Forum: Public Forum

Interpretive dance or finger painting?

Hi all,

Damn, I'm missing all the fun! I'm REALLY sorry but I can't make it to the game this week either! I'm being whisked away for a long weekend by the better half. Promise I'll be back to heal you all soon! Keep me updated with your write-ups. Personally I'd like to see some papier machet reconstructions of your most epic moments.

The Drasilisk’s Hoard – Epilogue

“It’s an Aboleth,” says the Sorcerer, lifting a small statuette from the pile of treasure at the back of the Drasilisk’s cavernous lair. He holds it up against the few frail and failing fingers of light that have somehow struggled their way from the cave entrance and smiles: the roughly carved figure, of an unearthly tentacled slug-like creature, glistens pale silver in the feeble light.

“Should fetch me fifty gold pieces at market,” he comments, before casting a quick glance at the party standing around him. “I mean it should fetch us fifty gold pieces, of course...”

A small shower of pebbles can be heard in the distance. “Hurry it up,” says the Fighter, scanning the murky depths of the Drasilisk Lair uneasily.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning blasts its way from the shadows, smashing through the party and scattering coins and trinkets across the rocky floor.

“Over there,” shouts the Alchemist, throwing a bomb into the gloom. The bang shakes the cavern ominously, small clouds of dust further choking the light. From the darkened cave corner comes a tortured squeal.

As swords are drawn and the party prepares for melee, a complete and total darkness engulfs everyone. Immediately they wonder if the explosion might have collapsed the cave entrance but no, this must be something else - some kind of magical darkness. In the distance a scampering can be heard, moving swiftly across the cavern towards the party, but still no-one can see anything, not even their own hands in front of them. The sounds come yet closer now, so close that a hoarse rasping breathing can also be discerned.

The Magus calls a floating ball of fire from his outstretched palm. At first a small flickering candle whose light pushes desperately against the cloying desert of blackness, it rapidly grows to a solid sphere of flame illuminating him and his surroundings. He directs the hovering ball out into the darkness towards the skittering footfalls. Follow the sound. Reveal the attacker. It flies between ridged and sharpened columns, past stalagmites and boulders before stopping in front of the Alchemist.

“What are you doing?” The Alchemist shields his eyes, regarding the Magus quizzically.

“I was... following that noise,” the Magus begins, before seeing - standing right behind the Alchemist - a small, hunched figure dressed in an ill-fitting armour of leathers and black metal strips, with thick grabs of matted unkempt hair hanging loosely over its pallid countenance. The thing jumps forward at the Alchemist, who cries in alarm and falls to the ground.

The creature peers, with pus-yellow eyes, straight through the darkness at the Magus. It licks its teeth through a gnarled and crooked smile, pale hands toying with its now-bloody dagger. The Magus shivers, sword held out in anticipation of the imminent assault. The dishevelled figure, however, is so engrossed by the sight of its next victim that it fails to notice a second source of magical light appearing right behind it. The Sorcerer - and standing beside him: the Fighter, who steps forward and beheads the thing with one clear, if slightly ironic, sword swing.

The magical darkness disappears and they gather around the fallen Alchemist. The Magus kneels down to inspect the wound.

“Poisoned,” gasps the Alchemist, feeling his life ebbing away. He reaches out and tenderly holds the Magus’s hand. Their eyes meet.

“My dear friend,” the Alchemist coughs, his body wracked with pain. “I have known you only a few days, but even in this short time I have rediscovered feelings I once thought forever lost to me. “ A tear wells up in his eye. ”There is something that I must tell you before I am gone, about how much our time together has meant to me.”

“Greenblood Oil,” interrupts the Fighter, gingerly poking at the sludge coating the dagger blade, “you’ll be fine in a few days.”

“What? Ah, well that’s good,” says the Alchemist, suddenly concerned with rearranging his bomb sash. “We’d best get on then, eh?”

Requiem for an Alchemist

The party heads to the north, picking their way through the winding ravines and serpentine crevasses of the Chaos Rift until ahead, high up in the cliff face, they see another cave entrance. Three statues of horned, clawed and winged demons perch on the cave edge, gazing off into the distance. The four adventurers make their way closer to investigate.

The Alchemist stops suddenly, squinting upwards. “Wasn’t that statue looking over there a few minutes ago?”

Indeed one of the statues now appeared to be looking straight down at them.

“Gargoyles?” Asks the Magus, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “The Bard’s Gate Caravan was attacked by gargoyles – this could be the place we’re looking for.”

“Well technically they would be ‘Grotesques’,” begins the Sorcerer but is interrupted by the three supposed ‘statues’ launching into the air on leathery wings and swooping down upon the party.

As battle is joined another three of the creatures scurry out of the surrounding rock-faces and spring on the Alchemist from behind. “No!” he exclaims, disappearing amidst a frenzy of claws and teeth and cruelly-spiked wings. “Life is so unfair!”

The gargoyles fall to sword and fiery spell but it is too late – the Alchemist lies slain.

A Rude (Re-) Awakening

The Sorcerer kneels by the tattered remains of the Alchemist, first eviscerated by gargoyle claws and then blasted by magical fire as the pitched conflict continued around it.

He rummages around in the innards of the corpse. “Ah, the bones are strong,” he whispers to himself. “Good; very good.” He pulls from his shoulder bag a smooth pebble, black as the deepest ocean abyss, and places it upon the dead Alchemist.

The black stone pulses imperceptibly and breaks open with a dull snapping sound. All is still for a moment - then within the smouldering corpse of the Alchemist something stirs. An arm bone, caked with charred flesh and torn robes, twitches and fidgets - a wrist flexes then flops and flails against the ground. A shudder shakes the body as other bones begin to swim and squirm back together through the clotted heaps of flesh and fabric. One arm, now almost fully reassembled, twists and pushes, propping one side of the blackened carcass up off the ground. The skull snaps back into place. It hangs limply at first, bloodied clumps of hair dragging across the ground, and then slowly lifts to peer at the Sorcerer with one dead eyeball and a fiercely burning pin-point of fire within an empty socket. Its jaw opens as if to speak but only a dry rustling can be heard.

The Sorcerer takes a few steps back as the creature rises unsteadily on its newly reforming legs, swaying a little this way and that as its knees and ankles grind roughly into place.

“Spirit of Oblivion, hear my words. I, who have drawn your essence from the nothingness of the void, do command you.”

The figure hisses then lumbers forwards with ponderous, uncertain steps towards the Sorcerer, scratching at the air with skeletal fingers.

“Spirit of Oblivion, hear my words and obey,” demands the Sorcerer more forcefully. ”I, who have halted the very wheels of life and death itself, do bind you to my Will.” The Sorcerer pushes forward a medallion carved with unholy images depicting his unyielding desire to dominate and subvert all natural cycles and processes.

A piercing wail comes up from the undead creature as it falls to its knees. “Yes, you will do my bidding now,” the Sorcerer comments, before casting a quick glance at the party standing around him. “I mean for the greater good, of course...”

Tim, that's another epic write up of the last session. Many thanks.
(You guys do a much better job of recounting the last session than me for any missing players!)

Damn you Tim, that is a thoroughly enjoyable and accurate write up, you put me to shame. The question is, do I rise to the challenge or bow gracefully at your feet?

or...

offer an unholy alliance.

I think the write ups are good even should everyone be there. It'd be nice to able to track the adventure.

I'm sure Captain Picard would tell us that the only challenge worth rising to is the challenge of self-improvement, of self-development and even, perhaps, self-mastery. I'm not sure I would disagree.

Also I have already attempted to communicate with my feet on many occasions using threats, bribery and even bowing gracefully - they remain quiet and aloof. And slightly inscrutable.

Actually I am intrigued by your suggestion of using 'experimental theatre' instead and look forward to seeing you convey the spirit of tonight's session through a spine-tingling performance of "Cross-dressing Capoeira Mestre Battles Incan Tribesmen with Laser Pistols."

Cheers me dears!

I have to say that so far that was probably my favourite game session from Slumbering Tsar.

Glad you enjoyed it Ding. Think you acquiring the Litch template is in keeping in the way you've been playing Almort.

(To be honest I hadn't thought you'd go for that when you were offered the Wish!)

Hope the rest of you enjoyed it!

It came up through the group discussion, but when mentioned, it seemed a good fit for the character, I couldn't see him using a wish to benefit the party over benefitting himself.

What did you think Almort/I was going to wish for?

(When I first read that, I read it as "... offered the Welsh!", which would have been strange in Pathfinder)

I thought he might have gone for asking for some sort of powerful item (well the party has a history of that!)

The party climbs up the 600’ of cliff face to the cave entrance, the Fighter finally getting some use out of his +18 Climbing skill. We find the survivor from the Caravan surrounded by a load (or a 'nasty' - or a ‘nastiness’ - or maybe just a 'wing') of ‘Acid-Spitting Gargoyles’ (For those of us following the story this explains the injuries on the Hill Giant we killed in the first session) so we power up our Resist Acid and get stuck in.

Now, it turns out that gargoyles don’t like being fireballed (who knew?) so one of them grabs Almort the Sorcerer and flies out over the cliff edge with him.

“Aha, you fool!” The Sorcerer says, dangling from the gargoyle's claws. “Never grapple someone that has a Touch Attack!”

The Sorcerer paralyses the gargoyle – which immediately starts to fall towards the ground 600 feet below - before realising the minor flaw in his plan. But then the words of his spiritual mentor, Patrick Swayze, echo in his mind: "It's 100 percent pure adrenaline, Bro. Other guys snort for it, jab a vein for it. All you gotta do is... jump."

Suddenly he is in The Zone, performing a flawless half-twist double somersault knee-tuck and pike, reaching out to grab the rope the party had just climbed. The judges give him 9.5 after a slightly shaky finish involving a dislocated shoulder and a vicious set of friction burns on his right hand that might be awkward to explain away later.

“Ha!” he utters victoriously, watching the paralysed gargoyle slam into the ground far below. “Nobody puts Almort in a corner.”

The survivor from the Caravan turns out to be a Ninja who is none too happy about the time we took to rescue him. The Sorcerer, Master of Lies, Trickery and Deception, convinces him that actually we had only just heard about the caravan attack and came as quickly as we could.

We gather around this survivor, keen to find out more about what’s going on. Why were the gargoyles attacking the caravans? Why did they spare him but butcher just about everyone else? How did the Hill Giant get away? Why did they just ignore all the non-magical trade goods in the Caravan? Who is directing them - and to what vile and despicable ends?

“I am ninja,” he replies, before back-flipping into the shadows. ‘Kay.

Exploring further we find and slay a ‘Green Slime Zombie’, then discover that little tiny green slimes (some called Bob, others called Dave) have dropped down onto us from the ceiling. Fortunately the Paladin, the one character with anti-zombie-making-parasitic-slime powers on tap, was also the only character not affected. So: problem solved.

There is also a possibility that they had some psychedelic side-effects. I have a vivid recollection of us all having a group hug, and the Fighter chasing after the Sorcerer whilst giving the Paladin a piggy-back but apparently none of that actually happened.

Having had our fill of creepy caverns we head back out into the sunny Chaos Rift and head off to explore a couple of towering structures with a funky energy effect playing across their tops.

The ground shakes - the DM has just rolled a d20 carved from the dead heart of a collapsed star.

The ground shakes again - a demon appears in front of us.

The Fighter rushes forward to discover that he is now going mano-a-mano with a CR-13 demon (oops) and has just walked straight into a 100-damage wall of pain. Eek. The Magus ‘enlarges’ the Paladin (if you know what I mean) and they charge in to the rescue. We burn a load of Hero Points and the Paladin wallops the demon so hard its eyes cross and little cartoon birdies fly around its head, however to our horror the capricious magics of the ‘Warhammer of Ass-kicking’ begin to heal the demon as well!?!

From experience we know that this only happens when our foes are near death, so we splurge another load of Hero Points to squeeze a last desperate Critical Hit from the Fighter, and the demon is slain! Huzzah!

We all cheer. Except the Ninja who is busy doing back-flips somewhere. And the Sorcerer who is... otherwise distracted...

...Because while our little anti-demon scrap is going on, the Sorcerer hears a voice in his head “What is your heart’s desire, my little friend?” Immediately he replies, “ooo yes - I want to be just like David Hasselhoff. No, wait - I need to think about this.”

The Sorcerer uses a Life-Line to ‘Ask the Audience’. 45% choose ‘A: Become a Lich’, 35% choose ‘C: Be just like David Hasselhoff’, 15% choose ‘B: Get an Apprentice, tell him to clear the place up then leave a Cursed Scroll of Prestidigitation on the sideboard’ while 5% choose ‘D: Open an Undead Animal Rescue Centre in Bard’s Gate’.

With a heavy heart the Sorcerer turns away from his dreams of those luscious dark juicy Hoff-locks, “I choose ‘A: Become a Lich’. Final Answer.”

In order to smooth things over with the party, the newly Lich-ified Sorcerer (who we have already ascertained is a Master of Lies, Trickery and Deception) hands over a gem - which he claims now contains his soul, with instructions to destroy it if he ever turns Evil.

No doubt I have probably missed a few key details here and there, so pipe up: only 130 more posts before we catch up with the Rise of the Runelords thread...

Another excellent 'captain's log' Captain-don't stop writing them.

I agree with Ding, probably the best games I've played; not that I have played that many but if I had this would probably be it- watching Almort plunge to his death only to reappear with a mangled arm 20 minutes later, finding more friends along the way (the Ninja, Bob the slime, Bob the slime and Dave the slime), whacking a demon so hard he was healed by the hit, then watching the look of pure smugness being wiped from it's face as the fighter delivered an almighty killer blow, only to find our halfing freind looking slightly gaunt and starting to smell a bit peculiar- Oh he's a lich, does that mean we will have to put up with the flies and stench of his body as it starts to rot around him?

Cheers all, can't wait to tune in next time for more adventures of 'Not the Secret Six'

Glad you all are enjoying it.

On a side note, you *may* start wanting to think about going into Tsar soon. The areas to the right of the map have been cleared out by the (suicidal?) Six, so you'll be exploring the area close to the city now. And well, like every city there's always more than one way in and out.

Out of interest what XP are you guys on?

According to my sheet I was on 105000xp before the whole lich thing. Although I have a feeling I have missed noting some (possibly the 18000xp noted on page 11).

I enjoyed the olive slime encounter. Everyone being sure that their particular slime was their best friend ever and everyone else's slime was clearly draining their life and that they needed to get rid of it a.s.a.p. Then the paladin trying to be subtle in healing Rondar and everyone else spotting it and flipping out trying to run away from each other, the ninja dissapearing instantly into the shadows, only for everyone to be eventually be caught. It was a Pathfinder equivalent of tig, with reverse infection rules.

Got to re-work my character sheet now. At least I won't have to re-do it for another couple of levels.

Right XP wise (if you can update your character sheets) you should now be at 140,000.

Depending on what you go and do next, you should be levelling fairly soon.

Question to the players.
Are you wanting an epic battle next session?

Aha - the epic battle to get 7 people seated around that table, eh?

Or if you mean in-game, well that depends. Is this 'epic' as in 'Awesome PCs cut a swath through hordes of dastardly evil-doers' or 'epic' in the same way as Custer's Last Stand was? :/

Personally I would prefer more of the former and less of the latter.

On the other hand, if this epic battle is the party vs 113 Giant Hamsters then sign me up.

Well I'm using the term "epic" in the sense of high risk, high reward kind of way. Its up to you guys you know your going to be meeting this BBEG.. its just when. (And I need to bring the mini for it too).

(Oh and I'm not meaning Orcus)

So no Giant Hamsters then?

Hmmm, well this is intriguing... but I think my vote will be for 'No' all the same.

Would be silly to jump into a high-risk encounter just before an important level-up. (imo)

Hi all,

Thanks so much Tim for the awesome write-ups. Sounds like I've missed all the good stuff... Still, barring a terrible catastrophe I will be there next week! Since I haven't played for ages I would embrace some kind of epic battle, but not one that's gonna get me killed ;) btw, Kirkas will be having words with Almort about this whole 'lich' phase he's going through. He's grounded.