Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Subversive 02-05-07, 04:21 PM	Well, I've been reading this forum for a long time now, and felt it was time that I chime in with my own group's adventures. I'm doing this for a few things. For one, I want the feedback, and maybe some advice to keep things interesting for my players. For another, I eventually intend to fold RHoD into the campaign, and I'm eager to relay how the adventure goes. If any of my players read this board I would recommend against reading this thread, as spoiling information will certainly be present here. First, though, a background: Arannus is a world without a center. Floating landmasses, called skylands, orbit in the sky around a great raging Maelstrom that has yet to be penetrated in recorded history. It was not always thus. In ancient legends Arannus was a planet where sky met sea with the land between, and an ancient race of wizard-godlings created an empire that spanned the globe. Then came the Great Sundering, where earth and sea were split apart and Arannus came to be as it is now. Much was lost in that cataclysm and the times of trouble that followed. Surviving wizard nobles created their own kingdoms and attempted to reclaim the former glory of their destroyed empire, but these efforts came to little, and the world decended into barbarism and darkness. Knowledge was forgotten, magic was buried, and it was a millennia or more before the races were able to effectively harness the skies and new empires sprang forth. The known world as it stands now is divided by two major powers, with independent regions and neutral kingdoms making up the remainder. In one corner is the elven hegemony of Isilmar. The elves of Isilmar were one of the first races to rediscover magical flight after the fall of the wizard kingdoms, and used their knowledge to dominate what was left of the world. The kingdom is largely Grey Elves, with an Avian Elf nobility that might make Marquis DeSade's blood chill a little. In the other corner is the newly formed human empire of Darnallus. The continent of Darnallus, while enormous in size, and well-populated, was considered to be little more then a haven for barbarians, and was subject to economic domination by the elves of Isilmar, if not outright enslavement. This would have remained so, were it not for the gold elves of Argental, an Isilmari province located close to Darnallus. The Argenti chaffed for three hundred years under the yoke of Isilmar, and finally decided to trade the secrets of Airsailing in exchange for protection from Isilmari retribution. The humans of Darnallus built up their fleet in secret - with much assistance from Argenti advisors - and when the time was right they declared their independence in a relatively bloodless revolt (the elves had never seen Darnallus as a strategically important region, and had thus ignored it militarily). As it stands now, the world is locked in a 50 year-old cold war. Neither side wants to begin a direct confrontation, and instead wrestle for allies and control over independent regions. The other races have various interests and concerns. The gnomes have ever been traders, and while they never turned their knowledge into the foundation for an empire, their zepplines have coursed through the skies for centuries. The Dwarves found their own means of transportation, turning sky-mountains into floating, mobile fortresses. Dwarf warships take a long time to get where they are going, but when they arrive... you know that they're there. Halflings have always been found where there were cities and intrigue, and the nation of Darnallus offers much of that. Other nations and empires exist as well, but they are not the subject of interest for this campaign. Of these many regions, one of the most strategic is the Atalins, a large island chain spanning over a thousand miles, similar in size and makeup to the Phillippeans. This region was once a single continent called Aquilon, controlled by the wizard king Lenj... before he accidentally blew it (and himself) up. :D Now a largely lawless region, its is controlled by pirate barons and small, independent city states. Its most populated areas are the region of Elsir Vale (conveniently) on one of the larger islands, and the largest city in the region: Trewind. And that's where my players come in... I'll get to their current adventures in my next post. -Steve
Subversive 02-05-07, 09:10 PM	On to the adventure: Characters: Denick Mallorean - Dwarf Cleric to Durfindel Ember-Eyes lvl2. Dennik is a fiery cleric to the patron god of Dwarves and the forge. His domains are Earth and Craft, and he seeks to find the means to find and kill the red dragon who devoured his father and uncle - dragons being the natural enemies of Dwarves. Gerty Gobblesnaps - Gnome Wizard lvl2. A curious gnome who's blown up one or two research labs too many. He comes to Trewind to make a new start, and find a way to rescue his family who vanished in a magical accident of his own causing James - Human Rogue lvl2. While only a child James survived a pirate attack on his parent's trading vessel that killed all aboard. He lived for a week on a raft of floatwood planks before making land, and then survived for years after in the bowels of the great cities. This ordeal has defined much of his personality, and he has hated and hunted pirates ever since. Kent - Human VoP Monk lvl2. Kent is a quiet, reserved monk, who would rather lead a life of meditation than adventure. Still, he is loyal to his companions. Laythin Airstream - Human Spirit Shaman lvl2. One of the Quillari, nomadic tribes decended from the original Aquilonians who lost their empire with the breaking up of the continent. He's known to hold conversations with his spirit animal for hours. People think he's a little off. The players, had previously arrived at Trewind in search of opportunity, where they disrupted a plot to bring down airships travelling to the city. Wreckers had set up a false lighthouse to the south of Trewind, and were luring ships to their doom, then mopping up the cargo. Letters discovered at the wrecker camp hinted at a larger conspiracy, but it has yet to reveal itself. Once in the city, the group took little time setting up shop, purchasing a storefront and upstairs rooms and advertizing as an adventuring band for hire: the Tradewind Company. They quickly gained some recognition by returning the stolen cargo to its merchant owners and closing down an illegal fencing operation. This recognition was rewarded when they were approached by a man with a proposition. A gnomish wizard researcher by the name of Guttlegurge had stumbled upon the location for the famous Library of Lenj, a mythical library said to hold knowledge from before the Sundering, located in the ancient Aquilonian capitol of Tartaron. While conventional wisdom held that the library had been lost in the destruction that engulfed the Aquilonian people, rumors persisted of its survival, and occasionally a crazy, air-lost sailor would emerge with wild claims of an ancient ruin, hidden in the great Sea of Clouds, overrun with undead and monsters, and containing a single, great tower of clockwork gears. Guttlegurge had discovered one such sailor - a pirate set adrift with naught but an airship dingy and a sextant by his mutinous crew - who had had a presence of mind to record his coordinates when he discovered the ruins. Some gold got Guttlegurge the map. A chance encounter with his former crew in a bar at Trewind ensured that the unfortunate captain told no others his tale. His heart set, the bookish gnome set about gathering his resources for the great journey. The travel would take at least a week, and would take him into the Sea of Clouds. A great area of floatwood trees and floatbergs hidden by mists to the north of the Atalins, it was a haven for desperate pirates, who raided airlanes and fled to hidden ports. It was also home to great flying monsters and abberrations, whom the Quillari tribes - famous for their airsailors - fought to keep in check. He knew of a ship that might take him there: The Pelican, captained by Orndish Garganza, his second cousin (on his mother's side). But while Garganza's crew were a good set of sailors, and always ready for a fight, they were no adventurers. He would need body guards for his travels, protection against the threats amidst the ruins that the crazed sailor had warned of before his untimely death. It was at this time that stories of the Tradewind Company began to emerge, and the diminutive wizard knew that his adventurers had been found. In the next post I'll detail the actual start of the adventure... -Steve
Subversive 02-06-07, 02:17 AM	"I have a proposal for you..." Initially, James didn't know what to think of this diminutive bookworm. The mage looked like he spent too much time among the scrolls. His fingertips were permanently stained with black ink. He wore thick, overlarge glasses that gave him an owl-like appearance, and his ratty, often-patched robes had scrolls and ledgers spilling out of every pocket. He seemed to take notes on everything... Maybe there something there I can lift for a bit of profit, the rogue though idly, before brushing such thoughts aside. The chatty little man seemed to finally be getting to the point, "What this amounts to is an opportunity for your band to make a real name for yourselves, you see. And to make a tidy profit on the side." James' ears perked at that and thoughts of casual pick-pocketing vanished, "What kind of profit are we talking about here?" he feigned disinterest "Ancient riches, good human." Guttlegurge's squeaky voice was dead-serious, "And knowledge from before the sundering of the world. Have you ever heard of the Library of Lenj...?" The rogue was initially skeptical of the little wizard's story. Lenj was a myth, long dead and buried, and the gnome looked about one copper piece short of an empty purse. Still, there was something about the intensity of his story that led credibility to his claims. The rest of the company was relayed the tale, and it was decided that further investigation was called for. The band had lost two members recently, a ranger and paladin that had decided to part company. Still, three characters were enough to discover some basic information. Gerdy took it upon himself to check out their transport ship, The Pelican while James and Kent investigated the librarian himself. Initial checking with sources in the Sellspell District showed that Guttlegurge was a reliable, if forgettable, mage. It seemed clear that the latter weighed on the little gnome, and he was determined to make his mark on history. Still, evidence of his basic compitence reassured the group that they wouldn't simply be sailing to their deaths. Gerdy's investigation of the Pelican did not go quite as smoothly, unfortunately, as he took it upon himself to walk straight up to the ship and demand to speak with the captain unannounced. Even after being told that Captain Garganza was unavailable at that time, the odd gnome continued bombarding the crew with questions about their rigging until he was finally shooed away. Meeting back at their headquarters, the group agreed that the offer was reliable enough (and profitable enough) to accept, and made arrangements to meet with the scribe once more at a local inn and taphouse, The Dire Beer. There, Guttlegurge informed the band that he had taken it upon himself to enlist the services of a cleric, being concerned for their lack of holy representation when exploring a ruin said to be brimming with the undead. It was here that the party met the fiery Denick Mallorean, cleric to Durfindil Ember Eyes - Granitebones as he was called by some. Denick was soon to prove his value in combat and to be invited to join the Tradewind Company shortly after that. It was at the tavern that the band had their first encounter with the captain of The Pelican, Orndish Garganza, a wiley and flamboyant airsailor, who seemed more more at home in Deepsky then at port, and certainly fell closer to the category of privateer than tradeship sailor - complete with dagger-whip. The party was given four days to buy what supplies they would need, and make arrangements to be gone from the city for at least a month. * * * Four days passed by quickly, as the party brought aboard rations and supplies, and made arrangements to have the storefront minded and their own, small airboat guarded (spoils gleaned from the defeated wreckers). They quickly met the crew of the Pelican, an eclectic lot if ever there was one: Bodin, the halfling lookout who could climb rigging faster then most could run a dash, Forlani, a half elf hand of gold elf decent who always seemed to be on top of current events, Argalish, the Quillari spirit shaman airmaster - an irritable man who seemed to prefer staying in his cabin or abusing his apprentice, Laythin, than pulling his fair share of the work. Finally came Gamgal, the gnome cook and enginemaster, whose burned gruel Garganza insisted reminded him of home and tasted like it was made with 50% engine grease. It quickly became clear that quarters would be cramped on the small vessel - hammocks were stacked three high, and Guttlegurge seemed to have brough half of his laboritory with him on his back. The clutter of books, scrolls, do-dads, and investigative equipment took up what little floorspace was left after the adventurers had squared away their gear, leaving the chamber little more then a place to sleep when watch was finished. Still, with final preparations complete, the Pelican was away. Her blimp-top was full, and her propellers caught the wind as the crew crawled over her, securing lines and pulleys. The bird-like zepplin's beak-nose turned due north as she cleared the airbuoys of Trewind City. Her heading: the Sea of Clouds. Little did her crew know the dangerous skies she was flying into...
Subversive 02-11-07, 11:59 PM	Sorry guys. I wanted to post this a while back, but we're buying a house, and I lost all my work on this post twice!!! "I'm telling you, Bodin, there is no way you could have handled that wench in Daggerport. She would have eaten you with her afternoon tea," Forlani quipped as the two of them crouched down in the blimp-top crow's nest, huddling for warmth against the damn mist "Size is what matters, brother, and I've got size where it counts," the halfling returned. "Size, little one, is the one thing you..." the half-elf's jaw clicked shut, cutting off his comeback, as both their senses piqued. "Did you hear that," the halfling hissed, scanning the fog. "Yes. Leather wings. Many of them," It was times like this when he was grateful for his father's heritage, "look over there... they're circling." The whispering came to an end as Bodin's warning cry went up, "IXITXACHITL!!!" The first days of the Pelican's voyage had been uneventful, with only the occasional skywhaler ship sighted leagues distant. The group quickly adjusted to the cramped life of an airsailor, taking up duties onboard and learning more about the crew. James proved the most adept at this, having spent his youth aboard a tradeship. Still, after three days in deepsky, the looming walls of the Sea of Clouds grew close. Captain Garganza had been to the Sea before, and knew that the outer walls of the great cloudbank were the thickest and most difficult, but after a day of sailing, it might be possible to rise above the worst of it. He ordered the zepplin's engines to quarter speed as the fog enveloped them, to better sight dangerous floatbergs and floatwood tree stands - both ever-present threats in this region. It was after about a day of travel into the sea - just as the fog wall was thinning - that the Ixitxachitl attacked. Ixitxachitl (adapted from MMII) were a constant presence in the Sea of Clouds. They tended to raid smaller, poorly defended trade vessels whose skylanes brought them too close. Physically rather weak, they often attacked en-mass. What was truly feared were Vampiric Ixitxachitl. Hardier, deadlier, and able to drain a sailor's life force with a touch, these aberrations often led raiding bands against ships, and it was no exception here. There were six aberrations led by one Vampiric Ixitxachitl, but the group had been forewarned by the halfling's cry, and quickly grabbed their weapons and readied for a fight. The flying manta rays split into two groups - two harassing the lookouts on top of the blimp, and the rest attacking the crew on deck. Argalish remained inside his quarters for the fight, claiming he had not heard the warning, and Gamgal remained tending the engine, but Laythin quickly ran out and joined the fight. With their combined effort, the group was able to down three of the creatures in the first two rounds, but the combat was not over yet. From above the blimp came a cry of pain, as the vampiric monstrosity struck home, and Bodin felt part of his very soul ripped free. Forlani killed the other creature, and managed to cover the halfling as he slid down the lines onto the deck. The half elf followed a round later with the angered beast in hot pursuit. With 4 of the creatures killed outright, the group focused on the leader. This proved a challenge, as the thing healed surprisingly quick. Regardless, it was dead three rounds later, and the last two survivors fled back into the cover of the fog to lick itheir wounds. The group quickly assessed their damage. Bodin was the most injured, and looked pale from the draining touch of the creature, but he was able to shake off much of the effects a day later with some assistance from Denick. Kent had received a few scratches, but beyond that, the ship and people aboard it were fine.
Subversive 02-16-07, 08:27 PM	The next several days of travel were ones of relative calm. The Pelican had penetrated past the high fog-walls that protected the Sea of Clouds, and rose to cruise above the ceiling-cover. All the while, Captain Garganza maintained a close heading toward the coordinates indicated by the dead pirate. Towering cloudbanks rose all around the tiny zeppelin as it drew closer to its destiny, and a cold wind blew from the north against its bow, warding it away from what was to come. The tiny vessel continued on undaunted. It was three days after their last battle that Forlani sighted another ship from the crow’s nest. It was a small raker, cruising parallel to their vessel off the port stern. The group immediately scrambled and armed. Everyone knew that a ship sighted in the Sea of Clouds could only mean one thing... PIRATES! Interestingly, Garganza and the rest of the Pelican’s crew remained unworried by this development. It seemed that they were familiar with the pirates of the Cloud Sea, and had dealings with them in the past. This led to some speculation among the party about the Pelican’s true profession, and more then a few questions about its many armaments (The gnomish vessel sported two small catapults atop its rigid envelope – fore and aft of the crow’s nest – and three small ballista on the deck). Regardless of familiarity, and ignoring any mutterings from the PC’s, Garganza kept the Pelican distant from the other airship until its intentions were known, and ordered Laythin to rouse his windmaster, Argalish, by force if necessary. Moments, many curses, and a bruised skull on Laythin’s part later, Argalish emerged from below decks, angrily pulling at his robes, to see what “all this meaningless commotion was about.” Garganza silenced the Quillari windmaster with a look and ordered use of the signal beacon to communicate with the other ship. He wanted to see what the suspicious vessel had in mind. The PC’s waited tensely as messages were flashed rapidly back and forth. Moments later came the result. The other vessel wanted a parlay. It seemed that they had injured crew aboard, and had no cleric to provide healing. Garganza seemed distrustful of this – as did the PC’s – but cautiously ordered engine speed reduced to 3/4ths. Slowly the other vessel approached to a thousand feet of the Pelican. The PCs could make out small figures moving around the deck. Suddenly a call came from the Forlani in the crow’s nest, “Captain!” the half-elf cried, “Full speed! That’s no pirate! That’s an Isilmari scoutship, I’d stake my bones upon it!!!” Isilmari?!? What were the elves of Isilmar doing this far in Darnallin-claimed airspace? The PC’s wondered if the grey elves had some plot in the works. The crew sprang to action. Argalish cast Favorable Wind, one of his best spells for speed (from Stormwrack). Garganza ordered the engines up to full power. He seemed confident in the speed of his little vessel, moreso because it appeared that the other airship had no windmaster of its own. Moments later his smile faded as two dots detached from the enemy craft, and a yell came down from the crow’s nest, “Hippogriffs!!!” Riding the beasts were two elvish rangeriders, rangers of the empire that specialized in raiding and disabling enemy vessels using their bonded mounts. Fast as the Pelican was, it was no match for the wings of the great horse-eagles. Inspiration flashed in the mind of James. What about the ballistas and catapults? Surely they would be of great use defending the ship against the enemy vessel? A bemused look flashed across Garganza’s face, “Well… yeh see… them’s is more fer show then they is fer fighting. Truth be told, they ain’t ever been used, and I bought ‘em on discount from a decommissioning sale. What’s more, none of us know one end of them from the other…” James could only stare at the little gnome privateer blankly. Moments later the elvish riders were upon them. One rider circled high, firing arrow after arrow in protection of her partner, while the other rider swung his hippogriff onto the deck, jumping off by the deck hatch, and using his mount as cover. A word of elvish commanded the creature to guard the spot while he ran below decks. The party knew that the elf’s goal was likely disabling the zeppelin’s engine, but with the enormous, winged beast blocking their only way down, the party could not pursue him. Kent raced forward with a flying kick that connected squarely with the creature’s ribs, while Laythan cast a fire spell against the beast, and soon the smell of flaming feathers and horsehair filled the deck. Gerdy followed up the attack with a magic missile of his own, while James peppered the creature with bolts. The hippogriff responded with several raking slashes that tore open Kent’s arm, and bloodied Denick, but by this point the creature was badly hurt. Denick followed up with the final blow, a great swing of his hammer, which cracked the creature’s skull open, and spilled its brains all over the deck. While the rest of the crew concentrated on the other rangerider, and Argalish maintained his spell, James, Laythan, and Kent raced to get down the stairs that led to the lower deck. Gerdy remained up above to assist defending against the other rider. Beneath them they could hear the sounds of combat. James raced down to see little Gamgal, the cook and engineer, going toe to toe against a fully armed rangerider with nothing but a frying pan in each hand and a pot over his head. It was clear that he was quickly losing the fight. Already he had several deep gashes on his chest and forehead, and the elf still seemed at full health. The stealthy rogue forwent his usual sneakiness in a rush to aid the little gnome, leaping down the Pelican’s stairs three at a time with Kent right behind him. Seeing the reinforcements quick on his heals, the elf vaulted for the stairs on the far side of the galley, leading to the engine and cargo deck of the ship. Up top, Gerdy fired another magic missile at the yet-airborn elf, who dipped her hippogriff down past the starboard gunwale of the boat and under the keel, avoiding a shot from Gerdy's crossbow, and flying out of the line of sight of the defending crew and wizard. Laythan, Kent, and James continued their pursuit of the elvish boarder into the cargo hold of the Pelican. Curiously, however, the invading ranger did not make for the stern of the boat where the elemental-bound engine sat. Perhaps the elf saw he was outmatched and would be defeated before accomplishing his mission. Instead the rider ran for the forward cargo hold, and closed the hatch behind him mere seconds before James could reach him. The lanky rogue tried in vain to force the hatch open, but found that it was locked. Instead of bashing away at it in vain, he decided to wait for reinforcements. Meanwhile, up on the deck, Gerdy could see no sign of the other rangerider. Moments later, as Denick finally caught up to the rest of the group below deck, James felt a rush of air coming through the seams of the door, and words spoken in elvish. None of the characters knew the language, but all of them realized that the front cargo bay doors had been opened, and that the invading elf was no longer alone. “Brace yerselves, boys,” shouted the gruff dwarven cleric, as they readied for the renewed assault. The players waited tensely for the door to open, but surprisingly that was not the case. Instead, James heard the sound of doors closing… then silence. Up on the deck, Gerdy and the crew spotted the yet-living hippogriff flying away, now bearing two riders. The gnome wizard got off one last shot with his crossbow before the elvish rangers and their mount were completely out of range. Not knowing what was occurring above-deck, Denick suspected something foul was afoot, and immediately started bashing at the door with all of his strength. Two rounds later, the door was in splinters, and the cargo hold was revealed as completely empty, save for barrels, crates, and a curious, dark metal disk hidden behind one of the cargo nets. They would have missed it were it not for James’ sharp eyes. A knowledge check from Laythan revealed the item’s grim purpose: a blast disk – an explosive charge powerful enough to completely destroy this section of the ship (taken from Heroes of Battle). And the bow cargo hold was directly under the Pelican’s bridge!!! Desperately, the characters tried to open the bow cargo bay doors, only to find them jammed. It took another two rounds to bash open the lock. The doors swung open, letting in a stiff, damp wind, and tendrils of mist from the cloud layer below them. James threw the disk out of the opening as hard and as fast as he could, and moments later a bright, yellow ball of fire blossomed 50 feet below the little zeppelin, followed by a deafening boom close behind it. The three PCs made their way back to the upper deck. By this point, Garganza had put some distance between the Pelican and the elvish raker, which was a small dot thousands of feet behind them. He was descending the little transport into the layer of clouds beneath them with the intent to hide their ship from pursuit. Moments later mist and fog enveloped the zeppelin, and the other ship had vanished from sight. Garganza explained that this was a risky move; he could not afford to slow their ship down, but in the cloud layer they were effectively blind to any floatbergs – small masses of floatstone that could prove the death of an airship – in the air in front of them. He sent Kent up to the crow’s nest, where Forlani still kept watch, with word to send the crow’s nest aloft. Kent was a bit confused by this until he reached the top of the zeppelin’s envelope and relayed the message. Fornali asked him to climb inside the crow’s nest bucket, then started turning a crank. A mast extended above him, and a sail-wing unfurled, and moments later Kent realized that the crow’s nest could be converted into a miniature glider! His eyes widened in surprise, and Forlani gave a rakish grin, ”whatever gods you worship… I hope they’re with you now…” Before Kent could mount a protest, the half elf kicked a lever with his foot, and the simple monk was a hundred feet above the speeding zeppelin, just out of the cloud cover, and attached to the ship only by a thin line of rope! Winds buffeted the tiny glider, causing it to whip back and forth on its line. All Kent could do was hold on for dear life! Then he heard Garganza’s gruff voice coming through a tube at the front of the bucket, “yer still alive up there, monk?” Garganza quickly explained that control of the glider was handled by shifting your balance from one side of the bucket to the other. A few balance checks by the nimble monk later, Kent had the feel of the glider, and was under control enough that he could afford a look around. In the far distance, to the south, he could just make out the small dot of the enemy scout ship. A smaller dot – which could only be the rangerider – was patrolling around the vessel, but didn’t seem to have spotted his glider. Garganza sounded relieved, and a renewed confidence came into his voice. He used the little glider like a buoy, to gauge their depth into the cloud layer, and continued traveling north. By nightfall, the crew and players were confident they had lost the other vessel, and Garganza returned the Pelican to open sky. The ship assessed its damage. Kent had been the most badly injured of the PC’s, taking direct attacks from the hippogriff, and both Forlani and Argalish had taken arrows from the airborne rider. Gamgal was also badly hurt, but refused to leave his post at the engine until the danger had fully passed. There was also the forward cargo hold, whose outer doors needed to be repaired before the zeppelin could regain its full speed. The crew got to work on ship repairs while Denick provided magical healing, courtesy of Durfindel Embereyes. An hour later, the ship was flying at full steam, and the crew and party were eating dinner in the galley, discussing the meaning behind the attack. Clearly the elf ship was not supposed to be there, and clearly it had not wanted to be discovered. Everyone agreed that the turn of events boded poorly for the current tensions between Darnallus and Isilmar. Forlani, a half elf of Argenti descent, made few comments about the incident, but it seemed to weigh heavily on his mind. The party hunkered down for sleep, with PC’s rotating through ship’s watch for the duration of the night. By morning an excited Guttlegurge roused those who had managed some sleep. He had apparently spent the entire battle in his quarters, engrossed in his maps. Now he raced around their quarters, shaking the PCs awake, “WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!! WE’RE HERE!!!!” The characters slowly got up and emerged from their refuge. The ship had come to a stop. In the distance, breaking through the thick layer of clouds, stood a lonely tower of cogs and gears. Growing over the tower, and entwining it with enormous roots and branches, was a massive tree of truly mind-boggling proportions. The Pelican had discovered The Library of Lenj. Now all they had to do was live to tell the tale…
Caligula 02-20-07, 05:25 PM	Very well written by a DM who knows how to tell a story masterly. Your players seem very experienced. How about introducing your group a little bit? The guys behind the scenes.... And thanks for reminding me how much I love ships and sailing across the sea in search of treasure and adventure. We haven't played in such a scenery since AD&D "The Savage Coast".... in another life.... ;) I like how you build the characters in the game...."They are more fer show" - regarding the ballistas! Hahaha, I would have thrown him off the ship mind you! :D BTW, do you use "Shipwrecked!" and it's rules for seafaring, or do you just go with the simple DMG outlines? And finally: Masterly written recap! :)
Subversive 02-20-07, 06:30 PM	Very well written by a DM who knows how to tell a story masterly. Your players seem very experienced. How about introducing your group a little bit? The guys behind the scenes.... And thanks for reminding me how much I love ships and sailing across the sea in search of treasure and adventure. We haven't played in such a scenery since AD&D "The Savage Coast".... in another life.... ;) I like how you build the characters in the game...."They are more fer show" - regarding the ballistas! Hahaha, I would have thrown him off the ship mind you! :D BTW, do you use "Shipwrecked!" and it's rules for seafaring, or do you just go with the simple DMG outlines? And finally: Masterly written recap! :) Thanks, Caligula! Good to hear your response! I use the rules from Stormwrack, I'm not sure if that's the book you were referring to. It's a fantastic book, as with all the environment books (Cityscape being an exception, regretably). I've really enjoyed using airships in this campaign so far. It's tough, especially since you have to track 3-dimensional movement, and also because it can introduce unbalancing game options to the players early on in the level system (after all, why treck through that rugged terrain when you can fly over most of the encounters). It also threatens to require some serious rewrites to the adventure when I introduce Red Hand of Doom. Still, it's a lot of fun cinematically. My biggest influences for the campaign setting were the Death Gate novel series and Hayao Miyazaki's fantastic movies - notably Laputa: Castle in the Sky. I always try to be careful in keeping the focus on the PC's, since with so many other colorful characters, it's easy for a DM to end up just playing the adventure against himself, and that seriously detracts from the players' sense of accomplishment. I have five players in my group currently, and three others that are inactive. Gerdy, the gnome wizard, is played by my wife, who's been in all my DM'd games since the beginning. Kent, the human monk, is played by my friend, Alex, who I met through someone else's game and basically stole. He's a big fan of D&D, and plays something like two or three other games on the side. Laythan, the human spirit shaman, and Denick, the dwarven cleric, are played by two friends of his, Charlie and Mike, that he introduced to our table to replace two departing friends. Mike, especially, really gets into the role-playing aspect and often wins the vote for best role-playing of the session. Lastly is my and my wife's friend, Nathalie, who runs James, the rogue. She was introduced to my table through her husband and continues to play with us despite having brought three children into the world (two at the same time, even!) since we began our game together. Her husband is one of our inactive players at the moment. We get together only once a month, unfortunately. It's harder to play more often just due to everyone's schedules (and the fact that one player has to drive from Delaware to north-central NJ to play the game with us). Still, we've been playing for years now, and it's a tight-knit group of people. The next meeting is Saturday, the 24th, but I still haven't caught up to their current point in my recap. They've already explored the ruins around the Library of Lenj, and begun exploring the ground level inside. I hope to be caught up with the current adventure by the end of this week. -Steve
Caligula 02-20-07, 06:38 PM	Yes, sorry, I meant Stormwrack of course.... :embarrass You seem to have a great group there and I can only agree that there will be few and far between the sessions when everyone of the players can make it. We play all the time when at least 2 can make it. I think continuity is extremely important for a campaign. Thanks for the answers! :)
Subversive 02-20-07, 06:59 PM	Yes, sorry, I meant Stormwrack of course.... :embarrass You seem to have a great group there and I can only agree that there will be few and far between the sessions when everyone of the players can make it. We play all the time when at least 2 can make it. I think continuity is extremely important for a campaign. Thanks for the answers! :) Yeah, it's hard for me to play with so few characters. I think that it keeps the other people more invested in the group. If we were to ramp up the sessions, I'm sure that three of the people would be able to make it, but the other two would probably just drop out, and that would be a shame. Also my would would seal my doom since we have the games at our little apartment, and she doesn't want to deal with the mess and clean up (both after and before people arrive :p ) more then once every three weeks at the most. -Steve
Subversive 02-20-07, 08:44 PM	A new post will be up later tonight as the group finally starts exploring the ancient city of Tartaron and the Library of Lenj!
Subversive 02-21-07, 12:58 AM	Chapter 2 The lifeless dirt crunched under Denick’s iron-shod boots as he walked past the first of the ruins. ”The gods have forgotton this place…” he thought, ”Wise Anvil, lend me your strength for what we will face this day.” As if in response, a thready wind rustled past the low, ruined walls. It tumbled by the dwarf, stirring pebbles as it went, creating a mournfull keening as it blew into the ancient window holes of lost Tartaron – a hollow, dark, and shattered place, forgotten for a thousand years since the disaster that shattered the continent. The group stood at the edge of the ruined city. In the distance sat the great Library of Lenj, a massively wide building with great stairs leading to a columned entrance under a central dome. Behind the dome rose the great tower of cogs and gears they had first sighted from the deck of the Pelican. Entwining it was an epic oak tree, and both the tower and tree trunk disappeared into the rolling ceiling of clouds. Try as he might, Denick could not remember having seen the sun since landing on this rock, and suspected it would be a long time since he felt it on his face once more. The roiling clouds thickened, and the dim light faded even further as the mournfull keening of the wind seemed to heighten. He sighed and rubbed the iron holy symbol chained around his neck. The relief image of the Anvil of Durfindel gave him some small peace. The cleric paused, and the rest of the party sensed his wariness. Something was wrong. The air was dark, darker then it should be even under this cursed sky. Something tugged at the edges of his mind, but the keening wind made it hard to think. Then he saw a blob of darkness float around the corner of the ruined building, and realized that it wasn’t the wind keening at all. As a tendril stretched hungrily for his warm flesh he remembered the warning of the gnome librarian, Guttlegurge: here the dead found no rest… Despite Guttlegurge’s impatience and complaining, Captain Garganza took his time approaching the ruined island. He descended below the cloud layer, which was thin in this area, to get a better look at the ancient library and its surroundings. Their vantage revealed more then the group could have hoped: an actual remnant of the city itself had survived! It stood on a thin shelf of floatstone on the northern rim of the island shard. A forest had reclaimed the majority of the island, but this thinned out toward the remaining city buildings. The only living thing visible amongst the city remnant was the strange and massive tree that grew out of the library tower itself. Captain Garganzap informed the group (and the anxious Guttlegurge) that the ship would take no chances with the lost city. He landed the Pelican on the southern tip of the island, furthest from the library. The party quickly kitted up and steadied their nerves. As they departed the zeppelin, the crew gave their farewells. They had fought and shed blood side by side, and the group’s return was in no way guaranteed. As they moved for the gangplank, Garganza offered one last nugget of wisdom, ”Farewell to yeh all, tread with care, and if yer not back in seven days’ time, we’re ta consider yeh dead and leave without yeh.” Those words of encouragement given, the group departed, and were soon out of sight of the Pelican, their home for the past week’s time. The forest was eerily quiet. There were no animals. No birds. The only signs of like were the small forest insects that the group trampled underfoot. Laythan knew the ways of the wilderness, and was able to guide them on a true heading through the dense foliage. Their trek continued for most of the day, with only a brief pause for mid-day meal. By late in the afternoon, the weak light was starting to fade, but the group noticed that the forest were thinning. Soon the trees started growing strange, with twisted, ripped branches and huge tumors growing out of the bark. A short time later the group saw the trees they were passing were stunted or dead entirely. As they came over a small rise, there the ancient city stood, or at least what was left of it. What could be seen was a cluster of buildings, worn away by the passing ages. Further north stood what appeared to be an ancient temple – though to what god could not be told – and beyond that stood the great library at the far edge of the ruins. The group proceeded cautiously. The ruins appeared abandoned, but that was certainly no guarantee they wouldn’t run into trouble. Those worries soon bore fruit, as the group encountered two vasuthants almost immediately after reaching the edge of the ruins (from Libris Mortis). The undead abominations were similar to shadows, in that they drained strength, and could actually control the level of light around them. However, they were corporeal beings, and thus vulnerable to attack by the party. Laythan quickly learned that his chastise spirit ability had little effect against the creatures, and pined for the day when he would be able to discern whether a being was a spirit or not at a glance. The creatures attacked blindly, seeking the creature of most perceived strength. This proved to be Denick, who failed his first check to turn undead, and felt the numbing tendril of shadow wrap around his arm. The dwarf was too large, however, and the creatures could not successfully grapple him. Kent attacked and missed, while James’ crossbow shot went wide. Gerdy’s magic missile spell found its mark, however, and the dark nimbus around one of the undead things seemed to weaken for a moment. The wounded undead immediately moved to attack Gerdy (who had a great deal to fear, as he only possessed 5 strength). Unfortunately, it was not to complete its attack, as this time, the dwarven cleric found the strength of his god. The anvil on his holy symbol glowed red with power, and the Strength Under the Mountains banished both creatures back to the Abyss. Relatively unscathed, the party continued on. They seemed to be on an ancient thoroughfare leading toward the library, but decided to explore the ruined buildings as they went. They were quickly set upon by a pack of three carcass eaters (taken again from Libris Mortis), emerging from a nearby ruin. The party quickly killed two of the animals, and the third one fled with its tail between its legs when its pack-mates died. Kent had sustained a few small scratches, but nothing that couldn’t be healed. While exploring the building that the animals had emerged from, James failed to detect a yellow mold trap, which detonated. Luckily, the exposed members all made their saving throws (I was a little annoyed by that one), and were still able to continue. The party headed for the western side of the thoroughfare at this point, and discovered a largely intact building, where two ghouls quickly set upon them. Again, Denick was the main target for the attack. One of the creatures scored a bite through his armor, but he successfully resisted the paralysis that the creature’s attack caused. This time the dwarf’s power came easily, and the creatures were destroyed moments later by waves of positive energy. Denick examined his wounds and noted that the bite seemed angry and infected already. He knew it would need treating to avoid the onset of ghoul fever. The group explored the inside of the building, which seemed to be an ancient tavern. Part of the floor had collapsed, but that didn’t stop James from exploring the edge of the hole. Unfortunately, he missed his reflex save as the floor collapsed further, and moments later found himself in the basement, rubbing his rear from the impact. The event was not without reward, however, as the rogue found a chest hidden in the corner. Opening it on the spot, the treasure chest revealed a pouch of ancient gold (a few of which found their way to the thief’s pockets) a potion, and a deadly-looking crossbow that showed itself to be magical once James presented it to the others in the group. The party was feeling confident, and decided to check out the temple at this point. It was revealed to be a temple dedicated to the Norinth, goddess of justice and light, and revered most often by paladins. Interestingly, the structure was entirely intact, with little visible wear from the long years of neglect. The party assumed that it must have been preserved by magic. Opening the tall doors, the group found a large chapel, with a raised altar at the head. Dim light was shining through the western windows, but it was quickly fading to night. Outside, the group could hear things stirring among the ancient buildings, as the unloving inhabitants of the ruined city came awake. The group closed the doors and cautiously advanced toward the altar. Moments later, they were beset by a quell (from Libris Mortis again), attacking from the rear of the temple. The incorporeal creature was a much greater threat for the party then what they had faced so far, as standard weapons had no hope of damaging it. Worse, the thing had gained first initiative. Runes danced in the air around its head, and a wave of dark power flashed out from it, encompassing the party. At first, the group didn’t realize what had happened. They all felt the same. Then Denick and Laythan’s eyes opened in horror. They had been severed from their abilities. All their divine spells were blocked, as was Denick’s ability to turn undead. The fight had just gone from difficult to deadly. A dusty laugh emerged from the creature as it moved in to attack. Fortunately, Laythan found that he could still chastise spirits, and the quell was indeed a spirit creature. His ability manifested, burning at the undead being’s very essence. But the quell was far from defeated. It targeted the spirit shaman, and it’s chilling touch attacks started taking deadly effect on the Quillari tribesman. James came to the assist with his newly found crossbow, but was not able to find the target. Gerdy proved more effective with another magic missile, his last of the day. Again the shaman’s chastise ability went off, but the quell was not down yet, and scored another strike. James’ arrow seemed to hit the mark this time, only to see his shot pass through the creature. Desperate to help, Denick scanned the chamber, and then his eyes lit up. Over by the entrance was a bowl of holy water. It seemed that the ancient magic that protected this building had preserved the water as well. Picking up the entire bowl, and cursing the undead creature as he did, the angry cleric poured the entire contents over the vessel over its ethereal body. Suddenly the tide of the battle was reversed. Summoning his last use of the ability, Laythan chastised the spirit, burning away the last of its undead essence. The group was in a bad way now. Lacking any healing, and in poor health, they decided to bunker down in the church for the night. A brief exploration found usable chambers in the rear of the temple, behind the altar. Furthermore, it seemed that the temple was warded against most undead – quells, with their ability to suppress divine magic, seeming the only exception. Even after several minutes, the divine abilities of the cleric and spirit shaman had not yet returned. The group needed time to recuperate, and this seemed as good a place as any.
Subversive 03-07-07, 12:14 AM	Day 2 or how I learned to stop worrying and love the tomb After spending a relatively restful and uninterrupted night in the church sanctuary, the group decided to explore the building further. Wards to prevent undead intrusion had been restored with the destruction of the quell, and though still cautious, everyone felt relatively comfortable in their safety. An exploration of the remaining temple was called for, and the group cautiously entered the temple’s living area through a door behind the altar. The structure seemed thankfully free of occupying monsters here. However, several mummified bodies were found in the temple’s bedchambers – monks and priests of ancient Tartaron who had died in the catastrophe. Several holy symbols were recovered, as well as some valuable pieces of artwork. Searching one of the storage areas, James located an area of stonework in the floor that was seemed intended for removal. In the opening was a ladder leading down and a darkened chamber could barely be made out in the dim light. Cautious now, the group descended the rusted rungs, and found themselves in a darkened chamber that not even Denick’s dwarven sight could reveal the extent of. It seemed clear this was a tomb, though what lurked down here waiting for them, the party could hardly guess. Guttlegurge discovered a glyph on the wall by the rungs, and activated its magic. The room lit a cool blue, as runes and sigils across the floor and ceiling awoke to radiance. All around them were sarcophagi, and in the center of the room, was an upright crystal tube containing the form of a humanoid. Guttlegurge became excited at this, and lost his sense of caution, running toward the tube before being restrained by the group. More warily, and keeping a close eye on the other tombs, the group approached. The form inside was indeed humanoid, but constructed of silvery metal and wood, rather then of flesh. It was a warforged – a rarity in the world of Arannus, and seen mostly in the elven Hegemony of Isilmar. “I don’t think it’s dead!” the excited gnome announced, “I think it might still be revivable!” The party wondered at this: here was a creature that had lived in the golden age of Aquilon! An actual survivor of the great Cataclysm that had broken the continent! What secrets would it know? What did it know of that ancient disaster? The little gnome librarian had to know! Guttlegurge spent the next two hours studying the runes and sigils around the crystal vial, poring over his extensive collection of books and notations. Finally, he announced that he believed he could decipher them. He could wake the sleeping being. “The magic is still potent,” he said, “I will attempt to activate it now. It’s important that you all prepare yourselves for what might happen. For all I know, I might be invoking a repeat of the Cataclysm, though that is unlikely to the extreme. Brace for the unexpected.” Reaching forward, he touched a series of glowing runes that flashed beneath his hand. The flashing moved out to other runes around the tube, and then runes around the room. Soon the entire room was lit with a staccato of symbols, flashing independently of Guttlegurge’s control. There was a great flare of magic, and then… The vial seemed to melt away into a mist, filling the chamber and obscuring the hibernating construct from sight. The symbols of the chamber went dark, plunging the room into blackness. Gurdy cast a light spell, which allowed the group some feeble illumination. Then from out of the gloom, the group saw a flicker of incandescence. The mist cleared and the party could see the creature standing there. The small rune carved on its forehead had come alight, and flickered with a weird fire. The warforged looked at them all for a moment, said something in an ancient tongue, and collapsed into a heap on the floor.* *This was the point where my player, Alex decided to introduce a new character. He felt that his monk wasn’t suited for this game. It was a little inconvenient, as they’re on a lost skyland and all, but I ran with it.
Subversive 03-09-07, 09:45 PM	Day 2 (continued) Cast of Characters: Denick – Dwarven Cleric, lvl 2 of Durfindel Embereyes Gerdy – Gnomish Generalist Wizard, lvl 2 James – Human Rogue, lvl 2 Kent – Human Monk, lvl 2, sworn to poverty Laythan – Human Spirit Shaman, one of the Quilari, survivors of the ancient realm of Aquilon. Unnamed Aquilonian Warforged – Name, class, and level… unknown… Cognitive operations restored to full functionality. Status assessment. . . Status checks OK. ”Incoherant Speech sounds” Error. Motor functions not fully restored. Oral Motor functions not fully restored. Communication untenable. Scanning memory. . . Memory access negative. Auditory input… “Is it alive? It’s not moving. I don’t see it breathing…” auditory input functioning at 100% “It’s a warforged, idiot! It doesn’t need to breath!” Language matches no known dialect. "Stay on your guard. It looks harmless right now, but that doesn't mean it isn't hostile." Visual input functions restored. Registering one gnome male, one human male, one gnome male, one human male, one dwarf male, one human male. Oral motor functions restored. Second communication attempt: ”Donalli sel cal’vael tun dollamor?” Human male: ”What’s it saying? That’s not elvish…” Human male: “That sounds like Quilari! But it’s hard to understand… the inflections are all different” Gnome male: ”Of course it sounds like Quilari! It’s speaking Aquilonian, your language’s mother tongue. I will try to communicate with it. Be on your guard.” Gnome male: “Sul’ari sel Tartaron’en doniel vae’el?” Contact. Initial dialogue with the warforged proved difficult, as no one except Guttlegurge actually understood the dead language of Aquilon. In this regards, Laythan proved the most help when he and the living construct discovered that they could communicate with each other with a great deal of effort.* The being had no immediate memory of how it came to be in the crystal tube, nor – to the grand disappointment of Guttlegurge – did it have memories of anything else, even its own name. Only thin wisps of recollection were present, an image of a great skyship of silver metal, held aloft by a ring of fire… a recollection of looking over the great Aquilonian capitol, with the Golden Eagle pennant flying from every rooftop. These images were gone as quickly as they came to its mind, and as it had no recollection of distrust or betrayal, it willingly followed this group of strangely dressed creatures (it did not know why they seemed strangely dressed) up to the empty chapel. Once there, it remembered its function. The warforged was a Duskblade, trained for the defense of the church of Norinth. This military bent was in a great deal of contradiction to the modern incarnation of Norinth, who is venerated for her portfolios of Justice and Law, and most often by crusaders and paladins. The construct was sure of its purpose: a weapon against the enemies of the Glorious Lady. The group took their time explaining to the warforged character all of the changes that had become of his homeland. This was, again, rather difficult to accomplish, as they had to act through Guttlegurge’s translations, and the gnome was more interested in studying the amnesiac warforged then updating it. As it had few real recollections of its time in Tartaron, the being took the news of its destruction surprisingly well. It agreed to accompany the group for the time being, and the party agreed to help it until its memory had (hopefully) recovered. During this time, it and Laythan seemed to form somewhat of a bond. The Spirit Shaman was a more sympathetic ally, and while communication between the two remained difficult, it was possible. The party, with its new ally, resumed exploring of the ruins around the Library – not confidant to actually enter the library as of yet. The warforged Duskblade had no weapons or armor, and indeed no clothes or items of any sort. He (and he was now starting to think of himself as a he) also had no spell components, which concerned him greatly. There were two more encounters with the city’s unliving inhabitants. The first was two ghouls, one of whom scored a vicious bite on Denick before being annihilated by his holy power. The second was with a slaymate and her pet carrion eater in the ruined basement of an ancient barracks – just southwest of the library itself**. Again, Denick received an infected bite before the two. He would be hard at work treating them for the next two days with his healing skill. The worst point was when the entire party triggered a patch of yellow mold. No one was killed, but James and Kent failed to resist the health-draining effects of its poisonous spores. The group was able to locate some ancient potions – a potion of barkskin and one of resist elements (acid) 10. James also located a chest of Aquilonian Talons*** after he fell through a rotten floor into a basement. The warforged was happy to find some old ashes, which he could use as a spell component, and borrowed a spare backpack from one of the group members to hold them in. Having finished their exploration of the ruined city remnant, the group now focused on the library. The main doors were easily forty feet high, made of bronze, and bore bas-reliefs of grand and ancient deeds. The group distrusted this entrance entirely. They decided instead to circumnavigate the exterior, and seek another way in. Walking along the western wall, moving south, they did indeed discover a small hole in the southwest corner of the building, about 20 feet up. James threw a grappling hook, which caught, and began climbing with a mind to explore the inside. He quickly changed his mind when he heard movement from inside at the 15-foot mark, and slid back down to his waiting companions. They continued their exploration around the skirt of the building. The clockwork tower was on the eastern side of the building, and they could see that the dire oak tree grew straight from the ground, hugging the tower the entire way up. Its great roots had bored into the north wing and collapsed it entirely, but had not yet succeeded in breaking into the southern section. The group examined the rubble of the north wing, looking for a quiet entrance, but found that the large roots blocked any easy access to the surviving part of the building. At this point, it was growing late in the day. The party had been in the city for two days, and had five left before Captain Garganza left them to their fate. The group decided to trek back to the Pelican so they could reset the clock, so to speak. But they couldn’t just leave the library completely unexplored. Before they departed, the decided to open the great bronze doors and take a peek inside. Maintained by an ancient spell, the doors turned silently in their hinges. Before them stood a great atrium – a grand dome that rose to upwards of a hundred feet, with a small oculus at the center point of the ceiling, and great frescos depicting the ancient world, pre-sundering, circling around it. In the center of the floor stood a small reflecting pool, designed to cleverly catch the falling rainwater from the oculus. At the center of the pool was the statue of a woman on a pedastle, seemingly the goddess, Norinth, bearing an ornately carved spear. The group didn’t explore and further then this, and grabbing their kits, made back for the Pelican. A half-day’s march stood before them and their goal, and the sun was setting fast. *…and a DC 12 intelligence check ** From Libris Mortis *** The Aquilonian gold piece
Subversive 03-09-07, 09:48 PM	In my next post, I'll detail some of the major gods and goddesses of the Arannus campaign setting. I've been mentioning them to some extent in my posts, and I think they deserve further explanation
Subversive 03-09-07, 11:54 PM	Arannus Deities The following are the major Arannus deities, both good and evil. Obviously there are more in the setting, and gaggles of minor gods and demigods to boot, but these represent the most popular or the most infamous. Obviously Tiamat, while not represented here, is a known threat, as this is the obvious tie into RHoD. Alluvinim (CN) – Water, Moon, Illusion, Chaos Alluvinim is the goddess of the moon, tides, and illusion. While water isn’t an overwhelming commodity on Arranus, many of the larger contests have inland seas, and fishermen sacrifice to her. The other face of Alluvinim is of lycanthropy, and were-creatures of all alignments venerate her. Most of Alluvinim’s other worshippers tend to be druids who have embraced the beast aspect of their abilities, or illusionists who seek power through her changing nature. Freyil (NG) – Animal, Good, Balance, Renewal Freyil is the goddess of animals and beasts, and is revered by many hunters and woodsmen, who give thanks to her for the continuation of the cycle of life. Her worshippers urge not to over-stress the land by hunting too many animals, and not to be wasteful with what is used. Temples to Freyil tend to be small, individual affairs, where hunters make burnt offerings in thanks for an animal’s life they have taken, but occasionally appear as druid rings in the wilder parts of Arannus. Her sign is two ornate stag’s horns before a field of blue. Durfindel Ember-eyes (LG) – Earth, Law, Good, Strength, Craft Durfindel is the god of the dwarves, and of the strength beneath the mountains. He is also called Granitebones and Wise Anvil. He encourages the crafting of fine works and the harmony of community. Dwarves will construct massive temples to him, often taking many generations in the crafting. His symbol is a bellows pump. Graag (LE) – War, Evil, Law, Trickery, Graag is god of goblinoids, and is known as The Skulker, Backstabber, and Little Poison. His followers believe in dominance through assassination, murder, and lies. His symbol is a black dagger dripping blood. Evil rogues and assassins will often sacrifice to Graag before performing a job. Grummsh (CE) – Chaos, Evil, War, Strength Grummsh is the god of orcs, and remains the same here as in every world. Grund Rootheart (N) – Plant, Renewal, Earth, Animal Grund is called the Deep Lord, Father of the Wild, Plant Master, Lifegiver and Lifetaker. He is the god of nature and the cycles of the earth, both in life and death, and is overwhelmingly worshipped by druids, barbarians, rangers, and hunters of all alignments. His symbol is a leafed stalk, one side budding, and the other wilting. Haestus (CN) – Strength, War, Retribution, Chaos Haestus, whose titles include Fickle Warrior and The Bloody Axe, is the god of war and battle. Barbarians and fighters of all types and alignments, who sacrifice in vain hope of some favor on the field of valor, worship him, though he rarely answers prayers. It is said that Haestus cares not who wins in war, only that it is fought well and glory is earned. His symbols are the gauntleted fist and the blooded axe. Iolath (NG) – Good, Air, Wind, Travel, Trade Iolath is a steady active force in the life of any airship sailor and the patron god of the gnomes. His temples are found in any large, trading town, and small alters can be found on many ships that ply the skies. His clerics are well received by merchants, who tribute him in hope of their caravels avoiding pirate and storm. Bards and Rogues often worship him, and many itinerant monks regard him with respect. His symbol is a wind-blown cloud. Kraggoth (CE) – Destruction, Storm, Evil, Chaos Kraggoth is the god of Storm. Called Old Thunder, he is well feared by air sailors for his capricious nature, and his clerics, few and far in-between, are tossed offerings to avoid the chance of retributive punishment. Evil fighters sometimes worship Kraggoth out of respect for his power. His symbol is a blue lightning bolt before a steel-gray cloud. Markavaltimus (CG) – Music, Travel, Charm, Chaos, Good Markavaltimus, called the Music Lord, is the god of elves and bards. He is found in any place where there is love of life and celebration, and his symbols are the harp and the wine goblet. Mishra (LG) – Peace, Healing, Law, Good, Protection Mishra is the goddess of peace and healing. Often called The White Lady, she is worshipped most often by those hoping to avoid a conflict. Overwhelming numbers of good clerics venerate her, but she is also venerated by wizards of the Abjuration subschool and monks who have taken vows of non-violence. Her symbol is a white circle. Norinth (LG) – Sun, Light, Fire, Good, Law Norinth is called the Glorious Lady, or Goddess of Justice. She is the goddess of law and light, and is most often worshipped by paladins who fight against injustice and tyranny in her name. Her symbols are a set of scales above a sword, before the dawning sun. Selsadoon (NE) – Evil, Undeath, Death, Secrets Selsadoon is the goddess of death, undeath and the secrets of the grave. Her clerics can play two roles, that of the keeper of the dead and the giver of last rites, or that of the dominator through undeath, and leader of grim armies. She cares not which one, but always the former is more welcome in cities then the latter. Her symbol is of a half-buried coffin. Tilmara (CN) – Luck, Chaos, Fate, Trickery Tilmara is known as the Changing Eye, Lucky Dice, and the Little Trickster. She is goddess of halflings, bards, and rogues. Her clerics often have levels of the more silent classes, and her temples are more commonly thieves’ dens and gambling halls. Her symbol is a spinning coin. Vorthanial (NG) – Magic, Knowledge, Spell, Good Vorthanial, who is also called The Weaver and Lord of Mystery, is the benevolent god of Magic and Knowledge. His followers oppose the worshippers of Selsadoon, and root them out wherever they try to congregate. A book and reading glasses represent him.
Subversive 03-17-07, 02:37 PM	Day 2 (continued) The party passed out of the ruined city quickly and uneventfully, moving into the twisted trees that surrounded it, and on into healthier forests. Passage was quicker this time, as the group knew where it was going, and the Spirit Shaman had a mind for their direction. But soon the light was getting dimmer quickly (though the group reckoned it was only about 4), and the party feared both the idea of camping and traveling in the dark. All thoughts of darkness were put aside when the ankheg attacked. Bursting from the ground, it took the party by surprise, and struck two of the group, Laythan and Kent, with its line of acid. It managed only one more attack before the group downed the creature, striking Denick squarely with a brutal blow. After healing up, the group resolved at this point that staying in the forest was, perhaps, the poorer choice, and elected to continue on to the awaiting Pelican. It was fully night by the time the group wearily came in sight of the waiting transport’s lanterns. Captain Garganza had elected to bring the zeppelin up to treetop level as a safety precaution, and rope anchors attached her to two trees. The group yelled up and received a warm welcome in return. A rope ladder was thrown down, and they quickly found themselves safe and on deck. Back slapping greetings ensued (and a few bets were paid off between the crew hands), and Garganza decided to have a dinner in honor of the group’s improbable survival. Over a tasty feast of salted hippogriff wings, the characters and crew laughed and spun tales as the flagon of grog passed around. The warforged was regarded with some suspicion by the sailors, which suited him fine, since he couldn’t follow the conversation, and didn’t require food anyway. The adventurers told the tales of what they had seen, fought, and found, highly exaggerated in the process of telling. The Pelican sailors were particularly interested in whatever treasure they had uncovered, since a share of that went to the crew. Eventually the night grew late, and the crew went to bed or reported for duty, and the party was left to their own devices at the table. Still, some grog remained, and the characters weren’t ready to retire quite yet. Talk turned to what had brought them here, and what had brought them to a life of high adventure. * * * Laythan went first. He was of the Quilarri, the Winged People, mighty airship sailors whose blood could be traced to the founding of Aquilon and before. His people sailed the edges of the Cloud Sea, patrolling against the monsters and demihumans that dwelt within. To his people, spirits were everywhere. They occupied the air. They lived in the ground. They guarded the trees and stones. His father had been a village leader of one of the frosty Quilmar Isles to the north, and a respected shaman of his people, even participating in the great Thanemoot in Quilsham. When the orc slavers attacked from the Sea of Clouds, it had taken his island by surprise. Though the raiders had been turned away, many were killed among both his tribe and family, his father included. More were taken as slaves, and Laythan had been among them. He had spent two weeks amongst the orcs, who slew and ate those that would not serve for the flesh markets of Daggerport or Trewind. Then he escaped by his own hand, and hid in the orcs’ warrens until his grandfather – a spirit shaman of enormous strength – had organized a reprisal against the raiders and massacred them all. Once his grandfather saw what he had done, and how he had escaped, he declared that Laythan was guarded by the spirits, and would be trained as a spirit shaman. However, the clan had been greatly depleted, and his grandfather could not train him and manage the tribal matters at the same time. Much to Laythan’s chagrin the only shaman available was the vain and arrogant Argolish, a shaman of some skill who was soon to depart as the windmaster of the Pelican. Obediently, he departed with the man, and he had spent a miserable time here over the past few months – enduring many beatings and abuses. Finally he could take no more. He was a trained and established shaman and had no more need for Argolish’s tyranny. When he saw his opportunity to better his lot in life with the Tradewind Company, he’d grabbed for it with both hands. * * * The cup passed to Gerdy, who took a deep draw. Gerdy had grown up his entire life living in the shadow of his older brother, an experienced and well-versed mage employed by the gnome king of Gnodor. As a child, he had wanted nothing more than to grow up just like him, but this proved more difficult then he would imagine. His family ran a successful apothecary in the noble (or should I say gnoble? :D) district of the city, and his parents wanted him to follow their footsteps. The family had one trained wizard, and that was enough. Nevertheless, Gerdy persevered, and by sneaking into his brother’s study to practice late at night, slowly learned the ways of The Art. This was to have disastrous consequences. One night, Gerdy snuck into his brother’s laboratory. There, the young gnome found an arcane device that his brother had been examining for the king. Curious, and perhaps a bit jealous of his brother’s successes, Gerdy triggered it, and the ensuing magical vortex sucked up his family and house before his very eyes – the device along with it. Swearing before Vorthanial that he would find the means to restore his property, he went and apprenticed himself to a Darnallan mage, who proved to be a less-then-effective mentor and put Gerdy to work manufacturing alchemical materials for sale. His apprenticeship here also ended after another accident destroyed the mage’s lab in a blast of alchemical fire, and Gerdy found himself fleeing his master’s wrath to Trewind – about the furthest place he could get – and cursing his luck. He had met James and Kent along the way, and they had founded the Tradewind Company together with two others who had since departed for other adventures. * * * The flagon passed to Denick, who told a tale of dragons. Red dragons love dwarves. They find them particularly tasty – especially the older crusty ones. And if there is one weakness that the great Skymountains of the dwarves possess, it’s to invasion by the scaleykind, who can find all the little crevases and cracks on the surface of the mountain, and worm (or wyrm) their way in for a tasty snack. This very fate occurred to Denick’s family when his father, mother, and brother were killed by a Red, at their home inside the Skymountain of Karrakus. Denick was taken in by the forgepriests of Durfindel, and after his apprenticeship was complete, he gained employment on the gnomebuild airship of his uncle. The self-same dragon, in turn, ate his uncle one day, while they were riding on the aircurrent from Ungor Deep to Isilmar. Denick was there, and saw the half-missing ear frill that marked it. He has burned with vengeance ever since, and sought for the Red in the Atalin Islands it’s said to have come from. * * * The tales had turned dark indeed, and the group passed the cup to James, with the hope that he would be the one to lift up the mood. Alas, this was not to be so. James, it seemed, had grown up on an airship much like this one, though of human make. He had lived the life of a successful merchant as a child, on a tradeship owned and operated by his family. This, too, did pass when his family and crew was attacked by pirates. The reavers spared none, and James escaped only by a twist of fate, when his slip off the side was arrested by a piece of floatwood, drifting underneath. James was small as a boy, and the broken timber held his weight. He survived for a week on that spar, living off of rainwater and a bird he killed with his teeth, before the air current brought him close enough to an abandoned skyland for him to make his way ashore. There, he lived two more weeks, slowly wasting away from thirst and starvation, even as he burned for the blood of the pirate that haunted his dreams. Finally his salvation came when an airship moored for replacement timbers. Half-feral, and not trusting the crew, he hid as a stowaway aboard the vessel for the month it took to reach Darnallus. He stole food from the galley in the night and never once was he caught until the ship reached the dock. In Darnallus, the streets became his new mother and father. He joined a thieves’ den as a street urchin, picking the pockets of rich and poor alike, and fighting with the alley rats for a place to bed. He grew strong on the thoughts of his vengence, and knew that one day he would return to The Atalins to have his reckoning with the bloody pirate crew that took the only people he had ever loved. On this grim note, James placed the empty cup of grog on the table, and left the galley, deciding to spend a solitary watch in the crow’s nest. The rest of the band, quiet and somber, decided to turn in. The warforged had not said a word throughout. He had no memories to give. DM Note: This was the adventure when I finally get them all to develop their backstories. I offered an RP coupon, redeemable for use of 1 Eberron-style action point, (with slight modifications) to any players who could develop a history for their characters and tell it to the others. This history had to include at least two major events in their characters' lives, one important person, and their general motivations or character quirks. Stereotypically, a lot of families suffered grisly fates :ghosted: , and a lot of blood vengeances were sworn, but I was impressed with all of their efforts, particularly that of James' player. For their work they all got one coupon.
Caligula 03-19-07, 01:19 AM	Subversive, great going with "passing the grog" and letting them tell stories of themselves. Murdered families and revenge are way too ususal I agree... "Me want me grog 'o moonshine 'for me tell ye 'bout me murdered sister...." ;) BTW, nice work with the Gods for your setting. Did you create them all yourself (except for Gruumsh) or were you guys assisting each other on this issue? Anyway, this looks as a serious campaign and I'm looking forward to see how your players handle the challenges that RHoD will offer them. :cool:
pukunui 03-19-07, 03:28 AM	Good stuff, Steve. Like I said via e-mail, I'd love to play in your campaign. Sounds really interesting. Just one question - is Alex currently playing two PCs (the monk and the warforged) or did I miss the bit where the monk left the group? I think you did a good job writing his new PC into the story, but how are you going to write his monk out of the story?
Subversive 03-19-07, 07:33 AM	Subversive, great going with "passing the grog" and letting them tell stories of themselves. Murdered families and revenge are way too ususal I agree... "Me want me grog 'o moonshine 'for me tell ye 'bout me murdered sister...." ;) BTW, nice work with the Gods for your setting. Did you create them all yourself (except for Gruumsh) or were you guys assisting each other on this issue? Anyway, this looks as a serious campaign and I'm looking forward to see how your players handle the challenges that RHoD will offer them. :cool: Thanks, Caligula. I took the idea for the backstory development from KoDT. I plan on letting any new characters get the same chance, along with the same reward. The gods I wrote up myself, though some have more then a passing resemblance to their Faerunian counterparts. There are likely others in the setting as well, such as Tiamat, for example.
Subversive 03-19-07, 07:40 AM	Good stuff, Steve. Like I said via e-mail, I'd love to play in your campaign. Sounds really interesting. Just one question - is Alex currently playing two PCs (the monk and the warforged) or did I miss the bit where the monk left the group? I think you did a good job writing his new PC into the story, but how are you going to write his monk out of the story? Alex decided to switch to a new PC during our current adventure. He'd been playing a VoP monk, which would have fit in very nicely for our last campaign setting. This campaign, however, I insisted that the group form an adventure charter to better enable them to distribute wealth, something that they hadn't always been on top of during the last campaign. This set a decidedly commercial bent to the current game, and he felt that a VoP monk wasn't the way to go. It came at a somewhat bad point in the adventure. How am I supposed to introduce a new character when they're in an abandoned city filled with the dead that's gone undiscovered for a thousand years??? The fact that he wanted to play a warforged helped a little bit with that. As for what will happen to Kent? Simple. He'll decide to stay on the boat. :ayyyy!:
Subversive 04-13-07, 03:27 AM	Day 3 Denick stood in the immense dwarven hall and knew, instinctively, that he was dreaming. Pillars the size of great ironwood trees held up a vaulted roof of immense breadth and height - blackened by eons of forge-soot and furnace-fire. Interspaced in alcoves stood great dwarven ancestors, whose names had been carved into history itself by the tellings of the skalds. "Dworrlheim..." The fiery cleric thought, "...the Hall of my Ancestors. I am in Nidorvellir*!!" In the distance, the clear ring of hammer on anvil could be heard, and it's deep knell passed through his chest, feeling to him like the rhythm of his own heartbeat. He could see there the deep-burning fire of a great furnace, its red glow casting shadows all about. The distant smith working his anvil was clearly a dwarf, but of titanic size. Encased in the shadows thrown up by his forge, and bent over his work, Denick could perceive no details of his features or dress. He neither spoke to, nor acknowledged the presence of the cleric, but continued about his unseen work. The strikes of his hammer threw up sparks with every blow, which fell to the floor around his massive legs and lingered a while before burning out. The shadowy titan paused in his labor to mop his brow, and grasping great tongs, he picked up the still-unseen work. He dunked it in a water barrel that seemed to Denick the size of a small lake, and steam enveloped the hall, masking all sight. Then, through the clouds, the dwarf perceived twin points of ruddy light - two eyes, like hot furnace coals, looking at him, burning through him, aware of the sum of his existence from birth until death and beyond. A voice sounded in his head like great forge bellows: THAT WHICH IS BROKEN CANNOT BE RESTORED. BUT IT CAN BE REFORGED. HAVE YOU THE COURAGE TO REFORGE IT, LITTLE SPARK? As last of the steam cleared, Denick saw that the tongs held a great glowing gemstone, a diamond the size of a house, a city, larger - a world. And with a final strike of the giant's hammer, the gemstone shattered into a million shards of light. *The Dwarvish Afterlife, an unending mountain delve where the dwarves may spend eternity mining the secrets of the earth and crafting their greatest works.
Prom 04-29-07, 12:33 AM	Hi Subversive, I have enjoyed reading your band of heroes adventure. I am looking forward to reading the next installment, but will not as I have not played the Red Hand of Doom yet (Pukunui would not approve). After reading Denick's dream, I am relucant to continue with my own characters long term goals now. Do not really want to repeat the same idea, that others have. The whole airship environment is wonderful, makes me think of pirates on the high seas. Prom
Subversive 04-29-07, 01:06 AM	Hi Subversive, I have enjoyed reading your band of heroes adventure. I am looking forward to reading the next installment, but will not as I have not played the Red Hand of Doom yet (Pukunui would not approve). After reading Denick's dream, I am relucant to continue with my own characters long term goals now. Do not really want to repeat the same idea, that others have. The whole airship environment is wonderful, makes me think of pirates on the high seas. Prom Hey Prom, after reading what you said here, I took a look through Pukunui's Elsir Vale thread. My eyes almost popped out when I read your post about Prom encountering his father in a dream. If I hadn't written that post up and sent it to Denick's player around February 27th, I'd have to arrest myself for plagerism. Ultimately, we're all conversing in the same language of mythology here, so there's bound to be some convergence every once in a while. I have the feeling after reading your post that Denick and Prom are going in different directions anyway, so please continue telling his story unhindered by this one. Makes it feel more authentic. I'm glad you like the feel of my setting. Swashbuckling was something I was aiming for sure enough. Look for the feel of the setting to change once RHoD is introduced, and then revert back to the original feel of the world - but with a grander feel - upon that adventure's conclusion. Of course I'm literally talking years from now. Our group is slow to meet. -Steve
pukunui 04-29-07, 01:28 AM	I thought I'd just chime in to say that I too noticed the similarities between Denick's dream and Brock's NDE. I didn't say anything before because I thought it was just a strange coincidence (which is what I still think). Anyway, I told Prom to forget about the Red Hand of Doom. He's supposed to be pretending he's never heard of it before. :nonono: I too enjoy your setting. I'd love to make up a more original setting for my own campaign (I know you said your setting is hardly original, but I am not familiar with the setting(s) from which it is derived). My current setting is very generic. I've got nothing more than the barest sketch of the world beyond Elsir Vale, and I'm mostly just using the generic races, deities, etc. I've got lots of ideas - just very little time to spend on them. Sigh ... - Jonny
Subversive 04-29-07, 01:37 AM	I thought I'd just chime in to say that I too noticed the similarities between Denick's dream and Brock's NDE. I didn't say anything before because I thought it was just a strange coincidence (which is what I still think). Anyway, I told Prom to forget about the Red Hand of Doom. He's supposed to be pretending he's never heard of it before. :nonono: I too enjoy your setting. I'd love to make up a more original setting for my own campaign (I know you said your setting is hardly original, but I am not familiar with the setting(s) from which it is derived). My current setting is very generic. I've got nothing more than the barest sketch of the world beyond Elsir Vale, and I'm mostly just using the generic races, deities, etc. I've got lots of ideas - just very little time to spend on them. Sigh ... - Jonny TELL ME ABOUT IT... Tell Brock he can keep reading on for quite a while. We'll probably get to RHoD after he does. [edit] What really weirded me out was the part in both about the sparks coming off the anvil
pukunui 04-29-07, 02:16 AM	Yeah ... and the fact that the person at the anvil had his back turned to the viewer.
Subversive 04-29-07, 03:02 PM	Actually, in Denick's dream he was enveiled by the shadows of his forge, and then the steam of quenching his work. But close enough... :D
pukunui 04-29-07, 03:35 PM	Ah true. Had to go back and reread the dream sequence. Oh well -- just goes to show how similar they are since I was getting them mixed up. :P ;)
snakeheadfish33 05-01-07, 11:12 AM	Wow, that golden hobgoblin sgt. is tight! I really like the repaints that WotC has done for various reasons. I've only managed to get my hands on the repainted "albino" wererat. Anyways, I like the mini's you have chosen for the various roles they will play in the module. Nice work. At the end of last year I posted a partial list of the miniatures my group was using for the game. You might find it somewhat useful, if not at least interesting. http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?t=744480
Subversive 05-01-07, 02:39 PM	Yeah, I'm happy about the gold sergeant. I'm still trying to figure out what he'll fit best as. I looked at your list, and I noticed you didn't have a mini for the high wyrmlord himself. Who are you using for him. You know it's funny. I'm putting all of this prep work into this, buying minis, making models. My biggest fear is that I'll set the whole story up and the group will decide to hang around in Dennovar for the whole invasion or something...:banghead:
snakeheadfish33 05-01-07, 09:51 PM	For High Wyrmlord I'm going with the Dragonborne fighter. I went round and round though, it wasn't an easy decision. I was looking at some metal minis by Reaper but not knowing if I had time on my side, to get the mini and glue it before needed. So after discussions with others here on the boards I've settled. I still think theres a better mini out there to use I just haven't found it. Plus I won't need to buy one if I use the plastic Dragonborne that I have. Also, I have to agree with Pukunui (as he and I had this very conversation a month ago) that buying both Basic Game boxes would be a boon to you and your game table. I've had them both since they first arrived on the shelves and they are well worth the price in miniatures alone; not to mention all the other great and handy items contained within said boxes.
Subversive 05-02-07, 12:21 AM	I suggest that we take this conversation to my other thread, since my players read this thread, and I don't want to give too much away. I will definately be looking into those game boxes. Looks like I can get the '04 pretty easily.
Subversive 08-19-07, 02:58 PM	Welp! The time is almost upon us again! My group, barring unforseen circumstances, will be meeting next weekend to continue their exploration into the Library of Lenj. I'm on vacation this week, but handy laptop and good wifi connection means I'll have some time to get caught up on the story. Look for some new additions coming soon (after I get my three grad school classes out of the way!)
Subversive 08-26-07, 04:14 PM	PCs: James (Human Rogue 2) Gerdy (Gnome Wizard 2) Laythan (Human Spirit Shaman 2) Denick (Dwarven Cleric of Durfindel Embereyes 2) Unnamed Warforged (Duskblade 2) NPCs: Guttlegurge (Seemingly a wizard/scholar, though of unknown level) Day 3 (Continued) The next two days came by quick for the group. The party left the Pelican for a second time, again aware of a seven day window before the little gnome transport judged them as dead and departed. Kent made the decision to stay onboard the ship, having decided that his time would be better spent in meditation. Passage through the woods went faster this time, as the group had a firm idea of the direction they were headed, and only slowed down when they discovered a clearing in the trees. Here, standing in the middle of a small field, were the remains of an ancient stone structure, and a line of weathered stones placed in a row. The group approached cautiously. Laythan was particularly interested in the row of worn stones, and went to examine them, while the rest of the group cautiously peeked and poked around the rest of the ruins. The first stone was badly weathered by the passing millenium, but had a single word that was still visible on it: "Allaim," the Aquilonian word for "Here." On the next stone, Laythan made out a number: "1047." He moved over to the third stone, bending close to make out what might be written there. The earth beneath him exploded, a clawed and desiccated arm shot up, and too late, Laythan realized that he was standing atop a row of graves. The claw dug into his flesh, and a numbed sensation stole over Laythan's body as his arms and legs gave out and he flopped uselessly to the ground. From that grave, and the next grave over, decayed horrors dug themselves free of the cold soil, revealing loping, ape-like bodies and long-tongued mouths filled with sharp and shattered teeth. The ghouls hissed in pleasure over their new prey, and began dragging the body toward the trees, away from the other adventurers that might interrupt their meal. But the rest of the party was too quick to respond, and the undead were forced to turn and defend themselves. Denick stepped before them, calling forth the power of Durfindel, and one of the horrors ran screaming from him. The other got in a quick slash, but only managed superficial damage before being dispatched by the group. Laythan revived soon after, but they noted with concern that his wounds seemed to be festering already. The group traveled onwards, and soon arrived back at the shattered remnant of Tartaron. Finding the church to be still-undisturbed, they decided to camp there for the remainder of the day, and begin their exploration of the building tomorrow. There was still time to explore before dusk, but the party didn't want to be caught in the open when the sun went down. Denick went to work treating Laythan's wounds with his healing skills, which were now red and looked infected. Night passed uneventfully, and the next morning they were rewarded with freezing temperatures and dim, grey skies. The first frost of winter was upon them. Day 4 James had the last watch of the night, and as the sky lightened, he felt an itch come over him. An itch that only a rogue knows so intimately. An image refused to leave his head: the statue in the main hall of the library... her carved, stone body, and more importantly, her eyes. Eyes that glittered and danced in the light. Eyes that were crafted from the finest gemstones James' imagination could conjure. Quietly, ever so quietly, James crept down into the basement of the great church, into the catacombs where the Warforged duskblade had been discovered, to a large hatch which James believed opened to the outside. There was a short grinding of unused hinges, and then the thief was rewarded by a pale daylight. Quietly, confident that the rest of the group was still asleep, the rogue slipped outside, leaving behind only a trail of breath in the cold, cold air.
Subversive 08-28-07, 02:07 AM	Day 4 (Continued) James flitted stealthily between the ruins of the city. The Library was close by, and it was daylight, but that did nothing to dull his paranoia, or make him step anything less then as lightly as he could. Slowly, achingly, the great bronze doors grew before him. Then he was at the granite steps, and mounting them. Again, the doors opened noiselessly, and he saw the statue in the grand atrium, standing atop a small dais in the middle of the reflecting pool. Quickly, James climbed the statue, and with two quick turns of his dagger the gems were in his hand. Then they were in his purse, and he was heading back out the door, euphoric with his newest acquisitions. The moment was short lived. Stepping foot back on the gray soil, James felt a tremor from the ground. The tremor turned into an explosion of dirt, as a familiar creature burst forth in front of him. The ankeg was huge and hungry; its maw dripped with acid. Not content with the paltry hunting on this festering skyland, it had waited long for a feast this large, and now the rogue was alone, and bearing only his two daggers. It would feast indeed. * * * In the cathedral, the rest of the adventurers had stirred awake. A chopped up pew was serving as the morning campfire, tended by Guttlegurge and the warforged. Gerdy had cloistered himself in a corner, studying for his day's allotment of spells. In the center of the chamber, Denick was wrapping up his morning prayers. "Where's James?" Laythan had just emerged from the kitchen area, where the trap door that let to the catacombs stood open. From outside the church came a roar. * * * A line of acid shot from its mouth, but the nimble thief evaded it. It moved in to finish the rogue off, but by then James had recovered from his shock, and was running for the safety of the cathedral. From the corner of his left eye, he could see movement among the ruins. Something had been attracted by the noise, and he could make out a small, childlike figure moving to intercept him. Behind him, the ankeg had roared, and began its pursuit, determined not to let its prey escape. Faster, he thought. The double-doored hatch was only twenty seconds away, but the ankeg was too close behind. He would never close it in time. Closer now, to his left, came the lilting laugh of a young girl. He could see dull-grey, milky eyes sunken far into their skull. God, her lips have rotted off. From the hatch came a quick word of command, and a magical bolt of force flew over his head, striking the ankeg unerringly. The creature grunted in pain, and paused in surprise. Then James was through the hatch and sliding down the stone stairs. Denick and Laythan swung the doors closed behind him. Outside the hatch came another roar, and a cry of disappointment. There was silence for a moment, than the party heard the sounds of scuffling. The undead-girl-abomination-thing screamed in pain that made mockery of the living creature she once was. There was silence again, and Laythan made the decision to open his side of the hatch. In front of them stood the ankeg, a small withered arm dangling from its jaw. The group exploded into combat. A quickly muttered spell transformed Laythan's staff into a magical shillelagh, while Denick went for the beast head on. A word from Gerdy and the creature was struck by another glowing dart. The ankeg got in a quick strike on Denick, and then Laythan's shillelagh went to work. Very quickly, the giant insect had suffered enough. Its meal denied, and the undead thing it had consumed already rotting a hole in its stomach, the ankeg dove into the ground and fled for its life. There had to be easier prey out there somewhere. At the bottom of the stairs, James sat in the dust, and caught his breath, "So where have you been?" Gerdy asked him innocently. DM Note: This was where James decided to follow his more kleptomaniacal inclinations. I was fair to the rogue, and rolled in accordance with the random encounter tables as was in keeping with his attempts at stealth, but it was one of those 1-in-20 rolls that ended up badly for him. Once combat began with the ankeg, I rolled to see if the noise attracted attention, and wouldn't you know it...
pukunui 08-28-07, 05:29 PM	Great storytelling as always, Subversive! It's a pity we have to wait so long in between "chapters" ... Just one question - what were the other players doing while James was off on his solo excursion? I mean, did you take James' player off to a corner and let the others have a break or did they sit and watch/listen to the whole thing? Just curious to know how you handled it from an out-of-game context. Cheers, Jonathan
Subversive 08-28-07, 06:30 PM	Jame's player and I discussed her character's actions at the beginning of the session that day. I rolled up the random encounters quickly as he went to and from the library. Ankegs have tremor-sense, so there was no way for James to avoid it through stealth once he walked near it. All in all, it was a very quick encounter that needed only a few dice rolls, and the rest of the group watched James' resulting combat with the Ankeg with interest (and were quickly involved at that point).
pukunui 08-28-07, 06:42 PM	Oh ok cool. If it had been my group, it probably would've taken half the night ... :rolleyes: I don't know why but we quite often just seem to go so slowly. Often it's because someone has to look up the rules for something ... but anyway. That's cool. I kind of like the idea of taking players out when they're doing something separate, but I guess in this case, it didn't really matter if the others saw/heard what was going on. If James had gone up against an enemy caster who ended up dominating him or something while the other PCs were away, I could really see the advantage of not having the other players around so they don't know ...
Subversive 08-28-07, 07:52 PM	Oh ok cool. If it had been my group, it probably would've taken half the night ... :rolleyes: I don't know why but we quite often just seem to go so slowly. Often it's because someone has to look up the rules for something ... but anyway. That's cool. I kind of like the idea of taking players out when they're doing something separate, but I guess in this case, it didn't really matter if the others saw/heard what was going on. If James had gone up against an enemy caster who ended up dominating him or something while the other PCs were away, I could really see the advantage of not having the other players around so they don't know ... Oh god, believe me, they can go long. I mean LONG. We had one combat just this weekend that took about two hours to get through. I mean, that was against two CR 2s! If it were to be the type of combat where there was a lone character going up against something with the ability to dominate, etc, I would absolutely seperate them, or do the whole thing through passed notes.
pukunui 08-28-07, 08:52 PM	Oh god, believe me, they can go long. I mean LONG. We had one combat just this weekend that took about two hours to get through. I mean, that was against two CR 2s! If it were to be the type of combat where there was a lone character going up against something with the ability to dominate, etc, I would absolutely seperate them, or do the whole thing through passed notes. Ooh, passed notes. I tried that once. It's cool but slows things down a lot. Instead I try to either do as much via e-mail as I can (which means pretty much everything short of rolling dice, although I've been considering using an online dice roller) or get the player in question to come over on his own outside of the regular session time. You know, speaking of long combats ... I can hardly wait to see if 4th edition really is better and faster. If it is, I'll be all over it. I had a long gap between when I last played D&D in its 2nd edition phase and when I picked up the 3.5 rules, and I have to say that the 3.5 game just doesn't live up to my memories from 2nd edition (although I would never go back to that system ...).
Subversive 08-28-07, 11:06 PM	Ooh, passed notes. I tried that once. It's cool but slows things down a lot. Instead I try to either do as much via e-mail as I can (which means pretty much everything short of rolling dice, although I've been considering using an online dice roller) or get the player in question to come over on his own outside of the regular session time. You know, speaking of long combats ... I can hardly wait to see if 4th edition really is better and faster. If it is, I'll be all over it. I had a long gap between when I last played D&D in its 2nd edition phase and when I picked up the 3.5 rules, and I have to say that the 3.5 game just doesn't live up to my memories from 2nd edition (although I would never go back to that system ...). I used to play AD&D, and rounds still took just as long. The big difference that I recall was in stuff like grappeling and tripping. Those can really slow down the speed of the game, since they have two-to-three extra steps in them, and are rarely used, so it requires some refreshing from the rules to perform them correctly.
Subversive 08-29-07, 02:17 AM	After a few minutes to recover from the fight, the group gathered to decide their next move. Debate was given as to whether the rest of the ruins should be explored before moving onto their main purpose, however it was decided that the Library would be their primary goal for the day. The trip to its doors was thankfully uneventful, and minutes later, they stood in the atrium once again - a more familiar sight to some of them then others. Once inside the atrium, two doors presented themselves to the group, one north, one south. Examination of the southern door showed it to be dangerous. There was rubble weighing against it, and it appeared that if opened, it would trigger a collapse. The northern door was carefully examined, and then opened, revealing a great hall that stretched before them, bearing row after row of bookshelves. At this, Guttlegurge lost his sense of preservation, and rushed over to the nearest shelf. It was a fool's journey. The books had long since rotted beyond usability, and crumpled to dust at his touch. The party regrouped, and began cautiously working their way down the hallway, alert for traps or ambushes. Still, it came as a surprise to them when a dark, transparent claw emerged from the floor to brush against Denick's foot. The tough dwarf felt his strength drain away at the touch as a shadow emerged from the ground beneath them. Marshalling his will, he presented the symbol of his god, and summoned his power. The undead was not swayed, and continued his assault. Undaunted, the cleric tried again, and this time the power of Durfindel came strongly to him. The shadow shrieked in rage and terror as the holy symbol flashed brilliantly, and fled before the power of the forge god. It would not be seen again. Moving carefully on, the group arrived at the far side of the North Wing. Here, the main hall turned around a corner, and headed back to the center of the library. However, there was also an alcove at the far north side that contained a door. The group briefly scouted out the other side of the North Wing to ensure everything was safe, and then turned back to the alcove. The door opened to what appeared to have been a private area of the library, with a short hallway leading to three doors. The first door was nothing special, seemingly a work area. The group went down to the south door. Carefully looking inside, Denick noticed that this room had a large hole in the wall, letting in dim light from outside. He remembered that there had been noises coming from that hole, but there was nothing here. The room was entirely bare. He had forgotten to check the ceiling. "There's nothing in here. Let us check the opposite doo..." A rubbery, octopus-like hand snaked down from the lintel of the door, and wrapped itself around his face and neck. With a quick "gerk," Denick was pulled back inside the room, up to the ceiling, where the choker was waiting for its meal. Laythan rushed in, only to be ensnared by the creature's other tentacle-arm. Undaunted, the group rushed to help, but found themselves blocked at the door by the entangled spirit shaman and dwarf. At this point, the struggle became a push and pull between Laythan, Denick, and the choker, but it was a struggle that the two adventurers were quickly losing. Ribs cracked and popped as the life started to be squeezed out of the two. Laythan felt his vision start to go dim as he took damage that would render any lesser man unconscious, and held on through sheer force of will, striking as best he could at the little horror that hung from the ceiling, but its rubbery skin resisted the worst of the blows, causing only superficial damage. Undaunted, Laythan fought on. Denick gritted his teeth in fury, but he too felt the tentacle-like grip tighten around him. From his back came a bright flash, as the warforged duskblade cast a fiery spell, but it did nothing more then upset the creature and blister its skin. Denick's chest made sounds like dry timber, and he could taste blood forcing its way up to his mouth. He tried to struggle, but the shadow had drained much of his strength. In moments he knew he would be unconscious, and moments after that he would be with his ancestors in Dworrlheim. A second ray of fire flashed over his shoulder from the warforged, much more powerful then the first. Denick felt his eyebrows smoke and catch fire. The choker howled as it roasted, and decided that escape was better then death. Denick felt its grip loosen, as it prepared to flee, and knew his moment had come. He was on the brink of dying, and knew that any strenuous action he took or spell he cast would push him to unconsciousness, but he trusted in his comrades, and knew they would see to him before he passed, and the choker hung from the ceiling directly above him. As the tentacle arm released from him, he cast updraft, and was instantly rocketed into the creature, which went limp and fell unconscious from the impact. Beneath the two of them stood Laythan. Two ten-foot long arms fell over him, covering him like ribbons falling to earth. A moment later, a small, halfling-sized body fell to the ground in front of him. A moment later still, Denick's unconscious and dying form wafted into his arms on wings of magic. Laythan dropped Denick to the floor and incinerated the choker for good measure. DM Note: This was actually one of the toughest fights the group ever had. Giving the creature surprise quickly took one of the players largely out of the fight, and Laythan rushing into the room gave it an opportunity to neutralize another one. Laythan had the Diehard feat, which let him continue fighting, but wasn't managing much damage. Similarly, Denick couldn't manage to cast a spell and was quickly disabled. It was the warforged's great damage roll that really saved the day, bringing the choker down to disabled, and Denick's final spell that managed to bring things over the edge. A great fight all around, and from a CR 2! I love chokers!!! :devil:
pukunui 08-29-07, 03:42 AM	Wow! That does sound like it was a very exciting encounter! None of my choker encounters have been anywhere near that exciting. Do you describe things during the session like that or have you buttered them up for your recap? Just curious ... I never feel as eloquent as I'd like to be during a session.
Subversive 08-29-07, 10:11 AM	Depends. That was a fast-moving encounter, with multiple characters near death or dying. There wasn't a lot of spare time for flowery language, but I usually add some descriptions to what's happening. I find that after a long combat, however, they can get pretty repetative. There's only so many ways you can describe monster A clawing player B.
pukunui 08-29-07, 04:25 PM	There's only so many ways you can describe monster A clawing player B. Tell me about it ... :rolleyes:
Subversive 12-08-07, 03:41 AM	Day 5 PCs: James (Human Rogue 2) Gerdy (Gnome Wizard 2) Laythan (Human Spirit Shaman 2) Denick (Dwarven Cleric of Durfindel Embereyes 2) Unnamed Warforged (Duskblade 2) NPCs: Guttlegurge (Seemingly a wizard/scholar, though of unknown level) After resting again at the cathedral, the group continued on with their exploration of the Library of Lenj. In the room opposite where they'd battled the choker, they found what appeared to be an ancient bunkroom for the library's acolytes. The next room over was apparently a workroom. Here they found several scrolls, a set of pipes, and a wand that all radiated magical energies. Finishing up their exploration of the great hall on the main floor, and found a stairway descending into the lower levels of the library. Exploration of the first sublevel was cautiously done, but quickly. Overall, this level of the library hadn't survived the ancient cataclysm well. There seemed to be several old laboratories and study chambers that had had their strange and hazardous contents shattered to strange or dire results. Some undead had taken residence, but they were quickly put down. The group found some more scrolls and another wand in a chamber of preserved specimens (along with an aggressive Brain in a Jar that was dispatched in a few seconds). Some old traps were encountered as well, and the players fell victim to a nasty infestation of Green Slime. Here intuition served them well, as the wand – blindly activated – turned out to be a Wand of Daylight, which killed all the slime in the vicinity, and probably saved Laythan from a grim death. There was also a nasty floor-spear trap that caught James in the thigh, much to his chagrin as a rogue. The group became much more paranoid after this. Their next holdup occurred at the stairs leading further into the bowels of the library. The doorway to the stairs was magically locked. In the center of the room was a large carpet woven of strange, metallic threads. In the middle of the rug stood a small pedestal bearing a key and a sign that stated, "Only a Clever Hand Can Take Me," in ancient Aquilonean. Both the key and the rug radiated conjuration magic. One of the explorers found a small pebble and threw it on the rug, only to have it immediately teleport several feet away and about 15 feet in the air. Looking at the pedestal more closely revealed that it was attached to the floor through a hole in the center of the rug. The group pondered this puzzle for a while. One proposed using something to knock off the key onto the floor. This caused the key to teleport back to the pedestal. Another idea was to fly over the rug to the pedestal somehow, but this was shot down just as quickly. In the end, it was Denick that must have received some divine insight. He rolled up the rug. The next level of the library proved to be much larger than the last, and seemed to have survived in better condition. To the left of the stairway were bedrooms, perhaps for guests, maybe for servants. The passing centuries had erased the story. They were quickly explored and discovered empty. To the right of the stairway stood a great set of bronze doors that opened to a grand dining chamber. Chandeliers of crystal and gold, bearing everburning lights, swung from the ceiling. Golden candelabras and dinnerware dressed every table seat. Fine crystal goblets stood, waiting as though in the expectation they would be filled and brought to lips within moments. As the party watched from the other room, two animated statues emerged from swinging double doors on the far side, bearing empty serving dishes and decanters. A strange sort of pantomime followed as the statues went from place to place, serving invisible dishes of the finest air and pouring goblet after goblet of dust and nothing. Their mockery of service completed for the moment, the statues returned to the far room behind the doors, and minutes later came a dessert course of similar nutritional value. The group edged into the room. Laythan and Denick ventured the furthest, while the warforged duskblade kept some distance. James and Gerdy watched from the entrance. As the statues emerged again to collect their nonexistent repast, the dwarf and human moved closer to the doors, curious as to what lay concealed. The statues ignored them for a few seconds, continuing their rounds, and then inexplicably turned and attempted grapples. Entangled, Denick found with mounting horror that he was slowly being forced toward the double doors on the far wall. At this point, Gerdy, James, and the warforged rushed to assist their companions. Their attacks did little damage save for Gerdy's magic, and the statues tried to strike James, but seemed to ignore the warforged combatant completely. Then James had an inspiration. He walked calmly over to one of the tables and sat down. The closest statue immediately dropped Denick and began serving James an intangible meal. The rest of the group (except Guttlegurge, who remained in the hallway), followed suit to similar results. The constructs continued their grim pantomime: first the appetizers; next came the soup; after was the main course. All of it was air, dust, and decay. By this time James had constructed a lasso from his rope, and was attempting to snare one of the statues. He succeeded, and was able to restrict its movement, as it made no attempt to free itself. He had just started setting up another rope for the other statue when Laythan lost his patience, and decided now was a good a time as any to see what was in the other room. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the first statue's leash had enough play to reach him, and was immediately grappled. Denick sprang up to help, and the situation quickly dissolved into chaos as the other construct joined the fray. James gave up his rope idea as futile, cursed the idiots he worked with, and quickly jumped into the fight. The constructs still ignored the warforged. Denick was grappled yet again. He struggled, but slowly found himself dragged into the kitchen behind the double doors. There, an animated stove, bearing multiple carving knives and an eternally hot oven, waited for its next supply of cooking “ingredients,” and quickly started the process to "clean" the unfortunate cleric of Durfindel Ember-eyes. Despite multiple stab wounds, and feeling a little bit baked, Denick was finally able to wrench free, and he ran back to the dining room. The group eventually realized that neither the statues nor the stove reacted to the warforged, and combined with them pretending to be dinner guests, they were able to destroy all three of the ancient relics. In the back of the kitchen they discovered a freezer with walls of Blue Ice*. There hung the dusty, cold bones of an unfortunate explorer that had suffered a poor fate. Ill luck became great gain for the group. The dead man's backpack was magical, and held far more then its volume should allow. The group decided to clean up on golden dinnerware. The final chamber of this level was a marvel to behold. The walls bore a glamour that made them look like a moving image. As the party watched, the scene flew over vast islands and oceans, a sight completely foreign to their experience and indeed to their world. Guttlegurge had close to an apoplexy when he realized they must be viewing a sight of the ancient, pre-Sundered world. Had Lenj himself come here in his reflective periods to recall memories of the world the Ancients had lost? The walls spoke no answer. On the north wall was a stairway descending downwards. Great sounds of gears crept up the stairwell, and a strange vibration could be felt coming from the floor as well. The group suspected that they had nearly reached the destination of their journey. Carefully alert of their surroundings, the Tradewind Company and their excitable employer descended to discover the nature of The Book. *Frostburn DM Note: this was a compilation of two sessions. I was impressed with the PC's ingenuity at figuring out what would work in the different situations they encountered. The result wasn't always perfect, but they managed pretty handily. I will never use an encounter where the main attack is a grapple again, incidentally. Oy, what a headache.
pukunui 12-08-07, 06:37 PM	:clap: Wow, Steve! Your campaign sounds like a lot of fun. Wish I was playing in it. In fact, I wish I could run my own campaign with your adventure. I love the ancient library and the shattered world and all that. Good stuff. It's just a shame that you only get to play once a month.
Subversive 12-08-07, 08:15 PM	Thanks. I could send you world notes and stuff if you're interested in setting of Arranus. Currently I've finished a basic player's handbook of Darnallus, as well as a general description of the setting and the most commonly worshipped gods. It's important to remember that the Library (and indeed the region of the Atalin Islands in general) have gone through two ancient cataclysms. The first occured with the great Sundering, where the world as it now is was created, floating continents and all. This was uncounted ages ago. The second was when an epic spell misfired, shattering the continent of Aquilon, and creating the Atalin Islands from its remains. This occured about 1500 years ago, and resulted in the fall of the Aquilonean empire - one of the ancient wizard kingdoms that formed after the Sundering - and the rise of the elvish Hegemony of Isilmar, also called the Isilmari Empire.
pukunui 12-08-07, 09:10 PM	That would be cool. I wasn't sure if you'd be willing to share so I didn't want to ask. But since you've offered, I'd love to see what you've got, even if it only serves to inspire me to continue with my own world. I just really like the idea of playing in a setting that's had something horrible happen to it so far in the past that no one really knows what happened and it would be up to the PCs to wander around ancient ruins, putting together the pieces of the puzzle (but it wouldn't necessarily be their main goal - this could just be a sort of side story -- as they go around doing other missions, they happen to learn more about the ancient cataclysm ...)
Subversive 12-08-07, 11:10 PM	I just sent it to your email address. You should be getting two emails. Let me know if you didn't because my internet gets hinky after I use bittorrent for something. -Steve
pukunui 12-08-07, 11:13 PM	I just sent it to your email address. You should be getting two emails. Let me know if you didn't because my internet gets hinky after I use bittorrent for something. -Steve I did. Thank you very much.
Subversive 12-11-07, 01:05 AM	Day 5 (Continued) The final set of stairs descended into a large, octagonal chamber. Gears, cogs, and springs covered the walls and ceiling, and filled the room with noise and vibration. In some areas, it seemed, the clockwork had gone out of alignment. Cogs slipped. Sprockets were misaligned. In other areas the mechanisms weren't turning at all. Broken and twisted parts lined the flood at intervals where the mighty cataclysm had shaken them free. But these observations were mostly made unconsciously by the group, who were more occupied with two essential features of the chamber: in the middle, on a raised square dais, floated a translucent woman in flowing gowns, and on four of the walls stood what appeared to be 12' high portals of swirling color, red, gray, blue, and brown accordingly. The woman gave no acknowledgement of their presence at the entrance except for her eyes, which focused on the explorers. Mindful of traps or guardians, the party cautiously moved into the room. This soon became a largely academic concern as Guttlegurge - overcome with the wonder of the place - charged into the chamber, and began to examine its every inch, taking copious notes as he compared what he saw to texts and muttered to himself excitedly. The group could only shake their collective heads and move fully into the chamber. The translucent woman still made no move or reaction. "What is she?" Laythan asked, "A ghost?" "Of course not, idiot." came the irritated reply from the gnome. "An illusion?" Gerdy responded. "Closer, but not exactly. She is the Book. Actually, I think this entire chamber is the Book. In fact, I suspect the entire tower is the Book. I've been hearing this vibration ever since we entered the lower levels through the ruined base of the Library tower, and there are gears all up what is left of the outer tower walls. What this is, here, is its center. This is where we interact with it." "Can it hear us?" "Oh yes. I imagine it hears a great deal more then just us. Don't you?" the gnome replied, looking at the apparition over his half-moon glasses. "I hear many things." The party jumped to a man. "...And I see many things." "And you know many things as well, don't you?" replied the gnome "The dweomers that created me were powerful indeed," she replied, "I can answer any question you would ask of me. But only once." The group pondered that response. Any question answered. That had a powerful allure to many in the party who had lived long with unanswered questions haunting them. "Will you answer our questions now?" the gnome historian asked eagerly. "No. To perform that function of my enchantment would require a level of power that I do not currently possess. I have been waiting for a thousand years. My energy is nearly depleted." "Is there a way to give yeh power once more?" Denick asked. "Indeed. In the millennia past, I was powered by the trapped essences of elemental spirits taken through these four portals that you see around you. The process was automated, and activated whenever I needed recharging. However, this aspect of my function was destroyed during the cataclysm that shattered the continent of Aquilon." "How can we repair you, then," the dwarf replied. "It is doubtful that you would possess the knowledge or tools to do so. However, there is another method to power me again. The portals still function, and can be opened once more. If you were to fight and defeat the physical vessel of an elemental spirit in this chamber, its elemental essence would be released and then absorbed into my structures. In this manner, you could give me the power I need to perform my primary function. Do you wish for me to proceed?" The group discussed this briefly amongst themselves and agreed that they would return to the cathedral until the next day, when they would be more fully prepared to meet this challenge. Several were eager for it. Laythan knew that his power over spirits extended to those creatures of an elemental nature. Similarly, Denick’s domain was that of Earth, and gave him powers to control those creatures, as well as banish creatures of Air. The night was peaceful, but full of anticipation, and passed far too slowly. For one of them, that night would be their last. Waking early the next morning, the group set about preparing, studying spells and readying scrolls and potions. When they departed the church to do battle, there were no glances back. The Book remained in its position exactly as it had been left. The room continued to grind out its rusty tune of broken clockworks. “Do you wish for me to proceed?” she asked again “We do.” Though the Book made no gesture or sign, the sounds of gears and rotors increased in the room, building to a turbine-whine. The dim glow around each of the swirling portals began to increase, building and condensing into a pinprick of colored light at the center of each rune-carved stone circle. For a moment the pinprick remained, and then slowly and with great resistance, the very fabric between the planes was rent asunder by the clockwork artifact from an older, stranger age. The red portal flashed, and briefly there was an afterimage of lava and infernos. The small creature that came through it seemed to be made of solid fire, but the group dispatched it in a moment. Any essence it might have released was unseen, but the gears seemed to respond to it, and the whining increased as the portals grew slightly. Three other creatures followed, each composed of a base element. Denick was able to turn the Air elemental, allowing it to be easily slain. The Water elemental tried to flood the room, but was destroyed before any damage could be done. With each victory, the portals grew in size, as the essence powering their magic increased. Soon, the group knew, larger elementals would come forth, and they would prove a greater challenge. When the Earth elemental came through its portal, Denick called on Durfindel Ember-Eyes’ power once more, and felt it flow strongly through him. His symbol shone fiercely, and the creature of earth submitted before the power of the Stonebone God. It would prove useful in the coming moments. Suddenly, one of the portals seemed to flicker, changing colors from a deep blue to a hellish red. Faintly, the party could hear faraway screams. In a flash, and with the smell of brimstone, what appeared in the chamber bore no resemblance to any elemental. It was a small, red creature, and humanoid in appearance, but bearing bat-like wings and small horns, and with a squawk of surprise, it attacked its apparent kidnappers. “That’s a demon!” yelled Denick in surprise. “Then I fear that the machinery of the book might malfunctioning!” called out Guttlegurge from his hiding place in the entranceway, “It might be pulling creatures from anywhere in the Planes!” “I have detected a fluctuation in the portal apertures and am attempting to compensate,” came the cool, feminine voice of the Book, and indeed, the portal seemed to return to its former color, though now all of the portals’ colors seemed to be faintly fluttering. The next creature to come through only a moment later was a larger version of the Air elemental, and was quickly defeated by the power of Durfindel’s wrath, but not before the red portal spat out a man-sized Fire elemental that gave the group some serious problems, burning several of them badly. The small demon was destroyed, but by that time, another Water elemental had come through, and the group began to be overwhelmed. “How many of these things do we need to kill before you get your lunch??!?” yelled James, plunging a dagger into the Water elemental’s strangely-spongy surface. Both of the remaining elementals were dispatched, but then the red portal’s flicker began to grow more pronounced. “I have detected a continued variance in the energy. I cannot prevent it, but I might be able to provide you some assistance via the fluctuation.” There was a flash, and from the portal stumbled a woman that caused Gerdy and James to call out in surprise. She was dressed in chain mail and hunting leathers, from beneath her green cloak poked a quiver and bow, and an enormous scythe was slung over her shoulders. “Wha… where…?” her almond eyes darted around the carnage that surrounded her as she reached for her bow. “HAZU!” Gerdy yelled. “Hey, Hazu,” James called out glibly, “Glad you could join the fun! The bad guys are the ones trying to kill you.” “You know this woman?” asked Laythan, throwing a handful of magically-produced fire at the living wave in front of him. “It’s a long story,” said James as he danced around a watery fist. As the Water elemental was finally dispatched, the brown portal burped out another creature of living stone. It resisted Denick’s attempt to awe it utterly, and quickly tore apart the smaller earth elemental set against it. The group killed the Fire elemental just as the gray portal began to crackle with power, “Tilmara’s Bloody Pips!! How many of them do we have to kill?!!?” James yelled again. The thing that emerged was no elemental spirit. What stepped from the portal was a corrupt horror of a thing. Manlike, though no man, it carried a great glaive in its scaled, scabrous claws, and a filthy, repellently oily beard. Its lizard-claw feet and long tail clearly marked it as a fiend. Caught off guard for a moment, it quickly recovered as it realized it had been pulled onto the Prime Material. “ART THOU FOOLS? Thou dare to pull one of my ilk through the Ban? Thou unleash me into the Prime with no calling circle as defense or threat to ply me with??!? HAHAHAHAHA!!! Reap thine folly!!!” And with a gesture, the creature was no longer alone. The chamber filled with a full dozen small gibbering, blob-like fiends. The group was in dire straights and they knew it. The Earth elemental was still active, and this devil was no fly to be swatted, but a raging, blade-wielding horror. It strode into the chamber to meet its prey, and the warforged duskblade, a silent combatant so far through the fight, strode up to meet it. The chamber was filled now with the horrible stench and gibbering babble of a dozen lemures moving at the direction of the bearded devil. James took some brutal blows from the screaming blobs, and Gerdy was badly sliced. Hazu began peppering the fiends with arrows, and Denick moved to support the duskblade. The warforged’s sword snaked out and scored a hit against the fiend, but its leathery hide resisted the worst of the cut. Its glaive tore a rent in the duskblade, and the warforged stumbled, leaking fluid. It caught Denick next, and to the dwarf’s horror even when he tried to heal the wound, the wound would not close. Several of the lemures were dispatched, but there were more to fill their places, and Laythan took a bad blow from the Earth elemental before his chastisement destroyed the spirit’s corporeal form. Denick pushed in front of the warforged, relying on his tower shield for protection. Sneering, the creature sundered it moments later, and wounded him again. Flanked by the devil and his minions, the dwarf was bleeding badly. He felt his vision going grey around the edges. There was a strange buzzing in his ears. Why weren't his arms working right? By Durfindel's beard, they felt heavy. Then a rush of cold, like being doused in a mountain spring, suffuced his body, and his vision cleared. Denick glanced behind for a moment and saw Laythan there, laying a hand on his shoulder. His bleeding stopped and his strength returned. Laythan had managed to overcome the cursed wounds. “I am attempting to close the portals, but they continue to destabilize,” came the still-calm voice of the Book, “My functions were not designed for the fiendish essences you are causing me to absorb.” “So sorry that we’re an inconvenience!” yelled James, as he backstabbed a flanked lemure. The thing gurgled as its bones liquefied and it collapsed into a puddle of ooze. The group was thinning their enemies, but it wasn’t happening fast enough, and now the bearded devil was wearing down the groups’ frontline fighters. The warforged now had several wounds that refused to close, and both Denick and Laythan were injured and low on their own healing magic. Yet the construct was undaunted by his wound. A quick feint brought him low inside its glaive, sword angled up and toward the horror. He thrust forward, and the blade found purchase, piercing through the thing’s resistant hide. “So, monster, you can be hurt.” It screeched childlike in its pain as green ichor spilled down the sword, hissing and etching the metal, and then brought the glaive down. If the warforged had possessed a mouth with lips, he would have been smiling even as the weapon tore him from shoulder to hip. His legs felt strange. They no longer served his will. Then he was on his knees. Then he was on his side. But even with consciousness ebbing fast he had a victory. In the fighting, he had remembered something. It was something important. Something precious. Around him the four portals seemed to seize and pulse. There was a last flash of light, and they closed “Talowin…” he whispered The creature chuckled at the rent warforged, then screamed as a bolt of lightning the size of a tree trunk engulfed him in crackling power. Smoking and mangled it turned to see the small gnome librarian, nervously thumbing a wand. “mortal fool…” The gnome fired his wand again. The wand smoked and then cracked, its last charge consumed. As the thunder of the shot died away, there was little about the fiend that was still recognizable. Yet it still stood, and walked toward the little gnome, who chose the better part of valor at that moment. It was enough. Gerdy fired his last offensive magic as Denick, Laythan and James had finished the last of the lemures, and turned now to finish off their master. The thing tried to summon its magic to escape, but even this last resort was denied it by their flashing weapons, and its screams of rage and denial turned to whimpering pleadings. When it knew that even these were fruitless, the thing smiled and unleashed its last bit venom. “Aye, though ye might have slain me here, my curse will take one of thine to their doom. Perhaps I will visit him in Hell!” And laughing, the thing dissolved into a puddle and burst into flames. Denick and Laythan ran to the warforged fighter, still losing fluid from his wounds, “Oh no, yeh great metal clanker,” spat the dwarf, “Yeh’ll not be leaving this world quite the yet.” But the wounds proved infernally resistant to his attempt, and did not heal. Behind the adventurers, the portals flared back to life once more with a great hiccuping boom, then died a final time. The clockworks in the room took on a new screeching characteristic. The vibration increased to a low rumble. Laythan tried his healing spells. The wounds did not heal. Denick attempted again to the same result. In desperation, Gerdy poured a potion down his throat. They continued to bleed. “Something came through again just now!” James yelled, pointing at a figure slumped on the far side of the room by what had once been the red portal. “Did you know…” the warforged started. “Quiet yet damned suit of armor!” The dwarf growled. The wound did not heal. “Did you know… my name is Talowin...?” And then the warforged duskblade, Talowin, spoke no more.
pukunui 12-11-07, 02:21 AM	Wow. What a riveting recap. Steve, you've got to be one of the best storytellers on the boards here. You had me hook, line, and sinker there! I wish my recaps were that nail-bitingly exciting! Just wondering - wasn't the warforged a PC? Is the archer Hazu his replacement or something? Was one or both of them an NPC? I'm a little bit confused. I remember you discussing this encounter on your other thread not so long ago. I think it turned out well. :clap:
Subversive 12-11-07, 07:53 AM	The warforged was indeed one of the PCs, my player, Alex. Hazu is played by another friend from Hong Kong who is finally able to rejoin our campaign thanks to the wonders of Skype and web cameras, which brings the group up to six players. :) -Steve
pukunui 12-11-07, 02:52 PM	Aha. OK. So is Alex going to make a new PC now?
Subversive 12-11-07, 04:09 PM	This recap (and the one before it) is a mix of about three sessions, ending three sessions before the last one we had. He had his next character made an introduced by the end of the battle in the book room. You'll have to wait for my next recap to find out the details. :D
pukunui 12-11-07, 04:32 PM	This recap is a mix of about three sessions, ending three sessions before the last one we had. He had his next character made an introduced by the end of the battle in the book room. You'll have to wait for my next recap to find out the details. :D -Steve Ah ok I get it.
Subversive 12-11-07, 10:25 PM	Woo! Passed 1000! :cheer: -Steve
Gerry 12-12-07, 12:10 AM	:clap: :OMG! :clap: I don't have the faintest idea where to begin. What an awesome set of recaps. I'll just have to stick to the things that are on the top of my mind; - I LOVE THAT RIDDLE! "Rolled up the rug" The entire battle with the devil. Rivetting. Just read thru line by line. Wonderful work! When you were discussing ideas, I hadn't realized just HOW well it would pull in your players (and us). Your players are blessed with a wonderful DM! Gerry
Sunai_Retsinis 12-12-07, 08:55 AM	Hi Steve, That's a really amazing piece of work you are doing. :clap: :bow: It is one of the Board's Finest, I'd say. I'll have to start lurking around here day and night, otherwise I may miss a piece :D I have a more or less similar sundering in my campaign world, but it is less catastrophic. I've got a large round continent which was broken in three large pieces, which were partly sundered again many years later due to a combination of Dwarves and Gnomes digging too deep, and Elemental Giants trying to destroy 6 portals positioned around on the remains of the first Breaking. When two of these were destroyed, the world was Broken all over again. If you want my rough campaign notes, PM me back. I'll send you a PM for those amazing things you wrote about the campaign setting. I am very interested in them. Thanks in advance, Sunai
Subversive 12-12-07, 04:50 PM	Thanks guys, Sunai, Gerry. It means a lot to be hearing it. From both of you, that's strong praise indeed. Sunai, I'll email my stuff to you if you can PM me an email address to send it to. Your world sounds interesting; kind of similar sounding to Stephen King's Dark Tower cycle.
Subversive 12-27-07, 01:48 AM	* * * In its heyday, the empire of Aquilon was the largest and most powerful of the wizard kingdoms to arise after the Great Sundering. It controlled fully two thirds of the known sky, from the far Hokkaron to Gondolgan, Darnallus, and the elves of Isilmar. Only the dwarves of Karrakus, Dworrlmund, and Ostror had managed to maintain a degree of autonomy. Not all of their knowledge of elemental gateways had been lost in the Sundering, and they had developed it down unthought-of pathways. Now their great mountain homes were the mobile Skyfurnaces of Arranus, and it was the mobility and durability of their domiciles that allowed for their continued independence. In contrast to the dwarves, Aquilon was a fully developed magical power, employing a range of elemental binding techniques to field enormous airships and weapons that could, quite literally, blot out the sun over a subjugant city. The Aquilonian people suffered neither from want nor from sickness, and the empire was the most political stable entity in recorded history – at least, the history that arose from the ashes of the broken world. Magic bound their cities together, creating gateways capable of instant transport and communication. Crime was kept to non-existent levels via powerful divination and tracking abilities. The abominations and monstrosities that had arisen and adapted to the changed world (or simply taken advantage of it) were kept effectively at bay within Aquilonian dominion, and the concept of undeath was not so much a threat as it was a lifestyle choice. At the heart of the empire was the imperial city of Tartaron, where the archwizard Lenj, now emperor, made his home. Here he made his great library, intended both as a gathering for information about the world of Arranus that had changed so much since its breaking and as a repository for knowledge taken from the ancient pre-sundered world. Key to this was the construction of the oracular artifact known only as The Book. The device, which held numerous abilities now since lost, was intended primarily as a means of gathering and disseminating information about the surrounding world. Its sensors and scrying loci were capable of viewing nearly any point, and it stored the information thus gathered inside its massive clockwork structure on datamounts of Weave and dweomer. It had been speaking the truth when it told the band of adventurers of its ability to answer any question. Its stored knowledge by this point was effectively limitless. Yet it had neglected to inform the group of a problem, perhaps because the artifact itself was not necessarily aware of it. For the Book was broken. Its long centuries of neglect, combined with the cataclysm that had finally laid Aquilon low, had created a flaw in its many clockwork mechanisms. It itself was as unaware of this growing problem as a gaffer suffering from dementia is unaware of his loss of memory and reason. Oh, the knowledge and information was still there - more information than could possibly be recorded in all the parchment of the world, and more still gathered every day. Yet the pathways to that knowledge had corroded, shifted, and become labyrinthine. And now a new resonance started among its ancient gears and springs. A fatal frequency, started by the activation of mechanisms that hadn’t seen use in a thousand years and the induction of fiendish energy, was growing within its structure. And it would shake the tower apart. * * * The remaining members of the Tradewind Company stood clustered around Talowin, and his last words echoed in their minds. “Well, what should we do here?” James asked hesitantly. He was never comfortable with death. “We honor him as a fallen comrade,” replied Denick, not looking up from where the warforged lay, “and we remember his name.” “It’s just too bad that he couldn’t remember his past until that last moment.” Guttlegurge had reentered the room, and now looked down at the fallen warforged, “Think of what we could have learned from him! He was a sentient relic of a bygone era. What he could have told us could have helped us so much! What a loss!” “Yes, it’s such a shame that a resource has been lost,” James responded acerbically, “Never mind that there was an actual individual that died.” “Of course I’m upset that the construct has stopped functioning. But there’s no evident proof that these creatures actually had what you or I could term a ‘soul.’ Most evidence seems to point that the early Aquilonian-types utilized animating elemental energy in a similar form to what powered most of their devices. Of course, modern takes on the technique have employed more primitive versions, for example, the Isilmari Death’s Head Imperial Guard or…” “He had a soul,” Denick was folding the duskblade’s arms into a resting position. “You have no evidence of that.” “He had a soul,” the priest repeated. “Enough of this,” said Hazu, speaking over the squealing gears, “I’m more concerned with where I am, who some of you are, and who is he?” The group looked over at the other slumped form in front of one of the closed portal apertures. It appeared to be a human, male, maybe in his early twenties or late teens. He was dressed in armor and carried a sword on his back. “Hazu, I know you left the Tradewind company before we took up this contract,” Gerdy answered, “Our employer over there hired us for an expedition into the Cloud Sea. Right now we’re under Library of Lenj, which you may or may not have heard of in Hokkaron. Over there is the Book. Since we powered it up by killing all of those elementals, it’s going to answer a few questions for us. I think it pulled you through to help us, so I hope that didn’t inconvenience your day. The people you haven’t met here are Denick and Laythan. Laythan is a Quillari shaman. Denick is a cleric of Durfindel from Karrakus. How’ve you been?” “Better. Rotic says ‘hi.’” “You actually found him?!” “What is left of him says ‘hi.’” As they approached the unconscious man, he groaned and rolled over. Then he opened his eyes wide in alarm. “We’re not your enemies, stranger. Can you stand?” Laythan said quickly. And warily. “I don’t think so. What happened? Who are you? Did that damned wizard send you?” “Wizard? I don’t follow you.” “He transported me here, didn’t he? I should have been more careful before I challenged him. Where am I? Why is there all the noise?” The squealing was louder. The warrior tried to stand, but then stumbled onto one knee. He grabbed his sheathed sword to use as a makeshift crutch, startling the group for a moment before they understood his intent. Gerdy sighed and began to repeat himself, “You’re in the Cloud Sea of the Atalin Islands. We are a group of hired explorers. Right now, we’re exploring a structure called the Library of Lenj. The see-through woman over there is an artifact called The Book, and we mean you no harm.” “Why would the wizard send me here?” “Your transportation here seems to be accidental,” Guttlegurge replied, “Judging by your state, I would say that a fluxuation of the portal behind you pulled you through. I don’t think it treated you well.” ”No kidding. So this was just some sort of cosmic hiccup?” “If you want to use layman’s terms. More or less.” “Ok. Well how am I getting out of here then?” “Oh I rather thought you would be coming with us. You seem to know your way around that weapon there, and we have the only ship off of here. I assume a share of any recovered treasure would be enough to buy your services?” “Wait a min…” James began. ”Definitely,” the fighter cut him off. “For a share of the loot here, an a ride back to civilization, I am absolutely at your service.” “Are you kidding me?” James started, “Actually, I think we could use him,” Gerdy quickly replied, “He looks like he knows his weapon, and we need a good fighter.” James looked between Guttlegurge, Gerdy, and Eirich, who met his stare directly. “Fine!” the rogue threw up his hands and stomped off toward the far, now-empty, portal. Visions of vanishing gold talons* tormented him. “So where are you from, stranger,” asked Hazu. She looked him up and down appreciatively. “Lor Gonnath, Darnallus. Though I trained some in Hokkaron.” “Really???” The ranger arched an eyebrow. ”Enough!” snapped Guttlegurge. “We have more important matters at hand!” He turned to the Book, which floated silently still in the center of the room, “Have you the energy you need to do our bidding?” “Yes. I have the necessary energy to perform the function you require.” “Excellent!” The gnome cried. “Why’s it getting so loud?” the rogue called out to them from his sulking corner. “My mechanisms are destabilizing. The resonance is irrepairable and progressive.” The party froze. “What?” began Guttlegurge. “In approximately 5 minutes my structure will suffer a cascading failure that will cause it to collapse, and likely break through the thin shelf of stone it sits upon.” “Gods, gods, gods…. Gods damn it!” The gnome yelled out to no one. “Fine! There’s only one question I have that matters anyway.” He inhaled for a moment. Here his life’s work was reaching an apex, “Book, how was Arranus sundered earth from sea? And how can the world be restored?” The Book’s answer was not what he expected. “The Netherhold lies sunken deep. Beneath the Great Ocean does it keep. If you seek to set the world right, Search out Prion’s last drowned light.” “What?” the gnome was clearly taken aback by this response, but the Book was not finished, and in a deep, ringing tone that sounded nothing like a woman, it rang out, “That which was broken cannot be restored. But it can be reforged.” Denick’s head shot up as though electrocuted. His eyes were wide with shock. “WHAT???” “It’s spouting poetry now?” James asked. “Bad poetry” replied Laythan. Guttlegurge and Gerdy both were busy furiously scribbling down the strange response on parchment. “I’ve got a question for you, Book,” the rogue shouted over the din of squalling gears, “Who killed my family and where can I find him?” “The pirate Morgholt, who was the reaver of men, now seeks the reaving of nations. The first ember lights the bonfire. Seek him under the meeting of Three Winds.” “Does that mean anything to you, James?” Gerdy asked as he wrote. ”Not a Hells’ damned thing. But it’s a start,” the thief replied. “You’re not the only one who’s lost family, James,” Hazu replied, “I have the same question, Book. Who slaughtered my village?” “The reaver of your kin is the reaver of his. Morgholt rests in the darkness below.” Hazu and James’ eyes met at this, and they moved toward the door to confer. Lathan moved to stand before the Book. There was a discernable vibration coming from the walls and floor now. “Book, I have only one question that has troubled me. I am the child of a tribal leader. One day I fear that responsibility might fall to me. How can I be a strong leader for my people?” “Strength to lead arises from the strength of your people. The two halves must unite for the kin to be restored. Seek the Keepers of Eth in the Wood of the Witch.” Laythan stepped back, confused. That was clearly more answer then he had bargained for, and would take a great deal of thought. He knew nothing of the Wood of the Witch, nor of the Keepers of Eth, though the word rang familiar. ‘Eth’ meant ‘memory’ in Quillari. Now it was Gerdy’s turn. The gnome stopped his furious writing for a moment to look up at the figure floating before him. The shaking was making it hard to keep his pen to the paper anyway. He had a hopeful look on his face “I think whatever you’re about to ask him, you’d best make it quick,” stated Eirich. “I do have a question. Book, where is my family? My mother, father and brother…how can I find them?” “Your family is trapped beneath the Endless Sea. The Netherhold of Prion holds the Key” Gerdy resumed his writing, determined despite the tremors that were now wracking the structure. A large gear came loose from the ceiling, and fell to the floor beside him with a tremendous crash. Three more landed on the far side of the room. “I have a question, since Guttlegurge asked yeh me other question first,” Denick was still crouched besides Tallowin, “Where be the dragon that ate both me father and me uncle?” “Abithriax of the Red is bethralled by one who speaks for the mother of his kind. One who is wyrm and yet not. One who is the bonfire that lights the inferno. Seek them both in the mountains of Scale and Smoke.” It meant nothing to Denick, but at least it was a start. The shaking in the room was tremendous and deafening now. “I don’t care about asking any more questions,” Eirich yelled, “If everyone else is done, I say that we get the Hells out of here!” “I concur,” followed Guttlegurge, “it’s far too risky to remain. Such a shame… such a waste…” The ceiling was beginning to buckle as the company left. Denick spared one look back. Talowin lay before the dias. His hands were folded, and he seemed peaceful. The Book floated above him, serenely regarding the dwarf. It would remain there throughout eternity if allowed, but the fates had other plans. “Come, Denick,” Laythan put a hand on his shoulder, “Leave the fallen to their peace.” Denick signed and turned as rubble and dust obscured his sight. It was indeed time to leave. The Library buckled and heaved around them as they ran. Blocks of stone shifted, and cracked, and the dust of the ages clouded their sight. Shortly after, they were outside the building and watching as the tower groaned and swayed. Immense gears and wheels fell from the spire, crashing into the roof of the structure below. There was a great crack, and then the ground began to shake. As the group backed up further, the entire stone shelf that the library was perched upon gave way beneath the tower. Shards of floatstone rocketed into the air, where they hung, spinning slowly round and round. The great library groaned, and then with a series of sharp snaps and a towering cloud of dust, followed the tower into the abyss. Gradually the ground stopped rumbling and dust settled over what remained of the dead city. Then all was silent once more. Where the Library once stood there was now only a cliff top. Beneath, far far beneath, the Maelstrom swirled as it greedily claimed another prize. *Talons are the unit of currency of Darnallus. They are freely accepted in that Atalins as well, due to Darnallus' military protectorate of the region.
Prom 12-31-07, 11:26 PM	I'm always looking forward to your next recap, and I just finished reading your last one. Very COOL. The 'Book' reminds me of a computer or the revolving planet structure from the 'dark crystal' movie. It even has similarities to the Librarian from the 'The Time machine' movie. A wonderful story so far. Prom
Subversive 01-01-08, 09:53 AM	Thanks, Prom. I'm hoping to have the next update available by the end of the week. The recap is still approximately 3 sessions behind current, so there's plenty of material to work off of.
Subversive 01-06-08, 09:17 PM	To everyone eagerly awaiting my next update (cough... crickets...), it won't be posted this weekend. I'm about half through it, if not a little more, and then I'll need to polish. Maybe in a few days, unless I get *really* preoccupied with it...