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Post by warlord476 on May 20, 2016 16:34:28 GMT -5
Ikkutas, legendary realm of mountain Dwarves, lives on in tales passed down from one Dwarf generation to the next. Greedy tales, gloating tales. But the exact whereabouts of Ikkutas is lost. Supposedly, it was hewn from the mountains at the far end of the Vale.
This campaign uses deluxe Tunnels & Trolls edition. T&T’s 5th or ‘classic’ edition introduced me to roleplaying and I backed the KS for a deluxe edition.
The deluxe edition includes a plethora of options that a GM can choose to include or not. I am including Talents and Specialists but they are my own mashup of the options on offer. Changing the rules to suit is a proud T&T tradition.
All characters are Dwarf. Dwarf characters hailing from Esgaroth are allowed to have and develop backgrounds as talents, which work somewhat in the manner of H+I or BoL careers, though not anywhere near as core to tests. To prevent unnecessary complication, non-Esgaroth Dwarves do not develop talents.
The world
The Vale is a long shallow river-vale, occupied by humans who live in late-Medieval-to-early-Renaissance-era style towns and villages. It has the kind of cool temperate climate found in Renaissance Europe. The people are collectively known as Nandil. A number of unique cultures, including demihuman, can be found tucked around this dominant Nandil Vale culture.
Religion
Gods of the Vale are non-interventionist. Humans of the Nandil culture may worship a range of gods, none of them requiring enormous amounts of time and money. Some localities will seem monotheistic, most will not. Both Dwarf and Vale cultures have Priests but Priest is not a character class. Prayers to gods are going to be background ‘flavour’ for your own character, not things that actually help you.
Equipment and technology
As hinted above the Vale is roughly at the early Renaissance level of technology, give or take a bit of magic. Gunnes dish out a lot of damage but your reliable old axe will still be dishing it out after the gunne has exploded or run out of ammo. Gunnes are uncommon enough for heavy armour to be worth wanting.
Superior equipment, and inferior equipment, are both things. You might begin with shoddy gear that falls apart after a few days, and with cheap weapons that don't do as well in combat as similar but better gear. Keep an eye and ear out for reputable artisans who turn out superior gear.
Multipliers Esgaroth-based Dwarf: STRx2 IQx1 LKx0.75 SPDx0.75 CONx2 DEXx1 CHAx0.67 WIZx1 Heighxt0.67 Weightx1
Other Dwarf: STRx2 IQx1 LKx1 SPDx0.67 CONx2 DEXx1 CHAx0.75 WIZx1 Heightx0.67 Weightx0.75
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Post by warlord476 on May 20, 2016 16:37:03 GMT -5
TI: Characters for session 1
To assist or speed up, I pre-generated six backgrounds from Character Webs, and two were used in the event. For the other Esgaroth Dwarf we rolled from Character Webs at the table. Because Esgaroth and the Vale are analogous to fantasy-early-Renaissance, most backgrounds match a WFRPG2e background which allowed trappings to be simply dropped in. This short-cut became a crucial pivot in what the first session’s game would be like.
The cast of characters, following a short rollup where everyone tried a couple of times and opted for the least-bad result:
Fennec, wandering hedge-wizard: Wizards get all 1st-level spells by right. Fennec’s Intelligence (IQ) is only sufficient for Level 1 spells and his Wizardry (WIZ) of 9 permits only a few of those to be cast at one time. His combat adds are 13 and he begins at Level 2 based on highest attribute, Strength (STR).
Jotunn, outcast hunter: Jotunn rolled a specialist talent on CON and had the stats to be a Wizard so it was hard to assign him a Type. By rolling on CON-based backgrounds we came up with a solution. He is an outcast of the city Dwarf community who became a Ranger. At present the exact benefits and limitations of this talent are unfixed. His combat adds are 13 and Jotunn begins at Level 5 based on his CON. Jotunn knows Fennec.
Cauleigh, impoverished Burgher’s son: Warriors are able to add their level in extra dice in melee and get double effect from armour. Cauleigh’s Charisma (CHR), 9, marks him as the party Face. His combat adds are 13 and he begins at Level 3 based on his best attribute, Constitution (CON).
Grom, ne’er-do-well scribe: Rogues have no great ability but can use both weaponry and magic. They also get a bonus talent or background, something I forgot and the player didn’t notice, and will need to cover next session. Grom is ‘challenging’ to play as he is a Level 1. His combat adds are 2. Grom and Cauleigh know one another having been schooled together.
The campaign is designed to be run with an absolute minimum of GM prep. I have a number of aids of one kind or another, especially Village Backdrops, and hope to go into each session with very little noted in advance.
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Post by warlord476 on May 20, 2016 16:56:32 GMT -5
Session 1: A broomstick to Tigley
Act 1 scene 1 We open our first act in a courtyard below the high walls of Clan Anvilbreast. Cauleigh, impoverished Burgher’s son, sweeps the courtyard. To eke out a living he tutors fair Goneril of Anvilbreast and his feelings, as he glances to her high window, are less than platonic.
Children are playing and throwing things nearby and this interferes with the clean state Cauleigh has just got the place to. He attempts to chivvy them away, and as they are Dwarf children uses threats such as ‘I know your mum’. But nearby, a work gang is toiling over something that smells disgusting, and the children retreat no further than that supply of ammo!
Grom, a ragged ne’er-do-well whose parents lost their reputation as military engineers in the late wars, slouches into the courtyard. Grom lends Cauleigh a hand, and between the two of them they convince the kids to run away and not splatter them. The two exchange commiserations about their lack of funds.
Out by the work gang, two other Dwarves hurry by. Curious that he knows neither, Grom decides to follow and Cauleigh stops to bid a fond farewell to Goneril’s high-vaulting... something - but an Anvilbreast Arbalest-brother begins cranking his arbalest so Cauleigh moves on – to destiny!
Act 1 scene 2 We are introduced to the newcomers as they are delayed by a Guild procession. Ragged Jotunn lost his parents young, and after getting his schooling in a poor outlying village became a ranger, a most unusual career for a Dwarf. He carries a bowstock and a brace of conies. He’s assured his tatty acquaintance Fennec, a wandering hedge-wizard, that they can get a meal and something besides for the skins.
Impatient at the delay – the conies and skins might just stretch to four hungry Dwarves – Cauleigh suggests they cut through the Cloth and Leather sectors. It works, though there is a near scrape when a priest of some seagoing god runs a frigid eye over them.
This short-cut gets the quartet around the Market which is usually a good thing to avoid. Especially for Dwarves with no gelt. They cut nippily across Coast Way and into the Flesher Yards. And there, things take a nasty turn.
It’s time for our ranger to try to find a curry brother or butcher that actually wants to buy rabbits or rabbit-skin. Not so easy. Being a kindly GM I still ask for a normal Level 1 Luck Saving Roll (L1 LK SR). Jotunn fails.
Act 1 scene 3 Time draws out and as the day grows longer some butcher ‘prentices decide to confront our heroes.
Combat in a city lane Cauleigh sums up the situation and as an experienced warrior, leaps into action with a casual word and a punch to the gut. He rolls 2d6 as a Dwarf plus 3d6 for his level as a warrior. 5d6 plus his combat adds of 13.
Jotunn hands Fennec his rabbits and wades in gamely with his bowstock, but Grom holds back, slipping a knife out of his belt and watching for a chance to sneak around and hamstring someone. I ask an SR on Speed (SPD) from Grom, who fails. He will not be out of range of any damage.
The apprentices each have a MR of 15 and there are five, for a total of MR 75. In total the GM rolls 8d6 (MR/10, plus 1) and adds half the MR as adds, so 37.
Meanwhile Fennec cunningly throws an Oh Go Away at one apprentice – he turns tail and flees! But Fennec only decided on this tactic once the fight began, so all fire prentices are counted in round one.
The warrior and ranger’s effects are totalled and the Dwarves are beaten convincingly. They share 20 damage around. If they had armour, that would be nothing.
The tussle goes to a second round, and a couple of things happen:
The fleeing prentice reduces his side’s fighting ability; Nearby stallholders begin to shout at the prentices
The Dwarves survive the second round, achieving a draw as Grom chips in with his own fists. Both sides share ‘spite damage’ which occurs when a 6 is rolled – a single point comes off the other side regardless of armour.
Then the prentices retreat.
Sadly Fennec has taken damage and the conies have been trampled into the muck of the Flesher Yards’ lanes.
“Bring ‘em back to my sister’s – we’ll skin them and get a meal, at least,” Cauleigh urges.
As they slog back tiredly Jotunn briefs Fennec on using magic in the city and confirms he was wise to use non-lethal magic. Fennec's WIZ, depleted by casting the spell, will recover over the next tens of minutes. Since it was all fisticuffs the damage taken in the fight will also recover fairly quickly.
Act 2 scene 1 This scene brings out the four characters’ reason for seeking Ikkutas. It is a requirement of the campaign. I have to say some reasons are weak. By an odd circumstance Fennec the outlander has the strongest motive. His background sets himself as an orphan who was raised by his hermit-wizard grandfather. In the dusty tomes of the retreat Fennec read about ancient Ikkutas and has arrived intent on finding it.
The others basically fall into line behind the idea. They all need money and being broke away from Esgaroth is cheaper than being broke in Esgaroth. So much for ‘inspired by takes of ancient Dwarven glory!’
But in order to mount any non-idiotic attempt, all except Fennec need some equipment.
I push an adventure hook out to Jotunn at this point. There are many options but his background as an orphan makes Raging Swan Press's Village Backdrop: Tigley a good one.
“Come to think of it, I did hear that my old orphanage is in trouble. And there was something about hunting goblins for money, too. At the time I thought nah, not a one-Dwarf job but with four of us…”
“Where’s your orphanage then?”
“Tigley’s out south-east, in the marsh.”
It is time to gather their belongings – a very easy task since they own very little – and hit the road. Cauleigh wrenches the straws off his broom and is thus equipped with a mighty light staff, 2d6 in combat. Grom begs Cauleigh’s sister for anything heftier than a knife. She warns him it’s a girly weapon and loans him her distaff. 2d6 plus shame for using it.
It is night, a good time for attempting to leave the city without attracting attention or taxes. There are at least two options.
“Let’s try the tunnels under the ghetto first,” they decide. “If we get it right we can slip out beyond the new wall.”
Act 2 scene 2 The descent is simple enough. There are two Dwarf ghettoes in Esgaroth, and there’s no reason to think that Cauleigh lives in the oldest, more enclosed one. They head to the tunnel defenders.
And a CHR SR sends them back, unsuccessful.
“That leaves us with the Coast Way, it would be silly to head out the Dwarf Way then have to walk right round.”
“So three options. We can try the debateable land out by New Wall and that’s an unknown. We can try along Old Wall, pass above all the hovels and get straight to Coast Way near where we were earlier today; or we could just walk the same way we went today and keep heading out.”
The quartet is a democracy so far – although Cauleigh’s opinions and gabbiness tend to give his vote a bit more weight – and they vote for Wall Street.
Act 2 scene 3 Night on Wall Street (it’s an ancient wall, which is just used as an elevated street now) can be very quiet, but at this stage I draw a couple of Urban cards to see if anything really happens.
Some type of magic ceremony is heard and seen off in a grove south of Wall Street. I’m interested to see if Jotunn will explore his magical heritage. He doesn’t but complains after the game that he has no idea what his magic is.
I also draw a roadblock, literally.
“Hey – where’s the street gone?”
“Oh, I remember now – this is the new aqueduct. They cut it through here.”
“But this is a lucky break! We can just follow it south!”
And so they do. Unremarked by anyone except a work crew, who pay no attention. But the aqueduct ends at a pumping-house and they don’t have the skills to go further. They clamber down and find themselves at the gate on Coast Way.
How lucky are they? With luck the guards will be a Uruk or a Hobb that just doesn’t care who’s leaving and why. I ask for LK SRs all round. Grom comes through, making L1.
“What kind of guard would you prefer?” I ask. Grom opts for a Hobb. Since he only made L1 there’s one Hobb, and one human.
The Dwarves roleplay successfully, the human suggests they consider a career in the city guard – “we have low standards” – and the Hobb seems to quite like the idea of helping orphans for cash. They head out with a 10 Adventure Point (AP) bonus for navigating past a potential problem.
I remind my players of my AP policy. You get AP for SRs and for avoiding trouble. No AP for combat. This campaign is not combat-oriented.
Act 3 scene 1 A marsh. The Dwarves can see Tigley’s landmark rock – it’s built on it, above the wetlands around it – but can’t see a way of getting across the stream to the village.
“Let’s try further south,” someone opines hopefully.
At this stage the ranger takes over. He lived here, and all he has to do is find a likely ford…
Dawn finds four muddy freezing Dwarves (with 5 damage off CON each) still stranded on the wrong side of the stream. But in the light of day the ranger decides on his Talent. Tracking is one of the tight-focus talents that are possible. It’s an obvious one for a ranger too.
He immediately spots boar tracks…
“And hey, goblin tracks!”
A hard slog back north and the tired, hungry Dwarves are looking over the broad stream, where a couple of lads are fishing in coracles, to the slope leading to the village. They bargain – leaning heavily on the ‘here to help’ angle – and the lads agree to take them across on tick and be paid later. They owe the debt to Fit Rogar’s son.
Act 3 scene 2 It has been many years since Jotunn played around the Stone’s Throw with fellow orphans. He remembers a Father Isaak visiting and Ella being Matron. But being human, both have probably passed on by now.
The four drag themselves up the steep granite slope of the Stack, as it’s known, and – haunted by the smell of bacon frying – try the biggest building. Their luck is in, and it is the village worship hall and community meeting house, and Fr. Isaak is still alive!
And so is Matron Ella, the priest reveals as the Dwarves chow down on sausages. [Their cold/tired damage will recover swiftly from now.] Her proper name is Matron Ella Hinge. Recently her son led an expedition against the goblins and did not return. The stress has caused Matron Hinge and her husband Silas to separate.
So, the two known problems seem to be the same. Now for some bargaining and equipping!
With a party debt of 5 silver pieces the Dwarves are now much better equipped. The 5sp also takes into account any number of crossings between the Stack and Stone’s Throw. The locals charge for using the bridge (well, they are in the greater Esgaroth area)!
- Club: this 3d6 weapon is cheap and effective. Cauleigh and (after some prompting) Grom take one each.
- Knife: a simple fishing knife will deal 2d6. Fennec and Jotunn have one each.
- Staff: a length of timber very similar to Cauleigh’s broomstick will allow Fennec to create a focus. It will burn out after a few spells but is better than nothing.
- Flax kits: the local wetland is an ample source of flax and these simple bags will do for storing food.
- Chow: Dried fish, roasted beet, and a round of bacon-fat bulk out the kit but guarantee at least a day’s grub.
They also have a lead, since Jotunn spotted those goblin tracks…
[My own version of encumbrance follows the rules pretty closely but I'll also keep an eye on unwieldy items. Cauleigh will need to drop his traveling-stick-and-kit so as not to get tangled up, if it comes to a fight.]
Act 3 Scene 3 The evening’s highlight – apart from fun roleplaying – arrives as Jotunn is asked to make an open-ended roll on IQ.
Jotunn’s player starts rolling and with a double-one begins a string of doubles that gets to 19, Level 3 on his IQ or 57 AP in one go!
With this I hand him an advantage.
“I remember enough of the lie of the land now – these goblins and boars are bound to be going down to Dudney Chasm.”
“And?”
“We can head around to one flank of the woods and not just walk down their trail.”
Act 4 scene 1 I ask for party order since the Dwarves are now filing through woods and are not on an open trail of any kind.
Jotunn is in the lead followed by Cauleigh and then we have Fennec with the sharp-eared Grom as rearguard. A brave move since his abilities are Level 1. However, Grom does manage to react as a twig cracks under a goblin foot!
Whoom!! There’s a bright purple flash and burst of sound as Fennec sends a Take That You Fiend (TTYF) into a goblin. This will both add to combat and have an effect win or lose. It’s the staple of combat wizards because it gets better with IQ and multiplies up at higher levels.
Meanwhile Grom and Cauleigh fetch their cudgels to the foe and the wounded goblin falls. The other turns to flee.
It’s SPD SR vs DEX SR as Cauleigh hurls his club at the retreating foe. Cauleigh – just – manages L2 which is enough at point blank range with no distractions. The damage is inflicted directly on the goblin, who dies.
The Dwarves catch their breath and realize these were only two random goblins. But they must be close to the Chasm. More importantly, there is an upgrade on offer.
Loot:
- No money and the goblin rags are no better than Jotunn’s rags.
- Two short sabres of inferior goblin make. Cauleigh and Grom upgrade anyway, because steel is cooler than wood. They will be worth 3d6 – until they break.
- Two goblin knives, slightly more suited to fighting than fishing knives and utility knives. They will be worth 2d6+1.
“Hark!”
The cry comes from Grom, who has keen ears for danger. He has heard the grumphing of a boar and the complaining of goblins. Trouble is nigh!
And we left the session there. Normally I’d hope to complete an adventure of this nature in a session but chargen took about half the session. Everyone had fun although Jotunn’s player complained about his lack of magical ability. To be sorted out by email over the next few days hopefully!
Props: Creighton Broadhurst and Steve Hood, Raging Swan Press' Village Backdrops Ste Coffey and Loz Hensel: Concept Cards' Urban Locations Esgaroth is mostly my creation and is archived here on Trollbridge.
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Post by warlord476 on May 27, 2016 17:56:06 GMT -5
The characters for this session
This session we have a tweaked Jotunn whose player has decided to forgo the specialist magic-user role. He is now a warrior with background as hunter (at Apprentice level, giving +5 on related tests) and the tracking talent (reducing SR level for tracking). He’s armed with a 3d6 light crossbow and the same 2d6+1 goblin dagger he looted last session.
Grom the rogue is also due for a tweak since I’d focused on getting the feel of the game across in session 1 and missed a couple of little things, but his player could not make it. Grom will stick close by the 50-CON meat shield known as Jotunn and hope nothing too surprising happens. Because in T&T, player attention and reaction are part of the game.
Languages: We tested who might know which illkin language. Because the Vale is my world the official dT&T languages are not especially relevant. Jotunn knows some Uruk-tongue and Grom some goblin.
So the characters are:
Fennec, wandering hedge-wizard;
Cauleigh, city-born student and warrior;
Jotunn, strange wilderness-hunting warrior; and
Grom, city-born rogue scribe.
Prologue
Our heroes are bound for Dudney Chasm, amid a marsh-bound forest, to rescue Matron Ella’s son (who led a punitive expedition there) and harvest bounties by killing goblins. Jotunn navigates them expertly around the woods so as not to follow the main path. Two goblins strike across their route, notice them and are slain.
We rejoin our heroes as Grom alerts them to a sound he has heard from the direction they had originally been bound. It is a grumphing sound, as of a wild boar, mingled with goblin griping.
And I kick off with Level 1 Luck Saving rolls (L1 LK SR). Everyone fails. I explain as kindly as I can that the forest environment is no friend to people in rags, and the fight has rid Jotunn and Grom of any vestiges of modesty.
Act 4 Scene 2
We’re not really good at this concealment thing
The four hurry still further off their original course and lay themselves flat – since clambering up trees isn’t really an option – and try to lay low and hold their breath (L2 CON SR) as goblins and a boar arrive at the scene of the last fight. Finding their two slaughtered and looted fellows, the goblins are up in arms! As they sound the alarm, the boar snuffs out the four hiding! (Fennec and Grom fail their CON SRs, Fennec is on a truly awful streak of SRs.)
I call DEX SRs to get up and ready. Cauleigh announces a plan to hurl his kitbag – which has food in it – at the boar to distract it. With L3 on DEX this succeeds perfectly and the boar is completely distracted for the first combat round. The three goblins with it, who are ill-equipped, are slain instantly as enough of the party are on their feet to fight properly. The following combat round, Jotunn seizes a harpoon from the corpse of one goblin and skewers the boar with it.
Since the alarm has been sounded it is time to loot quickly and get further around the Chasm. Jotunn confiscates seven inferior crossbow bolts and the harpoon. The boar’s carcass is hoist up to a tree-fork for later. Then the four scurry away from more goblin shouts, intermingled with a deeper gruffer voice.
And we’re not great at stalking either
Grom spots a couple of goblins working casually outside the blackened mouth of a tunnel. The four heroes are peering down in pleasant sunlight into a steep natural dell, thickly grown with fern and brush save on its floor, which is mossy green though with bare patches where goblins and boars assemble. Grom believes he can guide the group from bush to bush and sneak around the goblins.
He is wrong. Perhaps the bright sun winking off his nethers alerts the goblins?
But the good news is that they were taking their duties very lightly and are swiftly overcome before they can cry for help.
Act 4 Scene 3
A door, and beyond it
Grom thinks he is good with doors and the others are very willing to believe him. The cavern leads to two fissures, and one is shaped to a passage, with a crude door at the end. The other fissure sounds of underground sea-channel, a sucking and sighing sound mournful to Dwarves.
Bat-guard!
As they file to the door, a bat swoops from the other fissure and wraps itself around Jotunn’s face, sinking its teeth in and sucking blood. Fennec wisely decides not to destroy it with magic and cuts it free, and Cauleigh rips it free. (The bat sucks CON and went to two combat rounds.)
Grom communes with the door then decides he needs some help (because it could be trapped, though he doesn’t mention that). As he yanks the door open Cauleigh dive-rolls thorugh – onto a crude alarm of dry twigs.
The broad cavern is moist with a number of stalactites above. From his floor-level vantage Cauleigh spots a small pale shape in the mud near his hand and begins probing… then another door at the far end is thrust violently open and a great scaly Ogre storms out!
This is a swamp- or sea-ogre, wielding an ogre-size light flail. It is dealt with very swiftly, Fennec smashing it with a TTYF and Jotunn with a well-placed crossbow bolt, before it closes; and it dies in a flurry of blows.
Oddments
Grom and Jotunn explore the far end of the cavern and Fennec weighs up the flail. Cauleigh’s eye had been caught by a silver spoon. Digging around that end he soon finds a couple of cubes with carven dots, a fluffy little thing that is bony inside, and a chain attached to some kind of device.
Cauleigh fishes his lantern out of his kitbag and lights it. As he imagined, the cubes are dice. The chain is attached to an incense-burner. It’s a religious tool, in other words. Could easily be valuable – he bundles it into the kit and wraps the chain around his shoulders.
Experimenting with the flail, they decide it’s a bit dangerous (most flails need DEX of around 15 to use competently). The only other thing the ogre had on was a broad belt – and that’s not much use to beings of their size.
There are two other ways out of the cavern. One leads to a smooth path that runs along what feels and smells like a precipice, and the other leads to the ogre’s chamber.
Feeling that this is a slightly combat-heavier job than bargained for, the four explore the ogre’s chamber. It looks as though the ogre worked for food, and didn’t bother with cooking. But beyond the mess, there’s a glimmer of daylight.
Spoon!
Through a narrow chokepoint, they can see a tunnel that becomes an open chasm. Feeling that they probably aren’t going to find human prisoners this way, they decide to check it: at least it may offer an escape route.
Amid an ashen pile, something stirs. Then forms itself into a human shape. Before you can cry ‘spirit! Why dost thou haunt me!’ it is on them and drains poor Cauleigh of a great deal of strength and Grom of a little bit.
Fennec recalls a vague bit of lore: ‘silver might harm it’ in time for combat round 2. Wielding his silver spoon like a hero of yore, Cauleigh returns the wraith to oblivion – Fennec helping with a very loud TTYF. (Fennec was 1 off Level 1 on WIZ for recollecting something arcane – so his memory was triggered for round 2, not round 1.)
The grotto does indeed widen out beyond, but there’s no sign of any useful trail. So back to the precipice they go.
Act 5 Scene 1
Poison!
Their right shoulders are to the cavern wall-face and their left shoulders are exposed to the drop. Jotunn can’t see tracks in the smooth surface, but mould on the wall has been scarred at goblin-height and something taller-height.
Not far along, there’s a niche in the wall that lets into a cut chamber, hexagonal like a bee-hive cell. Aside from a small iron cauldron on dead embers in the middle of the chamber, and another niche in the chamber’s right wall that might lead on, there’s nothing to see.
Pushing on, they walk to the end of the drop-off: the passage bores into a natural fissure. Encouraged, Jotunn heads in. Cauleigh, who is now at rear of party, is jumped by a huge spider that sinks its fangs into his neck (despite the chain)! Luckily for him his sturdy Dwarven frame resists the poison (L3 CON SR) and the spider is swiftly slain.
Treasure!!!
The fissure widens to another cut chamber. It is very plain, with little but a comfortable chair. Grom finds a near-empty goblet under the chair, but none of the coarse brandy Fennec tastes from it.
Then inspiration strikes and they inspect the chamber roof. A good-sized Uruk could stand on the chair and reach what seems to be a hand-hold there…
Jotunn acts as the base balancing on the chair, and Fennec balances on him… and tests the hand-grip…
A cascade of coin showers down!
Not worrying about valuation, they pack it all away in kit-bags and crannies.
The only other item of value among the hoard is a simple map of the area, sketched on raw hide. Jotunn fastens the hide about himself, strategic apron-style.
Act 5 Scene 2
The shaft
But no sign of a prisoner, so back to the hexagonal cell. Inspecting the niche Jotunn finds that sure enough, it does lead to another chamber – of similar dimension – but this has a broader niche cut in the far wall, where a winch-drum has been set. A pulley above lowers a broad cable-rope from the winch-drum down a shaft in the floor. Luckily, there’s no guard-goblin waiting by the winch with crossbow at the ready.
The gap between where they stand and the winch-station is just wide enough to jump, for a very nimble Dwarf.
Inspiration strikes Cauleigh and he unwinds the chain and thurible. It makes an excellent makeshift grappling-hook.
Jotunn and Fennec act as sturdy anchors while Grom clambers along the chain to the winch. He winds up a sturdy wooden platform, well-supported by four strands of the cable-rope.
Act 5 Scene 3
Misery loves company
Before long the three available – Fennec Jotunn and Cauleigh – are lowered to cell number one.
“Who’s your mum then” Cauleigh asks the wildly hairy prisoner. Apparently this is not Ella’s son, this is a luckless fool that thought Jonas – the son in question – would lead him to glory. His only consolation is that his poo probably leaches down to Jonas’ cell, further down the shaft.
They rescue Jonas and luckless fool both, and retire prudently away out past the wraith’s ash-pile. No sense lingering to see when the Uruk boss will get back with the goblins!
Act 6 Scene 1
Bonus
Fennec and Cauleigh both notice irregularities in the silicate mounds not far past the wraith’s ash-pile. Partly by use of makeshift tools, they pry out a scroll-case and a potion bottle (Fennec) and a nifty pair of orange cloth gloves (Cauleigh). Cauleigh shakes the human bones out of the glove fingers and tries them on. A remarkably good fit!
Up the chasm walls – easily climbed thanks to the many ferns on it – and back to Tigley they retreat.
Act 6 Scene 2
Bargain for bounty
They are welcomed back. Without any proof they killed any goblins, they have a hard time claiming bounty, but after calculating what they owe on various other matters they do get 30 gold coins. Fr. Isaac also holds a healing ceremony and cures Grom and Cauleigh. Jotunn and Grom are clad in rough (and itchy) burel vest and troos, so as not to shock the village womenfolk.
Counting up the loot, aside from hardware of various kinds, they have taken 450 gold worth out of the Uruk’s chamber. Aside from the other odds and ends, Cauleigh cleans the muck off the fluffy bony object and finds it is a rabbit's foot. He decides to keep it.
Doing some rough calculations on what equipment they need for an extended journey with adventuring included, the shares aren’t quite enough. So they vote to once more return to Dudney Chasm and see if they can take some more goblins down. This time they are clear about bounty proof – they will cut a left ear off each goblin.
(This is a good rest period where attributes can be raised. Cauleigh races his LK up to 10 and Fennel his IQ to 12. Jotunn grits his teeth and gets DEX to 14.)
A few days later they set out in brilliant light for the forest and Dudney Chasm. They will make their way back the way they came – to the chasm and the ogre-grotto.
Act 6 Scene 3
A running battle
The plan succeeds perfectly, right up until they near the wraith’s ash-pile. From the vantage of descending and filing towards the ogre-grotto, two more possible passage can be seen. Perhaps a few minutes are wasted checking; but in any case the ogre has been replaced by two Wulfan, who rush the party out of two passages.
Fennec throws his newly-enhanced TTYF into the fray, then a second time! With one Wulfan dead the other is dealt with easily. But the noise of battle has brought some unwelcome attention…
Three goblins have appeared back at the lip of the chasm and aim crossbows down at the Dwarves. Cauleigh and Jotunn duck for cover but Fennec and Grom fail to react to the danger, making them easy targets. Both take a bolt each and Grom falls! Yelling for reinforcements the goblin guards step away out of line of sight.
The danger is high and Grom is helpless. Fennec dashes open the scroll and mutters the words of a spell he was planning to learn from it: ‘Poor Baby!’
But Grom still lies immobile. Fennec swigs his only potion of healing and helps drag Grom to cover in the ogre grotto.
(Fennec just did not have enough WIZ left after the Wulfan fight. Grom remains at -1 CON.)
The Dwarves yell possible plans to one another but it looks like the ogre grotto is the best place for a defence with a possible bug-out. It has a choke-point at one end and a sturdy door at the other. The Wulfan have cleared it out a little and it smells rank but is otherwise not bad footing.
Now fate plays a deadly card. The Uruk boss calls for a well-coordinated pincer attack. (I roll double-sixes for his IQ check!)
Goblins attack from both ends of the grotto, and although Jotunn defends heroically Grom receives some more wounds and dies.
‘We have to form a wedge and barge out!’ Jotunn decides, and leads the way. (STR test, he makes L4.) Fennec and Cauleigh kill the goblins he up-ends as they break out into the grotto by the wraith-pile. Then they all attack the remaining few goblins at that end. Their goblin sabres and knives shatter but they have spare clubs, and the killing is great.
Fennec notices the Uruk boss, an old grey-haired warrior, scarred of feature and clad in white leather armour. The Uruk is safely up on the chasm lip: he spits and wheels away, leaving his goblins to their doom.
Now the boot is on the other foot as the three Dwarves turn their fury on the other half of the goblins, who cannot attack easily through the choke-point. Many are slain before the remainder flee much faster than Dwarves can follow.
Epilogue
Bounty and bound for Esgaroth
Staggering under the weight of crappy goblin weaponry they return safe to Tigley. Jotunn has found tracks where the Uruk boss, mounted on the last boar, made his escape. The goblin band is broken and Tigley is safe… at least from that quarter.
With 19 goblin left ears in front of them the village is embarrassed to admit they don’t have the funds to cover that many but ‘they are good for it’. A phrase often heard in Esgaroth. But they do cover the bulk of the bounty.
Cauleigh urges the pile of weapons to be carried back into Esgaroth. Tigley can’t pay for them so that’s the best option.
So it is back to Esgaroth they will go!
dT&T is just as fast and furious as the classic version. I tend to go by my memory and new rules about negative CON and a result of 3,1 on 2d6 not being a fail threw me, but the players all have copies of the basics so corrected me without losing too much time. I’m using a searchable PDF on my tablet, which helped for the ‘dying’ rules. The players are comfortable with the relaxed approach to rules. When they pointed out the 'level in dice per weapon wielded' rule I threw it out immediately, and there was no problem.
I've warned Fennec that we are on Easy setting but when we switch to Normal the spell-book will be closed and he will have to cast from memory.
The survivors are hoping Grom's player will roll up another rogue, but we shall see what the dice say next session!
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 3, 2016 19:06:05 GMT -5
TI1.03: Gearing up in Esgaroth
Welcome back!
This session concerns the logistics of getting money and hardware into town, turning that into useful gear, and setting off – with a view to finding a new rogue and finding out something about the road ahead. The players achieved all this so well I awarded bonus adventure points.
The characters for this session:
Fennec, wandering hedge-wizard;
Cauleigh, city-born student and warrior;
Jotunn, strange wilderness-hunting warrior; and
Crompton, Runebearer and disowned rogue
Coast Way
The three heroes of Tigley shake its dust (and guano) off their feet early one morning about a week after their triumph. The good folk of Tigley kindly allow them to hire three of the fisher-boys to paddle them road-wards. Now, they pile their bundles at the roadside and begin arranging them for the walk north into Esgaroth.
I do the math while our fourth player is rolling his new character up and drawing a random background. Surprisingly the 19 short sabres, two light crossbows, bundles of bolts, and 1077 coins don’t weigh so much as to be a real hindrance. They are cumbersome of course. The other issue will be that the Dwarves have only flax-woven sling-kits to carry the bulk of the coins in. Any real fighting, and those will start spilling.
The Coast Way is busy but not crowded. Swinging north at steady Dwarf-style gait they are overtaken by most travelers, and in the first short while only a slaver greets them. He offers to purvey a slave, which they politely decline. He passes on south, manacles a-rattle.
As the sun nears its zenith the way is seen to be blocked. It’s a powerful detachment of Coast Way militia, being besieged by about a third their number of peddlers. It’s the sort of situation where things can go bad quickly. They make their way off the Way – and a Level 0 DEX roll means without falling in slime or losing gear – and work around the obstruction.
Rejoining the Way, they’re hotter and tireder, and when another peddler hails them and asks them what the holdup ahead is it’s a welcome diversion. The man is a spice sackman: when they explain what he decides to turn back and rest in the outwall for a while; and recommends the Farting Goose for their midday meal.
At the Farting Goose
Crompton is loitering at the Farting Goose. He holds down a valuable post as a Runebearer, a Dwarf office within the Truerunners, who in turn are city messengers. Three dusty and muddy Dwarves enter and holler for pork pie and beer, and he eyes them carefully. It’s obvious they are down-at-heel adventurers who have just come by swag. Goblin swag from the look of the bundles of short sabres. Their slung pouches jingle richly.
Crompton soon greets the three heroes and sits with them for another round of beer. They ask him if he wouldn’t mind heading back into the city with them. And does he know places where things like used swords can be sold off with no paperwork? He does know, and he doesn’t mind accompanying them.
How to get through the gates and quietly dispose of loot without annoying guilds or being robbed was one of the big issues for the session. A Truerunner’s badge won’t act as a free pass but it won’t hurt either. And Truerunners know all sorts of things about the city not known to normal law-abiding Dwarves.
When the neighborhood kids start begging it’s time to leave and without further ado or tipping they do. Just down the path from the Farting Goose a slopman offers to sell them used clothes, which is a godsend, because neither Fennec nor Jotunn are wearing comfortable clothes. He even gives them five coppers back on the burel vest and troos Jotunn had.
The bashing-up
It’s not just hot tired Dwarves who sink a couple of pints at midday. As the four make their way towards the slow-moving crowd at the gates, five brawny young journeyman masons fall into step behind them, commenting loudly on their defects.
Fennec has had enough of this. He wheels, gestures the arcane symbols and shouts:
“Oh Go Away!”
Well it’s not about a sassy comeback if you are a grumpy Dwarf, so the others deposit gear or just hand it to Crompton and get stuck in with cudgel and bowstock. Meanwhile Fennec’s spell was directed at two journeymen and backfires: the two jump him and beat him senseless.
Jotunn hopes to put down the other three before they can, but Fennec is beaten by a double margin while he and Cauleigh manage only a convincing win. Neither do they attempt a maneuver to interfere. So my call is that the journeymen have plenty of time to use their fists and boots. Fennec takes as a learning point that he could also have used a makeshift weapon.
As Crompton swings the flat of a borrowed sabre at them the journeymen take to their heels. Leaving an unconscious Fennec. The others distribute his gear, mostly to Crompton, then Cauleigh and Jotunn look about for someone to help carry the wizard.
dT&T has sensible beat-down rules, so I don’t need to invent any. Fennec will take quite some time to recover and he is heavy. This threatens to turn into a major roadblock, but some good roleplaying about hiring help from Cauleigh gets us back on track. Duly rewarded.
A helpful community scribe later, a sturdy man drapes Fennec’s arms over his shoulders like sack-corners, leans into the weight, and off they go again.
Into the city
“Allo Crompton!”
The city gate guards know Crompton and accept a few silvers to not worry too much about what the others are carrying.
Beyond the gates of the new wall lie the new suburbs, as they are known – fairly densely-built areas that grew up out of the previous ‘outwall’ once the war regulations against building were relaxed or forgotten. They’re mostly quite old, by human standards. The Way itself is a-bustle with traffic flowing both ways and the going is slow. But at length, they pass through the old southgate and are in the ‘real’ city.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time they pass the streets of muster and pause at the flesher’s yards. Fennec snorts as the vile stench wakes him.
“What smells like pig turd?” he grumbles.
“That pig getting slaughtered just yonder,” Crompton explains.
The laborer eases Fennec down and stretches, collects his silver and leaves. The four Dwarves cut east through the fleshers lanes and around into the Trading Sector. So far so good!
Coppersmith corner
Crompton makes a decision he’s been mulling over since they asked him if he knows places where weapons can be hocked off. Well, two decisions:
- I’m not going to betray these guys – I’ll join them
- I’ll bring them to Coppersmith corner where they can sell the gear without involving any fences I personally know
It takes the rest of the day [at some stage they will score Level 1 on LK SR but it’s not just yet] but eventually, the three heroes of Tigley do find a place to sell 19 short sabres. They decide to keep the two extra crossbows. And the trader doesn’t stiff them – Crompton pockets ten gold finder’s fee and they each add thirty to their existing fortune.
Across the Market by torchlight
By this time evening has announced itself to their eyes and stomachs. They each buy pie and beer from one of the many food-stalls on the Trading side of the Market and study the milling crowds for best options for crossing. Dwarf-home and Cauleigh’s sister’s place lie on the other side.
The daytime crowds are slowly being replaced by nighttime crowds, and daytime peddlers and stall-holders by nighttime hawkers and street entertainers. Respectable folk walk quickly and stiff-shouldered, hurrying home. In the north, a great mass of people crowd the Bridge, waiting to pay toll and cross north.
The four use the momentary space created by the icy-glare of the Vedas Kistarn priest and his spear- and short-sword armed guards to work their way in. Then there comes the cry:
“Way! Make way! ‘Ware arrows!”
There’s a thump as they scatter and they see an Arbalestwright has just demonstrated the deadly power of one of Esgaroth’s most feared weapons. The warriors wish they had the cash and carrying capacity to afford an arbalest.
The diversion has let them gain more ground and they skirt a jig-team and wander through gawping raft brothers, all agog at the night market. Some old women listen to a lone fiddler working an old plaintive tune, and they skirt that politely.
Up ahead there’s a procession. Slow moving too. Sometimes these can really stop everything. This one’s a funeral. They wait.
Which puts them right in front of some youngsters, from the north side by the look of their nice clothes, who take note of Fennec. [Who fails another L1 LK SR.]
These are novices from one of the mage schools and things could get nasty but Crompton helps face them down by sneering at the flickering fire one conjures. He knows the very same spell. Then Fennec solves everything:
“Guard! Illegal magic! Guard!”
Not waiting to argue their case the novices run off, yelling useless threats.
Studying the procession for some inspiration, Crompton realizes he knows a guildsman in it. He asks if they can join. And at first that seems like a good idea: then the outré gear Jotunn and Fennec are wearing strikes a jarring note, [with two fails on CHR] and they are forced to retire hastily as a master dauber and his servants order them begone!
That has at least spun them near Ways Meet and its grim scaffold-block. It’s where major announcements are made, but it also serves a focal point for unrest. Tonight someone is urging real natural justice, not the false justice served by the city. Several Uruk or Urukin can be seen among the crowd, and Cauleigh suspects it may be a race thing.
Skirting this potential hotspot they are among the friendly stalls around Dwarf-home! Safe at last!
The fellowship numbers four
Resting at Cauleigh’s sister’s, Crompton explains his own background and offers to join them in the quest for Ikkutas. He is the son of a lord of thieves, but was disowned for some not very nice morals to do with an Elf mistress. But by one means or another he will find enough gear to join them, resign as a Runebearer, and meet them later.
As for equipping, Crompton advises them to use a Harnesser. They can buy all their adventuring, weapon and armor gear in one place.
Crompton’s player did a nice job of roleplaying his background reveal, in an amusing way, and earned bonus AP. Crompton’s background allowed him to have plenty of gear so I told his player to put a wish-list together.
And so about a week later all preparations are complete. Fennec’s needs are simplest, and once he is fitted with light armour he is ready.
The warriors take serious time to test and select weapons and armour. The lives of the other two depend on their choices, after all. Cauleigh decides on strike power and mobility with a Dwarf War-axe and Gambeson, with shield and fighting-knife as backup. Jotunn opts for spike-shield and axe, with slightly heavier armour. Both keep their crossbow of course.
Cauleigh is still wearing his bright orange cloth gloves. He has learned that they were made for the adventuress Sinope, who didn’t mind being highly visible as she scaled walls or swam torrents.
Crompton joins them dressed in Lamellar armour, and they hand over the third crossbow to go with his ancestral War-axe and a variety of lighter weapons including a vicious double-dagger.
Haversacks bulging with delver goodness, they bid farewell to Cauleigh’s sister and set out to hire a boat across to the north.
The ferry brother
It’s only a few silvers to hire passage, and Fennec seems to hit it off with the ferry brother.
“I see you are a mage! Are you planning to visit the Wizard’s Guild?”
“Er, hadn’t planned to but that does seem a good idea. Where is it?”
Fennec’s tip of a gold coin seems to warm the ferry brother’s heart somehow and he not only describes how a mage would get in – not through the main gate, through the side-gate – he walks up the north embankment to the River Way and points the landmark out for Fennec.
A well spent delay I: Fennec
Fennec heads to the Inns of the Mages (its proper name), leaving his comrades at ease beside a hedged garden, with an adjoining alehouse. Pretty women of easy virtue smile at him as he swaggers in the bright sunshine. He wears good sturdy clothes and his gear is new.
A high stone wall encloses a well-appointed apartment block of three stories. A small gatehouse is crowded with people. That won’t be the place! Fennec swings right as instructed, along the wall to a blank niche where a wicket-gate ought to be.
“Knock-Knock!”
The Inns are run by retired weak mages, arbourers, and youngsters eager to pick up skills. Fennec discovers he could have stayed here free. But there’s an expectation that adventurers share their good fortune too. So all for the best really.
Fennec takes the opportunity to use the library and picks out some useful, though outdated, information about Ikkutas’ supposed location and the Vale society.
A well-spent delay II: Cauleigh
The hedge screens the Gardens of Yshe, which explains the high frequency of good-looking women in loose bright clothes. They are mostly temple-affiliated prostitutes known as Sisters of Yshe. Yshe priestesses manage the temple atop the gardens and the gardens themselves, and Yshe sisters use the gardens for business.
The three remaining are far more interested in the ale-house tuck at the roadside corner of the hedge, and its superior ale.
Looking up the bustling River Way Cauleigh spots a group of City Guard facing off, or fending off, a woman with her family. He makes his way through the travelers to hear what’s going on.
It’s a spot of luck for Cauleigh, for although he can do little to ease the woman’s difficulty – her husband Sy Gooseman is a poor commoner from the outskirts arrested for something to do with a goose and the case is already committed to the courts of low justice – he does get directions to her village and word that her Great Lady, a woman named Annan, is seeking to hire hardy folk like him.
At length with bellies full of pie and ale, Jotunn and Crompton are joined by the other two.
Through the Communities to the house of Annan
Pushing quickly now so much of the day is gone already, the four comrades pass the broad stone-laid gutter that marks as much of the north’s city wall as has ever existed. Fennec suspects it could be raised by mighty sorcery, in time of need.
Beyond lie the many self-contained communities that service Esgaroth. They tend flocks and herds and grow produce and grow sturdy sons and daughters who wield bows and spears in militias.
At the farthest outskirt, and north of the road to the point where even the line of the river is just a suggestion of deeper green and grey, lies the Community known as Wywood. A peasant tending his field in the last rays of light confirms the big house inside the walls is the house of Annan the sorceress.
Wywood’s mound is steeper than most and its street winds around and threatens to become lost in a tangle of alleys. Dogs are in evidence and the scent of rich stews and porridge are ripe on the evening air. The four Dwarves salivate and their stomachs growl!
Cauleigh boldly knocks on the great house’s door. It is thrust open by a brawny woman, with great thick – and surprisingly hairy – forearms that hint she may be the house cook. Or bouncer.
She easily guesses the four heavily-armed Dwarves are travelers, and impressed by their clothes – mostly new and sturdy – and their gear – mostly new and good quality – she boomingly invites them to sup.
They seat at the kitchen board, tuck into soup and bread, and await the mistress of the house.
This session shows, I think, that it's perfectly possible to have a light-hearted, low-crunch game but still lean towards sim for encumbrance. A better-paced session since it did not include mass chargen. We finished a little early.
Cauleigh gains enough experience to advance Luck again, and Jotunn and Crompton do the same. Jotunn can now get to L1 without rolling doubles, and Cauleigh on LK11 is in far better shape than the others.
Props:
Creighton Broadhurst, The fallacy of the adventurer's backpack. GM's Monthly Miscellany, May 2016.
Esgaroth is mostly my own creation. Note that you will need to join the Trollbridge community to download the pdfs. Note also that the city of the archive dates about 150 years before the current story.
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 11, 2016 3:20:37 GMT -5
Welcome back!
Last night’s session tested the players’ willingness to think around combat and look for other solutions. It also tested my prep – I’d had a feeling my trusty tablet might not be able to access the web and so it proved. Luckily I had saved a text version of the vital information behind the main encounter.
This is a low-prep game. I’d had a couple of visions to go on with – first how I thought Annan the sorceress of Wywood might behave, second of an exhausted detachment out in the forest, hostiles all round. And what that detachment would be defending. That was about it.
The characters for this session
Fennec, wandering hedge-wizard;
Cauleigh, city-born student and warrior;
Jotunn, strange wilderness-hunting warrior; and
Crompton, ex-Runebearer and disowned rogue
The characters are beginning supper in the great house of Annan, sorceress and great lady of Wywood, one of Esgaroth’s outermost communities.
The lady of the community introduces herself
Served in simple wooden bowls and eaten with wooden spoons, the soup was delicious to hungry Dwarf stomachs. They had not yet finished mopping it up with the plain bread rolls when the sound of descending footsteps announced the lady of the house.
Cauleigh rose politely as she swept in without show, and assessed her with a practised eye. Had he met her on an Esgaroth street he would have placed her as a well-preserved forty-something, dressed in robes-over-dress, or house-dress-over-robes, dark hair turning iron-grey and with a lively interest in life. Knowing her to be a sorceress of course, he – and no doubt Crompton and Fennec – suspected that she might be older than she looked. Aside from the plainness of her attire and her lack of ceremony – she waved him be seated and slid onto the bench at the same board – her other oddity was a toothpick between her teeth.
Annan had a slangy, forthright way of speaking that immediately suggested her adventuring roots. The way she put it, she was a step stronger than the weak mages that run the Inns (of the mages) so this ‘vill’ (community) was a good retirement option. After some light introductions and a joke about Wywood’s name to set them at ease, Annan suggested that talk of jobs be left until after the meal.
I should add, Cauleigh's player did not forget to mention Sy and Gin Gooseman, and his generosity to Gin had a mild positive effect on the offer to come.
Do you lay ghosts? she asks: We have a banshee
After washing down two meat courses with wine or small beer all four Dwarves were in good humour, and happy to pick the remains of goose out of their teeth and chat.
“Can you do anything about ghosts? We got a banshee here in Wywood. And with a vill this crowded, it’d be good to use the house it ha’nts, and the three-four around about.”
The heroes of Tigley were dubious. They had survived a wight – just. The way Annan told it, she had lost two good men who had volunteered at one time or another and had no wish to lose more. Asking about the current arrangement they learned that Wywood as a whole avoided the haunted house.
That seemed the best solution barring a visiting exorcist so they turned the conversation to other jobs.
Annan made a false start or two then decided to begin at the beginning.
Reminiscence of war-time: the job
“I first met Dagor Thursh - at least that’s how he said his name, though I read it as Terce – back in the great war. I guess you know something about the war? Uh-huh, well this was back in the real war, before the worlds un-locked or the gate closed or whatever and the Death Goddess pulled out leaving whole armies around the Vale.
“Back in those days I had a post in the Dadhenas defences, on the ground. I’d been schooled by an Elf wood-shaper as it happened and had a way with trees. The lads opposite us were Uruks mostly, led by Urukin. They’d dig, I’d use my trees to bust their tunnels.
“Over the top – this was back in the real deal remember – they’d send flying fortresses against us, and on our side we had aerials whose job was to bust the fortresses up, make them come apart before they got past the defence.
“Well one day we were having a close set-to down where I was. One of the aerials decided to take a hand and dropped a hellbomb on the Uruks. You know the kind of thing? It makes the ground fuse into glass. I lost a bunch of my trees, too. Well, Dagor walked away from it. That does happen, time to time.
“Later, after the war, he came up through the lines looking to settle, and told me he got a new religion from the flame. I told him, settle north, just east of where the old Curuilas estates have overgrown with forest. Well, he did, and got quite a few followers too, up in Hopespyre.
“Two of them were old buddies of mine, Banja, a Dwarf, and Shan, a Hobb. Lately I got a letter from Banja about trouble there. The way she tells it, they’re under attack from Fairies, and Wulfan.”
Bargain struck, they leave at dawn
Naturally there were questions about why such unlikely allies would band together, or attack at all, but Annan could add little. Fairies meant magic, of course.
She could offer some magical assistance, and part of that might be part of the payment. Or as she put it:
“I got a kickin’ spell, if you got cloth or leather armour.”
As to the best way, Annan’s beefy-armed major-domo drew forth a map and the Dwarves noted estates named Zmitas and Nauras and Curuilas, all overgrown now apparently, and a path that led between them.
“Steer clear of Curuilas… a name of ill repute,” Annan advised.
So with ‘slivers’ to bind to hafted weapons and crossbow shafts, and a thousand in gold to be collected from a town named Palgwyth on completion, the bargain was struck. The four well-fed Dwarves slept contentedly.
During the meal I left it to each player as to what they drank. The paranoia meter was running mid-way. For wine drinkers, I just stated that they entered bargaining with a full stomach and easy feeling.
Fennec's player will need to pay more attention. You don't always happen on a magic user who needs a favour and has access to the Teacher spell. However the thou agreed on needs to be put into context. It came with ready-to-use weapon charms (a bucket of them) and four customised Zapparmor charms - double the length but limited to natural materials.
The journey to Hopespyre: Into the trees by finger-post
Annan’s advice had been, follow the path, and each time a finger-post offers a choice of Palgwyth or some other way, take the other way. Jotunn followed this advice and the first day’s march was easy. Though tree-roots had pushed across, the path was well-beaten and still pebbled. Nor were there any major washouts nor even a false turn.
An easy Tracking-assisted check for Jotunn
By eve, Crompton was weary indeed. His city-street fitness was not good enough for a full day’s march. He eagerly volunteered to take second watch once it was agreed that the night would be divided into two watches.
Jotunn took first watch, alongside Fennec, and made sure to tie charmed slivers to each of his bolts.
The second day dawned just as bright and quiet as the first, and this time the path bent fairly true north. Not in such good repair, it did give Jotunn more of a challenge. At one stage, it was only after poking around a stone for some time that he deciphered the name ‘Curuilas’ on one side, and knew to take the other.
Towards evening, again deciding where best to make camp, the four Dwarves were challenged:
“Who goes there!”
The Cut and its commander vintenier Foulstock
Bale-fires had already been lit on the simple palisade defending a shallow cleft in the land that the road passed through. The Dwarves identified themselves as travellers bound to help the folk of Hopespyre and advanced.
The garrison had been twenty: four new-dug graves lay near the walls. Vintenier Foulstock was a young wispy-bearded man with haunted red-rimmed eyes.
“We have Wulfans attacking us by night and pixies by day,” he explained. “We get snatches of sleep where we can. If you are bound to help Hopespyre, here at the Cut is the crisis.”
Who commands a desperate garrison at bay
All too soon the Dwarves learned the reality of Foulstock’s warning. Barely had the weary Crompton laid him down to sleep when with a terrible howl a black Wulfan hurled himself over the palisade to get to grips with a guard.
Fennec saw that Jotunn had been too late with his crossbow, but he had a solution. Weaving his fingers and gesturing with his staff, he yelled the key words:
“Oh Go Away!”
The Wulfan turned from its intended victim – and leaped at Fennec!
Four more Wulfan vaulted the palisade with ease as Crompton and Cauleigh roused themselves. But the attack was short-lived. Once the Wulfan attacking Fennec was aware of his danger he leaped away again, and the others followed.
Fennec's player had been pretty sure this would be the effect, and in the combat to come he, Jotunn and Crompton used it to good effect, and gained a little bonus AP.
Skirmishes, and a desperate prisoner
Plans were laid, and in the next attack the Dwarves were ready. Fennec did his trick again – with the same result – and Jotunn, Cauleigh and Crompton tackled the one Wulfan together. It went down as Crompton’s vicious heirloom-axe took its leg off. They turned on the remaining Wulfan, drove them off, then tournique'd and bound their prisoner.
“You speak?” – they wanted to know. The Wulfan assented, and spoke in mangled tongue.
The reason the Wulfan were attacking, according to the prisoner, was an 'evil fire' that had poisoned their lair, preventing mating and cubs. He could not explain what the fairy (or pixie?) agenda was.
Nor had they leisure to learn more: In the next attack, Crompton butchered the prisoner.
“You were arguing so much about whether the thing ought to be carried on a stretcher or given a crutch I thought I’d make it simple,” he explained.
Interesting little side-light on Crompton's character but not actually roleplayed. I had intended the other Wulfan to take their injured comrade out but Crompton took the time to drop out of the first combat round so as to execute the helpless prisoner. The heirloom axe, which was chosen as the 'superior item' Crompton's background allowed, got its first outing here by the way - its effect is "can't roll ones in combat round one" which is more interesting than a simple + rating.
And a desperate defence
“Have you got any rope? Only, we have a hunter and he thinks he can set some snares,” Crompton asked his hosts tiredly. He returned to Jotunn with ten feet of it, and Jotunn un-picked the length. The pair set to work tying rope snares to timber lengths.
Both Jotunn and Crompton have a talent that might allow snare construction
Weary as Crompton was, there was no leisure to sleep. Another hour or less and another Wulfan attack! Fennec’s stratagem worked perfectly. The Dwarves working as a team could easily put an individual Wulfan down.
Then Cauleigh took the initiative – and nearly cost himself his own life! Breaking formation, he went to flank a pair of Wulfan savaging a guard. But two Wulfan were too many for him – and as he backed away, he snared himself and went down with the pair of Wulfan worrying at his gambeson’s ventail!
Luck had not entirely deserted Cauleigh! One desperate hand slapped the Zap charm Annan had given him – and the gambeson held together long enough for his comrades to beat the Wulfan off him!
Cauleigh had his reasons for breaking formation - I think from memory it was to rescue the guard - but it cost him dear. Backing up through snared ground? In combat? I gave that a L3 DEX SR and he rolled a 3. Investment in LK paid off as he made the SR to find the Zap charm.
Sensing a victory the Wulfan pressed the fight longer than wise. As the combat prolonged, Fennec’s ruthless picking off Wulfan had its result. Finally a mere half-dozen fled, leaving the garrison checking their own wounded.
Fennec dripped a precious dose of healing potion down Cauleigh’s throat, and he roused. Four of the garrison had not been so lucky.
Cauleigh was on zero CON, Fennec used a 1-CON dose.
A seeker-bolt curtails a fairy, or is it pixie
The deadliness of the contest had its result and the Wulfan let the garrison be for the remainder of the night. Graves were dug. Foulstock was persuaded by the Dwarves to abandon the Cut while he still could. He agreed, but earnestly hoped a tough Dwarf would take the lead. Jotunn agreed.
I seem to recall this was the place where I allowed Jotunn to help Cauleigh on the persuasion, open ended CHR SR for Cauleigh, adding anything over 10 from Jotunn. They shared the 42 AP achieved.
Almost immediately, Jotunn glimpsed a flash of bright colour in the dawn sky. He loosed his crossbow but too late! And to the bewilderment of those behind him, dropped the weapon and began clucking and pecking.
Cauleigh was ready for the next chance. Stroking the charmed sliver he loosed – and the bolt seemed to bend in its course! With a thin squeal the tiny winged creature was snatched out of this life and far away.
After some minutes Jotunn recovered and for the rest of the march, no attacks occurred.
I described Jotunn's bolt as missing, while Cauleigh's, with the same charm, worked perfectly. Behind the curtain: Magic has right of going first in combat, and Jotunn was ensorceled (failed L1 LK SR) before his shot took effect. Cauleigh shot the fairy/pixie in the same round.
The seeker-charm is a variant on the same used all over Esgaroth, especially by Arbalest brothers. The standard charm targets magic-users.
Hopespyre and its potent patriarch
By pushing wearily onward with few breaks Jotunn got the column to their destination before nightfall. The way was guarded by a watch-tower, but Foulstock was ready with watch-word and explanation.
Passing through a straggle of small dwellings the visitors saw a number of larger, raised long-houses. At the centre of a crude town square, the eternal pyre burned. The Dwarves observed it closely but any thoughts they had were interrupted as a grey-bearded, impressively-chested Urukin strode out to meet the column.
Dagor may have been old but his eyes were not dim and his voice was charismatic. He welcomed their aid.
I roleplay Dagor as Sean Connory with huge canines, so two fingers against my lower lip as I speak. Old school!
Later, the Dwarves could not help noticing that a striking proportion of the village’s people had a family resemblance to Dagor.
Shan’s stew and a good sleep works wonders
The Visitor house – one of around four long-houses – was hosted by Shan Whistletree, a Hobb of outland origin. The Hobb proved an amusing and worldly host, though the first couple of hours were disturbed by an older woman who acted as though their arrival disturbed the order of her universe in some way. But by then the stew was done and they had leisure to yarn a while.
“Dwarf... you’re lookin' like a well chewed toy,” Shan opined as he spooned out his nourishing healing stew.
“My own fault...” Cauleigh answered the Hobb, taking up his bowl.
“The Wulfans were bounding all around the Cut in the dark. Fennec came up with a plan – we just hold tight and make sure we put away the Wulfans that come at us. Lower their numbers one or two at a time: slow but steady. But there was a break in the fight. I saw two militia on the ground, and two Wulfans about to tear through them. So I jumped the Wulfans from behind. This meant they both decided to turn on me.”
Cauleigh slurped back a spoonful of stew: Good!
He resumed:
“All I could see was fangs. I hopped backwards trying to re-track my steps, and tripped over. I fended with my axe as best I could while lying on my back. Caught one with just enough of a hit to slow its pounce a moment. I dropped the axe, raised my shield, and reached for my fighting knife. Just then I touched the armour charm Lady Annan had paid me with. So I activated the charm. I was never so lucky - the magic toughened the armour just as the Wolven’s teeth started tearing in.
“Mind you,” Cauleigh conceded, “even with the magic there was plenty of pain left over for me. I passed out. When I came to - Fennec was healing me.”
“Annan always did make good charms,” Shan agreed, dropping his ladle back into the stew pot. “And you saw the Wulfans off...”
“For a time.” Cauleigh looked across at the Hobb.
“They will look for replacements. It may take a few weeks. Then they and the pixies will return - this time harassing Hopespyre day and night until something gives out. Unless we can find some solution.”
"Pixies?" Shan asked, "I thought it's Fairies."
"Pixies, Fairies... whatever. Tiny, fast, magical, go 'Niiii' when hit with a crossbow bolt."
Shan’s reason for becoming a follower of Dagor seemed to be a desire for a simple life well away from civilisation. His stew was nourishing and had a healer’s touch – Cauleigh was well on the way to recovery by the time he woke the next dawn.
Shan has an Irish lilt, which is the best I can do to suggest his outland origin. Hat-tip to Cauleigh's player for the conversation.
Banja’s opinion about rocks and things
Shan had suggested that Banja, who supervised the Sister house, would be best to ask about what rock formation might be below the sacred pyre. So the four Dwarves walked over to the Sister house and politely waited for Banja to show herself.
The women of Hopespyre typically wore a bright mantle over the well-bleached homespun that all seemed to wear. Some mantles were yellow, some orange and some red.
Now that they had a chance to see numbers of menfolk, the four Dwarves noticed that aside from the favouring Dagor’s lineage, almost all men grew their beards out full.
“At least they’ve got something right” as Fennec remarked.
Then Banja emerged and they introduced themselves. Banja thanked them, though she did question them carefully about what they had promised Annan and for what reward. Though long separated the two women had kept their friendship across the years.
Banja explained enough about her own background to let them know she was a city rogue by upbringing but indeed, did have some suggestions about where to begin.
I didn't try to roleplay Banja: I have no mental image of what a female Dwarf will sound like.
Denmin’s opinion about Dwarves and their plans
Standing in the square as they were, their presence attracted more than politely curious stares. A powerful Urukin, dressed in white robes, strode over and harshly demanded their real purpose. Why were they really here? The Cut had been abandoned – their idea apparently! His suspicion was obvious, but Fennec chose a wise course between civility and hostility, and Denmin, heir-apparent to Dagor, strode away angrily.
“He is not the only one I could warn you against,” cautioned Banja. “Katin knows the area well, but don’t trust any advice he gives you. In fact – I would not trust anything he says.”
They asked as to what manner of man Katin was and learned that he was a half-elf.
Foulstock’s offer
As they considered what might be the best course, all agreed to wait one further day, so that Cauleigh could recover. It seemed that the Fairies were not attacking here and had achieved cutting off Hopespyre now that the Cut had been abandoned.
Next dawn, after another stew-enriched sleep, Cauleigh woke fully fit. His armour would be refurbished by now too. He had paid top price for a quick and accurate job.
Which I have skipped, but it isn't a big deal as far as the plot or roleplaying go. But it does point to non-metallic armour being a lot easier to get repaired than would be the case for metallic.
Vintenier Foulstock stopped by as the four readied gear.
“If you plan to venture out searching for this ‘lair’” he remarked, “you could take one of the lads with you. They were grateful for your help and I’m sure one of the brothers would willing hire on.” Then added, just in case it wasn't clear: “for coin.”
So far this has been a diary-style campaign, but I have to warn or assure readers: I don't intend to play diary-style forever. At present I need players to be getting the vibe and how 'hard' (or 'sim') everyday travel is and this bit, where armour degrades in a tough fight and boots wear out after days of marching and sleep snatched in short watches leaves you tired, is important. Later, I should just need to remark that shoes or clothes need replacing etc. and the players will get it.
Props
Hopespyre at a glance. GM's Monthly Miscellany, July 2015
& Magazine's Wizardawn. dT&T portal.
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 17, 2016 17:56:09 GMT -5
Welcome back! We are continuing where we left off, the four Dwarves getting ready for a dab at this supposed rock formation that the Wulfan may or may not have a lair in.
The characters for this session:
Fennec, wandering hedge-wizard;
Cauleigh, city-born student and warrior;
Jotunn, strange wilderness-hunting warrior; and
Crompton, ex-Runebearer and disowned rogue
They begin in Hopespyre's town square. Foulstock, the guard officer they rescued from the Cut, has asked if they want a hireling.
A Hobb hireling: Nash, ranger in good standing
After quite some minutes, the other three heroes of Tigley allowed Cauleigh to persuade them to hire one of Foulstock’s lad’s.
“Roll out your boys then, commander, but make sure they are of good character”
This caveat caused some confusion but at length they made themselves clear: they needed someone in good standing in Hopespyre, someone whose testimony would offset possible damage to the sacred pyre. Foulstock promised to return, but when he did, it was with one Hobb.
“So that really left me with one brother… this is Nash – I highly recommend him, he was trained by master Shan himself”
Nash stood a sturdy 3’ on shoeless hairy feet. His beard was but scrappy. Surreptitiously Cauleigh checked the Hobb’s ears for signs of a beard-wig’s ties.
Banja gives Crompton an advantage
Nash deposited his wages (5 gold) with ‘er indoors then joined them again. By this time it was well past noon, though the Dwarves had used the delay wisely. Jotunn had scrounged up four fathoms of sturdy rope, and Crompton had not only found a bundle of pitons, but had caught Banja when she was able to speak frankly:
“I ain’t allus been faithful to Annan, see. Don’t tell ‘er, but I palled around with a stone-mage for a time. These ‘ere…” – she passed Crompton a handful of stones – “will go off with a bang once ya throws them. The key word is: ‘Bul-Bekhazaal!’ - Now, that’s primed them. So remember the key-word and remember they go off when you yell it.”
It seemed an easy key-word: Bul-Bekhazaal was the senior-most Dwarf of Esgaroth.
Finally ready, they set off on the trail!
Speaking loudly of ‘patrolling around’ the five set off through the familiar south entrance, down the trail then off due south into the forest. Nash soon had them on a good game trail. Jotunn, striding second, spotted the footprints of a tallish, narrow-footed man moving at a swift pace. The prints were recent.
They speculated that the prints might belong to Katin, the half-Elf Banja had bad-mouthed as untrustworthy.
An aerial attack and a pothole
Their ruminations were interrupted by an aerial attack: but Fennec was ready. He threw a spell, but the tiny flying Pixie (or Fairy) countered it. Crompton, Jotunn and Cauleigh all triggered their seeker-bolts and the attacker was flung far afield, dead in an instant. That done, the conversation renewed.
“How long has Katin lived in Hopespyre?”
“Ooh… 12 year or so…”
More to the point, the tracks helped guide them to the rock formation Banja had suggested. It was well south, closer to the Cut than Hopespyre, and probably in or near Curuilas’ estate.
The first sign they had the right place was a pothole. Nash stopped in surprise.
“Someone’s tied off and gone down there!”
Jotunn inspected the rope. It was extremely weathered. Or had it been old tatty rope to begin with? Hard to say: he was no rope-walker. Cauleigh, who professed to know something about ropes, believed it to have been out here a long time, months maybe.
They left it and since the only good rope they had was a mere four fathoms none suggested potholing down. Night was close on their heels as they set out again.
Nash led them around the west side of the formation, dropping down through bush-clad shelves and hard limestone, to a low cavern entrance. A brief exploration by Jotunn and Nash distinguished two tunnels in, one spider-webbed, the other bare.
Into the Wulfan lair
After some debate and trial Nash took a torch from them and lit it. Cauleigh packed his lantern away. They set the party order: Nash leading, then Jotunn and Cauleigh, and Fennec and Crompton. As they headed into the bare tunnel Crompton glanced behind: Full night had fallen. He clutched his crossbow tight.
The natural limestone tunnel wound around, often leaving Crompton out of sight of the lead. As Jotunn announced a T-junction, Fennec’s paranoia rose. He cast:
“Oh There It Is!”
Sure enough a light glow to the left led them to a slender stone bridge across a gully. Choosing not to fall for the obvious trap, they headed right.
Soon, they found themselves in what had once been a common lair for perhaps five Wulfan litters. Simple family adornments and utensils marked five hide-carpeted areas out, near a broad black pool. Set next to the pool were a few communal treasures: a cauldron and a few implements used by the pack at large.
Jotunn probed cautiously at the pool’s edge, tasted the water, then cursed mildly as the chill feeling in his toes announced leaking boots.
“Yep, we’ll all need new boots,” Cauleigh agreed regretfully, “and I was so comfy in these marsh-boots.”
“My boots are still alright,” Crompton assured him, “good Esgaroth welting.”
Nash held his tongue.
A trail leads down to a flame trap
A number of possible exits suggested themselves, but by walking with the draft they soon found themselves below the pothole. The frayed end of the rope could be seen. Below it, marks where someone had landed heavily then dragged an oblong shape, like a heavy backpack, towards another tunnel.
Cauleigh stooped where the pack had scraped hard. He raised three coins for their inspection.
“Copper! We’re onto a major treasure here boys!”
The scrape-marks led down to a cavern where a wooden cabinet, simply fitted with pegged hinges and leather loop hinges and fasteners, nestled against one wall. A small pool wet the other side of the room. Jotunn stepped in, and was enveloped in a gas explosion!
[Easily makes the L3 CON SR – he has over 50 CON thanks to his TARO]
Somewhat singed, they waited back above for the gas to burn out, then retraced their steps. Crompton scouted, finding the cabinet scorched and the contents, a honey pot and jars of conserve, ruined. The pool had burned out.
This was where the scrape-marks ended. From here on, they navigated by likelihood of descent or air movement. A steepish tunnel led them down again, and soon to a new trace of tunnels and caverns.
A clue: the sun-swallower's symbol
At length, they found a cool-store of grim kind. The smell of rank old meat came from a rock shelf above their heads. Clambering up with a boost, Cauleigh found the chewed-but-clothed corpse of a creature Fennec identified as a Kobold. Searching the clothes briefly Cauleigh turned up a bent metal symbol of Ūrheru sun-swallower, and a smoking-pipe. A white canvas pouch lay next the corpse. Suspiciously Cauleigh tested it, and found a tripwire.
He and Crompton exchanged places and the rogue sifted through some ‘tools’ he happened to have with him.
Click!
The wary Dwarves hurled themselves to cover but Cauleigh’s foot turned and a heavy stone stalactite smashed down on him. He got up, rubbing at his side.
“Better armour! That’s what I need! I swear Hopespyre must have at least an iron hat!”
[Cauleigh’s player rolled a 3, Fennec and Jotunn managed L1 LK or DEX; Crompton was out of the trap zone.]
Trying not to snigger at another’s misfortune Crompton scooped coins back into the pouch – at a rough guess there was at least a hundred, a good portion of that in gold – and tossed it down, then followed.
Wulfans and fey, really?
Exploring further with the same means, Jotunn pushed his torch out into a large cavern. Indeed as Cauleigh and Jotunn crept in, the deep shadows their torches threw up only made the space more menacing. Along the right-hand face they crept.
And not far along, found an audience-seat where a Wulfan leader might have parlayed with Fairy-kind. A damply defaced wooden board held a tattered fresco of a unicorn and around it, Pixies. Or possibly Fairies.
They reach the cavern of evil flame
After some simple testing of options, the Dwarves detected gas and pools of flammables in one tunnel leading down from the great hall. The same toss-the-torch precaution was used, and after a decent wait, the way was pronounced safe.
Jotunn now led, though Cauleigh was still near at hand. A large cavern opened out below a limestone shelf. And down and beyond, no more than short range for crossbow, a great flame burned, licking around two figures locked in some kind of wrestling stance.
Was this some elaborate statuary? Some of the party edged along the shelf to get a better view. One false step and they would slide down slick limestone some 25 feet to the cavern floor.
“The flames make it tricky, but I think they are alive”
The smaller of the two figures was perhaps large-human size, and fangs could be glimpsed. The larger was much larger.
Driving in a piton with the hammer of his axe Jotunn tied off the rope. It reached almost the whole way down. Cauleigh eased down and found his footing, then advanced crossbow at the ready.
Katin enters - and exits
After some nervous second-thoughts about keeping together versus being well away from danger, Fennec joined him, then Jotunn. Fennec’s magic senses were a-twitch and his grandfather’s legacy of weird experiments was strong in him!
Finally Crompton joined them, and all four agreed that what they were looking at was a vampire and a false-troll, grappling each other, and being burned away and regenerating inside the flame.
Fennec caught a movement far off to one flank. He reacted with a screech of warning, then hurled his go-to spell:
“Oh Go Away!”
A slim figure dropped its war-bow and raced, features grimacing in hate, at Fennec!
[I was very soft on Fennec allowing a warning and a little think and a spell. It won't happen again.]
Three axes smashed it down and its head leaped clear, rolling to where Nash could see it:
“What! Why… that’s Katin!”
Crompton loses his advantage, and nearly his hand
Nash hardly needed to identify the corpse. To confirm his suspicions Cauleigh frisked the corpse and found another Ūrheru medallion. Then it was time to turn back to the main issue.
“I don’t know about the troll but vampire, that’s definitely something we need to deal with!”
As Cauleigh levelled his crossbow Crompton reached into his pouch and drew forth a stone.
“I got something good for that… Bul-Bekhazaal!”
The stone immediately exploded, damaging Crompton’s hand severely.
[Ouch! The other players assured Crompton's he was told about that. With a CON of 12 the damage, 10 points, was no joke.]
Groaning, he explained and the others decided to use the remaining stones. Crompton was raised back up the rope to the ledge, where he joined Nash.
“That looks really bad! Got a bandage for me to fix it with?”
One source of evil at least is done
Rolling or tossing or bowling, the remaining eight stones were grouped at the vampire’s feet, then someone yelled the key-word and a multiple explosion sounded.
The vampire was taking notice! His eyes shifted…
Crossbow bolts thudded into him and with a violent crack Fennec’s TTYF lanced into it as well. The vampire crumbled to dust, and the Troll lurched forward off balance and out of the flame.
“Run away!”
A quick exit and a heroic return
Up the rope they scrambled as the troll began to find its feet and get its bearings. And up the way they came they ran, pitter patter, and out into a pre-dawn sky.
[L1 DEX to make sure they were able to fasten crossbows back as they ran, both Cauleigh and Jotunn make it.]
Back on the path to Hopespyre they followed the known route and passed the south watch safely. They had made such good time that the villagers were still at service around the pyre. But a difference was obvious: the pyre now burned with a tall clear flame.
The saviours of Hopespyre move on towards their reward
Yes, they were saviours of Hopespyre and once Jotunn Crompton and Fennec practically sat on Cauleigh’s chest he allowed Nash to explain what had happened to make the flame change. The Hobb being in good standing with the brothers and Dagor, his account allowed the sudden murder of Katin to be waived.
In the days that followed it became clear that the Wulfan and Fairies had ceased their encirclement of Hopespyre. The flame that burned bright and clean was surely sucking toxins out of the caverns as well. Soon all the joyous woodland would rejoice as hungry young Wulfan pups were born and Fairies (or Pixies) were free to gambol and play games with mortals. And of course, most importantly, Hopespyre was free to follow its heretical cult in peace.
Some days later the saviours of Hopespyre departed with the well-wishes of their hosts going with them, as well as an iron kettle-helm on Cauleigh’s head. They were bound for the River Way and the money waiting for them in Palgwyth.
We had time for a lot more and the GM was caught on the hop, flipping through thread options, but I will deal with that in one piece in another blog entry.
A big fail on the accent front from me with Nash's accent - it was just supposed to sound a bit yokel-like but wandered around the British Isles like a drunken tourist on the wrong train.
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 18, 2016 18:22:39 GMT -5
The four Saviours of Hopespyre make their way safely through the overgrown woodland paths – west around Curilas then south – down to the tilth-lands of the Vale once more.
Palgwyth approached from the north reveals a curious spread west, with newer and greater houses on the west-most end, a scatter of crumbled hovels at the east-most end, and a stone-built great house with domed tower – a temple most likely – roughly at midpoint. Well-drained furlongs of ploughland lie for miles around.
A low wall bends itself around the western half. Low, but defended by a dry moat and much higher than a Dwarf might leap. There seems no need to seek out a main gate, since a postern is before them in the north wall.
Passing over the wooden plank bridge over the dry moat, they behold a solid gate door. Knocking meets with no reply. A sturdy bell-pull tantalizes, about two feet over their heads.
With one of their number boosted, the bell-pull sounded, a judas-window opens in the gate.
“Who’s there?”
“Down here.”
“Ooh – Dwarves? Whatcher doing here?”
“We are travelers from Hopespyre, here on lawful business.”
“Hopespyre? What’s that then?”
“’Tis a forest village not far from here.”
“…they say they’re from Hopespyre! …Nah, me neither.”
“Ahem! We have lately had business in Wywood and the sorceress lady Annan bade us travel here.”
“…now they say they’re from Wywood! …Nah, I ain’t heard of that neither!”
“Look… we’re from Esgaroth, alright?!? You must have heard of Esgaroth!”
“No need to come the high hat with me, ‘course I know Esgaroth. This is the city of Palgwyth! We ain’t country rubes here! Awright, hang on…”
The gate open, they behold a guard wearing some form of beer-stained livery. His swelling gut suggests his is an easy berth. Passing in they walk past a post where three more guards sloven. One makes to get up to shake them down, then waves a hand tiredly as their stumpy legs carry them briskly past.
Palgwyth’s wall may have been thrown up in a fever of defense but years have passed and many houses are built onto what ought to have been left open ground. This is familiar to the Esgaroth pair Cauleigh and Crompton: exactly the same thing applies there. And what might once have been broad streets are now cramped alleys. But with the landmark of the dome tower on their left they navigate to the centre of the town, around River Way.
Familiar with the ways of Arbourers they select an inn without further trouble and settle in to get clean, claim their thousand gold from the Changers, and look for work and equipment.
Further APs are spent here. Boots are ordered from cobblers, Fennec buys some really nice Wizard robes, and each character casts about for possible employment. I’ll gather the threads up into an exchange-of-news format.
Within a couple of days they were ready to meet and chat about options. Fennec began.
“I visited the Wizard’s guild, more of a club really. They’re being leaned on by someone they called the Lordsman, to do something about necromantic murders out in nearby villages.”
“I heard about the Lordsman too,” Crompton chimed in, “I visited the rogue’s guild – though yeah, more like a club-house setup – and they say the Lordsman is willing to pay coin for someone to duff up some paladin type that’s striding around town making him look bad.”
“Well, my news of the road might lead to a job as a favour for the local power, house Balas,” Cauleigh remarked. “The next big city is Rothway, and by the way if you want good quality gear I’m told it’s worth waiting until we get there, and around Rothway there’s some kind of mercenary force throwing its weight around, making people here fret about what it means.”
“My news is more about the moors than the road,” Jotunn finished, “there’s a witch-wolf said to be killing people, or at least terrorizing them, south of here. Lots of rumour, no fact, but they do say silver will harm a witch-wolf and by a remarkable coincidence I still have all my silver-headed bolts.”
“How far south?”
“Oh, just around – like Fennec says, the nearby villages.”
“Oh right then. The other thing I did hear,” added Cauleigh, “is that a ‘new power’ is rising south of the river and upstream, but apparently some place named Edoras is where to get more news of that.”
The four considered the information then Cauleigh piped up again:
“You know, the thing I get out of all this is that this ‘Lordsman’ has money. What say we pay him our respects, ask about this leg-breaking job, case the joint and rob him? We know which way we can get out easy – the north postern!”
“And I thought Crompton was the rogue!”
And so it is that the four take themselves east to the square of the temple-gate, and there they behold a huge-chinned, powerful man striding towards them as though he owns the town.
And lo, the paladin he stoppeth, and speaketh as though he owneth the town.
And then spake Fennec unto the paladin, in a slightly less-than-awed manner.
And lo, Fennec the paladin doth throw mightily, unto the mud of the street, whereof the mud sticketh to Fennec’s shiny new Wizard robes.
It is not all that long before the four Dwarves track the Lordsman down. It so happens at this time of day he is giving wise counsel to a harlot, which requires him to cavort naked with her, but no doubt she gains great spiritual benefit by this hands-on ministry.
“Yes, I am willing to pay oooh, 250 gold for a polite message to this Sir paladin. How dare he call me a whoremonger! Right my dear?”
The saviours of Hopespyre agree, for 500 gold, and depart, to think of something poetic and artistic to happen to the paladin.
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 25, 2016 19:37:18 GMT -5
Welcome back!
As you may recall, a large-chinned paladin has tempted the four saviours of Hopespyre into falling in with the Palgwyth Lordsman’s ambition. This, instead of robbing the otherwise tempting target, the Lordsman himself, who is a stereotypical bloated lecher of a priest. While the Lordsman pictures nothing more complicated than a beating-up, the Dwarves decide that humiliation fits the crime.
The characters for this session:
Fennec, Level 2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, Level 2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Jotunn, Level 5 warrior (background: hunter; talent: tracking)
Crompton, Level 2 rogue (background: Runebearer; talent: roguery)
Plans for the paladin are drawn up
We rejoin our heroes then, as they sit around a quiet nook in their inn, making plans. Skipping the blow-by-blow debate this is how their plans break down:
Base idea: Slops to head
- Find and rent an upstairs room below which the paladin will walk
- Pitch nightsoil bedpan at head
- Get away safely (E.g. Fennec may have to make himself a target)
- Cost/benefit: Payment for room for at least a day; Need to be fairly lucky to hit a specific target; Relatively simple to execute
Base idea: Sully credit rating
- Wander round likely places bad-mouthing paladin
- Get out of town before the point where rumours are traced back
- Cost/benefit: May be difficult to prove this is worth any kind of reward; Depends on exerting persuasion; Extremely cheap; People usually believe worst
Base idea: Stripper party
- Determine paladin’s base of operations
- Find and rent ladies of negotiable virtue to turn up at paladin’s base and make a scene
- Some need to supervise without revealing who is behind it; probably some gossip-mongering.
- cost/benefit: Some basic snooping and negotiation; Possible loss of reputation; Relatively little danger; Relatively cheap.
Base idea: Ultimate complicated set of staged events ending with paladin chasing sheep while sexually aroused
- Spread rumour about a local noble’s return to her estate, requiring a respectable attendance
- Arrange bath-house scene where paladin bathes, is mobbed by strippers, flees in a predetermined sheep-ward path
- Find and set up bath-house, strippers, sheep, trick towel, onlookers, etc.
- cost/benefit: Requires paladin to follow script without any one of a number of steps to go wrong. A number of actual costs.
Once the other three caution Cauleigh that his idea (guess which!) is not likely to be the choice, they set down some research steps needed and split tasks up as follows:
- Fennec will look for a bath-house
- Crompton will find out about ladies of negotiable virtue
- Cauleigh will both: look for the paladin’s base and
- - find out what local estate might fit his story (who and where)
- Jotunn will find out about both Palgwyth law and governance (who and how)
They walk Palgwyth in search of information
Fennec [failing his L1 LK SR] spends a good deal of time sauntering the town’s main street, lloking for a bath-house, keeping one eye open for approaching paladin. He sees neither. Repairing to the Wizard’s Guild he wines and dines a couple of the fellows. They rejoice in their own club having its own bath-house and care not whether or no Palgwyth has one. Fennec returns to his inn by evening.
Crompton [making his L1 LK SR] turns back up at the Rogue’s Guild rooms, and chats to the lads over a pint. He jots down details of a local bawd named Sally who houses the type of girl he is looking for. An easy day for Crompton, he returns to the inn for a noon meal.
Jotunn looks for the types of men he is comfortable among and finds his way east, outside the wall, to a broken-down cantina run by crusty old Moss Icely. Easing his way among the strange types – be they road-wardens or bounty-hunters – Jotunn pays for enough drinks to loosen tongues. He gets the traveller view of local law. There is a chief constable of some kind, and a mayor who has to balance affairs between Lady Balas on the one hand and the guildsmen on the town council on the other. A relatively expensive [based on LK SR] and long outing for Jotunn, he returns to his inn by late afternoon.
Word arrives that his boots are ready at the cobbler’s, but wisely he decides not to go on his own [and gains 5 AP].
Cauleigh has an eventful morning. He doesn’t even get time to tie down definite information about Lady Balas’ estate [though a L1 LK SR does point to this as the obvious choice]. He begins by calling back in on the Changer who held their reward, and asking about the paladin. The Changer is just as curious! It seems the paladin, Alintar the Just, is a recent arrival from the west, and no record of seal of nobility (or patent) is known. No-one in Rothway, the next city on, has been able to supply any information about him. The Changer provides Cauleigh with Alintar’s address, and mentions ‘a few bully-boys’ who guard Alintar’s gear. Information on either the seal or a defined noble crest on a saddle (for example) is worth 20 in gold. And since Cauleigh has taken it this far, the Changer will hold the offer exclusively for two days before opening it to general reward. Thanking his source Cauleigh hastens back to the inn to share what he has learned.
Crompton, the only other comrade there at the time, is recruited by Cauleigh to help explore the paladin’s address the same evening. And the next surprise is: it’s the town’s free hospital, a religious establishment where it looks as though Alintar is staying for free. The pair [failing L1 LK SR] bump straight into three bully-boys sitting around guarding one of the many cottages that make up the hospital. After much waiting to be examined [and an excellent CHR SR] Cauleigh confirms this information from a tired and lean friar. Meanwhile, Crompton finds a stables where a fourth guard is guarding one specific stall.
They return to the inn and sup on the remains of the evening’s fare.
The information is fashioned into a plan
The various pieces are coming together. No-one begrudges dropping their pet scheme. The plan involves the following steps:
- Negotiate with Mistress Sally and hire a pair of doxies to cat-fight just outside the hospital grounds near the three bully-boys. A third doxy shall distract the stable guard.
- Using these distractions, search the paladin’s cottage, and inspect his horse.
- Depending on what they find the Lordsman will be given a stolen seal or news of an absence of such, thus allowing him to challenge Alintar quite safely. 500 gold thank you.
- Not forgetting to collect the 20 for information given before leaving town.
And the plan is implemented
Mistress Sally suggests four girls for 16 gold and the bargain is struck. And immediately renegotiated once the girls in question drag themselves out of bed. A sharp young piece elects herself spokesperson, but her mind is quick and her arrangements well thought out, so her employers don’t begrudge the extra silver.
Jotunn guides a surly wench around to the stables. She duly distracts the guard, lures him out, and Jotunn finds a fine mount, memorises the brand, notes the lack of crests on the saddle and tack, and leaves.
Team burglar sneak around and confirm that the guards are well away from their post. With the aid of Fennec’s magic [after Crompton breaks a lockpick] they enter Alintar’s garret. It is absent of magic. They find an impressive set of lamellar armour, a pair of intimidating boots, buff-leather under-armour, and various belongings suggesting a travelling man. The pick of the finds are a sheaf of paper, ink, and a scroll-case with what appears to be a patent lineage duly sealed. Fennec’s magic reveals that it is heavily reworked – a forgery!
The sharp youngster yells the signal that Alintar is returning so, taking the precaution of re-locking the room, they flee with the scroll-case and forged seal of nobility.
It is still early (for the Lordsman) when the four pranksters disturb his meditations. They explain, and hand over the forged seal. Pushing aside his favourite naked muse the Lordsman hurls a sack of 500 gold casually down and warns them not to disturb his holy rituals so casually.
20 gold collected from the Changer for the excellent information, the four gear up, pick up new boots from the cobbler’s and leave Palgwyth.
And they bid a swift farewell to Palgwyth
A short time later they have passed out the east gate of Palgwyth – where the guards are efficient, but do not pay them any special attention – and are making their way through the usual daytime road traffic of local producers and peddlers, and longer-distance merchants. Drumming hoofbeats are heard behind.
The road-goers crowd to one side or another as Alintar flees Palgwyth, wearing parts of his armour and clutching the remaining parts over his saddle. The dust settles as he disappears to the west.
“You know, we’re going the same way – we might run into him again.”
“We might even become his nemeses – each time he sets up, we arrive!”
Cheered by this, the four break their journey and fast at the next hamlet, then set out once more westward.
Highlights for me were the willingness of players to work along with different ideas, and that I was reasonably successful in 'failing forward.' This is a modern concept that my old players would not recognise from my classic T&T or T&T7 days. Of all the characters, only Cauleigh has pushed LK up to the point where L1 is fairly likely. I try to let the story speak from success and failure, and the principle for failure is 'make it more interesting.' We are not up to 'succeed but...' yet, though I will try to find a consistent way for those principles to be applied as we go along.
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Post by warlord476 on Jun 25, 2016 20:15:12 GMT -5
TI1.06.5: Rothway, where sounds the fife and drum This is the last third of Thursday’s game. While there wasn’t a lot to it, I enjoyed fleshing out Rothway as I see it in this age. I have a map of it, but that is set in a much earlier time.
Westward? Yes, westward!
The four reach a finger-post. South points to somewhere named Tiriath-embar, west is Rothway. They pause. The fortified spires of Tiriath-embar can be glimpsed to the south.
“This post is less impressive than that massive granite thing outside Palgwyth.”
“Yeah, now… which way were we going again?”
The stream of traffic reminds them that they are westward-bound, on the River Way. So west they go.
A new and martial note sounds in Nan Roth
They become distinctly aware they are in a different realm. While the land around Palgwyth was well-tended, Nan Roth is intensively cultivated. Its hedgerows are well-maintained, its ditches obviously scoured each year.
Not only that! They are also swiftly aware of the gaze of hard-eyed mounted soldiers: mercenaries by their blank-buff-and-canvas. The “borderland” between Balas and Nan Roth is patrolled thoroughly, it seems.
Nor does much time elapse before they witness a group of pikemen, practicing keeping to formation at the run. And they hear off in the distance the disjointed pop-pop..pop-pop-pop...pop! of a stand of gunnes at targets.
Rothway soon looms in the growing shadow like some juggernaut of the Vale. This is no wall hastily thrown up as the enemy approaches: ancient, high and well-bastioned are Rothway’s walls! At this time of day produce-sellers stream back home, and city-dwellers and travelers hasten inside the walls. Not surprisingly, the crowd bottlenecks, and pie-men and pot-men ply a brisk trade. The Dwarves tamp down their appetites with this simple fare, and make their way through the gates.
Excitedly, they seek the street of armour-smiths
Save for Fennec – and even he is happy to examine options – they have all been looking forward to finding quality smiths while they have money to spend. So wasting no time, still cumbered by packs and weaponry, they search out the street of armour-smiths.
The street is a-bustle with mercenaries, looking at weapons and armour. They get their first close-up look at one of the matchlocks the local mercenaries use: much like an arbalest-stock, but with no steel bow or stirrup, and a tube where the quarrel would lie. Morions and burgonets are much the fashion in helmets, and back-and-breast steel.
Crompton lays his lamellar coat in for repair, and avoids a roguish proposal from a journeyman to rent something light in the meantime. Cauleigh buys a peaked morion and sets money down for a breastplate. The smith tells him to send word back of his lodgings once he finds some, as he will need several fittings as the armour is shaped. Jotunn decides on much the same helmet. Fennec examines a few types of fabric and decides to stick with what he has.
The Modest Goose and a rumoured rivalry
They have by now gathered that the first big horse-fair of the year starts within a week. Rothway is crowded, and they are glad to take up a rear-facing room in a mid-priced inn. The Modest Goose is to be their home for as long as it takes to buy good armour and earn some more for the next leg of the road. They agree to pay for the week, therefore.
Cauleigh invests two gold coins, slipping them in front of the inn’s ale-puller as he tends the well-polished bar. The barkeep retails what he knows of the mercenaries. The way he hears it, their ultimate employer is a woman named Sasha Orc-slayer, said to be a dark-haired beauty, who has the confidence of Lord Roth.
Cauleigh agrees he knows of Lord Roth from processions glimpsed in Esgaroth, but little else.
Tis also said, continues the barkeep, that Sasha’s ‘brotherhood’ has only one rival power: the Guild (so called) which does not retain a mercenary army but has some power or other.
Interesting. Cauleigh passes this along.
It has been a long and busy day, and so they sleep soundly.
A division of tasks for the new day
Information, of course, is the order of the next day. Since this is a large and unknown town the four post-Palgwyth pranksters pair up.
Fennec, guarded by Cauleigh, will enquire about the local Wizard’s Guild, in and around the municipal buildings, in Rothway central.
Jotunn, with Crompton keeping a weather-eye out, will make his way around the stables and horse-grounds of the city west, asking about the brand he learned on Alintar’s steed.
Naturally, any one of them hearing of possible jobs will make further enquiries.
Mid-town and a clash of culture
The wizard and warrior find their way without any special difficulty to a monstrosity. Rothway’s municipal buildings are an accretion of styles from many periods. Find the right court is more of a challenge. But at length Fennec rounds a fine rotunda-style wall and comes upon a jarringly vertical portal, and enters the Rothway equivalent of general enquiries.
Here, all manner of business is being done. Merchants with the official seal are changing coin at regulated rates, for example. Among their customers are a trio of barbarically-garbed, tall, fair-skinned people: Horsebrothers.
Studying them, it strikes Fennec that these three: two broad-shouldered men, and behind them a woman: have deliberately ‘dressed up’ with barbaric garb and hair adornments. The tattoos and paint are real though. They are changing gold dust for local coins.
As it happens [failing yet another L1 LK SR] Fennec has a chance to take their measure. A soldier jostles him, and wheels around to snarl at him. The woman turns and speaks sternly in reprimand – something about Dwarves being honoured – though it’s by no means clear exactly what she’s saying – and the two men behind her nod emphatically. Then the woman bows deeply to Fennec and introduces herself and her companions. They seem to hold Dwarves in high regard! Not entirely sure what their names are through the broken language and thick accents, Fennec introduces he and Cauleigh and all is friendly.
At a reasonable fee Fennec then negotiates the bureaucracy and gains a document telling him where to find the Wizard’s Guild.
West fairs and word of Edoras
As for Jotunn and Crompton, they wander the Rothway concourse, goggling about like the newcomers they are. Crompton notices that there are the types of cutpurses about you would expect, but that there are hard-eyed mercenaries keeping the street safe as well. It’s not entirely clear whether they are city watch or some private force, but the effect is the same.
It’s a lightly wet day, but they are in no danger of slopping through mud. Unlike the Esgaroth they know, where gutters (or ‘kennels’) are archaeological in nature, the gutters here are well-maintained and run-off water is carried away from the streets.
The western half of Rothway is all ostleries and stables and horse-stalls it seems, and it’s not long before Jotunn gets some horse-sense from someone that doesn’t mind yarning.
It seems the brand on Alintar’s fine steed is of Edoras, westward along the Vale. Fine horses are bred there!
There are plenty of Horsebrothers around the west markets and the Dwarven pair get their fill of the barbaric fashion sported by these horse-rearing folk.
And so, with no further excitement or hindrance, all four reconnect at the Modest Goose and dine, and share their wisdom.
A bit of history and geography
Nan Roth survived what’s known as the Wizard Wars (ended about 7 generations ago, back when Annan was a young adventuress) very solidly, so I conjecture that it also endured the Great Wars (a piece of which Annan yarned about: ended about 2-3 generations ago, depending on which bit you are counting) in the same fashion. The Horsebrothers, AKA Horse Brothers, were once a powerful, widespread nation, south of the River, but fared poorly against the Death Goddess’ multi-arms armies and have a much smaller compass in this age. Although our four Dwarves don’t know it, the Horse Brothers had always a good relationship with the remnant of Mt. Gira Dwarves and were sheltered by them in their darkest time: so Dwarves are revered in their modern culture. Mt. Gira is where the Dwarf Way takes you if you leave Esgaroth by it and follow your nose.
Props
For Rothway I’m using EPPC (op. cit.) for the immediate inspiration for Brotherhood vs Guild. Otherwise, Rothway, Nan Roth and the Vale in general are entirely my own invention, so far as memory serves.
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Post by warlord476 on Jul 1, 2016 20:59:59 GMT -5
TI1.07: Rothway, where horse-fair buyers come Or: A short con, a short test, and a short job in Rothway
The characters for this session:
Fennec, Level 2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, Level 2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Jotunn, Level 5 warrior (background: hunter; talent: tracking)
Crompton, Level 2 rogue (background: Runebearer; talent: roguery)
Let’s go back to Smith Street!
The four pranksters of Palgwyth are aware of the need to find work. But they would prefer to wait for new armour first, and silver weapons seem like a good idea too. It’s day two in Rothway, and there’s still plenty of daylight. Fennec announces that he wants to visit the Wizard’s Guild – partly to get a recommendation to a smith that can add silver shoes to his staff without ruining it. Cauleigh and Crompton decide to head straight for the smiths’ street and look for weaponsmiths who might work in silver. So Jotunn and Fennec fall in with that idea too. It won’t do any harm to find out prices.
Introducing a short con
Looking for silver to fashion into a mace-head? Gnomefast Hamworth is a Hobb-looking sort of fellow (though possible Brownie or Gnome might be closer to the truth) who ‘just happens’ to be able to lay his hands on three pound of silver this very afternoon.
Cauleigh is suspicious but his own background, as the son of a goldsmith, should protect him from obvious fakery so he agrees. The price will only be four gold, less some change.
Meanwhile let me introduce you to a smith that can and will do that kind of work.
Master Ponderblade, lugubrious, dark-skinned, a Dwarf-like man whose smithy smells to Jotunn of war-hound. Mournfully stroking his short silky beard he agrees he can make a lump of silver into an orb-like mace-head and set a haft to it. The price he quotes Cauleigh sounds reasonable.
Crompton, who really ought to know better, is delighted and asks if an even bigger lump can be found for him, on the principle of bigger is better when it comes to silver-headed maces. Why yes, though not right away, replies master Gnomefast with a cunning grin. And the price Ponderblade quotes for that seems reasonable as well.
Asking about silver-work such as intaglio or damascene, the hunter and wizard receive a shock. That kind of work is in the hundreds, if not well over a thou. Ponderblade eases back into the recesses of his cramped smithy and emerges with a large, cruelly-curved Uruk blade, and hands it to Jotunn for inspection. Its surface is etched: once it had silver inlay. Ponderblade wonders if one of them would like to buy it, but none do.
A short jest
Jotunn wants to find a bow and talk to a smith about silver-headed arrows, but kindly puts that to one side to escort Fennec to the Wizard’s Guild. Using Fennec’s instructions-cum-map the two find their way to a place not far from the southern wall, where a tall building, fashioned of similar masonry to the wall, is accessed by means of a steep flight of stone steps.
Reassuringly, there is a door, but the steps are blocked near the top by an immensely fat, rubicund and jocular fellow.
It seems this is a test!
Fennec correctly picks a modified Hidey Hole as the spell the jester uses to make his kerchief vanish and the fattie promptly deflates to become a Leprechaun.
Jotunn will not be permitted to enter. The Leprechaun challenges him to a drinking match instead. Wary of being slipped a mickey Jotunn declines. He is bespelled and jigs his way back down the stair and away down the road.
Inside the Wizard’s Guild, Fennec finds he is welcome. There’s also a ‘job board’ they keep for members looking to earn. The witch-wolf of Palgwyth is at the low-priority end, Hippogriffs are at the high-priority end, and a ruin with corpses is in the middle. What do they pay, wonders Fennec. It turns out the first two depend on convincing some authority or other to value a job, and a ruin ‘normally pays for itself.’
The wizards warm to Fennec’s company as the good wine flows and they all compare staffs, and give him plenty of advice about where to get a ring on each end.
Fennec gathers other pieces of information, thanks the members and leaves for the time being.
Meanwhile: Cauleigh inspects the silver Gnomefast returns with. It carries the traces of an assay mark. Reassured, he pays Gnomefast, chooses what he wants his haft to be made of and hands over half the payment for the mace. Crompton agrees to return the next day for his silver.
Rumours of work
The Modest Goose is as good a place as any to listen out for jobs. This is the second evening of their stay and they exchange friendly nods with other guests, and sit down with gossiping ale-drinkers.
The gossip about the centaur has escalated, now folks are saying he’s heading for Rothway at the head of a herd (of horses) to liberate other herds.
There is some talk about corpses near a ruin, but it sounds as though they will need to find some ‘northern barbarian’ by the name of Tothras, who reported the find. Being a latecomer to the city that fellow is most likely to be staying over in the north stalls, where widow-women take in extra lodgers.
Later, Fennec confirms that this story is not bogus, so they agree it is worth following up.
The witch-wolf, being off back east, is something they might look into some other time.
As to the hippogriffs – well, Cauleigh reminds them:
“We are Dwarves! We don’t fly! Picture yourself being plucked up and dropped from a great height and ask yourself is that a job we should be trying!”
The short con concludes
Bright and early Crompton leads Cauleigh back to the smiths’ street. Gnomefast shows up as promised and pats his jerkin where the silver ingots drag the fabric down. They head round to Ponderblade’s and Crompton buys the silver.
Gnomefast smilingly departs and Ponderblade tests the ingots: reports they are mostly lead.
“I could work the silver out…” he speculates.
Crompton seizes on this: it’s better to have gained something as a sop to his injured self-esteem. There’s a debate about what can be done, but Ponderblade is commissioned to try out the ingots.
The pair head west and north, to find the north stalls.
The price of a Prince Albert
The Rothway wizards have provided Fennec with the whereabouts of the smith than can be trusted to work silver onto his staff so that’s the first order of business for he and Jotunn. Outside Parsifal & Esq. young ‘prentices are busy setting up wares. Fennec’s request for an interview leads him to meet master Parsifal – an old half-Dwarf with a very long silver beard.
The consultation provides Fennec with a quote of 200 – he gulps, but declines an option of journeyman-work for half-price.
Lighter by 100 up-front gold, he accompanies Jotunn as that worthy seeks out the bowyer recommended by Parsifal’s. Jotunn has been admiring a gunne on display in Parsifal’s – a very fine and no doubt expensive piece.
En route, they pass a fine public fountain where a group of four clerics are chanting softly. Glancing into the water, Fennec glimpses flames.
The bowyer, of course, is ‘by appointment to the House of Roth’ so Jotunn sensibly keeps walking and not too far away they find a normal bowyer whose target market is huntsmen. Jotunn buys a good ash bow, and discusses arrows.
Hound and travellers’ tales
Meanwhile, Crompton helps Cauleigh navigate the crooked side-streets of Rothway over to the north stalls. They are lean-to’s leaning on shacks and shanties that are little more than lean-to’s themselves.
Before long Cauleigh chances upon Tothras’ stall: a huge hound lunges out!
[Cauleigh reacts immediately, yelling ‘dodge’ so only needs to make L1 SPD or DEX to avoid full combat with this MR50 beast.]
The hound snags Cauleigh’s gambeson sleeve, doing no harm to the warrior but ruining the new stitching and ripping some of the padding out. At length a tiny feeble old landlady totters her way down rickety steps and helps call off ‘Pebbles’ who really just wanted to play, such a good boy.
Tothras has already headed away to the markets so southward the pair go. Their course now intersects the other pair.
Before they meet though, Cauleigh and Crompton do chance upon a tall, fair-haired and -bearded barbarian, studying a cage.
This is Tothras. It seems his people favour soft leather boots, fur-side in, cloth trousers, and woven wool shirts with finely crafted patterns. At his belt he bears a hatchet and long general-purpose dagger.
Doubtfully leaving the man in the cage to eke out his punishment rather than being put to death cleanly, Tothras and the Dwarves repair themselves to an ale-house, and glimpsing them, Fennec and Jotunn join them. Tothras is joined by another traveller from the north, Beorn by name, who testifies the exactness of his witness. Adding this to Fennec’s information the Dwarves piece this together:
It seems that just shy of Nan Roth’s northern border there is a woodland named the King’s Wood, wherein lies a ruin that must date from House Odhenas’ last occupation of the area, near or just after the close of the Wizard Wars. A track would take the traveller off the main trail, just where a marker post, possibly named the Gallows Tree, stands. The travellers saw the bodies of men, recently torn apart. The wounds might have been inflicted by a fierce beast or great weapon. A village, belonging to Nan Roth, lies south within a day of the scene.
Crompton sits, and needs a sign reading “this is a sign” before he acts
With this under their belts the Dwarves' day is near complete. Cauleigh and Jotunn betake themselves back – once again – to the smiths (and leather-workers), Fennec walks back to the Wizard’s Guild, and Crompton, who is hungry, stays there chowing down a pie.
A slim, confident man clad in armour of padded grey silk slides onto the form next to him, and gives him a tight smile. He checks that Crompton is the Dwarf Crompton from Esgaroth, son of the crime-lord, who travels with three Heroes of Tigley. His boss would like to chat!
Crompton clenches his buttocks and declines. You don’t get to choose, the grey man explains. But yeah, I do, Crompton grits. The grey man slides out again with a chuckle and leaves.
Buttocks still firmly clenched, Crompton cowers-in-plain-sight all the way back to the Modest Goose, sneaking from one group of armed mercenaries to the next! [He succeeds, using the roguery bonus!]
Fennec has a brush with death and the law
Fennec has a near-escape: he is nearly struck by the hurtling body of a woman which smacks bloodily into the street next to him. Glancing up he sees a hooded figure move nimbly from the roof to the next roof, then it is gone. He is delayed two hours explaining to the watch that being near a body doesn’t make you the murderer!
But he does eventually get back to the Wizard’s Guild, where he finishes researching the Odhenas estate. He’s also given a bit of a clue about Ikkutas information. Sarnas, which is a crossroads with the river and Aunor, is a great place to look. But he also might find odd information in editions of Travels Through the Vale, a drivelling and once-standard travelogue of a few centuries ago.
Cauleigh and Jotunn decide honest labour ain’t worth it
Cauleigh and Jotunn pass by a man dressed in a cheap padded jack, who asks if they are looking for work as watchmen. It’s steady work, though not great pay, he explains, providing them with an address near the municipal centre. Tell them Todd bill sent you – yeah, it does sound like two names, but I favour the bill.
Cauleigh gets his gambeson patched up, Jotunn consults a couple or so smiths, and with daylight to spare the pair decide to find out how much the watch pay. They head back to the centre.
Jotunn changes some money for a silver ingot, ready for the smith to try to make serviceable arrow-heads. The changer hall is emptying out smartly, with the younger men meeting girls dressed up nicely for a local festival.
Cauleigh, who is attuned (or thinks so) to the factional ebb and flow of a city, believes the ‘watch’ must be the city admin trying to hire men it can afford, in competition with the well-paid mercenaries supposedly paid for by the Brotherhood.
Their job interview suggests he might be right: a Cratchit-like city officer offers them 5 silver, but only if they can provide references.
And so all four end up working for free drinks
They are all back at the Modest Goose by nightfall of their third day. It is raining by this time. The local barkeep hires them to hold a canopy over he and his girl as he takes her out to the festival. Showing promise as a capitalist he convinces them to take the gold out in drinks.
A tale of Sasha Orc-slayer
This is the story Ponderblade shares about his Uruk-blade. According to him, this happened to him about 12 years ago. But his tale goes back years earlier to when young Sasha decides to be an adventurer, then gets sick of hanging out with guys bragging they are adventurers. She decides to do something about it. Around 12 years ago Sasha reappears from south of the river and trades in this weapon. It used to have silver on it. She carries the name ‘orc-slayer’ and says she took the sword from the Uruk that killed someone she cared about. She wears black armour, he wore white armour, something like that.
Background Vale stuff learned:
Elves as travellers appeared in the city-wandering – acting hoity-toity as they put up at the Blue Boar Inn I think – but at present they don’t form anything like a plot-point. Elves tend to hail from the northern forests. The ‘northern barbarians’ are from a mixed people that resulted when the ice-lands folk swept through Aunor (north of the Vale, separated by forest and mountain) and were thrown back from the Vale itself, with the help of the forest Elves, back in the early days of the Wizard Wars. Most of the remnant settled in Aunor, because, not ice-bound. ‘Tothras’ is an Aunori name while ‘Beorn’ is not. They did mention their fear of the fey folk.
Props
I've cited EPPC previously;
The 'ruin in the forest' comes from the Evening session maps series (Forge Studios);
I've also pitched in with 650 Fantasy City Encounter Seeds (Johnn Four, roleplayingtips.com) for some of the sights and events around Rothway
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Post by warlord476 on Jul 8, 2016 23:42:50 GMT -5
TI1.08: With streets so clean, and rule so fair [not sarcasm!] Armour up! We’re out of here!
The characters for this session:
Fennec, Level 2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, Level 2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Crompton, Level 2 rogue (background: Runebearer; talent: roguery)
Fittings are taken and final smithy work booked
Day four in Rothway finds Crompton still a-bed after some sleepless hours worrying, Jotunn already off somewhere (silver arrows perhaps) and Cauleigh and Fennec breakfasting at the Modest Goose. Neither are too sure of their schedule, but a smith’s ‘prentice arrives to tell Cauleigh his first fitting is ready. They decide to saunter over to the smith’s street together, start at the armourer’s then walk up to Parsifal’s.
Their morning is enlivened with the spectacle of the local girls who took part in last night’s festival dates ritually lashing their boyfriends, using rushes.
But, the pair reach the smith’s without hindrance. The back-plate is finished save for rivets, and a close fitting of Cauleigh’s shoulders arms and neck takes place. With a ‘probably early tomorrow’ to cheer him along Cauleigh heads off.
Since they are close to Ponderblade’s alley Cauleigh proposes they stop in. Then, Crompton catches them up. He’s hoping Ponderblade will have finished up the lead part of his club. Cauleigh’s reason is less prosaic: he’s curious to know how much that orc-blade would cost for silver to be worked back onto its etching.
“More than you can afford,” Fennec prognosticates.
Ponderblade eases back into his narrow smithy, brings the blade out, and lets the feeble light of the alley play on its etched surface. He strokes it lovingly. After musing on silver and difficulty he estimates at least 150 for the work, “more if you want the silver to stay there,” as he puts it. He’s referring to the options of pure silver or tin-silver allow and how much effort would be needed.
Cauleigh admits he doesn’t have that kind of money but hopes to, soon. “It’s not as though I’m getting offers on it,” Ponderblade comments and eases it back into wherever he keeps it.
Crompton is delighted with the club, or maul. The rough cherry branch has been transformed into a shiny black haft with red leather grips and as the lead head is still shiny silver, it looks amazing. [+2 to CHR when carried.] Ponderblade takes him through the signs of wear and tear to watch out for but says the cherry wood will last a good long while. Crompton tips him 10 gold bonus and tucking the crude silver ingot away heads for the silver-smith.
Meanwhile Fennec has been welcomed and hands over his staff. Since the work is booked in, he should expect to pick up the same evening.
Crompton catches them up again, having negotiated with the silver-smith and paid his fee. He is very hungry by now, having skipped breakfast, and munches two seed-cakes the ‘prentices hand guests.
Well pleased with these successes the trio think of other things to do.
An information broker implies what?
A stranger politely hails Cauleigh and seems interested in buying some information. This is Demūlan, dark and suave, nearing middle age, an information broker. But he gives Crompton the cold shoulder.
Uh-oh.
Agreeing that he will be at the Modest Goose that evening, Cauleigh bids him good-day and moves on.
Elves aloft, and diplomacy
As they turn into a main thoroughfare, a pair of Elves glide effortlessly past the trudging three Dwarves. Their Elven feet barely seem to touch the ground, their clothing is immaculate, and one lifts a haughty eyebrow at Fennec. He saw them on a previous day, at the up-market Blue Boar Inn.
Following their course with his eyes, Cauleigh notices the two northern barbarians, Tothras and Beorn. As the Elves pass the pair, one laughs a light rippling laugh. The barbarians react by grabbing their hatchets out!
“Stand easy lads, no need for blows!” Cauleigh tries, but his words seem to make things worse. One Elf whirls and a silent lance of light hammers into Fennec! He staggers, nearly out cold. [TTYF, 21 off CON]
Crompton hears rushing feet behind him: whirling round he finds two angry Horsebrothers rushing past him, yelling. A Horsebrother woman rushes to Fennec’s aid.
A melee is about to ensue when Cauleigh tries appealing to the Elves:
“Run for it! There’s no call for blood to be shed!”
Luckily these particular Elves have no chivalrous tradition. [Cauleigh makes his LR CHR SR] One takes to the air, the other dodges nimbly between the barbarians and darts away into an alley.
Once he is sure Fennec is alive, Cauleigh introduces the two sides to one another. The Horsebrothers have horses for sale, though they are here to buy in breeding stock, and the northerners aren’t fussy, so they head west.
Cauleigh and Crompton see that Fennec is under care of the woman, who will take him to ‘her camp’ so cheerfully head west after the barbarians.
Horse trader, and uh-oh again.
Although the horse-fair has not officially begun, deals are already being done. Cauleigh notices a horse-trader selling three mounts to an officer. The officer wears better gear than the hard-bitten riders they’ve seen outside Rothway; and carries a pistol at his waist-sash.
Cauleigh waits for the deal to conclude then admires the mounts and talks to the trader. Who again, cold-shoulders Crompton.
Privily, Cauleigh learns that word has gone around that Crompton is not to be trusted.
Well, there are ways of mending fences and Cauleigh advises Crompton to do just that.
From this point on, Crompton is on the look-out for a rogue, or at the very least an urchin who will know a rogue. His proactive attempt towards that falls flat, as he tries a crass gold-piece advance to an urchin, who simply runs away with it. [A near-miss on L1 SPD SR. As a fail-forward I offer Crompton the option of catch, but have clothing muddied. He opts to lose the gold.]
Crompton then tries the ‘sit in that place I was first approached in’ but apart from enjoying the pie, gets nowhere.
Rumours and cards and information-broking
With a bit of time to kill Cauleigh returns to the Modest Goose, plays cards with a few other travellers, and picks up word of the road west. He learns a little about Fingold, the next great estate, or realm, west. It sounds more medieval and draconically-run than Rothway. There are other options, such as travelling south of the river and around.
A steel-breasted soldier, not young, approaches him. This is Salk, a veteran of foot. He’d like to buy Cauleigh and Jotunn’s story about Tigley, if that’s all right. Cauleigh proposes instead that Salk introduce him to the person that really wants to know, and collect a finder’s fee. Salk says he’ll bring another soldier back with him, and conclude the deal, this evening.
A Horsebrother shaman, honour and shroom powders
Fennec stumbles south, out of Rothway’s walls, to the camp of the Horsebrothers. Hundreds of horses and dozens of individual campfires! The woman – who as far as Fennec has ever learned, is named Sky over rim – heads for a large, bleached, well-decorated tepee. A shaman, she explains in her terrible Vale-common, will help Fennec.
The wizened shaman has a near-colloquial grasp of Dwarf-tongue and explains the debt the Horsebrothers have to the Gira Dwarves. But all Dwarves are given honour. He breaks out some powder, tells Fennec to take some each half-day, and warns him it is powerful.
Fennec enjoys watching his fingers then passes out, waking up about three hours later with his head in Sky over rim’s lap, and her fingers stroking his forehead. And a monster headache. She brings him a Horsebrother version of a painkiller draft, and he soon feels well enough to walk back to the Modest Goose.
Meet Sasha Orc-slayer, boss of the Brotherhood
Demūlan calls in, and sells Cauleigh 6 gold coins’ worth of information about the Brotherhood – very much what he’s heard before – and 6 more about the basics of Guild power. Apparently a merchant factor named Vasily – who is foreign – has built a network of merchant houses with links to a number of cities. Vasily plans to portray Sasha as such a threat that she will lose Lord Roth’s trust. Fennec comes over all xenophobic and suggests a number of sinister reasons for Vasily plotting, but Cauleigh is more sanguine. Neither can see any immediate gain for themselves.
In good time, Salk and his younger comrade-in-arms Parro arrive. They have a deal, and escort Cauleigh and Fennec across Rothway. They chat amicably for the most part. It seems the brotherhood mercenaries are ready for any action west, though north east or south might also prove to be the trouble. If Cauleigh’s looking for work, the Roth docks, not far south, are always looking for good watchmen.
Their path has taken them to the south-west quarter, into streets that Cauleigh and Fennec can’t help noticing have more than their share of fully-armed mercenaries just chancing to lean against corners, and urchins in top stories idly dangling their legs and watching below. The streets open to a common court, and an old sturdy wood-built great-house or manor house. They are nodded through, passing outer chambers where women are cleaning and seeing to normal chores, then into a rush-strewn great hall.
Here Sasha holds court, so to speak, with her lieutenants. A great dark table, a lord’s seat beyond, and Sasha, brunette and still striking despite her forty-something years, sits on the seat’s arm and toys with her matched curved blades at the table, spinning them on their points. An old scar cuts a fine diagonal line across her brow and down her left cheekbone, but doesn’t harm her looks, and she has both her eyes.
“Orcs were my sketches… since then I have learned master-strokes. But one took from me a man I had just come to love, and though I took that Orc’s blade I can’t forgive him!”
Obviously, she wants word of the white-armoured Urukin they saw in the Deep near Tigley, and between them Fennec and Cauleigh do a good job of recalling all they can.
In return, they gain better, clearer word of Fingold the next great place, and Sarnas the key river-city where Fennec can expect to find some word of Ikkutas.
Crompton gets his silver-headed maul and Fennec his staff
Tiring of watching for someone who won’t appear Crompton has since returned to the Goose, and agrees to walk over to smith’s street with Fennec at his convenience.
En route, they hear a scream, just after Fennec glimpses a hooded figure gliding along rooftops and out of sight. Murder!
Ignoring that, they push on and Crompton is soon armoured again in his well-repaired lamellar, and collects his fine silver-plated maul from the silver-smith.
Fennec calls in on Parsifal’s again, pays the remainder, and collects his staff. They head back.
Rogues and apologies
The murder scene has been warded off, and a crowd has built up. Crompton watches for a pick-pocket. And spots one. He taps his shoulder politely.
“GAAH!!”
The thief jumps with shock, and runs, and those nearby check their wallets. Two are grateful for Crompton’s interference and the third wishes he’d got his wallet back before the thief fled.
Crompton has had an inspiration! He heads back to the dodgy gambeson-rental man, and asks for his help apologising to the powers that be. It works!
The rogue leads him to the manor house Fennec and Cauleigh have already visited. Crompton is admitted to see Sasha. She allows an apology as long as it is profound, so Crompton gets down and knocks head – after all none of his comrades are watching!
Silver arrows sorted – we’re ready to go!
Day five dawns. Fennec has had a good sleep after taking yester-eve’s powder, and is merely a tad morose.
Cauleigh picks up his back-and-breast, quality armour and ready in a shorter time than estimated. The smith tries to up-sell him on pauldrons, but he resists.
Jotunn has been about his silver-arrow testing and has a sheaf of them. Crompton reminds him that he’d like to take over the silver-head bolts, and Jotunn generously sets a very low price on them.
They make final plans for the journey north, to the ruin. Jotunn has been too busy to get armour fitted so he buys (or rents) a sturdy brigantine jack to go over his gambeson. All of them purchase a number of days’ worth of waybread, since there’s no guarantee they won’t be stuck in bad weather at some point. Speaking of that, they decide to buy a cloak each, to keep the rain off.
Boots and clothing and weapons are inspected. Crompton, with a great axe and maul and belt weapons and crossbow is feeling a little overloaded, but reassures himself that he can always ‘drop some of it’ as he gets into action.
They pass through the north gate, spotting a pair of ponies there. This is a topic they’ve discussed, but as Cauleigh reminds them, if they did buy some then travel to the ruin,
“Who’s going to mind them?”
A Dwarf wench has dimples, not a beard
The remainder of the morning, under clear grey skies, gets them to a walled village amid the usual well-tended, well-drained Nan Roth fields. This is Haislithveit, essentially a Dwarf place. There is but one tap-house, where a bustle of wagons, carts, dray-horses and the like allows the four adventurers to find a bench without remark.
A pot-wench finds them and Cauleigh immediately strikes up a pleasant rapport. Curse you Cauleigh and your 11 CHR! Her name is Baubri, which as she points out nearly rhymes with Cauleigh. She dimples charmingly as she tells him she’s sure she can see to whatever Cauleigh needs. [Cauleigh is allowed an open CHR SR but with no AP. He gets the best roll of the session, getting to L4, so I rule that if he can parlay that into something relevant he can take AP.] But before he can move to asking Baubri for anything further, the session ends.
Props
Cities & Towns III from Art of War Games is the source for most if not all the little hamlets and villages the Dwarves will enter. It seems to fit the Vale backdrop better than the first two in the series, so expect to see it mentioned again.
Benjamin Gerber, Encounters-plots-places (trollitc.com/) once again provides some NPCs. Vasily, suitably shifted to Rothway, comes from it, and I’ve mentioned Sasha already.
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Post by warlord476 on Jul 16, 2016 1:31:49 GMT -5
The characters for this session:
Fennec, Level 2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, Level 2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Jotunn, Level 5 warrior (background: hunter; talent: tracking)
Fear not the Hobgoblins, just be precise
We rejoin our heroes in the small but perfectly-walled hamlet Haislithveit, as they chow down at the local. Fennec realises he hasn’t taken his powders yet, and does so. Cauleigh is making good time with Baubri the dimpled and pretty serving-wench, and just as Fennec is about to say something cutting to ruin Cauleigh’s fun, the drug kicks in and the wizard face-plants into his pie. [Rolls a 3 on CON]
This creates a three-hour pause. Cauleigh learns that the Hobgoblin village near the northern border of Nan Roth is home to the charcoal-burners who service Rothway, so there is no need to circle round it. But be precise! Hobgoblins are very literal and need exactness in speech. [This relevant piece of information allows Cauleigh to pick up his L4 CHR SR AP!]
Once Fennec is mobile again (headache aside) they hit the road in blustery and occasionally wet weather. It’s well past noon so they overnight in another village a few hours later, choosing to get to the Hobgoblins in broad daylight thanks.
Something Crompton drinks there makes him very abstracted – almost as though he’s not there. Fennec takes him under his wing and pushes him gently along the road when he slows.
Destone, where Hobgoblins are what they say they are, literally
Destone is a tiny place, dominated by a monstrous oak tree. Its few dozen buildings favour the dome, an unusual choice for these parts. Few Hobgoblins are in evidence: just some gaffers sitting in the morning sun. Dark, broad shoulders, slant dark eyes, short and silky beards. Ponderblade is of similar size and beard, and they wonder if he is a Hobgoblin. The mighty oak tree is at the hamlet’s centre and the buildings form a rough square around it.
The only active place to be seen is a tap-room, open to the square. Once they are seated on one of the clean benches there, a pot-boy (of middle age) finishes dealing with his three customers and greets them.
Fennec recollects the need to be very precise, saving some time. (Cauleigh tends to ask open questions, which can lead off anywhere.) They decide on various bits of cooked pig and a couple of different ales. Jotunn chooses double helpings of both. (Jotunn’s player has chosen to play up to his enormous CON, which is fun.)
As they ask as to the path north, Emren the hamlet’s elder introduces himself. He is human, and they learn a little of the circumstance that brought a small community of Hobgoblins here to replace folk who fled.
More practically, they also learn a small amount about the ruin and the danger there. Hobgoblins have stopped burning charcoal for Rothway, because of the dead men seen on the trail into the King’s Forest. The only sign of what may have done the terrible damage was a footprint left on a broken charcoal mound – a footprint as long as a short sword.
They decide that the first pass at the ruin will simply be a scouting mission. They ask Emren about accommodation, and he tells them the only accommodation is with Accommodation Girl, in Rose Cottage.
Accommodation Girl is, as far as they can work out, the hamlet’s prostitute. Her name is Rose, possibly because she lives in a house completely swathed in roses. Inside, tendrils of rose sway gently over the several beds. Crompton is put to bed – he seems quite pleased – and they stow armour or packs. Rose talks softly to her roses and they descend to cover the gear. Fennec is intrigued!
Freed from packs and extra weapons the trio make good time north and then north-east, and find the main marker, known as the gallows pole. A trail leads north-west off the path, into the thickets of the King’s Forest. Jotunn takes the lead, but the trail tells him nothing.
After some quarter-hour they reach the edge of a clearing and look north to see the remains of a defensive gate. The wall on either side is so crumbled that it could be clambered over easily by any fit agile Dwarf. Trees have grown up here and there across the clearing, but a mound and ruined keep can be seen beyond the gate. There’s also a suggestion of a very ruined building half-right, above where the ground drops away.
Scouting the ruin finds a guard
The trio skirt the clearing, staying within the treeline, hearing nothing of note above the gusting wind in the trees. They get a reasonably clear picture of the ruin. There are two other ruinous buildings below the keep. The best place to infiltrate out of sight of the keep is left of the gate, where trees have grown up on either side of the crumbled wall.
Jotunn is elected for this and scouts the interior, while Fennec and Cauleigh keep him covered. Jotunn learns little more, except that there’s a foot-trail off the path that runs between gate and keep-mound.
It’s quite late, so he heads back. As he bundles himself over the wall he’s slam-tackled by a gargoyle that dislodged from the nearest gate-pillar!
Combat!
Fennec throws down with a L2 TTYF, which saves Jotunn, who decides not to count double armour as is his right. (He’s wearing a rental!) 31 off CON nonetheless.
Cauleigh arrives with a nimble vault and leap (first use of magic gloves!) to smash down on the gargoyle, and the fight is quickly over. Cauleigh’s nifty silver-headed mace fits so well in his grip that while using it he cannot fumble while stunting, which is very cool. The mace-head is a little bent out of shape though.
They make swift time back to Destone, and rest up. Fennec shrewdly suspects Rose has some ability beyond moving rose vines, and asks. Sure enough, she can use her roses to trade their vampiric power for healing. Jotunn has a choice of losing STR or losing WIZ and chooses WIZ. It is slower but safer for a warrior. [It is 1:1, since I’m interested in the story not in penalising characters that get hurt.]
A second pass clears the upper works
Two dawns later all four Dwarves set off for a first real attempt, fully-geared-up. Crompton will be baggage-minder. The other three drop packs and spare weapons off with him at the gallows pole and head in.
Alert to a second gargoyle – they paid attention to Emren’s opinion that gargoyles are often found in pairs – they set up well. Fennec’s OTIS reveals the second gargoyle but its cover, the gate pillar, prevents them hurting it. Cauleigh goes in as decoy…
Combat!
This time Cauleigh’s fine steel breastplate saves him from any damage, and with a TTYF, a successful bow-shot from Jotunn, and his own readiness, the gargoyle is neutralised then slain.
They extend their search further, and as they near the mound’s stair – an easy climb where some previous baron has decided a proper military ramp is inconvenient – are attacked again!
Combat!
This challenge is about toughness. The two Tigran are very similar to Wulfan, but bigger and stronger. Failing a CON SR allows the Tigrans to knock a character over and fight with an advantage.
Jotunn is rammed off his feet by the pouncing Tigran [rolls a 3] but Cauleigh and Fennec deal with the second then come to Jotunn’s aid before he can be hurt.
However, this has nearly tapped Fennec out, so rather than heading in further with a no-spell wizard they declare his 15-minute working day over and head back to Destone.
Hobgoblins are willing to offer gold, so let's do it!
Emren visits them as Cauleigh polishes his scarred breastplate back up, and talks to Fennec. The Hobgoblins are concerned about the days lost, and Rothway has sent him a note as well. Destone is prepared to go as far as a 10 gold piece reward! As Fennec seems hesitant, Emren throws in an offer of something the Hobgoblins brought from their ancestral lands. Unnamed, but valuable to a Wizard. Evidence is required though – a head of something huge enough to sunder bodies for example.
Jotunn makes the acquaintance of Lizard Hunter, the only Hobgoblin that does not use established paths around the forest (and the source of a non-pig option on the pub menu!) Jotunn gets a valuable tip on a simpler way to get to the north end of the clearing.
Back once more at the ruin on the morrow, the trio bring Crompton up with the baggage. [This happens repeatedly: assume Crompton is within hailing distance from now on.] Exploring cautiously again, and down the side-path, they next meet a small community of brownies or similar illkin of that size and disposition. Cauleigh negotiates with them but is not entirely successful. One slips away towards the mound…
Wasting no time the trio hastily ascend the mound by a decayed side-ramp and are in time for Cauleigh to hark by a broken gap in the keep wall and hear the brownie’s feet tapping down a stone stair. [L4 LK SR on an open ended roll!]
Fennec bravely proposes the old OGA bait trick, and as the Troll squeezes its shoulders out of the stair, he and Jotunn scramble over the rubble, and the spell is thrown. Jotunn acts as his shield and Cauleigh vaults into action at the same time!
Combat!
The question for this combat is whether the Troll can be prevented from its single-minded attack on Fennec. It is big enough to punch a Dwarf off his feet unless thoroughly beaten.
A little spite damage is suffered but the Dwarves get into action in a coordinated defence-attack, and Fennec is unharmed. Two more rounds and the Troll lies in pieces… which begin regrowing.
Fennec uses a Bic Flic (the fire part of It’s Elemental) to scorch the neck flesh of the troll’s severed head, and all that remains is to loot the ruin!
The dungeon, in summary
Well, not quite. The ruin above-ground has nothing at all of interest, but below ground there are a number of interesting features.
Feature 1: Troll leavings
The Troll seems to have preferred a comfortable clay bed with no ornament, but in a chamber opposite lie remains of people it ate. The Dwarves pick up three arm-rings and a few rings.
Feature 2: Curiously clear font with family crest
A T-junction has at its head a font set in the wall. The water in it is clear, and a family crest can be clearly seen through it. Testing it shows it is neither flammable nor acid.
Feature 3: Runes are bait for a trap
The left passage leads to an arch through to a chamber where a plinth and pedestal’s remains can be glimpsed but large runes are set in the stone passage below the arch. None of the Dwarves recognise the runes. Suspicious minds spot chip-marks around the plinth where a heavy circular iron cage has slammed down repeatedly. With little effort the trap’s lever is located and the trap switched off, but the room holds nothing of value.
Feature 4: A second font
A very similar T-junction has a very similar or identical font at its head.
Feature 5: Pit chamber
The left passage from that T-junction opens to a chamber whence can be sensed a darkness. Fennec detects something, and his spell is enough for the Wight to attack! However all three are ready with silver weaponry and the Wight does not get to contact range.
The pit the Wight has guarded for who knows how long contains an ancient perished leather satchel. Cauleigh is lowered and raised, bringing it back up. It holds a book, and clinking silver. Fennec retrieves his backpack and stows the book and silver there.
Feature 6: Troll store
The Troll stored meat taken on the road. The chamber is not cold enough to preserve the bodies of men and half a horse, so a putrid stench hangs over it.
Feature 7: Mysterious chamber of silvered design
At the far end of the same corridor that contained the Wight’s pit, a silvered inlay can be seen in the floor of a partly-collapsed chamber. One side of the chamber is covered in a great web.
All three react as a giant spider jumps but Fennec is not quite quick enough [misses L1 DEX SR]. Luckily this spider is a smaller, weaker type than the one they fought in Dudney Chasm, and he shrugs off the poison [L2 CON SR].
Feature 8: Pool of the Hydra
Something slithers back into a large chamber. In it can be glimpsed a dark pool, as well as the other half of that horse, and though the hour grows late they make plans for what might come out of it. Fennec moves a Will-o-Wisp in to hover over the pool and Cauleigh ignites his lantern oil and successfully lobs it to float burning atop the water.
Combat!
This challenge is about delivering enough shock damage to prevent the Hydra activating its breath weaponry. The Dwarves manage to do this and Fennec sears the Hydra necks again to prevent regrowth.
Feature 9: Bombed-out summoning chamber
One side of the Hydra’s great chamber is pierced by a broad archway. Beyond is a pillared circular rostrum or plinth, but whatever was at the centre of it has been obliterated at some distant time. Fennec speculates that a Hellbomb may have caused the damage.
Feature 10: Treasure with a nasty little trap
The far end of the Hydra’s chamber is littered with ancient crates and chests. The metalware has corroded beyond value but some baled silk’s inner core has remained undamaged enough to salvage.
These chests and crates cover a small niche-entrance and two sturdy caskets can be seen beyond. Suspicious minds think that is too convenient and detect the presence of a trapdoor that has to be crawled over to get inside the chamber. The trip-latch is found and made safe, and the two casks recovered. They are heavy enough to contain plenty of coin.
And feeling extremely pleased with their first ruin, the four Dwarves retreat bearing:
- Troll head
- Hydra head (just one)
- Two hefty caskets
- Remains of a bale of silk
- Silver, various, plus rings and garnets
- Book
Props
Destone comes from Cities and Towns III though Accommodation Girl is inspired by a random draw from the Rural Encounters deck. I used the vampiric roses creatively as a way to supply healing. The monsters of the ruin come from &Magazine's Dungeon Builder randomiser, though the brownies are my idea. The forest, clearing and ruin itself comes from and is a remarkably close version of the Evening Session Map 1.
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Post by warlord476 on Jul 24, 2016 2:07:45 GMT -5
TI1.10: Delving the debatableThe Characters for this session:
Fennec, Level 2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, Level 2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Jotunn, Level 5 warrior (background: hunter; talent: tracking)
Crompton, Level 2 rogue (background: Runebearer; talent: roguery)Caskets of money: These two sturdy caskets endured the century or more of damp dungeon easily. Crompton makes a good L3 DEX SR (with roguery) and opens them without wrecking the locks. Total cash immediately: 1060 gold, 20 silver. Later, Cauleigh is offered 50 silver for the pair by one of his traveller friends from the Modest Goose, and accepts the deal.The book: Fennec’s book is one of the Travels through the Vale volumes but the endpapers have some notes about Ikkutas. This is the first Ikkutas ‘clue’ found in the wild. He hangs onto the book, or possibly leaves it at the Modest Goose, we didn’t discuss it.Silver plate: Most of the satchel of silverware is House Othenas plate, worth more to a collector than for intrinsic value. (Fennec’s sketched floor designs are also House Othenas.) Cauleigh invests 25 silver in taking one of Rothway’s assayers to lunch, and gets a referral to a Changer who collects that stuff. He gets an excellent price, 1000 gold. The Changer also helps identify the tankard.Dwarf Tankard: Unlike the Othenas plate, which takes a lot of polishing, a tankard of Dwarf design and bearing small Dwarf runes still gleams untarnished. It has a vague magic aura. Crompton identifies the runes as most likely Gira Dwarf origin. The Changer identifies the metal as mithril, and suggests offering it to an armorer if they don’t have a Gira Dwarf buyer. They offer it to Parsifal & Esq. and trade it for an off-the-rack Arquebus.Rings: These are run of the mill rings. Cauleigh makes a good bargaining CHR SR and the assayer gives him 15 gold.Arm-rings: More than one person identifies them as Northern Barbarian origin. The four delvers of Destone decide to hang onto them. Unluckily they do not meet Tothras or Beorn, who went home by a different route than the Troll-haunted Destone path.Eight garnets: This is an easy one, because Cauleigh’s own background allows him to spot the tiny merchant mark etched into each. Merchant-marked gems used to be common in Esgaroth and are still in use. Each garnet has a standardised value of 10 gold. The four split them evenly.Hobgoblin reward: Aside from the ten gold, which is spent getting back to Rothway, the grateful villagers of Destone hand over an heirloom, a globe-type bottle. It is magical, of communication school. Fennec makes a good CHR SR among his Wizard Guild colleagues: they recognise the item as being something that one of the Death Goddess’ commanders would have used to speak remotely to his Hobgoblin minions. They recommend Fennec sell it to an Alchemist, and he does so, for 135 gold.Silk: A mercer is recommended and buys the bolt of silk for 50 gold.Gearing up in Rothway is completeRothway’s horse fair concluded before they got back, and they hear a yarn about a Hippogriff attack and the amazing actions of two Elves who turned the attack back.Jotunn gets his breastplate completed and hands back his rented coat. He also test-fires the Arquebus, strikes up a conversation with mercenaries at the targets, and gets a nice deal on powder, shot and a monopod stand.Fennec brings up the matter of buying spells: the others agree to chip in 200 gold apiece, if the spell is Poor Baby. And that’s what Fennec buys.Our delver heroes are detained four days in all – because Cauleigh is paying Ponderblade to inlay that Ork-blade with silver and Fennec is learning the spell – and tensions begin to build around them. On the one hand, Sasha has goodwill towards them (or at least that’s what Crompton’s rogue acquaintance says) but they are now a tempting target. On the other hand, a merchant factor named Vasily would like to speak to them…Cauleigh pays top price for a Parsifal journeyman to wire-wrap the sword’s hilts and Ponderblade offers to escort them out of Rothway and around to the west where they can set out on the River Way once more... for 20 gold. Ponderblade keeps a gigantic dog named Snuggles, which helps explain why he can’t afford a much better smithy. Snuggles is as big as a large pony: they leave with no problem.And with no regrets about missing the chance to play Sasha vs Vasily factions, it’s time to move on.Baron Burchardt, bastardy, and the missing taxesIt takes the Destone delvers about a week to traverse broad and rich Nan Roth using the River Way and they learn little more about the lands immediately west than they did in Rothway. There are two ancient estates, V’laskas being a minor presence and Quisinias covering the majority of the land to the Fingold border. Quisinias is riven with internal strife between up to four house septs, and it sounds as though V’laskas is much the same. “Look poor, pay the tolls, don’t get mistaken for spies” is the friendly advice. Bounty-type jobs might be on offer: there are all kinds of illkin filtering in from the north.This is the period immediately before first shearing, and from all over western Nan Roth flocks are being gathered. The adult sheep have survived all winter and are impressively woolly. Wool-buyers’ carts roll towards Rothway.Nan Roth’s western border is marked with vigorous patrolling by Rothway’s mounted troops and exercising by Rothway’s pike and shot bands. Bidding farewell to by far the best-regulated land they have ever known, the four trudge on in indifferent, drizzling weather, along a River Way that is no longer so well-maintained.An unwalled hamlet offers a midday stop. A wagon wheel signals cart repair, a green frond a place to sleep, and a barley sheaf an ale-wife. It’s the ale they make for. The ale-wife tells them that they are in V’laskas lands, and gossips, slightly nervously, about the strange obsession of the local baron, Burchardt.“He’s got a bee in his bonnet about bastards! He was born on the wrong side of the blanket, so they say. Everything’s the fault of bastards and if you are a bastard, I don’t fancy your chances. Though they do say he’s got no umm, patenty thingy and might not be a real baron!”“But he’s got men at arms?” Cauleigh asks cynically, “So he’s real enough.”By this time, three of the four are low in cash, especially Fennec, so are on the watch for chances to earn money. The ale-wife has more to say.“They say the baron’s missing someone, or there are people going missing down south.”Following her direction they walk along an inferior road south, in misty rain that cuts visibility. The lands outside the hamlet seem unpopulated, but the path rises towards a ridge-like series of hills at the peak of which stands the baron’s keep. Flags can be seen on the towers, signalling that the baron is home.Taking wise precautions to not get mistaken for spies or attackers, the four first meet Edvard, sergeant to the baron and apparently a Horsebrother by descent, and then the household Burchardt. The baron’s features are strongly marked, one eyebrow twitches, and his eyes are dark-rimmed from lack of sleep. His wife is subdued and seems nervous of him, and his daughter may be getting slapped around.The baron’s issue is not missing peasants, it’s a missing taxman. His riders searched the village hard by the woods just south, but found nothing. It will take people that can search the forest. He offers a ten percent bounty and estimates the taxman carried 1500 gold.Crompton's leer costs him coinAt the sight of the baron's daughter Crompton's eyebrows twitch into leer position. During the meal one of the baron's men at arms leans in and tells Crompton he noticed that! And to prevent him passing that on to the baron, he'll take a cut of the loot.After dinner Crompton 'fesses up and Cauleigh and Jotunn pooh-pooh the idea of splitting the reward."Take six gold to him, offer him three and let him bargain you up to six if you have to," Cauleigh advises.This works like a charm, the blackmailer takes three greedily, and laughs, and tells him he'll be seeing him again.The village at Ravenwood is almost hospitableAfter a secure night’s rest, during which Crompton does not try to rescue nor seduce the daughter, the four delvers set out in heavier wet weather. The chill reminds them that shearing season has its risks.A six-hour push south through land once fertile but now ill-tended, with unpolled copses and orchards turned wild, takes them to a walled village hard against a larger and deeper woods. They judge the stone wall to be higher than Palgwyth’s, but not by much. The gate-keeper, strongly eyebrowed and proudly nosed, bends to examine them and pronounces them Dwarves, with some surprise.As to lodgings, after some thought the keeper suggests the Johns’ house, empty since the family left. He walks them no more than thirty paces down cramped lanes, kicks a leather-hinged door open, and ushers them into a bare one-room hovel. As to fire, for two silver he will bring them a bundle of wood. As to food…“Do you object to Hobbs?”There’s a Hobb widow, named Jennie Hobb-wife, who could do with the silver for cooking, or… other duties.“Just cooking,” Cauleigh responds firmly, glancing at Crompton.The four begin shedding sodden cloaks and armour, but next have to contend with a blocked chimney flue. Cauleigh manages this [L1 Dex SR] from the rooftop, using twine and a mace.As the smoky interior clears a large cauldron, carried by a small Hobb-wife, appears at the door.Jen Hobb-wife has gossip to pass onFennec shows a gentler side of his nature and soon makes friends with Jenn. She uses the fresh vegetables she brought, and two waybreads, to produce a nourishing evening broth. To the smell of the delicious broth and stinking damp clothes she passes on all she knows.- The taxman left the village, as far as she knows
- The village is known as Ravensdown, and the woods are known as Ravenwood
- In old times, the Ravenwood was guarded by two tree sprites, but in one of the last raids of the Great War, an Ogre and his warband slew one of the sprites
- The village well-water is pure thanks to the sprites. It rises in a spring and runs under the wall back through the Ravenwood
- People do go missing, including her own husband, but also just move away seeking a safer better life
- Gilg Dinckel says his wife went missing but she probably ran away
- Mayor Bolton’s word is not to be trusted.
Once Jen has departed the Dwarves strip off and the warmth dries their clothes overnight.The following day is brighter but promises occasional rain. Almost immediately they are out of doors, the four delvers are accosted by a screeching weirdo, a surprisingly young crone, who asks for her palm to be crossed with silver but says she knows about the raiders. She claims to have seen huge lizard-like creatures using the water-course.And as they make their way to the gate, Mayor Bolton greets them preceded by his stomach. His eyebrows are large and dark and his nose large and prosperous. He is a smooth talker, but has little to offer aside from bland assurances that the missing taxman could not have been waylaid near here.They follow the water-course to an ambushAll this talk of streams takes the four delvers over to the water-course that marks where the village waste-water heads into the woods. The banks are steep and slick, and once in it they would have a lot of trouble getting out. Although the wet land ought to carry scent well, Jotunn smells nothing out of the ordinary. Tracks there are a-plenty, but they are of the baron’s riders searching and not dismounting.The only other thing of note is the unusual number of ravens to be seen, perched on the wall and the trees.The best course seems to be to simply trace where the stream goes. Once under the canopy, only the occasional drop of rainwater disturbs them, and the footing is dry but a little slippery.Crack!Fennec is somewhat muffled by the leafy twigs of a fallen branch [makes L1 LK SR] and he is unable to help as four Lizard-folk charge two-legged at the others.Combat!
The three Dwarves in the fight are encumbered by cloak and gear [-5 each] and the fight goes poorly at first, though their sturdy armour absorbs the damage.
A barking command sounds from the rear and the Lizardmen brace themselves using their tails and hammer down on the Dwarf shields. Jotunn, who has no shield, has his dagger knocked out of his grasp. But they manage to divest themselves of extra gear.
WHAM! With a flash of purple, Fennec joins the fray, sending a TTYF into the nearest. Cauleigh dives around it, taking a mighty swipe to his flank and losing his helmet, and swings his axe around, cutting its leg deeply. A second TTYF puts that Lizardman down, and the fight’s outcome is secured.In the heat of the fight, Cauleigh is just able to glance sideways as whatever gave that earlier command rushes away. He glimpses a bulky form entering the water-course.After the remaining Lizardmen fall – they fight bravely and to the death – Jotunn tracks around where Cauleigh saw the figure and identifies hobnail bootprints. Big ones.“My powers are low,” Fennec warns the others.But this is not one of those situations where they can rest up in the village, so they gather their belongings and set out in pursuit.Props
This was a no-prep session aside from the treasure, most of which was simply assigned by me as appropriate. The Hobgoblin globe and the Dwarf tankard (though not the specifics) come from a treasure generator.
I mixed in, virtually at random, ideas and people from my own brain, ENSider’s Hamlet of Varseldorf, TheSkyFullofDust’s Curse of Ravenmere, and Goodman Games' War-Lock.
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Post by warlord476 on Aug 12, 2016 22:33:23 GMT -5
TI1.11: Restoring Ravensdown!
The characters for this session:
Fennec, L2 wizard (no specialty)
Cauleigh, L2 warrior (background: literate townsman)
Jotunn, Level 5 warrior (background: hunter; talent: tracking)
They find a tunnel by being shot from it
The first burst, so to speak, along the steep-banked and slimy stream takes our heroes deeper into the Ravenwood where the outside world can no longer be seen, though raven cries still sound. Jotunn takes a couple of minutes to charge the arquebus and he, Fennec and Cauleigh hand their packs, cloaks and other spare gear to Crompton, pack pony for the time being.
Jotunn then explores cautiously along the stream [forgets to ask for his hunter bonus, misses L1 INT SR] until he takes a crossbow bolt under his left arm! Cauleigh and Fennec leap to the edge of the stream’s bank and catch a flicker of movement in what appears to be merely shade under an overhanging tree. Cauleigh steps back, and makes a running leap across and down into a wet-floored tunnel mouth! But whatever fired the crossbow has retreated…
Meanwhile Jotunn has the bolt removed [24 off CON!] and after some minute of debate the Dwarves agree to pursue into the tunnel. Gear is tossed across, then Jotunn and Fennec follow, and with torches lit, and Crompton safe up on the opposite bank, they set out.
There is a defence!
The first issue to solve is what to defend with, and what to have ready. Jotunn elects to keep his spike shield for offense-defence, with a torch in that hand; and his broadaxe. Behind him Cauleigh follows up with torch and Dwarf Axe, shield on back. Fennec brings up the rear juggling a crossbow and his wizard staff, both two-hand weapons. Luckily he is strong enough to fire the crossbow one-handed.
Jotunn catches a glimpse of a pair of eyes, which withdraw right, so he is ready for an ambush-point. The footing is slimy and the water is knee-deep, so he needs to move carefully. But he probes forward too carefully! The Lizardman tackles his axe, pulling it down, while another rushes him from the front – and he is stuck using his shield alone!
This is a tough combat, but eventually Cauleigh scrambles up tree-roots on the tunnel side and drops around on one flank, evening the match. The two Lizardmen flee, wounded.
The Dwarves push forward through fire and iron
Pushing forward in pursuit the Dwarves find themselves on stone footing, but still sloshing water. Jotunn flings himself aside as an iron javelin is hurled from a far passage. Three Lizardmen use the chance to rush forward!
In the ensuing melee it’s a contest between the sturdy Lizardmen, who are able to brace their tails to get better impact, and the canny Dwarves, who use desperate stunts to turn the tables. The unseen commander flings an oil-bomb over his Lizardmen, but it is safely avoided. Finally Fennec lures one Lizardman away [OGA again], Cauleigh ties up an unwounded one in an uneven match, and Jotunn finishes the most-wounded. Once he is free to rescue Cauleigh, that decides the fight – but all three have been hammered to weakness!
Up a stairwell without a firing solution
Using the javelin or dart as a probe, the Dwarves explore in search of the leader. A scraping noise alerts them, and they push through a ‘throne’ room where he has dragged something hefty off a ledge, then to a tunnel he must have gone to. Jotunn narrowly avoids a deadfall, then they scramble after the retreating leader.
Distant sounds of hobnail boots lead them down a long tunnel to a wider room with a stone stair leading up. But at the top, the Ogre awaits!
He pushes his heavy chest down, disrupting the advance, then hammers at Jotunn and Cauleigh, breaking more of their armour and forcing them down. As things look desperate, Fennec advances past them, and hurls his trusty OGA again, and the Ogre rushes him, leaping the chest! Fennec runs down the stairwell at full pace and Jotunn and Cauleigh take a free hack at the Ogre’s legs as he emerges. With all three able to fight on good solid stone, they take a few more nicks to armour but slay the Ogre. Cauleigh lops the fearsome Ogre’s head off with venom: those repairs to armour are bound to be expensive!
Rescuing Ravensdown’s people
Hoping to find a captive taxman, or at least what happened to him, they wearily explore that top level. They find evidence of the taxman’s death, along with his guards. But they also liberate a small number of Ravensdown folk, including John Johns and his surviving daughter and Boss Hobb, Jenn’s husband.
The top level also offers a view over part of the Ravenwood. Crompton is summoned and the rescue proceeds. The burial of remains of villagers and guards killed and left in meat-storage is attended to, as well.
Restoring Ravensdown
The evidence suggests that the Ogre, along with his Lizardman minions, had an accomplice in the village. As the Dwarves lead their survivors to the village, the strangely young crone tells them that she has warned Mayor Bolton they would succeed. Amid the joyful reunions and tears for the slain, Mayor Bolton congratulates them fulsomely.
They are too important to be left at the Johns’ shack, so by common consent they stay at the Mayor’s house. They meet Mrs Bolton, an acidulated matron full of everyone’s affairs.
Crompton is detailed off to watch the Mayor to see what he does…
The old mill, and a new twist
The following day, rested and with their boots and clothing dry if not clean, the trio begin the chore of looting. Crompton trails the Mayor, who journeys a short distance to the nearest hill-stream where sits an abandoned mill. After a short time the Mayor emerges and heads back to his village.
Amidst counting over the loot and gifting the less-portable, less-exchangeable items to the village, the trio hear of this development, and head over to the mill.
There’s little to see. Cauleigh checks the millstone and sure enough, in one of the grooves is a rolled twist of paper:
“Adventurers have succeeded. What do I do?”
Cauleigh proposes buying some time by changing the note. With a piece of Fennec’s paper and Crompton’s forging skill, a new note is left reading:
“Adventurers stumped. They will leave soon.”
Leads to a change of admin in Ravensdown
Detailing Crompton to keep watch for who the message is intended for, the trio head back and confront the Mayor. It could go horribly wrong but Cauleigh is convincing [L1 CHR] and the gifts and freed prisoners have the village on his side. Mrs Bolton clinches the deal by hissing “I told you you wouldn’t get away with it!” and no-one bothers backing the Mayor [L1 LK all round].
Boss Hobb seems to be the next most senior figure, as leader of the Hobb community.
Misfortune leads to a hasty departure
The old temple, if that is what it is, gives up many treasures and a variety of near-useless oddments. Chief among the treasures is the taxman’s takings, along with his authority on behalf of House V’laskas, and his gear and the armour of his guards.
Crompton stumbles miserably in, full of cuts and bruises, to announce that he saw the blackmailing guard from Burchardt’s keep slip into the mill, but the guard also saw him! And he was lucky to get away with his life.
Cauleigh hastily readjusts the original plan, which was to claim the 10%, keep all the rest of the loot, and buy at least one horse from the baron.
“He’ll have worked out that the note is fake, and be off telling the baron some new story blaming us for everything! So let’s leave all of the tax money here and head in a different direction!”
They claim the Mayor’s pony for transport and no-one seems inclined to stop them. Boss Hobb suggests they head south, towards the next demesne, and use the fringes of the woods to avoid leaving tracks. There’s a small village just on the other side of the border named Jake’s Town, they could rest up at.
So with pony laden with a couple of nice pieces of armour, and a number of odd items not fitting inside their own kit, they bid farewell to Ravensdown and leave the bastardly baron Burchardt to his own devices.
Props
The dungeon stock, including Ogre, come from &Magazine’s Wizardawn dungeon generators (I had to use Troglodyte as the monster, removing their spit effect and stench) while the dungeon itself is Return to the Lair of the Frogs, Dyson Logos, 2015 Dodecahedron Cartographic Review. The deserted mill is a random draw from the Rural Locations deck of Concept Cards (Coffey and Hensel). NPCs are my own creation, as is the Vale.
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