A letter

Written in a jagged, awkward script, spotted with tears, and stained with a faint, rusty streak of blood:

To: Elessar Kennyrghymn
Keeper of Lore
Grey Archive

My dearest Elessar,

Your advice will be the death of me. On your words, I took to the land to see what I could learn outside of the "musty confines" of our library. I have found nothing but anguish. Our world is filled with monsters, and only the best of them have the decency to appear as such.

I met up with a diverse group of travelers and decided to join them in their efforts to free a town under assault by the undead. I've been nothing but cordial and helpful, yet I'm constantly rebuffed by them all. Still, the cause is noble, and at least one of them has made some attempt at conversation, albeit highly confusing conversation.

My "companions", as such, are an extremely elderly elf who has no evident pleasures beyond burning things and chess, a quiet young human from the village we came to save who joined with us after we suffered a loss, a lovely young woman that we found along the way, a perplexing halfling—the one I mentioned before, most amoral—and a perfectly nasty human whose behavior has gone from merely rude to positively cruel.

You see, my friend, I've discovered that the evils plaguing this town all stem from a villainous vampire lord, and I am beholden to fight him. It is this fight that cost me something precious. I write this letter—this coarse and terrible letter—with my left hand, as my right has been taken from me. There is no one here capable of healing my injury, and my own studies have not progressed so far yet, either. I am crippled, miserable, and mocked by those I travel with. Was this the lesson you intended me to learn? The world is harsh and callous, and I cannot expect anyone to help those in need. I would rather have stayed and mouldered along with my books than learn this.

I weep alone, my friend. My only true companion is Gladys, and even she is incapable of truly understanding what has befallen me. I would give anything to be safe at home with you and the others once again.

Mournfully,
Naaran Anaraan
Senior Lorekeeper
Grey Archive (formerly, and hopefully again)

P.S. E, the human I complained of, has apologized for his insensitive words and offered to pay half the cost of the prosthetic arm I've arranged to have made. It may take some time to get used to, once it arrives, but I'm sure the mythril will look absolutely stunning with my hair. -Regards, Naaran

Since Typing a Response Seems Too Complicated

I can make our next Ravenloft game if it's:
	June 28
	July 5
	Both
	Neither
pollcode.com free polls

(Although comments might help.)

Will we get the full 7 responses?
	Yes
	No
pollcode.com free polls

I say...this!

http://www.ctrlaltdel-online.com/comic.php

4e First Impressions

Again, Tiefling PC's?!?!? I just don't know how I feel about that. Hmmm... Overall, the system feels a little barebones compared to 3.5. But, I suppose that just leaves WotC lots of room to issue more rulebooks, right? More spells, I think, are going to be badly needed. On the whole though, it looks interesting, so we'll see. Just a lot less complexity in the system, and a lot less detail in the core books--especially the DMG.

I'm also not sure how I feel about the "Warlord" class. It basically takes the combat role of a bard (i.e. inspiration) , since bards aren't one of the core classes, and combines it with the fighter/paladin melee powers. Seems a little much.

The books themselves are--at first glance--the same quality as previous editions. At. First. Glance. The covers are the same high-quality abuse absorbing covers we've come to expect from D&D books, but the interior pages are of an inferior paper stock than that used in 3e, or at least so it seems to me.

He who is the Land

Another excerpt from The Tome of Strahd deciphered by Naaran...

I stood there, watching the struggles of the three women I had bound to the altars surrounding me grow weaker and weaker as I watched their lifeblood drained from their necks. As I watched the blood flow down carefully cut flutes to fill an intricate channel on the floor I licked my bloody lips, savoring the holy blood that stained them. The blood of these three women was as holy as one might expect from a saint, and stung my undead lips faintly in a subtle ecstasy that almost reminded me of some of the delicacies I enjoyed in life.

One by one the saints of this land stilled in death; their blood continuing to flow out of their lifeless forms, shriveling them and desiccating their corpses, transforming them into hideous disfigured husks. Continuing with the ritual, I began to chant, and the pattern at my feet started to pulse and glow with an unholy light and I could feel power crackle in the air. Faint lines of smoke began to trail from the corpses of the women toward me, encircling me, twining about my form like a lovers caress. Small arcs of electricity began to flash in the thickening haze, causing my weak minded servants to cower against the walls in fear. But their fear was not shared by their Master! No, I could feel my powers strengthening as I sapped the very powers these women sought to protect to further bolster the might that I gained through my dark pact that led to my undeath!

With an unexpected suddenness, powerful bolts of lightning arced out from my body to strike each woman full in the chest! The shriveled bodies of the three saints began to jerk and convulse as though still alive, simultaneously arching their backs against the altars they were bound to and letting loose pain and hate filled shrieks that echoed around the chamber. I watched, rapt, as their chest cracked open with a horrible snapping noise, prune-like lumps of darkest red emerging from the holes to hover in the air above each figure. With newfound insight taken from the land I realized that what I had just witnessed, what I had just been the impetus for, was the creation of three creatures, not of undeath, but of the underworld. I watched as one by one the hate and malice filled eyes of the three newly created hags slid open to fasten on the blood red stones that had once been their hearts, hovering inches above them.

It was then that I forced oaths, bound by the powers of Barovia, from them to serve me as stewards to the fanes of this land that I had twisted to my own designs. I know they loathe me and seek my death at any cost, but I know too that they are bound to me, and to this land, and cannot stand against my power, even combined as one. I regret only that the ritual was flawed; I control the powers of the land of Barovia, but my keys to that power are tied up in the shriveled hardened hearts of those three disgusting wretches. I do gain some pleasure however, knowing that the hags who hate me so will defend my power to their deaths just to protect their once blessed hearts…

It's Shipped.

My 4e rules are on their way from Amazon.

June 28th game

So, given that June 28th seems problematic for people, Degolar has put forth the daring suggestion that rather than try and compress and rearrange the schedule all over the place, we just move the game date to July 5th. Is anyone out of town that weekend that couldn't come?

Just wanted to give the subject a bump.

Rules, Rules, Rules... Redux

So, I've been reading Keep on the Shadowfell and eagerly anticipating 4e, and this has got me thinking about rules again. Basically, I have plans to run three different campaigns at this point (eventually I want to play again too, so somebody else better think about DM'ing in the future). Those three being Ptolus, a Pathfinder Campaign, and a 4e campaign. Obviously, the 4e campaign will be run under the 4e rules (redundant much?), but that leaves the question of the other two open. The Pathfinder rules and campaign setting will be coming out in the next year-- I like to think of it as 3.75-- so the Pathfinder campaign will be run under those rules. Ptolus was written for 3.0-3.5, but I think without much tweaking it can easily be run under the Pathfinder rules. However, I was thinking that there are things that I already like about 4e which may or may not be feasible to incorporate into house rules; sort of a 3.8-3.9 rules set (think at-will Magic Missile). But in my mind, one of the most exciting decisions I've made is that I'm going to run the 4e game in a homebrew campaign setting--within the parameters of the 4e rules. I haven't thought too much about the details yet, but that should wait until I get a look at the complete 4e rules.

Huhuh

Summer

So sticking to our current pattern, the next Ravenloft games should be:

June 7
June 28
July 19
August 9

But I'm going to be out of town June 28. Do we want to reschedule that one session and leave the rest? Skip the session? Play without me? Alter the pattern?

Do the rest of the dates work for everyone else? Do we have any other dates to worry about?

And once we figure all of that out, when will we slot in Hadrian's 4E game(s)?

Torias Anyone?

"The new character introduced in the middle of the game is always in the next room, held captive by the bad guys. Thus it was handed down to us from olden times."

From here.

I Volunteer

... to run a 4e game some time this summer. What prompted this decision? Two things: a) I've already pre-ordered the Core books, and b) I've got a coupon for five dollars off my next purchase at Valhalla's Gate which I have to redeem before I leave town. So, I'm going to pick up the first 4e adventure, Keep on the Shadowfell. So, resist the temptation to buy it, read it, read about it, etc. I've been jonesing to DM for a while now, and doing so under a new rules set will probably make me look like a better DM, since no one else will know the rules any better. (And don't worry, sooner or later, we will play Ptolus...).

A little history

I am the Ancient, I am the Land. My beginning sare lost in the darkness of the past. I was the warrior, I was good and just. I thundered across the land like the wrath of a just god, but the war years and the killing years wore down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand.

All goodness slipped from my life; I found my youth and strength gone, and all I had left was death. My army settled in the valley of Barovia and took power over the people in the name of a just god, but with none of a god’s grace or justice.

I called for my family, long unseated from their ancient thrones, and brought them here to settle in the castle Ravenloft. They came with a younger brother of mine, Sergei. He was handsome and youthful. I hated him for both.

From the families of the valley, one spirit shone above all others. A rare beauty, who was called “perfection,” “joy,” and “treasure.” Her name was Tatyana, and I longed for her to be mine.

I loved her with all my heart. I loved her for her youth. I loved her for her joy. But she spurned me! “Old One” was my name to her – “elder” and “brother” also. Her heart went to Sergi. They were betrothed. The date was set.

With words she called me “brother,” but when I looked into her eyes they reflected another name – “death.” It was the death of the aged that she saw in me. She loved her youth and enjoyed it. I had squandered mine.

The death she saw in me turned her from me. And so I came to heat death, my death. My hate is very strong; I would not be called “death” so soon.

I made a pact with death, a pact of blood. On the day of the wedding, I killed Sergei, my brother. My pact was sealed with is blood.

I found Tatyana weeping in the garden east of the chapel. She fled from me. She would not let me explain, and a great anger swelled within me. She had to understand the pact I made for her. I pursued her. Finally, in despair, she flung herself from the walls of Ravenloft, and I watched everything I ever wanted fall from my grasp forever.

It was a thousand feet through the mists. No trace of her was ever found. Not even I know her final fate.

Arrows from the castle guards pierced me to my soul, but I did not die. Nor did I live. I became frozen, became “Vampyr,” forever.

- Excerpt from The Tome of Strahd

Ignore the Halfling at Your Own Peril

More emails tonight in response to the silence. Just remember that's the character talking and not me. ;-)

Pre-Order

So, I pre-ordered 4e today. The question is-- who will be running our first game under the new rules?

And Blogger is being a tempermental bitch today.

Getting Back in the Habit

I'd ask that you start checking your circumstancedesign email again, because things are afoot.

And if Maro doesn't read this blog, would you please pass the word onto him, Aerin? We can make him a blog contributor, too, if he wants.

Lummossey part III

"And so we were making our way through one of the enemies strongholds, and we came upon this cook."
Lummox spun his tale to his children, a mug of ale at his side, nearly empty. His wife noticed it and filled it for him, but before giving it back to him, took a long pull of it, leaving foam on her upper lip. Lummox noticed this and stood up and grabbed her in a deep embrace, dipping her low.
"You missed a bit." He leaned in and kissed her deeply.
As they stood straight again, their children moaned. "Awwww. Come one. That's gross. finish the story. What happened next?"



Lummox stood, eyes wide, staring at the vision of beauty and ferocity that stood before him.
Laura waved her hand in front of his face.

"Hey!" She shouted, a wry grin on her face. "Snap out of it. What's wrong? Never seen a real woman before?"

Lummox shook his head a little as his thoughts cleared. "Apparently not. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Laura started cleaning her blade, "I had brothers and didn't want to do the house work. I fought them for it and I guess, after a while, I just got really good at it. It was a pain when they started using weapons, but I soon found my skill with a sword and it just grew from there."

"You-" Lummox stammered, "you have no formal training?"

"Not really," Laura said absently, cleaning off the gore from her armor. "I mean, I have picked some stuff up as I traveled with other warriors. I learned some from observing them and their enemies as they fought. I learned a lot from fighting on my own. It just seems to come pretty natural to me. By the way, your griffon is choking on something."

Lummox looked over his shoulder at Fluffy. It was perfect timing, as the griffon had just gotten up a piece femur that was stuck in his throat, along with a wad of hair and gore. Lummox sighed and turned back to Laura. "That would be Fluffy," he said, a little embarrassed. "He isn't the most refined of beasts, but he is my friend and a good and loyal companion." More hacking noises and some wet, thudding sounds came from behind Lummox. He grinned, turning a bit red.

Laura tried not to look at the griffon. She noticed Lummox blushing and did a bit herself. "You're kind of cute for an older dwarf."



Lummox sat back in his chair pulling Laura onto his lap and into a tight embrace.
"So you little brats want some more story do you? Well, you will have to wait until tomorrow night. It is past your bedtime."
He rose and let Laura gracefully to the ground and shooed the children off to bed. As the children trudged off he turned to Laura, "and I am very sure it is time for you to get into bed as well."
From up the hall he heard the children groan a disgusted "ewwwwww."
Laura rolled her eyes and stared into his.
"You know," she said with a mischievous smile, "You're kind of cute for an older dwarf."
He grinned. "So are you." He ducked the blow deftly and rushed to get to beat her to the bedroom.

The State of E

As he sat in his room, meditating, Entrasta (known only to his companions as E) let his thoughts turn to his purpose and to the current quest. And as always, his thoughts are against him again. They form into a separate image of him, younger, less muscle tone, and much shorter hair. He wouldn't mind so much, but then, the other "him" speaks. And what makes it worse, only lets Entrasta call it by his former name, Reik:


"You know," Reik said with a wry smile, "you are really are terrible at this whole Monk business. You should really think about quitting and coming back to me. Think of how much fun we had: snatching purses, stealing food, running through the streets..."

"Running from the guard or the shop owners or angry victims you mean." Entrasta said with a grimace. "Why would I want to give up that life? Always starving. No discipline. No place to call home. No friends."

"We had friends," Reik protested..

"No friends we could trust. Having to live life in a shadow of fear and suspicion. Heaven on earth. Now let me meditate."

"Fine. Meditate," Reik sulked. "Just remember where you came from. Oh and good job keeping your vow of silence. What was that? 2 years this time? You know, most 'disciplined' disciples can pull off 10 easy."

"Most disciples don't have to go out on redemption quests for not following the code of the monastery. Most disciples," Entasta's tone became darker, "can control their anger and human urges, and don't have a ghost of their former self pestering them every time they turn around."

"Most disciples can hone their minds to avoid such distractions." Reik was grinning wryly again. Entrasta punched out and hit Reik in the eye. Reik's head snapped back with the blow. When he recovered, he rubbed at the now swelling eye. "Good one. I'm guessing you want me to go away so you can meditate."

Entrasta didn't move. He just sat, eyes closed.

"I'm just going to go now." Reik said, rising. "but don't worry. I'll be back. I know how you worry so."

Entrasta just sat, and only the barest hint of a grin curved the edge of his lips.

Reik was gone. Entrasta tried to regain his focus and began to relax again. It would be made all the more difficult with the newly forming black eye throbbing under his left eye, but he would get there eventually.

Report from the Field

I can only hope that this will reach you, but I think things have settled enough that it has a good chance of arriving. It would not have been possible before now. As assigned, I was scouting the territory to assess it's profit potential. I'm afraid I have bad news on that front, as the entire area seems to be a dying backwater with no wealth to speak of. I don't see the Caravan gaining anything by spreading our network in this direction. However, there is news of a much stranger sort. While I was looking for purses to snatch in a tavern one evening, a messenger from a neighboring village arrived with a desperate call for help. Not seeing any reason to sit around and figuring those who responded to such a call would be the most interesting figures available, I joined in the rescue attempt.

We found the village of Borovia to be a town under siege by its own dead and nearly destroyed. It took a bit of investigative work and a few additional deaths, but we rooted out the source of the scourge and brought it to an end. Unfortunately, the town has little wealth and a offered a negligible reward for our help beyond relief and gratitude. I was glad to help, but there was little gain.

I suspect my adventure has just begun, however. We may have defeated the immediate threat, but a far greater evil (and, I believe, treasure) looms over the valley in the form of Castle Ravenloft and what appears to be a vampire lord. My companions have made it their quest to hunt and destroy this Strahd. I know it is beyond the scope of my mission, but I feel joining them provides the only possibility of making this venture worthwhile. We have gained the assistance of a fortune teller and are beginning to gather what tools may be available to us.

I am extremely puzzled by my companions, unfortunately. We normally think of the big people as loud, slow, and brutish, but this entire group lacks their usual boisterousness. So far I have been trying to remain in the shadows and escape much notice, but I fear we are destined to fail if something doesn't change. I honestly can't figure out what reason any of them have for being here and taking on this fight, for they have expressed no motivation or reason for their actions. In fact, if we weren't interacting with our actions, we might not interact at all. Conversation is non-existent, so all I know about them is a few simple traits each. The old elven mage is angry, withdrawn, and likes to burn. The young elven caster is mothering (and sometimes smothering) and considers herself knowledgeable, but lacks assertiveness. The monk is rigid--although he didn't even have the discipline to maintain his holy vows--and says little. The fighter fights. All of them are quiet and uncommunicative and no one seems willing to take the lead and make decisions.

I know I am but a warrior, would rather not draw attention to myself, and lack the wisdom and intelligence for the task, but I think it may be necessary for me to take charge of the situation in the absence of anyone else willing to take on the role. It is not our way, but I am going to allow myself to be known by my companions in an effort to draw them out of their shells. We need to gain knowledge of each other and build trust, or I fear we are doomed to fail.

I do not know when I will have another chance to report, but I will attempt to do so as the opportunity presents itself. I hope to make the Caravan proud and return with at least a worthy tale.

--Oban

Teaser for Ravenloft

And now Hillary Clinton, with significant voter support, is plodding ahead, stuck with a strategy that at this point leaves her only the nuclear option of nullifying Obama's primary and caucus victories. But, she can reason, if I am not dead, then I'm still alive--and still have a chance. Politically speaking, she is somewhere between dead and alive. The undead?

Or maybe not

Yay! I Remembered

. . . to level my character before the next game.

When is it, by the way?

Satyr Day?

4e stuff

PHB lite

More stuff here.

A brief tease/reminder of where we left off

Sitting back from the neighboring buildings is a dilapidated church. In contrast to the relatively sturdy construction of the buildings nearby, the church appears to be in a state of advanced decay. An edifice of worn, grey stone and sagging, rotten timbers, the structure squats on a slight rise at the edge of the village. Beyond it, you make out the base of the jutting peak that the omnipresent castle sits perched upon, like a great, menacing gargoyle leering down at the town through the darkness and swirling mists. Light flickers through sodden, collapsed holes in the shingles of the church and the sound of hoarse chanting is audible within.

Speaking of Ravenloft...

A reminder, game numero dos is next Saturday, April 5th at my place again so far. Bring your gaming hats and we should finish the inital entry into the town and hopefully be ready to venture forth from there for the next time.

See ya in a week!

Other Games...

So, my friend Nate has finally found himself a game in the big city. Congratulations to him. You can check out their game here.

Like I've said in the past, I think in the future we should really keep track of our games so that the story is not lost. And obviously, blogs are a great way to do that. Thus the creation of this site, and this one, and hell... this one. I assume Leelu is still faithfully chronicling the new Ravenloft campaign?

Rules, Rules, Rules...

Lately I've been on a RPG buying spree. Besides Hollow Earth Expedition, I also picked up the Savage Worlds basic rules, and-- truth be told-- some more d20 stuff. I'm interested in seeing how all of the different systems work-- not just playing one because that's the one I'm familiar with. Who knows?-- I might find out that one of the other systems is way better. So be prepared guys, I'll need someone to test these things out with me.

Of course, as Leelu and I discussed the other night, one of the great, yet wholly irrational appeals of the d20 system is the dice. All those lovely polyhedrals just make it so much fun. Which is the problem with GURPS (a system I haven't yet bought, but just might still)-- it only uses d6... which is kinda boring. Savage Worlds uses different dice, and in fact may give you more opportunities to use a variety of dice than d20 does. Hollow Earth Expedition introduces the Ubiquity system which is based on an even/odd "success" roll, so you can use any dice you want.

I want to try all of these rules at one time or another, for one game or another, but we'll probably always find our way back to d20. Why? Familiarity, investment of time, and last but certainly not least-- investment of money. I've got way too many d20 books to simply forsake the system. Which of course raises the question-- Fourth Edition or no? Let's be honest... we all know I'm going to buy the new set when it comes out (Happy Birthday to me!), but is it going to be the system I use? I don't know. It might not be the system I use when I DM-- which I really am planning on doing some day, honest. You might have to wait until after the Bar exam... but that is getting closer and closer all the time. Quite frankly, I've been buying so much RPG stuff and have so many games I want to run I don't know how I'll ever have time for it all. Maybe I'll leave all the 4.0 game mastering to Scott and Jason. I really do want to do a Hollow Earth Expedition campaign, and maybe a Savage Worlds pirate-themed campaign (with high fantasy already covered by d20 I think the other systems could be better used for something else). I also wouldn't mind tackling a couple of old school games... and when I say old school, I do mean old (not Chainmail old, but still...), Basic and Expert. Who wouldn't like to play Keep on the Borderlands using the old rules?

But then, I've got 3.5 modules, adventures, and resources out the yin-yang. Which brings us to...

Ptolus. Ptolus was written for and with the 3rd edition rules. By the time it came out, everything was adapted for 3.5, so it only makes sense to use the 3.5 rules to play it. I'm not sure how difficult 4.0 conversion would be for Ptolus, but why bother? I know a lot of you are really excited about the prospect of visiting the city by the spire, and so am I, but there is another adventure I'm also pumped about running: Rise of the Runelords (Tiger-- don't read these! You've already read or played the Hook Mountain Massacre, haven't you?).

Paizo has really stepped up to the plate with the Pathfinder series. Bigtime. I was blown away when I read the first chapter of Rise of the Runelords-- Burnt Offerings. It is one hell of an adventure, and the Pathfinder setting is simply awesome. We will definitely be playing it-- maybe before Ptolus. While the Ptolus setting is amazing and meticulously detailed, I wasn't as impressed by the adventures. The material is there to make some really in-depth and exciting stories, sure, but the "Welcome to Ptolus" modules pale in comparison to the Pathfinder adventures. I've been so impressed by all of the Pathfinder stuff I've read, that I might just make it the default setting for my Dm'ing. Which just makes recent events in the gaming world more interesting. Paizo recently announced that they will not convert Pathfinder to 4.0. In fact, they are spinning off Pathfinder as a new RPG under the Open Game License. Basically, Paizo decided it was going to release 3.75. For the next year Paizo is doing open play testing on the new system (not really new, it's just a major tweak of 3.5). The alpha version is available as a .pdf here. The beta version will be for sale as a paperback, or available as a free .pdf in August. Next August they plan on releasing the fully playtested version in hardback. Unless 4.0 completely blows me away... I think there is a very good chance that Pathfinder might be my game of choice in the future.

Thoughts?

I laughed so hard I choked

But I am one sick puppy.

Read this.

Remember, this is a real rule being explored. No pun intended.

Make sure to read the comments. It's where the true genius lies. Such as this stat working:

I can get to +96 with Take 10 by 20th-level.

23 skill ranks
+13 Dexterity (36 dexterity: 18 base, +2 halfling, +5 stat boosts, +5 stat tomes, +5 gloves of dexterity)
+23 item familiar (69 skill ranks placed into item familiar)
+30 custom ring
+2 Llira's Blessing (Player's Guide to Faerun, page 176)
+2 Agile
+3 Skill Focus (escape artist)
-----
Total = +96 Escape Artist bonus (with Take 10 assuming you have levels in Exemplar)

Future DMs, quake with fear! And mild to moderate revulsion. I'll just be giggling my sick little butt off in the corner.

450 posts later...

World of Warcraft has caused many a sleepless night. Ironically, insomnia is also a cause of World of Warcraft. Sometimes you just can't get up and read anymore Estates and Trusts. So, I made my dream WoW party. Some of the names had to be spelled differently to avoid duplication with existing characters on the server, but I think you understand.





Unfortunately, there is no bard class in WoW, so I thought Druid was the most appropriate available class for the Night Elves.

The beginning of the end

A gaunt man in priest robes stands behind an altar, addressing his congregation. His robes are stained and disheveled and his eyes are glassy, and unfocused. In a shrill, breathless voice he calls out, “My children, a true miracle has occurred! As you know, my poor son was struck down by evil a short time ago, but with the blessings of the heavens he has returned to me! Rejoice my brethren! Doru, come, join us!"

A door in the entry hall of the small church swings open and a barely recognizable monstrosity of stitched together limbs shambles out, carrying with it the charnel reek of decay and ruin. The monster lumbers forward several steps as women scream in terror and men recoil in horror. “No, do not be alarmed my children, look upon my dear, sweet Doru…do you not all recognize the miracle that stands before you?!” the man shouts the last out, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. One parishioner, desperate to escape, charges the unholy creation and thrusts a dagger into its belly, causing the monstrous creation to open its mouth. However, rather than emitting a shout of pain, a noxious black cloud spews forth, filling the air. The screams intensify as people inhale the fumes, clawing at their necks as dark lines start to streak under their skins where their veins trace paths. The screams fade as the congregation begins to slide lifelessly to the ground.

“Doru…Doru…what have they done! Oh, oh my poor son, what did they do to you, did they frighten you? Are you hurt?” the crazed man shambles forward, oblivious to the groans of the dying around him. “Demons, foul evil were they, to not praise such a miracle. Its ok my dear boy, no reason to be mournful, they were not righteous, and so they were cast down. Now come, let us go and see about that wound…” The priest shuffles forward, propelling the decaying monstrosity back through the door it emerged from, leaving the corpse-strewn nave behind him.

4E

I was checking my bloglines earlier tonight and found this little tidbit. Not much information, but it's something. Thought you all might be interested.

Hehe

Ravenloft Game

Just to make sure we all can agree and schedules work out for us *hopes* I want to start the game on Saturday, March 15th here at my place, around 6-6:30 or so. Does this work for you guys? I know Maro can make it, he'll be in town for spring break, but I wanted to verify it with everyone.

Also, please email me if you haven't and let me know an email address you check every day or two so we can communicate more easily and don't have a snafu like last time (I apologize, that was my fault, my organizational skills are covered in dust).

Tiger, if you have it finished, could you shoot me a run down of your character just so I know what to expect and can figure out how to kill all of your characters mercilessly in unique and twisted ways?

Sad day for rpg fans

Sad news.

So I Need to Know

Is Saturday a go?

From My Inbox

Well, we've had a week to decompress from our run in once more with the cult of Tharizdun, so its time to start looking toward the dark, gothic spires of the Castle Ravenloft. Maro (my brother) will be in town this upcoming weekend (2/23) and he and I would both like to start the campaign up this weekend if possible. Will this work for everyone? I propose the initial night be over here at my apartment Saturday at 6-6:30PM or so and running until...we stop :P If you need any help with characters or what I'll allow just let me know and I'll get back to you asap. This is going to be straight up 3.5, though I haven't finalized any house rules but death will be less of a monster as in Scott's games as I don't believe in character death creating a 45 minute hold up :P Oh, you might want to think of a backup character though, some undead if they kill you, cause you to rise up as undead and at that point your death is final, finito, done. Not something I'm going to try and do to each of you, just a warning to keep in mind as I want to try and make sure a sense of terror exists in the world, given the setting.

Let me know!

El DM Nuevo [Jason]

Talisman

Okay, Mr. DM no have time to run game anymore, but what are the chances of occasional Talisman games? Near future is not feasable, most likely, but give it a think.

moar humorous pics

Whorey Dorie

We have this vile servant of evil at our disposal; surely we're not going to let him get away without a good interrogation? What are your questions and how will you prompt an honest response? Perhaps Scott will be so good as to slip his DM hat on a few more times to provide answers.

post-Prympin

Thanks, everyone, for humoring me with one last tryst as your DM. I enjoyed it.

Kudos to Jeral for making an excellent roleplaying choice when you 'went bear' and landed on that fish-man. That's the stuff of legend. There were a few other memorable nuggets of roleplaying goodness from the session, but that's the one that stands out the most.

Reklann, I had intended for you to track the BBEG back to the lighthouse, but we just ran out of time. Sorry about that.

I really enjoyed having Finn with us. I hope we might pick up these characters at some later point. But it'll be a while.

And the rest of you, Gal-VOR-an, Vadanya (the little russian girl), and (t)Hestral, you were all great as usual.

I'm glad that most of you decided to change up your character types from the ToEE campaign. The Tharizdunian link wasn't anticipated, but after I saw that adventure, I thought it would be a nice tie-in.

Tharizdun Lives

Pulpy

I'm really getting way too invested in RPG's and adventures that I'll probably never have time to run. Between Ptolus, Rise of the Runelords, my miscellaneous modules, and Eberron... I don't know how I'll ever get to it all. And now... I've gone and purchased yet another system. If you're ever tired of fantasy and D20, we should totally give this a spin:

Big Prympin', baby

Saturday is the second (and last) installment of the Prymp adventure. I hope to see you all at Degolar's fabulous manor around 6-6:30. He's graciously agreed to host.

I've heard from only two of you about enhancing your characters. Thanks to you both. I don't see a problem with implementing the suggestions you've given me. I'm hoping that these characters will be used again in the future, if I (or another) has time to run a Greyhawk adventure.

Here's a little tease for Saturday.

The ancient ship's prow justs up from the nasty waters, its surface a hopeless tangle of ruin, driftwood, and refuse of the worst kind.

Oh, and last time, you uncovered some scribbles in the asylum cell of the alleged Lantern Man. Those might be important.

session 2 planning

D+D in a week. Any ideas you might have for making your characters more real would be gladly listened to. Just email me. And I'll try to incorporate them!

Jeral answers the call

And, predictably, writes home to his mother.

session 1

Starting around 6-6:30 at my place!

Galvoran's History, Meta-game Style

Some of you may remember that you picked up Galvoran in Highfolk mid-adventure because you needed an arcane caster (and didn't care about the dead Druid, sniff). He was an apprentice at the magic shop in town. From an academic background, he had achieved 5th level purely through reading and laboratory work. He holds arcane knowledge in higher esteem than anything and thinks higher of himself as a specialist in arcane knowledge than he does most other people, but he has very little real world experience--he is a young, untested student who thinks he can learn anything he needs to from a book and those who don't have the wisdom to revere book learning aren't worth his time. He is an Evoker who specializes in fire. To see his worldview in action, read this.

A late-comer

"Forgive me for intruding, but I was delayed. I received a letter that an issue of dire importance required my assistance."

The green robed stranger stands by the group of travelers, gripping tightly to a letter that bears the seal easily recognized by those before him. From his neck hangs a wooden pendant of an intricately carved horizon.

"My name is Hestral. I am a follower of He who Wanders. I have traveled far to be here. May I take a seat?"

an adventure begins

Once a jewel in Ahlissa's crown, Prymp was fashionable for its 'Isle of Delights', a man-made city structure, held above the ocean by sturdy wooden timbers. The Isle was home to exotic courtesans, lavishly bedecked merchants, and thinly disguised nobility. The city was a hotspot for the rich and licentous of the Flanaess.

But the violence and poverty of the Greyhawk Wars wrecked much of the former Great Kingdom, Ahlissa and Prymp included. What now remains is a rotten husk of the debaucherous, indolent city. Prymp's outlandish income stream is all but dried up. The rich stopped coming. A new population found a home in the city's four districts. Refugees, poor and desperate. And another group, alchemists. Free from restrictions on their experimentation, alchemists set up shop in Prymp and proceeded to pollute the air and water with their craft. Toxic clouds and sludge poured from their factories. Tanners and butchers practice their trades without conscience, dumping their byproducts into the water outside their workplaces.

The port, a natural shelter from the rough weather of Relmor Bay, is now perpetually shrouded with a dirty miasma of smoke and vapor. The walls and roofs of buildings are covered with a greasy film, and the waters under the Isle are now befouled with sludge and sewage. In the eastern part of the city, the sludge has become so thick that the water doesn't flow, leaving that quarter's buildings hovering over rancid mud.


A band of adventurers has gathered at the Seven Knaves Tavern, a dank, mildew-laden alehouse in the High Quarter. The tavern is located in the once-prosperous seaside city of Prymp, in the Kingdom of Ahlissa.

The only thing tying the adventurers together is an urgent summons, delivered individually, only days ago. The summons author sits among the group. He is a swarthy, well groomed man, dressed in black and red leather armor. Except for the armor and his accent, the man looks singularly out of place in this now-squalid city.


Note. Please post something about your characters as soon as you can. (either in the comments, or as a new post). I want to know what you guys are planning!

Portions of this adventure are modified from Dungeon #121. I have modified these a bit, and I express no ownership over these materials.

the adventure

So, I've got a quandary. The adventure I'm using is probably going to be too long for one session. How would you feel about two sessions? It would be 1/19 (sat) and 2/9 (sat). Theses dates are pretty inflexible. Does that work for everyone?

And, are you planning on playing? So far, I've got commitments from Degolar and Aerin, and a tenuous commitment from Leelu/Lummox. Kilminsk is out, and I'm assuming Hadrian is, too. What about Torias? Also, I'm thinking of inviting a new (to us) player.

Tell me what you think.

a bit of a tease.

A few things about the game. Hopefully you can all make it.

First, we'll be playing d+d 3.5 (big surprise).
Second, if you're making a new character, the party seems to have need of a healer-type.
Third. If you're making a new character, classes and races are restricted to those in the PH. Unless you've got a really good argument.
Fourth. Run your new character by me *before* the day of the game.

I'm hoping to post a little background in the next couple of days. But I can tell you that your characters will be in another part of the world, near Relmor Bay. And at least some of the adventure will take part in an urban setting.

Is this a dagger +1 I see before me?

Hot on the heels of Hadrian's teasing, I'd like to announce a game. It'll be at my place. Saturday, Jan 19. Greyhawk. We'll use your sidequesty characters from Highfolk. If you can't find, or don't want to continue your Highfolk characters, you can make a new character that's one level less powerful. Ask for more info.

I haven't decided which adventure we're going to be playing yet, but it'll be a one-time shot. Hopefully you can come!

I'm a Giant Tease

Because it's become apparent to me that there will not be a game anytime soon. Sorry about that. I'm a bit busier than I thought I would be... I just don't have the time to prepare. Besides, if I do get the chance to get to KC before classes start I'd rather just hang out than worry about getting a game together. (Though the odds aren't looking in favor of my getting there-- car trouble and cash flow issues...).

It's a soft P.

So, I was just doing a little bedtime reading, and it's got me all fired up about Hadrian's upcoming campaign. Hopefully we can still make a session or two happen in the coming days/weeks.

Game On

Well, the trend is towards Greyhawk. And in that vein, I've selected an adventure for Winter Break play. It's the Pathfinder series, portions of which, I believe,have appeared in Dragon-- so avoid reading any of those if you stumble upon them. While it is not Greyhawk per se, I think the campaign setting is very Greyhawk-y, which should satisfy everyone (I hope). For now, let's accomplish two things: 1. let's find out who is playing--if you want in, say so, and 2. let's throw around some preliminary possible dates (alternatively, what dates are absolutely out?)-- I'll figure out my schedule and contribute my thoughts on that (I would say that New Year's Eve is out since that would definitely take Cap'n Redbeard out of the mix).

Okay, maybe three things-- the third being rules, especially vis-a-vis character creation. At the moment I'm leaning towards allowing only the PHB and PHB II races and classes, but I'm open to discussion on this point. And let me know what you guys think about methods of character creation. Also, discuss what races and or classes you'd like to play, so we can plan to get a good party composition. I'll read the adventure and see if there is any certain party composition we need and get back to you.

(Of course, it goes without saying that the most important thing we need to figure out is when-- and where).

Pimping 4.0

Dungeons & Dragons sponsors Teen Tech Week 2008

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A worldwide pop culture phenomenon for more than 30 years, Dungeons & Dragons is a game played with books, paper, pencils and now your computer. . . .

The Poll

The poll I alluded to in the last post:

What kind of game should we play over Christmas?
	We shouldn't. I don't want to play.
	Forgotten Realms.
	Eberron.
	Good Ole Greyhawk.
	Something else entirely.
	This question doesn't apply to me. I don't game with you losers.
pollcode.com free polls

December Adventures

I need to do some practice DM'ing well before Ptolus gets underway. How would everyone feel about a one or two session game over the Christmas holidays? My schedule isn't set at this point (one week left of finals), but I'm planning on spending at least a few days in KC (possibly New Year's but that is still up in the air). I'm posting a poll at right to explore this further.

talisman!

Hey, nerds. Don't forget about Talisman tonight at the estimable Degolar's dwelling. 6:30 or so. Hopefully most of you can come!

Cheap Stuff!!!

It remains to be seen whether Fourth Edition will suck or not, but here's an early upside: Green Ronin's 3.5 fire sale.

Lummossey part deux

Lummox spun the tale for his children of how he and his band of brave and strange compatriots fought their way through the Temple of Water. Their eyes were full of wonder and delight.
"Is that where you met Mommy," one of them asked.
"No, son," Lummox grinned. "I met her a little bit later."
As he spun the tale of the defeat of Tharizdun, his mind wandered back to the times and travels that came after that great victory:
He and his band had become heroes, but not very many in this land knew of their struggle, and that was all to the better. The life of a ranger should not be complicated by fame. Unfortunately, he knew that the bard would make sure at least some knew the name of Lummox Fairheart, but what else can you expect from a bard. Lummox grinned at the thought of his musical friend and at the memory of his other friends. He wondered if he would ever see them again. He hoped he would.
It had been three days of travel since Verbobonc and so far it was a pretty uneventful trip. It seemed that even the wild creatures who lived in this area were calming after Tharizdun's defeat and he was not bothered by them while camping at night. The most excitement he had seen at all was the young rogue who had shared his fire last night. He was young and unfortunately, foolish. He was worse at picking pockets than Leelu. He had waited for Lummox to settle down for the night and took the first watch. The problem was, he didn't actually make sure the dwarf was sleeping before he tried to pilfer his packs. It wasn't much of a struggle and the knots held for the night. Unfortunately, the poor, thieving thing didn't get much sleep. Lummox released him in the morning and watched him as he disappeared down the road before packing up and taking flight again. But even that wasn't enough to get the dwarf's blood pumping again.
As he flew on, he wished for a real fight. Something he could let loose on. It was another day before he got his wish.
Flying low over a small wooded area, letting Fluffy hunt freely for something to eat, there was a loud scream of pain and rage. Lummox tugged at the reins and pulled the griffin towards the sound. As he neared a small break in the trees, he saw a form burst from the trees and run into the center of the clearing. It was a warrior decked in full armor, heaving a great sword, and wearing a face mask molded into a snarling face, filled with rage. The warrior was short, probably a dwarf as well. Lummox landed the griffin nearby and the warrior turned ready to fight. Lummox dismounted and drew his axe. It gleamed in the sunlight and seemed to take on a glow of it's own.
"Never turn your back on a fight, boy," Lummox shouted at the dwarven warrior as three large owlbears broke the tree line. The warrior turned and raised his sword, ready to spill some blood. Lummox loosed Fluffy's reigns and commanded her to attack the nearest owlbear as he headed for the largest of the group. The third cam directly for his fighting companion, cries of rage issuing from its throat. The warrior issues his own scream of rage, his voice high-pitched and cracking as he advance on the creature at a full run. With flash of sunlight from the shimmering blade held in his hands, he hacked into the shoulder of the owlbear and it shrieks in again and fell back. As it stumbled, the warrior spun and swung his leg at the beast and swept the feet from beneath it. With a thundering crash, the creature landed on it's back, which worked to my advantage, as it distracted the owlbear I was fighting long enough for me to catch him flat-footed. I struck with a lethal hit to the creatures skull and it fell, dead at my feet. Fluffy made short work of hers as well and was happily gnawing on the carcass. I turned to see if our new friend needed some assistance, but he had quickly dispatched the fallen creature and was wiping the blood from his blade.
I strode over to him and extended my hand.
"Good fight, friend. I am Lummox Fairheart."
"Laura," he said unstrapping his helmet.
"Laura? That's a woman's name. What kind of warrior is named Laura?"
As the helmet was removed, it revealed a face of gentle features supporting fierce and firey eyes. "It's not an unusual name for a woman warrior."
"But... but..." Lummox stammered. "You're a girl."
"And you have a short beard," she replied with a wry grin.

A Beautiful Place to Live

For many, the city of Verbobonc is an ideal place to live. A free town that answers to no higher lord. A center of commerce that is small enough to remain a close-knit community. A place of charm. Yet it also seems to be a magnet of evil. The Temple of Elemental Evil. The Cult of Tharizdun. Horrors yet unknown. After the most recent threat--Tharizdun--was eliminated, for instance, everyone was prepared to settle in for a period of peace and prosperity. Yet a new evil had already taken root in the bowels of the city. An alien evil. It tried to hide for a time, but eventually tendrils of its spreading foulness began to show. The city's leaders sent brave souls to investigate, but none were heard from again. Finally the master of the Silver Consortium himself was able to divine a name: Aerin. It turned out one of the champions who had defeated the Cult of Tharizdun had not escaped the enterprise untainted. Juelihm gathered the powerful personages of the city--Ingish Blackhand, the druid Reshaph, the bishop of the cathedral of Pelor, champions from the new church of St. Hadrian, Mia Dragonslayer--and headed into Aerin's foul lair to expell him from their fair city. He had dug himself in deep, and in the end it was the recalled hero Degolar who made the difference. Aerin was defeated, banished to the alien plane that had already seized his soul. And Verbobonc was once again free from evil. For now.

My friend Kenny is my newest buddy

I told him I was turning 30 this year and he said (without a pause or doubt):
"You're not getting old. You're leveling."

The Tale the Bard Tells

Torias was a mighty warrior who used powerful magics to make himself great in combat. He was a core member of the group that put down the latest resurgence of the cult of Tharizdun. Among his party members were two he came to love. One love was consumated, the other known only to him. He found he couldn't live without either. As long as they journeyed together with a purpose, all was well. Once they had defeated the cult, though, the party splintered. His secret love left to live the life of a wandering minstrel. Torias tried to console himself with the companionship of his lover, but was eventually overcome with longing for his secret love and his heart split in two. In a fit of grief and passion, he hung himself. And thus ended the tragedy that is the tale of Torias.

Toriasonomicon

I have stolen this title and will soon have content to go with it.

Moribund

I posted the lyrics to this song way back when we first started our Ravenloft campaign with the intention of bringing a recording to one of our sessions. Since that may not be happening, I'll instead share a couple of videos. The first is a poor machinima someone made to the original recording and the second a live performance. Enjoy.

The further adventures of Jeral, the were-bear

“Blessed and most radiant Pelor,” Jeral prayed, “please hear your servant.” He was kneeling, shivering and wet, at the bank of a stream. “You know that I have always done my best to bring your light to the darkness. You know that I have willingly become something inhuman to better fight evil in your name.” Moonlight glinted off the tears mingled with the cold water dripping from his tangled hair. “Please, please grant your servant this request: help me to see your holy servant, St. Hadrian, as nothing other than the deity he has become, and keep him out of my dreams!”

The mention of the dream brought the memory back to him. Hadrian’s wise eyes looking out from a strong face. His muscular frame evident as Jeral assisted him in removing his heavy armor. The cleft in his chin as he leaned forward, lips parted—

There was a brief cry of anguish and a splash as Jeral once again threw himself into the near-icy water.

International Man of Mystery

. . . and that’s how my companions and I saved the world from destruction at the hands of Tharizdun.

As I told you before, my goal in life is to find adventure. That’s how I went from being a free-spirited roamer to getting involved in that whole mess. I fell in with an interesting group in Hommlet, one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was committed to leading them in our quest to preserve creation. At one point I almost left in search of something new, but then I realized that commitment was an adventure I’d never tried. I decided to go all the way with it. My growing fame in Verbobonc brought attention with it and soon a mate. We had a house built and when I wasn’t away on our quest I did my best to become a respected and upstanding citizen in town. I even joined a local church.

That really was a gratifying experience, but it didn’t quench my thirst for new experiences. Many of the area nations were aware of our defeat of Tharizdun and offered us lands and titles as a reward. I had no more desire to be rooted to a single plot of land, however, but instead wanted as a reward access to the wide world. I was able to parley the offer into something more suited to my lifestyle. I now have diplomatic credentials with Perrenland, Furyondy, the Shield Lands, Veluna, Verbobonc, the County of Urnst, the Duchy of Urnst, Nyrond, the Ulek nation states, Keoland, Ket, Gran March, Geoff, Sterich, and Yeomanry. I am guaranteed free travel and the hospitality of the ruler of any large town, small city, large city, or metropolis for up to a month. Once that agreement was in place, it didn’t take long for me to pack my bags and head off in search of excitement.

But Istus, the dear girl, is not the traveling sort. She likes her creature comforts and needs a library and laboratory for her studies. When push came to shove, she chose staying behind over wandering with me. I was all ready to sell the house for traveling funds, but I couldn’t just kick her out in the street after everything we had shared. Instead, I decided to retain ownership of the property and leave it in her care. We remain in contact and I now have a place to stay should I ever need, but it has really become her place in effect. She works out of the laboratory, earning her living by crafting items to sell to area shops as requested. She also takes on boarders from the Silver Consortium and the area bardic community to stave off loneliness. It’s an arrangement that works well for both of us.

Istus is not the only one with new companions. I seem to attract followers wherever I go, and I have collected an assortment of performers and adventurers in my travels and am now the leader of a small troupe. We have been using my diplomatic credentials for lodging, but also perform wherever we go for the sake of legitimacy. I am pleased to say we always leave an impression and are gaining quite a reputation. I have never been content to simply be in the spotlight, though, for I am a curious sort and a collector of lore. I’m sure you understand, Thom, because you are the same. That is why I feel I am a good fit for membership in your Bramblewood Academy. I would learn from the lore you have amassed in your travels and gladly share my own. If you’ll have me, I will be your number one wanderer, gatherer, and performer, and will spread word of the academy throughout the nations. I am yet young and anticipate many interesting adventures before I am through.

Toriasonomicon

Don't actually have anything finished yet, just taking the referemce before anyone else.

The Lummossey

part 1

"Papa, tell us the story about how you beat the dragon again."
"Well," the dwarf said, leaning back in his chair, "it was not I alone that beat the dragon. Remember, I did have some help with that fight. And that was only a small part of the adventure."
As the story unwound, the dwarf though back on the days that had led him to this one.
He gazed upon his beautiful wife and grinned as the memories overtook him:

Aerin had brought them back to Verbobonc as soon as they were safely away from the carnage and destruction of the battle to keep Tharzidun locked in his prison.
The party had been through much, but as time wore on, each decided it was time to depart and go their separate ways.
After some rest in their home in Verbobonc and after bidding the city guard a fond farewell, he sought his companions to say his good-byes.
Kilminsk had disappeared the night they had returned, but Lummox had already given him his farewells as well as one of the hammerspheres.
Aerin was busy setting up "shop" in the city and had little time for the dwarf, but they parted with a handshake (that undulated strangely in Lummox's palm) and a little well-wishing. As the dwarf was walking away,Aerin called to him.
"I want that arm back, by the way." Lummox grinned.
"Over my dead body," he called back.
He was never sure, but he thought he heard Aerin mumble something like, "That can be arranged."
When he returned to the house, he found Degolar, wicked glint in his eyes as ever, standing in the doorway.
"You," Degolar said, grin in place, "look like a dwarf on a mission. I guess you'll be leaving us soon too?"
"I'm gonna miss you, you pervert," Lummox said with a wry grin. "We had some good times."
"Who knows," Degolar said mischievously, "we may again." They embraced and wished each other a farewell. That night, Lummox left a gift in the bard's room. It was a drum he had been making in secret out of the hide and bone of one of the mindflayers the bard had saved him from. Lummox would remember that day for the rest of his life. The bard, who he had always considered a bit of a deviant, had taken control of his mind to release the grip the mindflayer had taken. He could have kept control and could have had the dwarf as his slave, but instead, he freed him with no lingering effects. A new level of respect grew for the bard and their friendship had grown. Lummox just hoped the bard would like the gift and appreciate the sentiment behind it.

As he headed out to the stables to feed his pet griffin, Fluffy, he heard some rumblings from the hay loft. He moved closer to hear a little better and heard a silvery peel of laughter and the deep rumble of chuckling answer it. He picked up a pitch fork and pounded on the boards overhead.
"Hey, you two," he called up to Leelu and Torias, "get some damn clothes on and get down here." There was a long silence and then the pair broke into hysterical laughter. Lummox grinned wryly and headed off to tend to the griffin.
The first to appear was Torias, shirtless and sweaty. The deep scars that covered his skin was a sad reminder of the way they had found him in that damned place of evil and of what was done to him there. He stepped up next to Lummox and grabbed a grooming brush. They brushed away the dust and hay from the creature as she purred her delight. After some time,Leelu joined them in the barn. They finished grooming and feeding Fluffy and stepped into the yard. Lummox turned to Torias and smiled sadly.
"Lad," Lummox said, "you are a fine warrior. I wish you well in the future and hope for the best for you." He reached to the urgrosh on his back and presented it to the young man. "This is for you. It isn't much, but I want you to have it. It has served me well, as I hope it does you. Take care of yourself, or I will be forced to beat the tar out of you." They shook hands and then embraced for a short time.
He turned to Leelu, and for the briefest moment, his eyes glinted with tears. He blinked and they were gone.
"You, my dearest, I will miss the most. You have come a long way, not just in distance but from the scared, angry child you were. You have become a very brave and very noble lady, and I am proud to call you my friend. As much as I would like to stay and remain your companion on your journeys, I believe you have found a much more appropriate guide." He nodded and grinned at Torias . "I wanted to give you something special but could thing of nothing that could let you know how much you have meant to me. Nothing seemed right, and then it hit me. Can I borrow one of your knives?"
"What makes you think I am carrying one?"
"I have known you far too long for that." She must have seen something in his eyes, because she sighed and pulled a slim dagger from behind her (to Torias ' great surprise) and handed it to the dwarf. Lummox took the knife and looked at it for a moment then did the last thing anyone would have expected. He cut the hair of his beard above the symbol of Moradin until the bottom half of his beard was dangling from his fingers, the symbol of Moradin swinging back and forth. He handed the knife and the lock and symbol to Leelu, looking a little silly with such short whiskers.
"This is yours child. Remember me fondly."
Leelu knelt to hug him, but he stopped her and gently put his hands on the sides of her face and drew her near his. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and then pulled her into a warm hug that lasted quite a while. When they released one another, he patted her shoulder. "You keep the brat, over here..." motioning to Torias, "you keep him out of trouble."
He turned and walked into the house and then out the front door again into the streets of Verbobonc.

When he reached the temple of Pelor and asked to speak to Saint Hadrian, they looked at him as if he were something they had stepped in.
"You are out of luck, little 'friend,'" the closest priest said, "he was here only briefly and has left us for greater things." The two Pelorians turned there backs on the dwarf and continued their conversation. Lummox left and made a mental note to see if he could train his griffin to relieve himself in flight. He was not worried about seeing Hadrian today. He was sure their paths would cross again one of these days.
He decided that he would make one last stop before leaving. He headed to the gnomish district and sought out Mia, the dragon slayer. He found her resting on a door stoop and smoking a pipe.
"I didn't know you smoked."
"When the mood strikes me, you grumpy old dwarf." From anyone else, this would have been an insult, but from Mia, it was a great compliment.
"I brought you something." He grinned and produced a wand crafted of willow and presented it to Mia. "Now you don't have to cast dancing lights for a while. This will do it for you. Well, for 100 times at least."
"Cute," she said, with her tilted smile.
They exchanged their goodbyes and shook hands and as he walked away, a shower of lights pranced and twinkled around Lummox.

On his way out of the city, he looked over his shoulder and wondered how soon he would be back to the city that had encapsulated a large chunk of his life and how soon he would see the people who filled his heart. He turned forward again and urged Fluffy into flight and lifted away from the city and off into the wilderness on his search for the lost Saltheart clan.

to be continued...

Postscriptus Hadrianatus, Pt. I.

Geren heard the rider before he saw him, and didn’t bother to unsheathe his sword or get up from where he sat by the campfire. Neither did any member of his party. They were an experienced group of scouts and warriors, and knew they had little to fear from a single rider, even in this dangerous territory. In a moment, the lone horseman came into view and reined his horse to a stop at the edge of the firelight.

“Greetings friend,” said Geren, standing at last and walking towards the figure.

The man atop the horse pushed back the cowl of his black traveling cloak, and Geren caught just a glimpse of silver at the stranger’s throat as he did so.

“And greetings to you ranger. Is there space at your fireside for a weary traveler?”

“We’d be remiss to turn any away in this country, friend. Please, join us,” said Geren, gesturing towards the fire.

The young man dismounted, exchanging nods with each of the silent men around the campfire, and took a seat. The grizzled scouts sized him up in an instant, he was no threat to them, and they settled into an easy silence as Geren fetched a flagon of mead for the newcomer. The young man thanked Geren for it and drank deeply from the cup. For a moment he warmed his hands by the fire before speaking.

“Your fire is quite refreshing, gentlemen. It is a cold night, with barely a sliver of moon for company.”

Geren looked the young man up and down before responding. “The moon is precious little company in this land, lad. ‘Tis a dangerous road you’ve chosen to ride alone. I’d say you’re either a brave man or a fool to be in these parts without other men at your side.”

The young man laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough. But rarely do we choose our own road. Duty has brought me to this desolate land, and I have not the time to worry about the danger of it.”

“Very well,” responded Geren, “your business is none of mine. But guests are a rare occurrence around this campfire, and you seem like a good sort. You’re welcome to travel with us if you like, at least as far as the Velunan frontier. Trust me, young friend, you’ll be safer for it. This really is no place to be traveling alone.”

The stranger looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. “Thank you ranger, that is much appreciated, much appreciated. But now, gentlemen, I think it is best that you prepare yourselves, because you’re about to have a few more guests, and I hazard you won’t find them as pleasant company as myself.”

The scouts exchanged quick glances and moved their hands towards their sword hilts and bows.

“What do you mean?” asked Geren.

“It’s why I’m here, I’ve been tracking them… and I sense that they are near. Yes, very near. Look to the treeline!”

The scouts looked up the small slope on the north side of their campfire towards the edge of the forest. For a moment they saw nothing, but then they caught glimpses of movement here and there. An instant later a horrific sight met their eyes: lurching from the cover of the trees were the most hideous of abominations, clad in rags with only bits and pieces of rotting flesh clinging to their skeletal frames. In an instant the scouts were on their feet and loosing arrows at the advancing score of the undead. Still, the black clad stranger sat, unperturbed, staring into the fire.

Geren clasped a hand to the stranger’s shoulder urgently “Don’t just sit there, man, get up and fight!”

The young man smiled up at Geren and said “Oh, I intend to friend… it’s just I wanted to savor the moment.”

He rose, and pushed apart his cloak for the first time. Underneath, he wore a mithril breastplate, emblazoned with a symbol that Geren had not seen before: A full moon, inlaid with the shape of a lantern containing a tiny sun. On his left hip swung a small silver lantern which glowed with an ethereal blue light. On his right hip, he wore a heavy mace that sparked slightly as he rose. His garments were all black, with silver trim.

The young man turned away from the fire and walked briskly towards the advancing undead. Around him, the party of scouts continued to loose arrows into their ranks, but to little avail. He stopped, a large grin spreading across his face, raised his right hand and spoke a short incantation. A bluish white mist began to gather around his outstretched hand, glowing from within. The mist began to swirl rapidly and then coalesced into an orb in front of the young man’s raised palm. The orb became denser and appeared almost solid, in each fraction of a second growing brighter and brighter, until it exploded in a brilliant cone of the purest and brightest white light that Geren had ever seen. The skeletal forms advancing across the field disintegrated, screaming as the light reached them, and as soon as it had begun, it was over. The scouts lowered their bows and stared in astonishment as where seconds before twenty undead warriors had stood, now only clouds of dust hung in the air and fragments of bone littered the grass.

The young cleric looked around at the party and shrugged “It’s never quite as fun as you anticipate,” he said. “Still, one does one’s duty.” And without another word, he turned and walked back to the fire.

Tharizdun has come at last, Tharizdun can kiss my ass.

A snippet (strictly from the character)...

The strange adventure had at last come to an end, and the somewhat bewildered Dervish found himself sitting on a nice stone in Verbobonc, pondering recent events. He had, undoubtedly, played an integral role in the destruction of the Temple and the further imprisonment of the thing the rest called Tharizdun, and he had quickly parted ways with his companions. He considered them, briefly, as he had never really had human contact of that nature before. They called themselves a "group," and they were engaged in a "quest," and this entailed severe risks of extreme personal danger. The Dervish chuckled light-heartily at this, and thought, "So, this is what lunatics are like."

The woman, Leelu, had been the first to catch his attention, as she had one more hole than the others. Unfortunately for the Dervish, she only wanted them filled by the man Torias, and they didn't even let him join in or watch. Weirdos.

The Dervish had never been fond of the overtly short creatures, yet he felt differently about the Dwarve Lummox. The Dwarve had a beautiful, magical ring, filled with wonderment and excitement. It was surely one of the most tragic days in the history of the realm when this ring disappeared, never to be seen again. The world was safe from Tharizdun, but was the cost too much? The Dervish was never one to feel pity, but on that day he nearly shed tears for the poor Dwarve.

The bard, Degolar, while rarely visible enough to be easily judged, seemed a bit sexually repressed. Maybe, with a little work, he could come out of his shell. This can also be said of the man Hadrian, whose pious nature implied a singular interest in the male species, which the Dervish could never understand. Also, the Bard had a cat. Nice.

As for the final member of the party, Aerin, there was not much to be said. A more decent, stand-up citizen the Dervish had never met. He thought that surely, that one, would go on to accomplish great things.

The Dervish was shaken from his thoughts by a slight tingle. The fight was finished, yet he had not escaped unchanged. You see, in the scuffle, he had been "cursed." Any pain he dealt would return and travel through his own body. As the Dervish sat, a small squirrel skittered by; his arm shot out and his sickle pierced the small creature. A large grin grew across his face and, he thought, he liked it.

What An Awesome DM

Not only has he done an exceptional job of running a customized, creative campaign, he gave us this parting gift of individualized dice. Thank you, Scott.

the final cutscene

The party stood on the blasted yard, the Tower of Doomdreamers now reduced to a slag heap of softened metal. Lava bursts sprayed out from the sulfurous pools every few minutes. Hadrian was gone. Tharizdun's aspect was gone.

Hedrack and the cult of Tharizdun, the elemental Lord Imix, Lord Haxx, had all been defeated at the party's hands. A soft, glowing nimbus of light appeared, shimmering purest white. After a moment, the nimbus grew to a large oval and a female solar stepped out. She beckoned the party forward into the light, and they followed.

The party found themselves inside a grand white marble hall, a few figures standing as if waiting. Nerull and Beory stood near each other, in conversation with Boccob. Pelor and Rao were talking to a familiar figure, and Incabulous stood alone.

The deities turned to face the party as they entered. Hadrian, now with his own shimmering aura, stood with them. The gods applauded as the party walked toward them, coated in carbon, garments ripped and travel worn. Rao spoke, commending the party for their service, and asking that they return to Verbobonc to meet with Archbishop Hadrigus and the wizard Juelihm. The pair had temporarily taken charge of the city after the former Viscount, Langard, disappeared.

Congratulations, all. The campaign is mostly complete. Take a few days, or longer, and write up a few words about what your characters will do after their adventures together conclude. I'll be happy to make available whatever information you need or want to see. Some of you asked to see what the original campaign looked like before my modifications. I'll be happy to send you the files so you can take a look. A little will look familiar. Names, locations, overall plot. Thanks for letting me DM for the last 4 years. I had a great time.

endgame

I'm finishing preparations for the final session, as you could probably guess. It's been almost 4 years since we began toying with the idea of starting a game. Originally, I invited the players who would become Mia, Leelu, Degolar, Hadrian, Lummox, and Carleton to play. Carleton said he couldn't because he was about to have a baby (who's now almost 4).

We've picked up three additional players and lost one since we started. Mia Dragonslayer has left us, possibly forever. Kilminsk, Aerin Starkewood, and Torias have joined the ranks.

A few old emails I just unearthed: (*The names have been changed for anonymity's sake).

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Sat 11/8/2003 11:03 AM
Subject: RE: d&d

Personally, I was thinking of a half-elf assassin, but I'm flexible.

Leelu*




-----Original Message-----
Sent: Sat 11/8/2003 2:19 PM
Subject: RE: d&d

So I can't be the 23rd level three-headed giant sorcerer king?
Then I suppose I might want to be a half-elf bard, but I can be flexible if the party needs.




-----Original Message-----
Sent: Sat 11/8/2003 2:39 PM
Subject: RE: d&d

Lummox* says he'd like to be a dwarven fighter of some sort, so we're looking fairly balanced so far.

The story of the Crook of Rao, part two

Part one.

A few days later, Canon Hazen, a portly, normally jovial, priest in the service of Rao, was having troubled dreams. He slept fitfully, waking twice in the night. The first time, he attributed his restlessness to indigestion, and stumbled sleepily toward the privies. The second time, his vision was so clear and unmistakable he shot up in his bed, his mind roiling with the image of a silvery metal rod studded with gemstones, and what he had to do.

Hours passed. Hazen had recovered the Crook from its resting place in his cathedral’s reliquary and readied himself for travel. He set out with a group of companions, journeying overland from Veluna to the only known outpost of the Cult of Tharizdun. A secret temple near the town of Hommlet. Adventurers, knights, and church soldiers had been here only days before, ridding the town and the region of Tharizdun’s influence. “At least temporarily,” thought Hazen. The group delved deep into the underground temple and the Crook grew white-hot in his hand as Hazen brought it near Tharizdun’s altar.

A swirling ball of black-purple mist coalesced atop the altar, crackling and arcing with purple energy. Hazen, frightened, took a step backward. His unfortunate companion, another cleric, was standing a few steps closer than Hazen now, and was engulfed by the purple-black orb. Hazen, horrified, brandished the Crook unthinkingly at the swirling ball of energy, which seemed to hesitate. Inspiration struck Hazen, and he spoke a powerful malediction, invoking the names of the six deities who created the Crook. The misty ball seemed to condense, then a white corona surrounded it, intensifying in brightness until it completely surrounded the purple-black orb. Six seals popped into existence, each with a deity’s symbol upon it. The seals slowly began circling the now-white orb, gaining speed as they completed each orbit of the sphere, which now seemed to shrink slowly.

Hazen sank back, exhausted. He still held the Crook aloft, and the sphere with its whirling seals dimmed and faded from view, slowly growing more transparent.