Outside the door, a clash of metal on metal sounded. Unexpected, so soon. Satau hurried away from his experiment and went into a familiar trance-like state. His mind quickly relaxed as he scryed the passages outside of his chamber. Chymon was dead. A rabble of adventurers lurked around a corner as one of the purplecloak patrols played knucklebones casually.
A ball of orangish red, no larger than a grapefruit, zips into their midst. "Insteresting, they seem more than novices," Satau thought. Chaos erupted a few seconds later, with the patrol engulfed in flame.
"Enough of this, I have preparations to make," Satau thought. He quickly shut his study door, leaving his clone alone in the darkness. The clone would leap into action if he faced mortal peril, at least Satau hoped so. He tapped a clear crystal wand against his arm and said a command word, then disappeared into the darkness, waiting.
Congratulations on defeating the dragon and the mind flayers. I'm a little surprised no one died. I tried. At our current pace, I'm doubtful we can finish the campaign by May. So we'll have to step it up a little. Less non-game chatter will help.
It seemed like Leelu did a lot of the work early on, then Aerin, Degolar, and Torias did a lot late. I realize some of that's because Leelu and Lummox were stunned for most of the mind flayer combat. I'd like to see a little more out of Kilminsk, though.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on Saturday. What went well, what didn't. Dragons and Mind Flayers are probably some of the hardest bad guys to run, so please tell me how I can improve. And thanks to Torias for reminding me about mind blast.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007
This week on DM Kills Party.. I mean, D+D Session 53.
After selling loot in town, the party faces the black stone doors of the Outer Fane. Inside, they’ll discover the elite, if large, hairy and repellant, Purple-Cloaked Guards of Tharizdun, who can drop opponents in a single round from their greataxes; a deadly run-in with a dangerous outsider and his decorations; and an encounter even Smaug wouldn’t relish.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The future of gaming?
Is your favorite store going out of business?
In 2007, the market consists of three major categories, in order of volume & revenue: trading card games, miniatures games, and roleplaying games. In addition, the market now also has smaller, but still significant categories like “hobby” board & card games. The total size of the market is approximately $1 billion at retail. 30% of that revenue is generated through hobby game stores. That translates to a 300% increase in revenue in just over 15 years. At the same time, the number of stores has declined by about half. So the average retail store is now generating 600% more revenue in 2007 than it was in 1992.
And yet.... the retail tier is facing extinction. Their overhead costs have increased faster than their gross margins in absolute terms. Their inventory costs have skyrocketed. They face competition from e-commerce retailers who undercut their pricing power and erode their margins. The products have become vastly more complex, and the burden for product support has fallen on their shoulders, with impacts on staff costs, rent, merchandising, and the scarcest resource of all: time.
As a result, more stores continue to fail, further reducing the footprint of support available to the publishers. The largest publishers have escape routes into the mass market, into the book trade, into Europe, and elsewhere. The mid-tier publishers however have few options, and are being crippled by this slow dieoff. Small, niche publishers, who rely on catching lightning in a bottle to have a chance of success, are even worse off.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Selling loot.
Coldeven 24, 596CY. Verbobonc.
After several hours spent haggling prices at various shops in the city, you make your way over the Velverdyva Bridge and into Ryemend, to Degolar's Manse. You've emptied your bags of holding of most of the platinum and gold coins, depositing them in separate accounts at the Chapel of Zilchus in town.
Most of your day was spent at Jala's Weaponry and Smithy, the Archer's Eye, Segemm's Curios, the Silver Consortium, and a handful of other small shops and temples. For the most part, Degolar's charm was in fine form and you came out with the upper hand in many of the bargains. There was one piece which couldn't be sold, however. The longsword taken from the Marilith in the Undertemple. Jala couldn't afford to buy it right now, though she was interested. Sir Ingish's shop was still closed, and none of his neighbors knew when he would return from Highfolk. Ingish's manservant Rubrin said that he was on an expedition with a party of dwarves in somewhere in the Yatil Range.
After tallying your sales slips, you find that even without the sale of the longsword, you amassed 134203 gold, 8 silver. An even split would give each of your seven party members 19171 gold, 9 silver, 8 copper.
After several hours spent haggling prices at various shops in the city, you make your way over the Velverdyva Bridge and into Ryemend, to Degolar's Manse. You've emptied your bags of holding of most of the platinum and gold coins, depositing them in separate accounts at the Chapel of Zilchus in town.
Most of your day was spent at Jala's Weaponry and Smithy, the Archer's Eye, Segemm's Curios, the Silver Consortium, and a handful of other small shops and temples. For the most part, Degolar's charm was in fine form and you came out with the upper hand in many of the bargains. There was one piece which couldn't be sold, however. The longsword taken from the Marilith in the Undertemple. Jala couldn't afford to buy it right now, though she was interested. Sir Ingish's shop was still closed, and none of his neighbors knew when he would return from Highfolk. Ingish's manservant Rubrin said that he was on an expedition with a party of dwarves in somewhere in the Yatil Range.
After tallying your sales slips, you find that even without the sale of the longsword, you amassed 134203 gold, 8 silver. An even split would give each of your seven party members 19171 gold, 9 silver, 8 copper.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Crazy Wizard
I've been meaning to ask this for a while now, but I keep forgetting. Can someone tell me more about Aerin and his back story, at least as much as the party knows? I don't know as much about his character as I do the others.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Saturday, January 06, 2007
The History and Coming of Chymon
A few pages recovered from the library of Thukos, the third. The passage is called the History and Coming of Chymon.
The clutch of Caran’lachnar yielded two eggs. The wyrmlings were grey and red. The grey wyrm gained prestige early, allying himself first with the far-off Iron League (a league of dwarven clans).
The red, however, had no interest in the affairs of demihumans. She was content to exploit and connive her way to great riches and power. She made her home in the heights of the Lortmils. At the time of the Battle of Emridy Meadows, Chymon was involved in some sort of intrigue on the side of the Great Kingdom (of Aerdy), which was quickly dissolving. She entered battle late in the day and set upon a column of dwarven soldiers, quickly decimating most of them. A grey dragon then winged into the fray. The grey and red battled in a spectacular aerial melee, but Chymon seemed too much of a match for the grey. Below, all of the dwarves had perished or lay dying. One still stirred, not as gravely wounded as the others. He took up his magic spear, enchanted with arcane ice from the frigid Yatil Range and hurled the spear into Chymon’s wing, tearing a hole through the thin membrane. Chymon roared in pain and rage, then broke off combat, winging southwest across the Emridy Plain. As she flew, she dove downward toward battle once more, screeching and breathing a fiery burst. She grabbed an armored knight in her wicked claws and again rose into the sky.
The dwarf, who turned out to be an emissary of Furyondy, lay exhausted on the ground, and the silver dragon stayed by his side until the close of the battle. The dragon owed a life-debt to the legate from Furyondy, but the legate would not hear of it, feeling that the dragon had saved his own life.
For many years, the emissary and the dragon lived a peaceful life of friendship, a great bond had been forged that day on the Emridy Plain. One fateful day, the legate called on the silver dragon in dire need. An evil cult had broken into the legate’s clan home in the Kron Hills. The clan had to flee, leaving their greatest treasure behind. A large gem of incalculable worth, called the Eye of Tulian. The emissary beseeched the dragon to recover the gem, or, failing that, to guard it until a Saltheart Clan dwarf came to reclaim the halls.
Chymon lived and breathed revenge. She loathed her brother, and dwarves, for driving her from combat. She sought out the enemies of these dwarves and found them in the Cult of Tharizdun. She offered her armored prisoner, (who turned out to be the Crown Prince of Furyondy, Thrommel III.) in exchange for information about these dwarves and her brother. She quickly relocated her lair to the Kron Hills, inside a dormant volcano.
The clutch of Caran’lachnar yielded two eggs. The wyrmlings were grey and red. The grey wyrm gained prestige early, allying himself first with the far-off Iron League (a league of dwarven clans).
The red, however, had no interest in the affairs of demihumans. She was content to exploit and connive her way to great riches and power. She made her home in the heights of the Lortmils. At the time of the Battle of Emridy Meadows, Chymon was involved in some sort of intrigue on the side of the Great Kingdom (of Aerdy), which was quickly dissolving. She entered battle late in the day and set upon a column of dwarven soldiers, quickly decimating most of them. A grey dragon then winged into the fray. The grey and red battled in a spectacular aerial melee, but Chymon seemed too much of a match for the grey. Below, all of the dwarves had perished or lay dying. One still stirred, not as gravely wounded as the others. He took up his magic spear, enchanted with arcane ice from the frigid Yatil Range and hurled the spear into Chymon’s wing, tearing a hole through the thin membrane. Chymon roared in pain and rage, then broke off combat, winging southwest across the Emridy Plain. As she flew, she dove downward toward battle once more, screeching and breathing a fiery burst. She grabbed an armored knight in her wicked claws and again rose into the sky.
The dwarf, who turned out to be an emissary of Furyondy, lay exhausted on the ground, and the silver dragon stayed by his side until the close of the battle. The dragon owed a life-debt to the legate from Furyondy, but the legate would not hear of it, feeling that the dragon had saved his own life.
For many years, the emissary and the dragon lived a peaceful life of friendship, a great bond had been forged that day on the Emridy Plain. One fateful day, the legate called on the silver dragon in dire need. An evil cult had broken into the legate’s clan home in the Kron Hills. The clan had to flee, leaving their greatest treasure behind. A large gem of incalculable worth, called the Eye of Tulian. The emissary beseeched the dragon to recover the gem, or, failing that, to guard it until a Saltheart Clan dwarf came to reclaim the halls.
Chymon lived and breathed revenge. She loathed her brother, and dwarves, for driving her from combat. She sought out the enemies of these dwarves and found them in the Cult of Tharizdun. She offered her armored prisoner, (who turned out to be the Crown Prince of Furyondy, Thrommel III.) in exchange for information about these dwarves and her brother. She quickly relocated her lair to the Kron Hills, inside a dormant volcano.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The Midnight Book
I've been working on those spell descriptions, from the Midnight Book. They're in ad+d format, so I'm converting as I go. There's bard spells, wizard spells and cleric spells. I'll send them out to Degolar when I'm done. So if you want to peek at the grimoire, ask him.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Kilminsk Bearfucker, Son of Bitch.
The ranger, ever perceptive, knew that something strange was going on between two of his new "friends." Something... dirty. His mind, being fully disturbed, could not accept this as any normal half-elf's would. Their actions gave him odd needs and desires -especially those of the woman. His perception of her was the worst, perhaps, and he grew jealous. He would stand quietly and watch her, ever closer, wishing that he had the parts that she did.
*Just so you all know, Gobula is absolutely nothing like Kilminsk. That boy just ain't right. Seriously, is there some kind of mental institution in the Greyhawk world? He should not be allowed near the general public.
*Just so you all know, Gobula is absolutely nothing like Kilminsk. That boy just ain't right. Seriously, is there some kind of mental institution in the Greyhawk world? He should not be allowed near the general public.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Seriously, what does everyone want?
Personally, I'd like a space hooker. But I could make do with the Complete Warrior or something random and creative.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Leveling
Degolar gets his first 6th level spell now. He only gets one, and he can cast it twice daily. I'm looking through the list and trying to decide what single spell is most likely to be useful on a daily basis. Here are some of the options I'm considering, but I'm open to suggestions and recommendations. What does the party think?
Mass Charm Monster
Disintegrate
Chasing Perfection
Summon Monster VI
Greater Dispel Magic
Geas/Quest
Prismatic Eye
Mass Charm Monster
Disintegrate
Chasing Perfection
Summon Monster VI
Greater Dispel Magic
Geas/Quest
Prismatic Eye
Friday, December 15, 2006
a note uncovered.
This note was found in a burnt-out house within the borders of Perrenland, in the Sepia Uplands during the travels of a wandering priest of Pelor. It was entrusted to Qaan’apar Kher, Bishop at the Shrine of Pelor at Eru-Tovar, at the mouth of the River Black. The priest Hadrian uncovered record of it and had a copy made, then the copy was sent from Eru-Tovar to Verbobonc.
581 CY – Coldeven 18. A few weeks ago, on my travels through Highfolk, I was taking my ease in the Blackslate Tavern. A young man asked to sit at my table. My old ring went cold when he sat down. A strong feeling of malice and hate almost oozed from him. He must have known my history then, for he greeted me in the way of the Cult of Tharizdun. I recognized the gestures he made but I didn’t repeat them. Not as I once would have.
The man called me by name and asked what I knew of raising a champion. I feigned ignorance, but he didn’t believe me. He was powerful then, more powerful than me at that age, when I was a Doomdreamer, and he would have been high in Tharizdun’s favor.
He seized my mind then, when I wouldn’t willingly give an answer, and I couldn’t keep him from the information. My vision swam. I remember hearing someone scream, then I woke up a while later, my face soaked in beer and sweat. I knew he had the information he needed though.
I have no idea if the one who invaded my mind is going to raise an avatar of Tharizdun, but I fear that he could collect the necessary components to do so. I was behind the creation of the last avatar, so thankfully defeated in the battle of Emridy Meadows, I realize that now, and thievillain knew somehow of my involvement.
After a time, some memory of this night returned to me. I believe that he unknowingly implanted a part of himself in my mind when he took my memories. In my nightmares I see a monstrous dragon’s head, severed, a cold body of a man, and the precious stone which we took long ago after the banishment of the dwarves from their home south of Verbobonc in the Kron Hills. True, one of their number reclaimed it, a Saltheart Lord, but the damage was done by that point. These components could be able to be used, in concert with a few others, easily obtained, to raise a new avatar of Tharizdun.
I feel that I must impart the weakness of the last avatar to give any chance of stopping a future menace. Avatars are susceptible to magic, but rarely do the weapons of hand combat affect them. This is not to say that magic will always penetrate their defenses. An avatar can weaken you with a touch and people are easily cowed by the presence of one so mighty and godlike.
Varachan, of Perrenland.
581 CY – Coldeven 18. A few weeks ago, on my travels through Highfolk, I was taking my ease in the Blackslate Tavern. A young man asked to sit at my table. My old ring went cold when he sat down. A strong feeling of malice and hate almost oozed from him. He must have known my history then, for he greeted me in the way of the Cult of Tharizdun. I recognized the gestures he made but I didn’t repeat them. Not as I once would have.
The man called me by name and asked what I knew of raising a champion. I feigned ignorance, but he didn’t believe me. He was powerful then, more powerful than me at that age, when I was a Doomdreamer, and he would have been high in Tharizdun’s favor.
He seized my mind then, when I wouldn’t willingly give an answer, and I couldn’t keep him from the information. My vision swam. I remember hearing someone scream, then I woke up a while later, my face soaked in beer and sweat. I knew he had the information he needed though.
I have no idea if the one who invaded my mind is going to raise an avatar of Tharizdun, but I fear that he could collect the necessary components to do so. I was behind the creation of the last avatar, so thankfully defeated in the battle of Emridy Meadows, I realize that now, and thievillain knew somehow of my involvement.
After a time, some memory of this night returned to me. I believe that he unknowingly implanted a part of himself in my mind when he took my memories. In my nightmares I see a monstrous dragon’s head, severed, a cold body of a man, and the precious stone which we took long ago after the banishment of the dwarves from their home south of Verbobonc in the Kron Hills. True, one of their number reclaimed it, a Saltheart Lord, but the damage was done by that point. These components could be able to be used, in concert with a few others, easily obtained, to raise a new avatar of Tharizdun.
I feel that I must impart the weakness of the last avatar to give any chance of stopping a future menace. Avatars are susceptible to magic, but rarely do the weapons of hand combat affect them. This is not to say that magic will always penetrate their defenses. An avatar can weaken you with a touch and people are easily cowed by the presence of one so mighty and godlike.
Varachan, of Perrenland.
Friday, December 08, 2006
M - For Your Eyes Only
Agent Quickshade reporting from the field.
I proceeded from Falcons Crest along the Old Svalich Road to scout for potential business opportunities as assigned. Unfortunately, it appears the area's reputation has been effective in keeping it relatively cleared out. There were few travelers and almost no commerce on the road. My first night, I stopped at the Weary Horse Inn. I was preparing to pilfer at least a few pouches when a messenger from the Burgermeister of a village further down the road burst into the common room. He begged for assistance and a few of my marks volunteered to help, so I threw my lot in with them. We were warned the woods are unsafe at night and all needed a rest anyway, so we waited until the morning to depart.
We traveled all day, finally arriving at Borovia in the late afternoon. Unfortunately, it looks like the call for help was genuine and we may be too late to help--all of the residents we've encountered to this point have become brainless undead. They are easy enough to dispatch, but they may point to a greater evil in the area. At least one of my companions is a righteous crusader who will not rest until we find the answer to that question and eliminate it. I'm not sure if the others are similarly driven or are simply opportunists hoping for riches, but it looks like we're all in this for better or worse. I'll try to report with more complete information soon, and in the meantime try to have some fun with the adventure of it. All for the glory of the Caravan, of course.
(And my one attempt at finding gain within my companions' pockets just produced worthless junk, but I'll keep trying so as not to return empty-handed.)
-------------------------
(That's right, his name is 'ban. O-ban. And he's licensed to kill.)
I proceeded from Falcons Crest along the Old Svalich Road to scout for potential business opportunities as assigned. Unfortunately, it appears the area's reputation has been effective in keeping it relatively cleared out. There were few travelers and almost no commerce on the road. My first night, I stopped at the Weary Horse Inn. I was preparing to pilfer at least a few pouches when a messenger from the Burgermeister of a village further down the road burst into the common room. He begged for assistance and a few of my marks volunteered to help, so I threw my lot in with them. We were warned the woods are unsafe at night and all needed a rest anyway, so we waited until the morning to depart.
We traveled all day, finally arriving at Borovia in the late afternoon. Unfortunately, it looks like the call for help was genuine and we may be too late to help--all of the residents we've encountered to this point have become brainless undead. They are easy enough to dispatch, but they may point to a greater evil in the area. At least one of my companions is a righteous crusader who will not rest until we find the answer to that question and eliminate it. I'm not sure if the others are similarly driven or are simply opportunists hoping for riches, but it looks like we're all in this for better or worse. I'll try to report with more complete information soon, and in the meantime try to have some fun with the adventure of it. All for the glory of the Caravan, of course.
(And my one attempt at finding gain within my companions' pockets just produced worthless junk, but I'll keep trying so as not to return empty-handed.)
-------------------------
(That's right, his name is 'ban. O-ban. And he's licensed to kill.)
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
and then what?
You guys might start thinking of what you want to happen to your characters at the campaign. Are they going to retire to a farm and raise sheep? Start their own adventurers guild? Buy an inn and retire? Sainthood? An eternal unlife in the abyss? Let me know and I'll see if I can make them live happily ever after. If, of course, they survive the next few sessions. *glares at ... (rolls a d6) ... Degolar.*
Oh, and feel free to email them to me. You don't have to post them here if you don't want to.
Oh, and feel free to email them to me. You don't have to post them here if you don't want to.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Anyone Make a Bardic Knowledge Check?
Too bad we don't have Degolar or another bard with us on Tiger's Ravenloft campaign. He or she might be familiar with the following song, which seems to have some similarities to our current situation.
Moribund The Burgermeister
Caught in the chaos in the market square
I don’t know what, I don’t know why, but something’s wrong down there
Their bodies twistin’ and turnin’ in a thousand ways
The eyes all rollin’ round and round into a distant gaze
Ah, look at that crowd!
Some are jumping up in the air - say “We’re drowning in a torrent of blood!”
Others going down on their knees, seen a saviour coming out of the mud
Oh Mother! It’s eating out my soul
Destroying law and order, I’m gonna lose control
What can I do to stop this plague, spread by sight alone
Just a glimpse and then a quiver, then they shiver to the bone
Ah, look at them go!
Bunderschaft, you are going daft? Better seal off the castle grounds
“This is Moribund, the Burgermeister, I’m gonna keep this monster down,
Somebody sent the subversive element; going to chase it out of down.”
No-one will tell what all this is about
But I will find out.
I will find out. I will find out.
This thing’s really outrageous, I tell you on the level
It’s really so contagious must be the work of the devil
You better go now, pick up the pipers, tell them to play
Seems the music keeps them quiet, there is no other way.
Ah, close the doors!
“We’ve tried potions and waxen dolls, but none of us could find any cures,”
Mother please, is it just a disease, that has them breaking all my laws,
Check if you can disconnect the effect and I’ll go after the cause
No-one will tell what this is all about
But I will find out
I will.
Moribund The Burgermeister
Caught in the chaos in the market square
I don’t know what, I don’t know why, but something’s wrong down there
Their bodies twistin’ and turnin’ in a thousand ways
The eyes all rollin’ round and round into a distant gaze
Ah, look at that crowd!
Some are jumping up in the air - say “We’re drowning in a torrent of blood!”
Others going down on their knees, seen a saviour coming out of the mud
Oh Mother! It’s eating out my soul
Destroying law and order, I’m gonna lose control
What can I do to stop this plague, spread by sight alone
Just a glimpse and then a quiver, then they shiver to the bone
Ah, look at them go!
Bunderschaft, you are going daft? Better seal off the castle grounds
“This is Moribund, the Burgermeister, I’m gonna keep this monster down,
Somebody sent the subversive element; going to chase it out of down.”
No-one will tell what all this is about
But I will find out.
I will find out. I will find out.
This thing’s really outrageous, I tell you on the level
It’s really so contagious must be the work of the devil
You better go now, pick up the pipers, tell them to play
Seems the music keeps them quiet, there is no other way.
Ah, close the doors!
“We’ve tried potions and waxen dolls, but none of us could find any cures,”
Mother please, is it just a disease, that has them breaking all my laws,
Check if you can disconnect the effect and I’ll go after the cause
No-one will tell what this is all about
But I will find out
I will.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Not for the young peoples
Ok, so I decided to randomly search for things on blogger, and I did a search for my sis, kiki . So I'm looking through the things, and I become a bit curious about one of the things that was found. Well, I had a look and found something that should not be.
Naaran Anaraan
"Oh, my dear child, you've done quite well for a halfling, but you really must learn some fashion sense. Those colors are completely unflattering for you, and we don't even want to get into your hair!" Tossing back silken silver hair, Naaran's warm violet eyes with their first faint signs of wrinkles regard you with goodwill. "Don't fear, dear, we're here to help."
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
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