables strewn about, and a Giant with spectacles, painting on a massive canvas in one corner of the room. Kijneer, the Hill giant artist, noticed the blaze, and the footprints in the dusty floor and went to swipe Saemus, who fluttered up to the air-vent the rest of the crew were hiding in. Raisig the alarm and summoning another Hill-Giant, also a pair of Bugbears and Carniverous Apes. They assembeld at the base of the hole, oragnising climbing gear, ropes, pitons and standing on the giant’s shoulders he two pairs of bugbears and carniverous apes clambered up towards the crew. Berenger cast White Hot Metal and cinged one of the ropes, sending two Bugbears falling to the floor for 2D6 worth of falling-damage each. After that a Saemus let-rip again with his Phantasamal Fireball magick wand, toasting the Bug-Bears and Man-eating Apes but not before Maud stuck-home with her bow, nailing one of the Bugbears. An Carniverous-Ape took a swing at Garag, who was sent into a Frenzy. Hurling himself down from the vent, he slammed into a Hill-Giant swinging his Gnomish Sword of Battle-Sense (+ 4) and taking a hefty chunk out of the massive giant.. Berenger swung at an Ape, then we held the action their.

Nobody levelled-up except Garag Tog, our Gnome-Titan Beserker.

by Maxen » Mon Jan 18, 2010 2:07 am
Whilst sleeping on the deck of their ship, our intrepid band of adventurers (namely Maud McFinnigan & Berenger Baggins) were set upon by the army of Sanguin, Spite-Sprites and Giant-Octopii. The Sprites peppered Berenger & Maud with sleep-arrows who both failed their saving throws versus poison. Being dragged aboard the Wraith, the underground home-grown crew were taken into the impending bondage, with little or no trouble. Berenger was muzzled so he couldn’t cast spells. However the Capt’n was compassionate with the Priest Berenger for having helped him fight the Octogorgon; he then handing him a pouch containing the following items: a small rusty dagger, a nail-file, a Potion of Healing, 10 Gold-pieces, a ruby gemstone (worth 500Gp), a tinderbox, a key (for the hand-manacles) and last but not least, a note. Written on the note in the common tongue were the words, “Capriol the Swinger – see him.”.
At this point the duo were dragged on-deck with the Capt’n lording it over them. (I played this scene for all that it was worth!) He would take swigs of random potions, handing them out to his crew (12 Ghouls, 7 Human Thugs and a few commanders). Then he would test out items, having the Sanguin Priests inspect them for magickal energy. Items that were cursed or only usable by good alignment were the first to go overboard (however the Hammock of Restful Sleep and Blanket of Animal-Rapport slipped the net as it specifically stated in their description that they seemed like mundane ordinary items).
Then ‘Baked’ (The player running Berenger) exclaimed, “He can’t use my magickal mace, it was a family heirloom and signature item.” Alas, the Capt’n threw it overboard. Hehehehe.
Then the two were bound to the oars, suffering horrible scarring that branded her majesty Maud and the pious Hobbit for the rest of their days. Berenger found himself next to a quiet man who was willing to partake in any escape attempts. Maud, rowing next to a guy who although was more open and talkative, he couldn’t think for himself and ran short of ideas for escape. He was however willing to participate in any chance to get away.
Before long the pair began to tire, feeling the effects of fatigue, malnourishment and being occasionally whipped. The daily routine set-in of getting up at five (after being manacled to chains, sleeping either on benches below-deck or just on the top of the deck). Then breakfast, a spartan fare of gruel. While awake in the early morning Berenger started to pray. Taking advantage of when the guards were away, he unlocked his manacles, removed his muzzle and started memorizing spells. (G.M. note: Although originally I was vehemently opposed to him doing this, I did roll for the guard wandering off as in the adventure, and ‘Baked’ made a very convincing argument!) As soon as the guard returned, Berenger cast Cause Fear, making the over-seer run screaming for his life. At this the other prisoners yelped “Take me! Free me!”, he told them to pipe down or he’ll cast some their way. It worked, not another word out of the others. The tiny Hobbit desperately tried to file away his shackles and the minute he heard the guards returning, quickly re-locked his manacles after affixing the muzzle back on. The entire group was interrogated and thrashed, no-one spilt the beans for fear of reprisals.
That day a storm hit the ship, Berenger was one of the few asked to bail water, man the pumps in the ships bilge. Under the careful eye of the slavers, he didn’t try any more escape attempts, though tempted he managed to resist the temptation, awaiting a better opportunity in the future (he was being watched by three thugs).
Meanwhile, Maud was rowing next to a dodgy-geezer. This black-market slave offered services such as arranging special duties (such as being a food or water server), better food, mistreating another slave, a change of clothing, more time on deck, smuggling in a small-knife, a drug that feigns death or to be moved to another bench. Although flattered by this mans attention, and in desperate need of a new outfit, Maud couldn’t bring herself down to this flutsoms standards. The princess left with her honour and virtue in-tact.
As the dodgy-seller was making indecent suggestions and advances towards her highness, a feignt shimmer appeared from out of nowhere. The black-market mans manacles started to heat-up under Saemus’ White Hot Metal spell. Screams of agony filled the hold and many guards were summoned. Making a quick exit, he managed to mouth “I will return for you my lover, I promise.” In the Elven tongue. Alas the Spite-Sprites were hot on his tail after he made a quick escape, casting a Dimension Door spell to get away.
After barley surviving a grueling voyage, the Wraith pulled in to the coastal town of Ruark. During the unloading of cargo, the slavers guard was lax, enabling the Berenger to make a quick escape. He thanked the renegade for his aid, though unsure of his motivation, yet just before leaving he slipped him a bag with the majority of his equipment inside (everything not too big, and certainly nothing obviously magickal!) He slipped Maud the nail-file and headed out in to the woods. Maud, who rendezvoused with the invisible shadowing Saemus. When the three were together, they began to formulate a plan to get their stolen equipment back. “5crew that!”, replied Berenger, happy with escaping with his life, he took off in to the woods, striking out on his own.
About a day later he was walking down the track and met a fellow friendly Hobbit who told him some rumours about the slave-lords in the area. Later on that day, the Hobbit Priest was set-upon by a dozen Crouching Hoppers (a.k.a. Mini-Raptors). After throwing a rock at them, missing, throwing another, still missing, then attacking them with his newly fashioned quarterstaff. The little-guy fumbled and the Crouching Hoppers closed in for the kill. Disaster seemed inevitable until Shifty the Butterfly arrived. (Please note that in previous posts I labeled the giant-butterfly steed “Swift-Wing” wrongly, though we still call him that sometime, Saemus dubbed his mount “Shifty”)
The Giant Butterfly came to Berengers aid (who took another six attacks of opportunity for his trouble, down to less than ten H.P. now) then the two Dimension Door’d outta there. Before doing so however, Shifty asked Berenger telepathically to help him find Saemus, the little guy projected a mental-image of the Leprechaun’s whereabouts. As soon as he had done so, Shifty teleported back to the Wraith, much to Berenger’s dismay!
The fight was in full swing upon arrival. Maud was putting down some fire from a newly found shortbow, Saemus was using his invisibility to go for the back-stab for once. Berenger cast Silence 15’ radius on the Sanguin Priests, messing their ability to cast verbal spells up (all cleric spells are verbal seemingly). The Shifty deposited the Hobbit in the ships crows nest. Saemus went to work trying to find the royal stash of items about the ships crew-members, without any luck. Getting annoyed at not finding anything, he cast Phantasmal Fireball, waxing nearly the entire crew! The only people to escape un-scathed were the Spite-Sprites, the Capt’n and the First-Mate (who was down to 1 H.P. by now!).
Berenger cast Hold People on the Spite-Sprites, four were hit, two fell into the ocean and drowned, another hit the deck taking damage and they all fled the field, failing a morale check.
The wounded yet determined Capt’n climbed the rigging to get at Berenger, taking a swipe at Berenger, he fumbled! His armour came loose. Berenger threw a vial of acid down at the First-mate killing him outright. Then the Capt’n took another swipe at Berenger, who although had provoked an attack of opportunity for using missile weapons in melee combat, the unlucky Capt’n fumbled again, this time losing his shield, and barley being able to keep hold of the rigging! He then failed a morale check. Saemus took him down with a Magick-Missile: Sidewinder as he tried to flee.
So, the home-grown crew did good. Liberating the Wraith they set about dropping anchor and scouring the place for treasure, finding a shed-load by the way! Moored about half a mile from the town, they could see through a telescope that crowds had begun to gather in Ruark, watching the display of magick and seeing these slavers thoroughly bested.
Saemus guarded the ship, while Maud and Berenger rowed ashore in two of the life-boats on board. They began a recruitment drive for potential crew-members. After turning away a few unacceptable candidates (namely rival slavers) they managed to get a motley number of eight suitable crewmen. They agreed to pay them 10Gp per month, approximately triple the going-rate!
Upon returning to the Wraith, the crew had some well needed rest. However their sleep was interrupted as a small boat neared their ship. On board were some more slavers asking for help in ousting a rival slaver faction. In the office, Berenger told them firmly “No” and slammed the door in their face. Quite right too. The newly appointed captain of the ship had had his fill of slavers for one day.
The next visit was by a dignitary of the town. Asking an audience with the mayor to discuss mooring fees. Berenger agreed, taking Maud with him, as well as three crew members, including ‘Slaine’ the Level Five Half-Orc Barbarian. While Saemus held the fort and kept the remaining crew in-line, a deity turned up, hiddukel – the Prince of Lies. Taking the Leprechaun under duress to the Abyss to begin his trial. There he would face the gawds of Krynn and be asked to convert to hiddukel, in doing so becoming a demi-gawd under his control, or, more likely, get his ass kicked. Perhaps even visa-versa, but that is highly unlikely – more of that next session write-up!
Meeting in a tavern, Maud and Berenger began to hammer out the terms of the fee. Using his diplomacy skill, the Hobbit managed to re-negotiate the standard rate of ten Gp a day, down to nine. Shaking hands the mayor left, and just as soon as he had done so a group of rowdy thugs entered the bar. They drank heavily and spoke of heinous deeds done. One of their number staggered over to Berenger, taking a swipe at the little feller. Berenger had none of it, using his ‘Bar-room Brawler’ skill to wrap a chair around the thugs head saying, “Stitch that Jimmy!” in typical Hobbit fashion. Well, sort of.
Then one of the gang (a Wizard) cast a Web spell, snaring almost everyone, including his mate who had tried to hit Berenger. (G.M. note, this is a bit naughty as it said he only had certain spells memorized in the adventure, I made an exception or t’would have been too easy for them). One of Berengers henchmen, cut him free. Meanwhile, some of the thugs slipped into the shadows. Three of them were still visible and were caught by another Hold People spell. The remaining two, failed their back-stab attempts and once again were Held by Berenger. Then the town-watch arrived, but not before the Hobbit and Maud were able to relieve the gang of a couple of magickal items. They were asked to accompany the guards to the station to make a statement, but the watch were on the whole, thankful that the crew had managed to tie them up, offering them a 500Gp reward, plsu reimbursing the money for the silk rope they’d used to tie them up. Once back at the guard house, the mayor of Ruark entered. Bereneger said, “Now, about that mooring fee…”
The party were wandering town and managed to track down a man called Faedor, who helped them find the secret entrance to the slave-lords lair, at the back of the Temple of pan. The mayor once again summoned them, charging them with a mission to rid the town of the slave-lords once and for all. Here endeth today’s session. Max-out.

G.M.’s Log Written at 6:00 A.M. Greenwich Meantime, in the year of our Lord Hey-zeus, two-thousand and ten, Anno Dominii.

What a mammoth session! Most of it was taken up resolving combat, doing an honour audit and levelling the new character up, but we did get some action in at least. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.

Along the trail, Berenger and Saemus became separated from Maud, who went home to the McFinnigan brewery and Wizard’s tower, now in charge of their ship, the Wraith. The duo met a lady-sprite called Keera Hemlock, a mysterious looking, flighty and near-invisible shape that shimmered and shifted constantly. Keera fell-in with the crew; daughter of the Fernwick Isle, from a family of high-level Illusionists, she seemed to get on with them well enough (Chaotic-Neutral, Fighter/Mage). Keera Hemlock was known well at Seelie court, a friend of the Reginaulde royal family. Though green as grass, she fitted well with the group (atom croché) a fellow geek and welcomed with open arms into the group. She had with her a trained wolf, her animal companion called Louvre.

In the tiny coastal town of Ruark, the remnants of the underground home-grown crew investigate the Temple of pan. Laying stealthily in the tree-line, hidden from view, they watch the comings and goings of the Temple guard. Searching for a hidden entrance, the trio met an Dwarven ex-slave Thorynn who explained that there was a back-entrance to the Temple. However, Saemus had a better idea. After monitoring the comings and goings at the Temple, observing the occasional Bugbear patrol, and seeing the odd flock of flying creatures venture forth from the charred and overgrown ruins of the ancient site, the group bundled Berenger and Louvre in to the Bag of Many Tomes, there the two conversed about this and that (the Hobbit Priest had Speak with Animals memorized), Louvre lay down near the fire, curling her tail about her and speaking of her time growing up in amidst the Seelie court, and affairs there. Berenger decided to crack open the decanter of brandy, and even invited Drax and the young Sturm Pyre to have a drink with him; taking a break from their normal duties of maintaining the comfy living-space.

Meanwhile, Keera and Saemus flew up and over the crumbling complex, down in through a crack in the roof, into an old overgrown graveyard. (G.M. note: before I go any further, I’d like to explain that I committed the younglings too early, that’s what I get for speed-reading the adventure before hand!) As soon as the pair touched-down on the vine-covered soil, calling Berenger out of the bag, a number of Malicious Pod-Plants rose up and attacked the crew! Saemus wasn’t surprised for his Gem of True Sight gave him the heads-up, neither was Keera, for her telepathy forewarned her of the danger that followed. Even so, she rolled high for her initiative, being suddenly snagged and caught on the tendrils that were the plants’ limbs! Saemus let-rip with a blast of Phantasmal Fireballs catching the three adult Pod-Plants, singeing them some; he rolled low however, and one of them made his save so they were still alive.

Keera was caught up by two of the podlings, they whacked her with their clubs, taking her down to negative-one hit-point, but she sucked it up, using her Endurance talent to keep on keepin’ on. Berenger had even more trouble keeping the four other younglings off of him, but thanks to his Plate-Mail +4 and trusty Magick Shield, they didn’t make much of an impact. Seeing his new-found companion in trouble, he quickly ran over to her and tapped her with his Staff of Curing, then bundled her into his Bag of Holding. Thanks to her Receptive Healer talent, she survived, just about.

Saemus let-rip with another volley of Phantasmal Fireballs this time ‘toasting’ two of the Pod-Plant adults. Berenger tried to cast Sticks to Snakes whilst surrounded by young Pod-Plants. He was hit straight in the face, but I ruled that if he managed a concentration check (the average of his CON and WIS scores), equal or under on a D30 that he could still pull it off (a slim chance). Alas, he made it. The clubs being wielded by the young Pod-Plants, as well as various canes around the cemetery, transformed into poisonous snakes, finishing off most of the younglings, but not before Keera stuck her head out of the bag and exacting her vengeance on the one which bludgeoned her, slayed the fiend. One Magick-Missile: Sidewinder and the last adult was toast. (G.M. note: it said their was no treasure, screw that jive, I rolled up a standard treasure type from the Hacklopedia of Beasts). The party found a shed-load of gold, platinum and gems, but no magick.

The underground home-brew crew then negotiated a few corridors before reaching a dead-end. It wasn’t long before they discovered they lay on the other side of a secret door. Opening out to an extremely large chamber, strewn with rubble and covered in a smattering of coins, the group were wisely cautious, taking their leaders advice and not scooping up the loose change. Unbeknownst to them (though they suspected something dreadfully wrong, somewhere nearby) the crew could’ve contracted all manner of nasty diseases had they rifled through the broken masonry and charred remains of the ruined area. As Berenger was once again, placed into the Bag of Many Tomes, the Sprite Keera Hemlock and Leprechaun Saemus McFinnigan skirted the area for other possible exits.

Keera stumbled upon a stone in the wall that seemed out of place. Pushing it didn’t seem to do anything, neither did pulling it. After a few tries she managed to turn the stone about, unlocking another secret corridor. Starting down it, the underground crew found a small store cupboard, filled with barrels of sealed wine. (Yet another G.M. note: in the poorly written pre-fab’ adventure it said that the wine barrels were sealed, yet the wine had aged and thus gone off?!?! Serves me right not writing my own or doing it on the flex!). So the crew cracked open the barrels, two of which I decided had a fine, matured and flavourful vintage red. Another was a green ginger-wine, with another bottle floating in the bottom of it. Seeing as the tallest member of the party was a Hobbit, they had trouble getting it out from the bottom, but after several tries, Berenger was successful fishing it out with his staff. This non-descript vial was easily identified as a Potion of Healing which Louvre said should go to Keera, seeing as the others still had potions to spare.

The group then found an Alice-in-wonderland style tiny door, three feet tall. Berenger cast Summon Divine Lackey and sent her on ahead to confront the danger. A roll of ‘04’ on the Divine Intervention Roll meant that the gawdess yondall’ actually appeared before them! This abuse of power meant Berenger was to feel her wrath. Yondall’ spake thus, “Berenger Baggins, no longer shall you have the effects of restoring fertility when thoust bless thy congregation, lest not until thou hast gone to house Indigo and discovered the source of the disturbance there. You hath ten cycles of Lunat in order to complete this Gaes.”. Whilst their she offered Saemus the chance to join her as a follower of the good, the righteous and she offered to fully restore his fertility if he did so. After pondering the implications, Saemus nearly did so, but backed out when he realized that it meant being steered towards “Lawful Good” alignment! Yondall’ waved her hand and his Wand of Phantasmal Fireballs turned to dust. (G.M. note: She actually gave him a choice to loose his staff or to have a leg wither away, Saemus very nearly chose his leg!). Then, the deity disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, along with her Divine Lackey.

Boldly trying the handle, they stepped through into a small wooden room with a pile of rubbish in the corner. Being instantly suspicious, Saemus still went over to investigate. As he neared the suspect pile, it leapt up and attacked him! T’was a giant Sundew monster, with sap, suffocation and enzyme special-attacks. This didn’t deter the crew who slammed into it with missile fire. A shot from Keera’s crossbow (a sleep-bolt) missed it’s target, Saemus hit it, casting Phantasmal Fireball (no surprise their! At least he didn’t cast an actual Fireball!), incandescent flaming maya slammed into the creature, who believed the fire to be real. Berenger courageously stepped forward, casting Cause Serious Wounds and fumbled, hitting himself!!! Dealing twenty-odd points of damage, after an unlucky roll on the D1000 fumble table in H4CKM45TER meant the wise Priest of yondall’ pulled back to lick his wounds. Saemus closed the thing down with a Magick-Missile: Sidewinder after the group traded blows with the thing without any serious trouble.

Berenger climbed into his own Bag of Holding to heal-up, and asked Keera to carry it for the time-being, she did so willingly for saving her life earlier on in the adventure. He ate and shared some of his venison, then, after curing himself a little more, he stepped out once Keera had landed and the group proceeded, en masse. They rounded a corner and found a stable with three horses inside. Berenger investigated the hay-loft only to discover another ex-slave bearing the markings of the Wraith slave-ship. The group took pity on the man and took him on as a torch-bearer (G.M. hehehehehehehe). Then the party decided to rest in the loft, setting up watch. Saemus volunteered, putting everyone into the Bag of Many Tomes. In the middle of the night, something was amiss. The slave-man was missing and Louvre was acting strangely. Keera awoke, peered into her wolf-companions eyes and could not see her old friend their. Saemus immediately bashed the wolf’s head in, much to Keera’s surprise! The dying wolf, transformed back in to the Doppelganger masquerading as her faithful ally. Not far from here lay the body of Louvre. Berenger used his veterinary healing skills to restore the nearly-dead animal back to life.

Getting back to sleep after the ordeal, the remaining watch-people were ever more alert. In the morning, after a brief breakfast, spell recital and prayers, the group headed further into the dungeon. The came across two doors, one with some movement behind it, another silent. They decided to investigate the silent one at the far end of the corridor they were heading down. As they found a food-store filled with pickles, eggs, meat and fish, a group of four Bugbears burst in on them! Keera cast Chromatic Orb and blinded three of their number. Berenger waded in to attack, and as per usual, Saemus ‘toasted’ them with his Phantasmal spell antics (only cast at 11th Level now, and needing pieces of wool as opposed to just expending a charge on his now perished wand).

So here, the session ended. I am away playing gigs (a real-life wandering minstrel, not making stuff up in the imagination, but actually living the dream) but I will be back in a few weeks. Berenger might give a go at running a Discworld campaign perhaps. Oh, and in other news, this spring ‘Hannibal’ (a.k.a. Zemiah “the messiah” Pangelli) is an excellent Pixie-Fae campaign, of which I will of course be partaking in and will write up everything that happens. In much more detail I might add, as I can concentrate on logging everything properly rather than worrying about all the time. I will still however be running this campaign, just as soon as I get back. I’ll keep y’all posted of course.

In this session our new-player made level 2/2. Max-out. Take care, and peace be with you.

La Ballade de la groupe Finnigan

Perpetual winter bodes forth the dweomer, a cold spell lasting time-forever,
Behind ice-glass walls she lies, Iscaria, Soreceress with emerald eyes,
No hope save for brave souls that descend, into a frozen laberynth (with) seemingly no end,
Lost are the mountains to (the) frost and snow, beasts rarely seen, come down in droves,
Only if (the) ritual (is) disturbed cans’t thou break the spell, of the eternal cold, a Norsemans Hel,
Before the eclipse, stars, sun and moon, three cycles of Aldrazar thrice lune,
So thou art charged, the gaes dye cast, (the) fate of the world, in-balance thy task,
For if thou fail then (the) consequence(s) (are) dire, no more will Snuggle Nook see fire;

Unless thhe chosen ones do well, La Luciole junne, tréize junne, et tréize belle,
Le Lutin-Farfadet qui deconcerter, et le Nain de yondall’ le Guerisseur,
La herituer lèse-maajesté, purtetre la prochaine reign de la Fae,
Une Elfe demi qui penze assassiné, pas juse fois, mais encore fais,
Alliance diabolique nagé en sang, Les deux amoreaux parley pas le meme lang,
Ou pas si bonne Nain ârrete le connerie, de mudre le faux femme d’famile royaltie,
Le sort a cassie l’cameraderie, vive Fernwick, la terre sacreé,
Les arbes cahent la forêt, c’est sur, être centent a vie su diuex,
Le sereau roi offrir des yeux, donque essayè pas, c’est trop, c’est dur,
Pasque les yeux il’vue tout ta fais, prende l’bonne chemin, trouve la paix,
La guerre c’est perdu, c’est pas gangé, c’est shont, c’est jonni marr, oui, j’sait,
Mais le chemin noir en diable tombé, pas fais ça mec, j’aimais, j’amais;

La chaleureuxuse bellicste, guerrierère, aussie elle apprentie l’chemin sorcière,
Avais copain d’aboard Nain Guerissuer, et le Lutin-Farfadet deconcerter,
Chef de la groupe des adventuer, entré dans une alliance diabolique – sans coer,
Avec heritiurére qui lèse-majesté, apparament la prochain reign des Fae,
Tous ensemble la Lutin-Luciole, le Lutin-Farfadet, il est drole,
La princesse qui fauche tout les choses, et finalement Nain Guerissuer qui est pieux.

by Maxen » Mon Mar 01, 2010 9:34 pm
In the fair land of Snuggle Nook trouble is brewing. The shake-up of boundaries between the Dwarves, Gnomes and Orcs near Fangerie was merely an illusion, instigated by the infamous Gnome-Illusionist known as Draco Faustus. A world within a world gives forthy a cloudly vision of a land within a sphere. The Wytch, Old Mother Crumhorne peers into here crystal ball and see’s through vacant, trance-like eyes. Next to here is Faustus, who spaek thus;

“Tell me what you see old woman, I demand to know if they escaped.”

Crumhorne’s high-pitched haggard voice pierced the silent gloomy interior of the Wayworld Chamber, “Quiet youngling! I need silence to seer.”

She gazed into a part of the Tadisaga, a subterrainan chamber, a reddish dark cave. A small moat within the natural rockface gave way to a dias. Pillars sculpted from the rarest black marbel propped up a circular roof in the manner of the people of Stone. From within the crevasses and reccess of the cave came two figures wearing dark robes. One a man of cadeverous demeanor, another a Yian-Tee halfman hybrid. Thier large hoods covered thier faces, carrying torches they conversed quietly in the gloomy insides of the Sacrificial Temple.

Meanwhile, far away in another part of the realm, a giants villa, stood a band of heroes known as the underground posse, a.k.a. The Untouchable Trio with another; namely, Saemus, Maud, Berenger and Kerra. The ancient hag peered into this other reality and could see the approaching Gate-Keeper. The were now close to the group. For an instant, the scene froze. That is to say, except for our four protagonists, who saw the Gate Keeper. A brilliant flash happened, blinding the two onlookers who were thrown to the floor. In all of a sudden, all five people stood looking over the stunned bodies of Faustus and Crumhorn. The Gate-Keeper handed Saemus a small curiosity, a Transference-Tablet between dimensions. Of the thirteen empty recesses on the tablet, three were filled with a runestone. The Elfae Minstrel played a light tune on his harp before explaining,

“The three touchstones are able to transport you and your group in-between three realms”, he paused a moment to reach over and press one of the small marked runestones. The symbol Daeg illuminated a yellowy-green colour, and in a flash, they were at the sight of some strange exotic city, near a port by the sea. "You see?. I might add, that if ever you are in grave danger, you may escape to the relative saftey of the Dream-World by pressing the other symbol Geofu (an X). The third, if pressed will take you back to Garweeze. It will only do so a few times before being depleted completely, so use it wisely. Then the yellowish light from the runestone of Snuggle Nook faded away, as did the Gate-Keeper. The crew were once again, in a different reality, this time on a foriegn shore, in the city-port of Orphalese.

A sprawling metropolis made up of red-tiled Casas and Villas set in a steep hill-side valley, looking out over the sea. Moored in the bay lay the groups flaship with a roguish crew manning the vessel and gaurding the booty. This vision suddenly blurred, the ship faded away as a mere phantasm, a maya. Then, the group saw a crowd milling about, it began to gather. More and more toga’d Stone citizens started to flock about a man stand on the end of a jetty, looking out to see. He was dressed in the manner of Al’Quora, sporting a white beard and a turban, holding a necklace in his left hand, and pointing a finger out towards the ocean.

It was a clear and sunny day at about noon-time, perhaps some time before in this outpost of Stone that Khalil Gibran spoke of all things so profound so as to cure the people around him, who soon became parti to his knowledge and wisdom. As the group began to follow the prophet, this new zemiah, this other muah’deeb, stood before them and told them to thrice choose a question to which he will answer, concerning life the worlds and everything…

The new zemiah is able ask questions regarding the following aspects of life, the universe and everything:
Love, Marriage, Children, Giving, Eating, Work, Joy & Sorrow, Houses, Clothes, Buying & Selling, Crime & Punishment, Laws, Freedom, Reason & Passion, Pain, Self-Knowledge, Teaching, Friendship, Talking, Time, Good & Evil, Prayer, Pleasure, Beauty, Death and finally, Continuation.

G.M.’s Campaign Log, 28th to the 29th of March 2010

The Dawn of a New World

Maud and Keera were off scouting elsewhere together while Sæmus and Berenger made their way down to the jetty, and approached the mystic. Sæmus asked Gibran Khalil where may he find a Fireball: No Mercy spell-scroll. The all-knowing prophet rolled his eyes and said, “Look inside you for you are a adept of the magickal arts, you yourself could research such a spell. You are resourceful and have the means, I can tell.” Then the prophet crested the hill-top and began looking out to sea again, watching his approaching countrymen arrive in their ship. Berenger kept silent throughout the imparting of knowledge.
As the crowd of toga’d citizens dispersed, a silvery haired man eyed them through ice-blue eyes as he smoked outside a tavern. Finishing his smoke he entered the small bar and stood behind the counter, polishing a glass and continuing to peer upon the strange demi-human newcomers with suspicion. The likely pair entered the pub and could see two waitresses behind the bar with another pair of clients, sipping at tall fine-metal cups filled with a strong clear liquid.
After trying to converse with the bar-maids and realising they spoke a different dialect, Berenger slapped a Gold-Piece down on the table after hovering up to the bar height using his Anklets of Levitation. Sæmus naturally flew up with grace to the same altitude, just by the bar stools. The black-haired Stona girl poured the two a house special: ‘Gyappa’. Berenger took a sip and only just made his CONstiution check with the plus two bonus for drinking only a bit, and not gulping it down (equal or under on a D16). The landlord offered Sæmus and Berenger some cigarillos (small cigars) to which they accepted, Berenger bought another ten lots. Sæmus motioned the universal hand-gesture for smoking hobbit pipe-weed to which the patron gave him a blank, featureless expression. However, one of the clientele said he knew what the little leprechaun was about. Giggling and speaking in broken-common, this short, old, balding man laughed through black broken teeth. He invited them both to his coach for an aperitif, the duo accepted. Over a whisky and mellow smoke, the man explained that he had some artefacts stolen. A spectacular orange coral and a golden ‘Gyppo tablet. The two ask to see the last known place his treasures were before they were stolen. Deediæ takes them to his ladies casa, and shows them where the coral and golden calendar last were. He knows the whereabouts of the prime-suspect. Through a process of elimination he had narrowed it down to one man, a leather worker who lived in a demi-casa downtown. Deediæ and his cherie had thrown a party at their place when the items went missing. The next day another soireé happened and Deediæ had cunningly left his belt-pouch with a great deal of money inside it, on the table in plain view of everyone, then he left. Upon his return, some eight hours later, the belt-pouch was still there, not a coin missing. Through deduction, the only other person who was not at the soireé was Michel, the leather worker.
The old man led them to where he lived, rang the bell, then handed them a small map showing directions back to the casa. He spoke, “Once you’ve recovered the object return to me and I will amply reward you both.”
Footsteps came down the stairs, the door opened and a stocky-looking man with a bulbous nose and blonde beard appeared. He spoke only in Westphalian and before anyone knew what was happening, Sæmus touched the man (roll to hit) who fell to the floor unconscious (after failing his saving throw). A few passers by were looking in with nosey interest; one downward tilt of his custom dark-spectacles and Sæmuses dragon-eyes had any would-be informants either fleeing for their lives in terror or rooted to the spot with fear.
The duo entered the building, Berenger, levitating up the stairs with ease and Sæmus in tow, flying up twelve stories. The door to Michel’s loft-dwelling was ajar. Lay about the scene was a number of rice-paper parchments sporting images of musical groups, a heavily laden book case and two dozen or so works of leather. Sacks, pouches and belts. The pair began turning the place over in search of their prize. Sæmus found a small address book with a place named Giovanii off the Plaza Mercure underlined, next to the name Calender. A possible clue to the whereabouts of the Horoscope Tablet of Deediæ. Then the two found the coral, stashed underneath a pile of parchment. They could hear footsteps coming up the stairwell then a knock at the door saying in a gruff voice, “Guardia, let us in immediately”. The two left through the skylight, Sæmus turning invisible and Berenger floating over the rooftop then down the other side of the building he levitated vertically, hands crossed and quite at ease. He slipped away into shadows after rounding the corner only to see two more guardia keeping watch.
Wasting no time they headed for Giovanii’s. The coaching house was indeed located in a side-street, just off Plaza Mercure. It had another bar downstairs, guarded by two Ogryn bouncers. Berenger was able to sweet-talk and bribe his way into the place. By this time Sæmus was invisible and followed him inside. The cavern club had an eastern style band playing on raised stage, in front of a curtain. The joint was jumping. A trio performed, a saaz player, a string-bassist and some sort of exotic wind-instrument played a similarly exotic Phrygian melody to people smoking, drinking and dancing. Several lap-dancers worked the tables of the clients, one sultry looking maiden entertaining Berenger. Her semi-clad physique moving in suggestively swaying motions, sparking the interest of the Hobbit priest of the fertility gawdess. She beckoned him to put a coin where the sun doesn’t shine and Berenger tipped her a whole platinum-piece! Taking him out to the back, the two mutually comforted one another. As he was away, two local guardia came in, doing the rounds. Sæmus observed them from the top corner of Giovanii’s cavern bar. The two spoke with the owner, who ordered drinks to be bought for them. Some gold was exchanged and then the landlord left them to drink. It wasn’t long before the two guardia left. The owner, adorned in a black and white toga from Anglyn, eyed nervously the people coming into and out of the back room. Sæmus slipped through the door after someone decided to use it. He came upon a back-room kitchen scene where several well dressed men smoked cigars and played cards. Men carrying bags of coins came and went from another room out-back. The only other apparent exit being the stairwell upwards.
Meanwhile, Berenger had finished getting his end away and came back out relaxed and ready for another drink. He asked about for information regarding the tablet. Working the crowd he found a sympathetic drinker who knew the habits of the owner, crossing the strangers palm with silver, Berenger found out that the tablet was hung on the wall in the owners bedroom. He then asked the hooker he’d just slept with if she knew the whereabouts of a secret entrance to the owners bed-chamber, where t’was rumoured it hung on the wall: the golden artefact. She replied, “Yes, but it’s a trap door on the floor, behind the curtain on-stage.” She whispered something in the saaz players ear before pointing towards the young hobbit. Berenger was introduced; then boldly stepped up in-between songs and used his poetry skill to aid his impromptu singing act, joining the musicians. After the number was over, he casually stepped behind the screen curtain and found the secret corridor, coming up from beneath some crates in the back-room, near to where Sæmus was currently.
Sæmus decided to investigate this other back-room tucked away and could see three men, all counting coins then placing them in sacks and boxes. The door opened again and it seemed it was lunch-time for the mob, who left only one man on duty. The cook brought him a bowlful of red gruel they were all eating. Berenger began casting Silence 15’ radius before realising that as soon as he spoke, they would detect him immediately. The spell was cancelled before it had a chance to begin. Then Sæmus flew down to where Berenger was and the two investigated the two doors opposite, either side of each other within the secret tunnel. The twelfth level rogue made his lock-pick check with ease then the two started down the tunnel, which came to a T-junction. It was pitch dark so Sæmus used his Dancing Lights natural ability to illuminate the place for the next three and a half minutes. Heading west they entered a large cave. Deciding against going this way they headed back trying the eastward passage in the corridor. They could make out a dark temple with several human cultists wearing black robes with a red trim. The insignia they bore and the signs about the place were reminiscent of yondall’ but a twisted, perversion of the sacred symbol, holy to the priest Berenger. One of the fanatics noticed the lantern-like lights floating up ahead in the dark corridor then came to investigate. Sæmus directed the lights to in inner-sanctum which distracted most of the worshippers. Berenger befriended the inquisitive priest by casting Stirring Sermon but failed to convert the believer of a diametrically opposed pantheon, he did however agree to ask permission to admit the hobbit into the temple. They spoke with the high-priest (well, level nine) who declined his request then offered to escort him out of the complex. As they reached the door, Berenger cast the spell Cause Nasty Wounds, making his roll to hit and killing the evil priest outright! Before he knew what was happening, the cultist had a Phantasmal Fireball coming his way, again waxing his opponent. They recovered a Staff of the Serpent and a human-sized Magickal Cloak of Armour Class Six; also some jewellery, a very ornate brooch encrusted with gemstones. In addition to that a semi-precious necklace of some value.
Just then an Alpha-Modron (Icosahedron) wandered through from the cavern and attacked Berenger with a noxious gas, which our protagonist succeeded in saving against. He struck the creature with a Cause Nasty Wounds spell, in combat, taking an attack of opportunity which hit for his trouble (ten damage), he made the concentration check (average of his WISdom and CONstitution scores, equal or under on a D30) then had the magickally animated polyhedron down to three hit points. The Alpha-Modron just failed his morale check then fled, Berenger had his attack of opportunity then easily struck the creature taking it down. Just as he did so, Sæmuses Magick Missile: Sidewinder slammed into the dead thing. Finding no treasure but the bone-saw of optimal yields found that some part of the monster when consumed may cure mild insanity.
The cultists, who watched the fight with intensity from around the corner, could see their leader and comrade dead at the entrance, with two floating heroes slaying the Alpha-Modron, they decided to flee in a myriad of secret passageways throughout the inner sanctum. This left the Sæmus to use Berenger’s tool-kit to pry out the two gem eye-stones from the fifty feet tall lizardman statue the zealots were worshipping. Then that was the adventure for this evening.

G.M.’s Campaign Log, 29th of March 2010

After finding themselves in a now deserted underground dark-temple, the pair of adventurers hear the grating of a stone behind them. Rounding the corner by which they had come, to investigate the source of the grating-noise, the two noticed that a large slab of granite rock had descended from above, blocking the door-way back. The group decided to camp, rest and regain their spells. After two successful INTelligence checks, they soon realised that their was no flow of air so suffocation underground was a distinct possibility. After wondering what to do, a tiny Luciole appeared and touched the transference-tablet sending them back to Garweeze Wurld.
The group rested in the sanctuary of the temple of yondall’ then loaded up the ship the following day in a pioneer spirit. The plan was to sail around a small, remote island and then make a landing to conquer unclaimed territory. After consulting the maps and charts, they spied a small, lone island, some three hundred miles north. They set sail with fair weather and a favourable wind. An un-eventful journey and gawds-speed meant they reached their target in just a few days.
Before departing to make a landing the Capt’n and Berenger agreed to fire the catapults on his signal. The Hobbit would cast a Darkness spell, then the Capt’n would give the order to fire; not on our own boys of course.
Anyway, upon landing in the bay, our two intrepid adventurers – namely Sæmus and Berenger – stepped ashore, with their Hobbit contingent rowing two small boats in tow. It wasn’t long before they had company. The wildcats and ape-like creatures in the tree’s scattered for ground trembled violently and a thunderous boom was heard in the distance, from inside the island. Emerging from the great lake a number of huge humanoid figures began to swim to the shore and out on to the land. A fifty-foot tall gawd-eye giant, true Cyclops, dripping with water started out across the land; each booming footstep leaving a massive impression in the terrain. He was flanked by half-a-dozen eye-giant cyclops’ (some twenty feet tall).
Sæmus readied then slung his Sidewinder-Fireball Factor IV spell as Berenger flew directly towards the true Cyclops. The chieftan made his magick-res’ roll though one of the adjacent eye-giants failed and was clipped pretty bad. Cinged but undeterred, the group of giants closed in on the pair of adventurers. Berenger closed in, making a called shot to the head-cyclops’ eye. He nearly made it, t’was was close, but no cigar. Alas, the true Cyclops sent a lightning bolt out from his eye at Sæmus but missed. Two others took a swipe at Berenger, one scoring a critical hit on him, sending him crashing to the floor. He’s at minus one to hit until he can find a Cure Critical Wounds spell or better. Anyway, our hobbit protagonist still had a fair few hit-points left. The two eye-giants nearest him threw a punch at him, one missing, one fumbling badly, he hit his buddy who failed his successive DEXterity check and took the full 2D10+8 damage from his kin. The fighting was fierce, the leader Cyclops closing in on Sæmus fired his lighting eye attack once more, this time hitting the little leprechaun for forty odd points of damage taking him roughly down to about half health. Then Sæmus struck back casting a volley of spells whilst climbing higher away from the true Cyclops Gargantuan creature. The Leprechaun cast: Fireball: Sidewinder (Factor IV) all the while Berenger was levitating and diving down to cast and hit with his Cause Serious Wounds spell upon the remaining twenty-feet tall common cyclopses. In between time he scored a critical-hit upon one of them after wounding him, killing one of the giant-kin, the other enraged beat Berenger to within an inch of his life (down to one hit point). He used his Staff of Curing to heal his wounds whilst floating up and far from danger, provoking attacks of opportunity but luckily he adroitly avoided being hit.
Sæmus was having little success closing down the fifty feet high main-guy, due to the creatures high magick resistance score. He launched spell after spell, another Fireball: Sidewinder (Factor IV) and six Phantasmal Fireballs all having no effect on the true Cyclops. Then, the following round, a Magick Missile: Sidewinder slammed into the head bad-guy, bolts of green energy hurtling through the air struck the giant getting through the creatures natural defences for a modest nineteen points of damage. The head-honcho used his Thunder Clap special ability to stun the crew of their ship, he then began wading towards it as the remaining few common cyclopses either wrecked the away-boats on the shore or concentrated on bringing Berenger down as he dived down from above. His Cause Nasty Wounds found their mark, whittling down his opponents, who fought back furiously, bringing the little Hobbit in danger of his life once again.
In an attempt to save his comrade from the cold clutches of death, Sæmus cast Avoidance on Berengers boots. However, blissfully unaware of his companions help our priest failed his saving throw whilst the two cyclopses passed theirs! This resulted in Berenger was launched into the air, his Anklets of Levitation allowing him to regain control of his height. The pair of giants below studied the boots with indifference, seeking their prey in the sky. Most of the giants made their saving throws, only a few of them were repulsed by the now near useless footwear. However, Berenger was safe from danger again thus having the desired effect, albeit in a round-about way.
Meanwhile, the leader started wading out towards the ship, gaining distance rapidly. Berenger cast a Darkness spell, giving the signal to fire and engulf the giant mythical creatures who couldn’t see in the dark, confusing them greatly. The crew of the Sensii were still stunned by the Thunderclap but some of the more experienced rogues in Sæmus’ posse managed to man the catapults. All three fired and one struck the main bad-guy, damaging him significantly; all wasn’t well however as one of the heavy catapults tore up the deck of the ship, causing a split in the hull. All hands were ordered to bail water as the true Cyclops finally reached the vessel, smashing chunks out of the boat.
In complete magickal darkness, Berenger used his advantageous infravision to thrice times cast his Cause Light Wounds spell but still didn’t escape retaliation completely, getting tagged on his ascent a couple of times. The Hobbit put down both his adversaries in good time but was left badly wounded, he immediately cast a Cure Light Wounds spell on himself.
Sæmus was worried about torching the ship and his fellow rogues so targeted his last two offensive spells, namely Scatter Blast Fireballs, at the lesser giants wrecking the away-boats, however they went wild and missed their targets, either landing in the sea or on the beach head. Two of Berenger’s cronies abandoned the notion of bailing water to react to the new threat, namely the fifty foot tall Cyclops, waist-deep in seawater attacking the un-damaged side of the ship with his massive fists. Despite several strikes at the ship’s flank, the hull survived more or less in-tact. The two Hobbit soldiers manned their heavy crossbows and fired. One bolt flew true, striking the Cyclops, wounding him. Down to only four hit-points the huge creature (failed his morale check) began to wade back to the shore where his smaller brothers sabotaged the away-boats, splitting them in-two like twigs or kindling.
Sæmus was determined not to let the big guy get away so closed in for the kill, despite the fact he was out of spells. Just before charging down for a final attack the Cyclops shouted out “I yield!”, in the common tongue: Anglyn. Accepting his surrender, the magickal darkness was dispelled, light returned to the center of the island. The humble gargantuan was bested and called off his smaller kin. In a submissive speech he said in broken Anglyn, “Me live island many time. We fight off attack many, pirates, also men from big land to west, never have we been brought so close to death, especially by two as small as you. So we humbly submit to your will.” He ordered the main portion of gold and platinum to be brought out in huge chests from the cave, the common cyclopses did so. He also gave his magickal items to the underground posse. After negotiating a deal briefly, the cyclopses and underground crew agreed to live in harmony on this, their new island, won by conquest. In this treaty of words, the cyclopses would dwell in their home, the around volcanic lake and mountain. No tribute would be paid but they would help defend the island against any newcomers with designs on the territory. This new land was theirs (Sæmus and Berenger’s), known as Vesuva.

Account of role-playing session of the underground home-grown crew. Grift-Meister’s campaign log on the night of Moon-day the 31st of May, 2010 Anno Domini, midnight Greenwich Meantime.

After returning from abroad, and finding themselves lost near the forest of Whisper-Wood, Berenger the Hobbit and Garag Tog the Gnome-Titan heard of legends surrounding the wild-wood through which they now traversed. While walking along the trail Berenger asked his gawdess aloud, “Why would anyone want to choose a path non-magickal?”. Garag heard him and replied, “Well, I don’t use magick, and I chose this path, the way of the warrior.” It was still early dawn and Berenger had forgotten his morning prayers, he explained that he must get them out of the way if he is to be of much use if and when they found themselves in danger.

“You see?”, said Garag, continuing on, “This is why I don’t use magick! Bloody holding things up every time.” The Gnome-Titan of pangrus carried on grumbling until they were on their way again.

Folk in these parts had been experiencing some pretty strange going-ons in the locality. A shepherd told tales of his flock suddenly increasing in size by a few sheep, whenever he had his back turned. After a few moments, the flock would return to it’s original size.

Other voyagers had reported becoming lost in the trees only to re-appear a few days later. One man was even said to have lost his identity, the authorities are still trying to discovered who the guy is! Traditionally the townsfolk of Whisper-Wood used to skirt the edges of the forest in order to find essential herbs and mushrooms. Of late however, it has become impossible to harvest even the most modest amounts, due to the troubles happening, the normally peaceful creatures ‘loosing the plot’ and ambushing innocent peoples.

So the unlikely pair were asked to Whisper-Wood castle to see the local lord, known as Jareb. The old noble told the tale of how his son had gone for long walks in the wood. Being filled with the impetuous youth, the spirit of rebellious adolescence, the young boy Barens has been missing for two weeks now, without so much as a trace. Not only this, but the frequency of normally placid creatures attacking townsfolk had increased substantially of late. Jareb is very anxious to discover the whereabouts of his son, and will offer a generous sum to the adventurers for his safe return.

After a brief negotiation the two settled on having a shrine put-up in the name of their respective gawds (namely Berenger’s yondalla and Garag’s pangrus) in the town of Whisper-Wood. On top of that they would be paid the generous sum of 500 Crowns (1,000 Gp) each, as well as a permanent magick item each.

The two were led to the forests edge by a pair of blue-robed royal guardsmen. They were shown the last known whereabouts. Delving into the beginning of the tree-line, the two little demi-humans made their way, into the forest. Bright shafts of sunlight majestically pierced the gloom, making the walk a pleasant one. The odd butterfly crossing their path, and the occasional stag seeing them, then taking flight.

It wasn’t long before the two came a-cropper. Garag was surprised, as were the beasts but Berenger was on the case, racing towards two black bears. The two bears were not however hostile and the couple of adventurers made their way past without let or hindrance.

The next encounter, about half-a-day or so later, was with a giant porcupine. The thing shot out a number of barbed darts against Garag, missing. Berenger slammed into it with a Cause Serious Wounds spell, finding his mark and bringing the aggressive giant porcupine down a notch or two. Garag taunted the thing, provoking it in to attacking him. It struck home, cutting the Gnome-Titan, meaning that the Berserker’s Combat Arrogance quirk was sated and it was okay for him to attack. (Garag cannot attack unless he’s hit, taking damage, beforehand!) The little Berserker’s attack hit, his +4 Gnomish short-sword of battle-sense stabbing at the giant prickly beast. A couple of rounds later and it was down.

A day or so later, the two came across a trio of were-bears. They were also hostile. Garag did his usual “C’mon, hit me, hit me!”, so one of them obliged him accordingly. Berenger waded in there bravely, he cast Touch of Death spell, hitting the were-bear with ease. Rolling some serious open-ended damage and knocking the lycanthrope down to a mere two hit points! “That’s why I use magick!”, the little Hobbit exlaimed. The were-bear legged it after a failed morale check but Berenger’s attack of opportunity missed it’s mark. The lycanthropes began fighting back, clawing and biting the heroes. They were dealt some heavy damage that round, both were badly wounded.

In the rounds that followed the fleeing were-bear mustered his resolve and re-joined the fight, albeit with trepidation. Garag took another stab at his opponent and his magickal blade found it’s target. Meanwhile Berenger tried and failed to hit the other with another Cause Serious Wounds spell, this time however he failed to hit the thing. It struck back, fumbling and falling to the ground. Garag kept on wearing down the one monster left attacking him, scoring a swathe of targeted strikes, stabbing up the enemy bad.

Berenger tried another spell, this time a Cause Light Wounds. He also fumbled, the strap on his shield braking. (We used the simplified house rule, in-place of keeping track of item H.P. and the body shield made it’s saving throw, so wasn’t therefore so damaged to be beyond repair). The other lycanthrope returned to exact vengeance on Berenger and did so in style, a 20! The little Hobbit of the fertility gawdess yondalla took a whopping severity-level twelve critical to the lower knee! Disaster looked imminent, that was before Garag’s final blow took out the one he had been concentrating on. Seeing his fellow were-bear dying before him, the heavily wounded lycanthrope decided to leg-it again, Berenger threw his Hammer of Mijolneer and it brought down the beast, bringing it back to human form once again.

The last were-bear decided to surrender, offering them what treasure he had. The two heroes showed the confused were-bear mercy, Berenger instantly using-up a charge on his Staff of Curing to heal the former enemy. They were rewarded by taking the creatures stash of items which included 4 crowns (equivalent to Hard Silver or Mithril Pieces), 25 guineas (equivalent to Platinum), two blue-quartz gem-stones worth five crowns each, and a golden tiara inlaid with platinum worth 1,100 crowns. They also found a number of magickal Protection scrolls and two potions. Garag used his identify potion talent to discern what was within the cloudy vials. The blue one turned out to be a potion of Detect Invisibility and the colourful pinkish liquid was identified as a Potion of Delusion.

After resting up, camping in the woods, the two had an uneventful night and began new their search for Barens then following morning. Soon enough they met some more forest folk, this time four unicorns. They were friendly but bade the duo not to trample their region of the forest which was rich in herbs. Garag enquired as to what variety of herbs it was that was so precious and asked if he could have a sample. The unicorns had an abundance and agreed to let go of a small sample if they agreed not to enter this part of the woodland. The six parted ways amicably, one ounce of Unicorn pipe-weed better-off.

The following happening was with eight Ents (Treants, to those of you who use the American terminology and not papa Tolkein’s name for tree-men). They were also friendly towards the heroes but again, bade them to take another route, and not wander into their lair. Just then, Berenger caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye, a pixie. Before he could track the magickal creature though, it vanished into thin air.

The next encounter with a dozen Brownies (Forest Fairy’s, not desserts, blatantly) shed a little light on the situation. The gentle creatures explained that the pixies have been playing tricks on people and that they suspected the Forest Fairy’s are behind the recent upset. The two groups went there own ways, again leaving on good-terms.

Then the two saw three-dozen Sprites who flew all about them. Although not initially hostile, they did have their sleep-arrows nocked in their short-bows, aimed right at the two protagonists. After a moment of parleying, the two managed to negotiate going to see the Pixie-King. The Sprites would show them the way to the rough whereabouts of the Pixie’s encampment but would partake no further with regard to their involvement in this affair.

Their were a couple of more interesting crossing of paths en route to the Pixie-King; namely a Pegasus (which turned out to be an illusion) and then Garag noticing the spell-casting Pixie hiding behind a tree. The two downed doses from the potion of Detect Invisibility and then traced the fleeing Pixie back to his hide-out. Though slower across land, Berenger is able to Levitate at a rate of 18” per round so following him wasn’t a problem. Leaving trail-markers for Garag. After a time though, the Hobbit became bored with the Pixie sending them on a wild goose chase, leading them into illusionary huts and mayan glens, all products of his spell-casting. The Hobbit priest cast Hold Person on the Pixie, while Garag threatened the little Pixie if he didn’t show them the right way. Stuffing the Held Pixie into his Bag of Holding Berenger and Garag made their way to the Pixie-King’s village.

Once there the two were given an audience with Ebron – the Pixie-King. It was revealed to them that Gwellen, the Pixie-Queen had been helping Barens, and it was rumoured she kept him as a secret lover. The two were offered to join them for a banquet, to which they politely declined, for t’was rumoured that if one accepted a single morsel, that they would be trapped there for all-time.

In the quiet of night, Gwellen approached the sleeping players and offered to lead them to where Barens was. They followed her willingly, before long the trio arrived at a small wooden shack, secluded deep within the forest. Barens was pleased to see Gwellen, and welcomed to two strangers who had arrived with his queen. The young noble was unshaven with matted hair, dressed in rags and smelt of the forest. Both Berenger and Garag tried to explain that Jareb was growing evermore worried about his whereabouts. That he should come with them, back home to castle Whisper-Wood. He refused. Two failed charisma checks later and he still wouldn’t leave his beloved Gwellen. It wasn’t until Berenger made another pitch, eloquent and well role-played that Barens was persuaded to at least come home briefly to see his father.

Leaving the forest, the four encountered an illusionary giant-weasel and nothing else of note happened. Barens explained his story, about how he had met and fell in love with Gwellen. To try and put an end to their affair, Ebron had sent out Pixie’s to Confuse and cast Sleep and Phantasms on him. Fortunately for the young man, he had happened upon a group of Wood Elves (the tall Allansian variety, from the worlds of Titan and Middle-Earth, not the Peter-Pan Michael Jackson Neverland Ranch variety found in the American AD&D books). The tall Wood-Elves had also taken a liking to the young wanderer. After hearing his story, and sympathising with him, they fashioned him an amulet to protect Barens against the Pixie’s magick.

Once home, the Lord Jareb was mightily pleased at having his progeny back safe, at least for the time-being. A compromise was reached: Jareb would order the construction of a small dwelling near to the forest for his son to go and stay in from time to time. Somewhere more comfortable than the shack Barens had hastily constructed. In exchange, Barens would not leave home, and could continue his relationship with Gwellen. Jareb also ordered the construction of the two shrines (to pangrus and yondalla), paid the pair five hundred crowns each, and also gave them some magick, for returning his son. Here ended the session. Garag levelled-up from Rage-Master to Battle-Bane (Level Four), and Berenger is still miles away from Level Nine Priest, but he’s slowly creeping there.

The Story So Far… (cue West-Country accent, thick Devonian) “What happened waaaaas…”

After meeting leaving Barens, Gwellen the Pixie-Princess and the Lord Jareb of Whisper-Wood, Garag and Berenger happened upon a Dark-Elf Wizardess whilst exploring the Slaztek jungle, to the south of Snuggle Nook. Heading towards the fishing village of Chala, the underground crew discovered a village elder, wandering in the swamps. After being spared Garags initial idea of slaying the old man, the trio stopped and spoke to the wizenend old chap. His name was Vanto and explained that a holy statue had been recently stolen from his native town of Chala, and t’was widely rumoured that t’was lizardmen to blame.

The home-grown crew we’re escorted at once to seek an audience with Chala’s chieft elder, who happened to be Vento all along and he explained (evidence) and offered them one-quarter of the towns annual income for successful recovery of the statue.

Venturing into the swamp Garag was surprised by a large group of animated trees, oak, willow and rowan; who, incidentally, were also just as surprised to see the Gnome-Titan and his new-found friends. Keera Jr. and Berenger however had the drop on these guys. The aggressive Algoid plant-men were set upon, the Drowizardess casting sleep but rolling snake-eyes wasn’t able to make the animated Ents slumber. Berenger flew towards them and cast a Cause Light Woundsspell on the nearest oak, he scored a hit, knocking the big-tree down a few notches. The Ent retaliated smacking the Hobbit and caining him badly for a dozen or so points of damage in two successive attacks.

The monsters were far more than they bargained for, four and score creatures of the forest, angry at being disturbed shambled towards the underground-crew, leafy branches flailing in the wind. Garag started striding towards the tree-folk, taunting and goading them into hitting him. None of the four-and-twenty tree-folk did so, lumbering ever-so slowly towards the crew. Garag was still reserving his initiative when Keera Jr. cast her Tauntspell, two of the Ents caught within the spells radius failed their saving throws and started towards the Dark-Elf Wizardess. The Berserker then threw himself in-between the tree-folk and Kerra II when the two of them attacked him, successfully striking hits, damaging him and sending him in to a wild frenzy! Lashing out, Garag smacked one of the oak-men, taking a chunk out of him.

All hell broke loose as Berenger tried to cast another Causewhatever Wounds (this time a Light), was hit in the face with an attack of opportunity; not only this but the Hobbit Preacher-man failed his subsequent concentration check, thus the incantation was nullified.


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