In which the adventurers seek adventure, battle halfiing intolerance, beard the lion(men) in their lair and find what lurks beneath the pyramid.
SESSION II
I am posting through my backlog of play reports to get this started well.
A week passed, I was expecting it'd be
two before we played again, but my players are resoundingly eager.
They all returned. The cast of villains is:
Grimgrim – Fighting priest of the
fierce God of Dooms, Monstcrom! (M) Cleric 1
Lemon Jackson – An under-clothed
wizard with strange yellow eyes and who tattoos himself with spells.
(M) Magic-User 1
Hump – Dwarf with a fake beard,
red splint armor festooned with axes & heavy crossbow. (M) Dwarf
1
Mukuls – Barbarian with
stereotypically savage strength and a fondness for axes. (M) Fighter 1
Drusilla – Pretty elfin lass, of disturbingly unpleasant affect and with a taste for human babies (F)
Elf 1
The party awoke in Mung's House of Ale
and set out to find the temple of science and see both what it was
and what work they might need. They arrived at the black pyramid at
10 AM and the Scientists were open for the day. Lemon and Hump did
the talking while the rest of the party lurked in the background.
The Scientists thought they could find
something for such a band of adventurers to work at, something
besides a long stint in the temple's boron mines, because “Science
is always in need of willing bodies”. The adventurers learned that
a visiting Scientist and retainers had been expected by the South
road, but were a week late. The Scientists would pay 50gp per party
member for the party to escort the visitors back to the Temple of
Science. When Hump asked where the visitors had come from they were
told that the missing Scientist had been prospecting for artifacts in
the Molybdenum Tombs, a place of ancient technology. Also the
Scientists insisted that they didn't work with the Steel Leviathans,
as those were powered by the “crude engineering” of the Academy
these days.
The party walked back to the bazaar and
spent more of their quickly dwindling cash reserves on camping gear
and rations. They refused Drusilla's suggestion that they go to the
Street of Tormented flesh and buy her a human baby in lieu of her1/5
of the rations.
On the way South through the soot
stained streets and among the clanking factories the adventurers
observed a fist fight amongst local toughs, unemployed machine
workers and drunken rowdies. The party skirted around the fracas and
refused even to bet on a winner with a cancerous factory foreman who
was sure that his 'boys' would smash the opposition.
The party looked a bit ridiculous as
they walked, bristling with weapons through the bucolic, peaceful
countryside. Five hours later there was still no sign of the wayward
science caravan and the group passed through the town of Lugosi,
where the road split. No one the characters asked had seen any
scientists, but they were told to take the right, less traveled road
if they were heading towards the tombs. An elderly yokel was heard
to remark “Ha them youths is all gonna die in the tombs. That
pretty armor's gonna be soft cheese to the teeth of a crystal
jaguar.” Mukul's player P voices concerns to the rest of the party
and briefly advocates some sort of meta-game theory that the DM is
trying to warn them away from the tombs and they were supposed to
stay in “starting area” of Denethix (I sorta despise MMO's for
encouraging this kind of thinking). The other players ignore P's
theory and Grimgrim wonders aloud if Monstcrom would protect him from
crystal jaguars, if a crystal jaguar skin cape would would be
pleasing to Monstcrom and if Monstcrom would prefer his followers to
befriend or sacrifice a crystal jaguar? Grimgrim instinctively feels
that a cape would be pleasing to Monstcrom, but not as pleasing as a
crystal jaguar fur loin cloth and furry wrist bracers, also that
Monstcrom wants sacrifice, not to be worshiped by cat-hoarders.
I proclaimed that Grimgrim had earned
20xp for his priestly mediation on his deity's desires regarding
crystal felines, and pointed out that was as much xp as he'd get for
killing four goblins. I want to reward in-game thinking and character
building here. Drusilla will be getting xp if she gets her teeth into
a human-type baby for example (though I don't think Hump, Mukuls or
Lemon will like that much and there may be terrible lynch-mob style
consequences).
Five miles out of Lugosi on the
Tarryfield road the party was set upon by a gang of violently drunken
halfling hillbilly toughs who failed to achieve complete suprise only
because their leader (a young halfling with a shaved head and
gruesome facial scars) decided to shout “Stand aside dwarf, and
we'll let you run while we murderate these beanpoles.” The other
halflings giggled while Hump appeared to momentarily dither. Hump
didn't wait long to send a quarrel towards the halfling leader. Hump
missed. Four of the Halflings charged, wielding nail studded clubs
and pitchforks, the remaining bow-ling put an arrow into Grimgrim's
shoulder guard). Lemon tossed a sleep spell at the charging
halflings, but his lack of battle training left his pussiance wanting
and the incantation only put down the archer and two pitchfork
wielders. Mukul's thrown hachet caught a club-ling in the chest and
left him coughing blood but stumbling forward with drunken
determination. Grimgrim missed, as did the attacker's leader, but
the wounded halfling rapped Grimgrim on the shin and draws blood.
Attacking last, from the second rank, Drusilla's crescent headed
polearm neatly decapitated the halfling leader and sent his screaming
head whirling off into the bushes. (I stole the flying screaming
decapitated head from a Roman epic poem – it's a classical
allusion, respect it!). Hope drains from the remaining halfling's
eyes as he wheezes with blood filled lungs and his brave, but feeble
club swing is deflected by Grimgrim's shield. A flurry of
counterblows end the last halfling's determined stand and reduce him
to ground chuck.
Grimgrim decides that they must let one
sleeping halfling live “To tell his children Monstcrom's might and
in honor of his friend's bravery in the face of death.” G is
fishing for xp methinks, but it's a once per game session bonus.
Lemon agreed to let the sleeping
halflings live, and declared they were “his kills” so it was his
right to decide. The party then buried the 'brave' halfling (the
last to die) in a shallow grave, nailing a gp (they now have 39) to
his club as a grave marker and left the groggy tied halflings with
the decapitated leader's corpse in the ditch. They looted some 64sp,
a copper chased drinking horn, and lucky protonium disc, engraved
with pictures of a bull head/tail (10 gp gem replacements) from the
defeated.
Grimgrim's wound was minor (2hp –
leaving him with 4hp) and he bandaged it. He clamed his frayed
nerves by draining the captured drinking horn. I am using the
“MetalEarth” “bad-ass healing rules” so Grimgrim was back to full hp
(1d4 healing for taking appropriate efforts – especially a stiff
drink). Mukuls suggested Drusilla enjoy a “Halfling haunch”
cause they looked like babies, but Drusilla replied with the jaunty
elven rhyme “If it's gray let it lay, if it's not in the Pot!”.
Laughter and XP bonus followed.
Leaving the site of the yokel slaughter
(which could have gone very badly I think), the party walked on, with
Lemon flipping his new 'lucky' token in the spring sun. They arrived
at Tarryfield at 11PM and stumbled into “The Wretched” for a
quick drink. They ate their own rations, in preference to the rat on
a stick or “mold fries” while telling the local drunks about
their encounter with the halflings, asking about Scientists and
generally being tough guys. The adventurers rented the loft for 5gp
and retired after a couple rounds paid for with the Halflings'
silver.
Shortly after 4am the party, and the
barkeep (sleeping in a pile of greasy straw by the smokey fireplace)
were awakened by a pounding on the door. Two wild-eyed men in ragged
splint mail and dirty Temple of Science tabards burst into The
Wretched shouting for help. The party tries to calm them and starts
suiting up. Terry and Phil are the intruders names and they are
armsmen for the temple of science, most recently exploring the
Molybdenum Tombs with a Dr. Spivey from the South. This Dr. is
clearly the man the players have been sent to find.
The armsmen relate their predictable
story of being robbed by Moktars … hostages, treasure caravan etc.
The party decides to head out, in the dark, as this is exactly the
clear cut adventure they want. Hump catches Terry and Phil
exchanging avaricious glances.
A slightly exhausted 2 hr later, just
as dawn is breaking, the party finds themselves at the caravan site.
They're tired and a bit dazed (I'm giving them all -1 on damage rolls
until they rest), but quickly search the burnt caravan, finding three
dead guards and a dead “postoc”, as the servants/slaves of
Scientists are known. Almost as quickly as the party realizes that
the caravan is looted, they discover large cat-like footprints in the
mud. Terry and Phil report that Dr. Spivey is not among the dead, and
that another guard, Kolem, is also missing. Following the footprints
the party arrives at the Moktar lair, visible ½ way up a low hill as
a perfectly square hole in a roughly excavated rock wall.
In an heretoforth uncharacteristic fit
of tactical sense the characters array themselves around the opening,
with the Melee armed Mukuls and Drusilla at the doors edge, and the
rest of the party hefting their missile weapons (crossbow, darts and
a sling) crouched above the door's lip. Terry and Phil stand behind
Drusilla on the left side of the door. After nothing happens for a
few minutes, Mukuls shouts “Surrender in the name of the law and
come out with yer hands on yer heads”. After several seconds they
hear a distant clang, a viscous howl and shortly afterwards the sound
of a breaking branch and a sustained pained yipping. The guard wolf
has fallen into the pit. I rolled the moktar's morale and he decided
to check out the disturbance before running for help. As 'healthy'
moktar sticks his head out of the doorway he is subject to a flurry
of blows. He avoids the heavy melee attacks of Drusilla and Mukuls,
as well as a bolt and stone. Lemon's dart catches the moktar in the
back of the arm and draws blood. The Moktar leaps back into the cave
entrance and starts to retreat towards the sprung pit trap and his
wolf. He is followed shortly by Mukuls and Drusilla, then Phil and
Terry, and finally the rest of the party, with Lemon in the 4th
rank.
Eager to press on even with darkness
closing in as the outdoor light dims the party backs the wary Moktar
up against the pit. The first round is a flurry of missing missles
and blocked blows, but in the second Mukuls lands an overhead
battleaxe blow and his strength carries his blade through the
moktar's guard and deep into it's shoulder. The dying moktar falls
into the pit with a splash and the trapped wolf's yelps grow louder.
Drusilla kills the wolf with her
polearm by leaning over the side of the pit with Mukuls and Grimgrim
each holding one of her legs. Even in this awkward position the
trapped beast is silenced in only a few rounds. The sick guards down
the hall have followed the commotion, but their sickness induced
lassitude keeps them from acting aggressively until they see the
party's lamps as they emerge around the corner from the pit and begin
to assemble.
The party had trouble crossing the pit,
with only 20' of rope and one grappling hook, they were all forced to
descend (Phil offered to 'stand guard' even if it meant he had to
stay on the doorway side of the pit, but his offer was declined) and
then remove the grapple and ascend up the other side. Hump takes
charge as they assemble, organizing the party for melee efficiency.
He and Mukuls form a first line, with the polearm wielding Drusilla
thrusting over Hump's short shoulders while Grimgrim and Lemon
provide missile support. Terry and Phil gladly slink to the rear.
The two moktars are worried that they are out numbered but they
figure they're only be facing Hump and Mukul's axes in the narrow
corridor so they advance with warning roars. The attacking Moktars
run straight into Drusilla's braced braced crescent pike, but the
injury it inflicts fails to bring down the first moktar. Grimgrim's
slingstone cracks the same moktar's skull, but the tough brute still
refuses to go down. Both moktar's miss their tentative swings at the
well shielded fighters of the front line. Mukul's great strength is
again telling as he lays out the unwounded Moktar with a single
mighty blow. The wounded Moktar turns to flee, and is cut down just
as the rest of the enraged moktar band emerges from the end of the
hall.
The fight in the corridor is long and
exhausting with Grimgrim moving forward when a second pair of moktars
tear into Mukuls and force his retreat. The moktars fight to the end
though, despite their disadvantage in armor and the flurry of
missiles and pike thrusts from the parties back row. By the fight's
end Mukuls has exhausted his throwing axes, and is still bleeding
from a pair of serious wounds, even after a bandaging. Grimgrim is
forced to call on Monstcrom for healing, and the party presses
forward to find the empty guardroom and then the mess of the common
room. Dr. Spivey is trussed in the corner and the players heed rush
to free him. He curses Terry and Phil as worthless cowards, but
Terry and Phil aren't cowed. The party takes the obviously ill Dr.
back down the hall to the Guard room and lay him on the table.
Drusilla tells Grimgrim to heal him, but Grimgrim states he isn't a
Dr. and that Monstcrom is a stingy God who will grant no more boons
today.
Lemon, as the party's most educated
tries to conduct first aid, but before he can do much Spivey expires.
A search of his body reveals a rolled map and nothing else.
The party rushes back into the common
room to search for any more moktars, and this time Hump notices the
telltale mad radiation of the sick rock in the corner. He tells the
party to hurry into the next room, and they burst into the Chief's
chamber in total disarray. The chief is surprised, the noise of the
battle in the outer hall having only begun to wake him from a sick
rock tormented stupor. The party is equally surprised and barely
sorts itself out before the groggy chief charges them. The chief's
first blow smashes Hump back into the hall, reeling with 1 hp
remaining. No blows land for several rounds until a recovered Hump
puts a bolt into the Chief's thigh and the shock leaves the chief
open to blows from Mukuls and Terry. The chief dies, roaring his
outrage, while Terry attempts to claim the chief's necklace by right
of having landed the final blow. The party threatens Terry; Terry
relents as his cowardice defeats his greed.
The party stops for a while, trying to
mend Hump's serious injury. Hump has at least one cracked rib but he
is better off after a tight bandaging and a brief rest. The
adventurers are in amazingly good shape for having rapidly done in 19
HD of monsters without a rest. Grimgrim and Hump still have painful
minor wounds, but all the other adventurers are unscratched.
The party finds a lever at the entrance
to a tunnel, and Mukuls promptly pulls it. A loud clanf follows and
the party then nonchalantly begins walking South towards the source
of the noise. Hump is thrown to the ceiling by an unseen force, when
he fails to heed a magnetic pull on his armor. Mukuls leaps back in
time, but his beloved battleaxe is torn from his grasp. From Hump's
anguished shouts the party is able to determine that the trap is
magnetic in nature, and Lemon goes down the hall to toss Hump a rope.
Hump has nothing to tie the rope to so Mukuls, Grimgrim and Drusilla
all remove their armor and stand beneath Hump with a blanket
stretched out to catch him while Phil put the lever into down
position. The plan works as the blanket barely holds 200lbs of
plummeting armored dwarf. Hump is again soothed, this time with a
vigorous back rub from Mukuls for his badly wrenched shoulders. The
party pledges to remember to bring whiskey on their next delve, as
Hump is still sore and his busted ribs feel worse again. The
adventurers works their way to the end of the corridor and cannot
shift the steel trapdoor the find there. They surmise correctly that
the lever will lift it and leave Lemon by the trap door with
instructions to yell about what happens. Sure enough the trap opens
when the massive steel pyramid, it's base the “trapdoor”, slams
into the ceiling. The party debates how to get their armored selves
down the trapdoor, but cannot figure out a good way, especially one
that will allow them to retain their armor and keep the trap pinned
to the ceiling. Finally Grimgrim decides on a possible plan and the
party drags the guardroom table to the trapdoor and activates the
magnet. While the door is up, they lay the table over the hole (it
barely spans the pit). When the pyramid again falls to the hole the
table succeeds in partially deflecting (several rolls were made –
they went well) the pyramid so that using rope and the remaining
table chunks as levers the party's combined strength can shift the
pyramid to the side.
The party lowers Mukuls into the hole
with a harness under his arms, his axe in one hand and lantern in the
other. Hump and Lemon stand ready to pelt anything that emerges with
missiles. It's anti-climactic as Mukuls finds only a damp hole with
stairs heading down. The party follows and arranges themselves in
their tested battle formation before proceeding into a vault. They
don't know what to expect, but it's not the purplish corpse of a
caravan guard and a large chest. There are cheers about the chest,
and the party rushes forward as two spiders leap from the ceiling,
the first pounces on Terry as he emerges from the stairs and the
second launches itself at Lemon. Both Terry and Lemon are bitten,
lemon takes a bloodly but mostly superficial scratch to the face,
leaping back so quickly that the dose of spider poison meant for him
spurts harmlessly onto the floor. Terry is less lucky, and the
viscous bite of the fangs drops him to his knees where the spider
leisurely pumps venom into him. As Terry expires gasping and purple,
Phil's short sword takes the spider above a knee joint, but the beast
barely seems to notice the shortened leg as it turns towards Drusilla
and Grimgrim. Lemon has darted to cower behind the cleric and elf
while clawing at his bloody face. Grimgrim braces himself but his
wild swing fails to connect. Mukuls and Hump dart forward completing
a crescent formation around the two spiders, Phil and the deceased
Terry. As this shuffling takes place Drusilla has dropped her
crescent pike and begun to mouth the mystical words of her sleep
spell. The spiders prepare for leap, almost sure to carry off at
least one party member with their virulent poisons, when the winds of
slumber (Drusilla's spell apparently creates a bluish mist that
smells of coconut, ginger and key limes) hit them and luckily send
both monster arachnids into a deep sleep filled with lovely dreams -
this is apparently a side effect of Drusilla's sleep spell, though it
begs the question as to what 'lovely dreams' mean to a giant cave
spider). There is no talk of mercy and Drusilla uses her crescent to
lop off the head of each spider while Hump and Mukuls each drive axe
blows into the eyes. This bit of butchery kills the spiders quickly
and the party returns to the chest after searching the room for more
monsters. Lemon staunches the his bleeding face with a fist full of
giant spider web (the party may remember to look up when they enter
strange treasure tombs from now on, but it's unlikely) and on close
examination the wound is superficial despite a stinging from trace
amounts of venom.
Turning to the chest the party finds
800gp within as they note the chest's unwieldy lead construction.
Phil suggests that the coins (750 of which are rolled in 30 Bank
Inviolable coin sleeves) represent pay for the Scientist's caravan
guards – meaning himself. Grimgrim mutters something about 'blood
for Monstcrom'. As Phil takes in the scratched but hardy adventurers
and he can only meekly suggest that “Not for me you see, something
for Terry's three babies, and maybe you know a bit for me to ummmm -
put aside.” The party ignores him and scoops the gold into their
packs.
The weary trudge back to Tarryfield is
uneventful, but they spend only enough time in the Wretched's loft
to achieve the minimum of rest and for the casters to pick through
their spell books and commune with their gods. The next night is
spent in one of Lugosi's inns, a comfortable spot called The Sinking
Fang. On their fourth day after leaving Denethix the party walks
back into the city up the same sooty street they left. Phil trudges
dejectedly behind the party, somehow having lost his Science tabard
and almost silently whining about “a fair share for the Philster”.
AFTER REPORT
Treasure and XP
– It was a good haul, 857 gp
in coin, 20 gp in nicknacks and a mysterious treasure map. This is less than last time, but that was basically a hand-wave to give
the PC's starting cash. This timed they earned their loot like good
adventurers, through bloodthirsty slaughter and smart tactics.
Victims -5 halfling hillfolk (3 released), a wolf, a healthy moktar, 8 poisoned
moktars, 1 dying moktar chief, 2 crab spiders. The total is
something like 1120 XP total, or 224 each.
Losses - Terry the Incompetent Armsman.
Treasures of Note: A Strange Map –
It's a map to some kind of cave
near the top of Mt. Rendon, a massive lone mountain about 35 miles
from Denethix. The Mountain is known to be dangerous and topped by
peryton inhabited and/or haunted ancient ruins. Some say it was “the
last redoubt of the ancient wizards” but people say that about
every ancient ruin. The map is clearly very old, printed on crumbling plastic
and showing topography in the ancient manner. The dead scientist, Dr. Spivey, has
written in his neat block letters “sick rock imperative to ingress”
in some kind of grease pencil with an arrow towards the
cave.
