New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather pt. 2

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"Before we begin," I said as my Lovely Bride picked out her dice, "I just want to make it clear that all of you fuckers know each other. We're not going through that bullshit where you pretend like you don't know each other and then try to awkwardly work together."

"Aw," Brittle Betty said as she laid out her rules cheat sheet, "I kind of like that part."

"Why," Biggboy's deep, gravelly voice asked from the end of the table.

"Oh," Brittle Betty said as her eyes got big, "I didn't realize I said that out loud."

"Well, you did," Poot said as he laughed. "So why do you like that part?"

"Um, well, I'm new," Brittle Betty said as she looked at her sheet and began to rearrange her dice, "and I don't really know you guys too well."

My Lovely Bride gently patted her on the arm and said, "That's okay dear. We're all new sometimes, just not in Charlie's games."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said with a smile.

"Right," I said, "let's get to it then." Characters were made, names written down in my book, and we began.

"A month ago you were all hired as couriers for the TAB Trading Conglomerate. As condition of your hire each of you were provided with a horse for your journey and room & board until you were called up. Those you see next to you were bunked in the same room alongside you as a 'team building strategy.' Hard to say if it worked as your days were filled with the boring monotony of being constantly on the alert for your first mission and it seemed as though you were going to die of boredom before anything interesting might happen. 

"Then came Tuesday night. 

"You were roused from your beds, rushed out to the patio in a pouring rain where you and your bunk mates were brought your horses. In front of you stood an elegant woman that towered over you as a small man strained to keep her dry under a massive umbrella. Her voice was a deep baritone that sounded as though it started in her ankles before it ever came out her severe mouth. She looked your group over with a look that might have been called disgust if she could have just cared enough about you to form an opinion. 'Give it to the tall one,' she says with a dismissive hand wave before turning and going back into the office.

"Biggboy, a bedraggled goblin walks over to you with a sealed, leather scroll case in his hand. 'My Lady says you're to have this and to go east to Red Castle,' and with that he walks away."

Biggboy held his hand up and mimed handing the case to my Lovely Bride, "I'm not fucking carrying that thing."

"Oh, thanks," my Lovely Bride said as she tucked it into her belt, "knowing my luck Charlie's just given us a portable black hole that will break open and kill us all starting with my lady bits."

"Your lady bits," Brittle Betty chortled.

"It makes boys uncomfortable in their pants when you say vagina," she said.

"You know," the Master Planner said, "I've been trying to get one of those for the better part of the last two years."

"Oh," I said as I set my dice in a row, "how's that working out for you?"

"Fucking terrible. You can't get those things to grow for shit."

"So, anyway," Icarus said, "we were D&Ding."

"Right," I said, "so what are you guys doing?"

My Lovely Bride looked about the table and said, "So how are we doing this?"

"What do you mean," Biggboy asked. "I mean it's D&D. We're going to kill things and take there stuff."

"Naturally," she said, "but this reminds me a lot of Arabella and that has me worried."

"Arabealla," Brittle Betty asked, "what is Arabella?"

"Who," my Lovely Bride replied, "she was a cross-dressing half-giant that nearly killed the whole party back in '06. Icarus, She'rah who you haven't met but is fucking awesome, and Step worked for her for a while. Then we crossed her."

"As you do," the Master Planner added.

"And she came after us."

"Yeah," Icarus said as he set his abacus just to the right of his character sheet, "it wasn't a fun time."

"Good game, though," my Lovely Bride added, "but it ended with the first TPK I've ever been a part of."

"So are you saying we shouldn't do this," Brittle Betty asked. "I was kind of looking forward to going to the Red Castle."

"Oh no," Biggboy said, "no they're not saying that. They're saying we shouldn't fuck with this bitch."

"Right," said the Master Planner, "so we do this one mission and then bug out on her?"

My Lovely Bride turned her gaze on me, "Can we do that?"

"You absolutely could. You would have to return the horses and any additional equipment you have borrowed from the TAB Trading Conglomerate," I told her as I started making notes of their suppositions. I've always found it best to take the game in directions where their imaginations are leading them and do something along those lines. The game seems to have a deeper impact that way.

"Okay," the Master Planner said, "then I'm ready to go."

The rest of the group took a few minutes to purchase some last second supplies and off they went into the world. The rain came down hard and the paths they traveled were muddy morasses that found their horses hooves sinking into the muck. Still they persisted on through the night until early morning when they saw a light off in the distance, flickering dimly in the darkness of the pre-dawn hour. 

"Is that where we're supposed to be going," Biggboy asked. "seems like we're awful close to the TAB house to be there so early."

"I don't know," the Master Planner said as he studied the map I'd handed him before the left, "we should be at the Red Castle about now if every thing went as normal but with all the rain and shit we could still be a few hours off."

"Do you want to wait until dawn and check it out then," Icarus asked. "It might be the best option."

"I don't really want to wait," Brittle Betty said in almost a whisper.

"What did she say," Biggboy asked.

"She said she doesn't want to wait," my Lovely Bride announced. She then smiled at Brittle Betty and gently said, "You're playing with a bunch of deaf bastards, dear. You're going to have to speak up."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said with a smile, "I can do that."

"A better question," the Master Planner said as he stroked his beard, "is are you a sneaky, little, rogue-like person who might make his way up the hill and tell what's going on up there."

Brittle Betty flashed a smile that lit up her whole face. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I think I might just be."

"Good," the Master Planner said as he checked his character sheet, "I'm pretty shit as anything dexterity based. Anyone capable of rolling up there with her or is she just better off on her own."

"I'd, um," Brittle Betty stammered, "I'd like to do it on my own. If that's okay?"

"Of course it is," my Lovely Bride said, "just scream if you need us."

"Okay," Brittle Betty said as he picked up her d20. "I'm heading up there."

As the party watched Brian of the Seven Fingers slipped off his horse and disappeared into the darkened woods. Brian of the Seven Fingers made his way up the slippery hillside, deftly finding secure footing along the way, and with barely any sound beyond the heavy drops of rain splashing off his clothing. For nearly ten minutes he carefully made his way up the hillside until he approached the edge of a clearing where the flickering torchlight had lead him. 

The clearing before him stretched out into a muddy semi-circle about a dozen paces across at it's longest. In the center, against the back of the hill, stood a large red door half open with lit torches to either side of the entrance. The ground showed heavy traffic of large footed humanoids and deep, drag lines leading deeper into the hillside. Brian of the Seven Fingers noted all of this down before returning to his waiting companions.

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a smile. "It's bound to be fucking ogres."

"Ogres," Brittle Betty stammered, "are they dangerous?"

"They can be if we get surrounded," the Master Planner said.

"So what do we do," Brittle Betty asked as she looked about the table.

"I guess we should keep going," Icarus said, "I didn't really prepare to fight ogres this early."

"Ogres," Biggboy rumbled as he began checking his character sheet.

"We could," the Master Planner said, "but if that's their home then there's no telling how much loot they've got inside."

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a smile as he caught my Lovely Bride's eye.

"Shit," she whispered.

"Ogres," Biggboy said with a nod.

"What's going on," Brittle Betty asked.

"Ogres are what's going on," Biggboy boomed. "And we're going up that hill, kicking their asses, and taking their stuff!"

"Okay," Brittle Betty squeaked.

"Ogres," my Lovely Bride said as she began gently slamming her head on the desk. "Fuck you Charlie Akins. It had to be ogres."

"Ogres," Biggboy practically shouted!

"Ogres," echoed the Master Planner and Icarus.

"Ogres," I said with a smile. 

"God damned ogres," my Lovely Bride said.

New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather

Part 1

Part 2

New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather pt. 1

I was laying the bed, watching the ceiling fan cast odd shadows in early Monday morning light, when my lovely wife rolled over and slid her arm across my chest. "Honey," she whispered before blowing a loose strand of hair away from her mouth, "what are you still doing in bed. Don't you have to work?"

"I've been thinking that I'd like to run a game this weekend."

She rose up on her elbow to get a better look at me. "Are you sure," she said, "you haven't run anything in a year."

I watched the fan wobble overhead for a moment before I said, "Yeah, I think I would like to run again."

There was a slight intake of breath and even with her face blackened by the cloying darkness I could tell she was pensively chewing her lip. Finally she said, "Can I play?"

"Yeah," I said as I smiled at her, "do you think anyone else will want to play?"

"Are you fucking kidding me," she said as she rolled over and grabbed her phone. "I'll send out the invites. How many do you want at the table?"

"I'd like to keep it small if you don't mind."

"Sure, Honey," she said as her fingers moved deftly across her screen. "I'll just invite our core group."

I got up from the bed, "I'm going to get a shower and get ready for work." 

I took a quick shower, got dressed, and took my medicine as my Darling Bride came out of the bedroom. Her hair was a wild mane surrounding her face and she held her phone out towards me with her eyes closed, "the Master Planner, Brittle Betty, Poot, Bigg, and Icarus have all said they're in if you've got spots left."

"What are they doing up at five in the morning?"

"Who knows," she said as she turned back into the welcoming darkness of our bedroom, "but the game is set for Saturday at two."

"But I didn't tell you a time," I stammered.

"I didn't ask," she said as she closed the door.

"Right," I said to myself as I got up from my computer desk and switched off the light, "guess I'm running then."

Saturday

It's been a few years since I've been back home for longer than a weekend and as I pulled up to the new game shop, Dungeons & Dames, I found myself missing the old back corner streets with their busted streetlights where the dope dealers crossed to the other side of the street because two  dozen nerds poured out of a metal door in the side of an old factory building billowing smoke and talking about esoteric nerd shit. Those dope dealers would stand under the flickering neon sign of Lucy's Dinner while we stood under the orange glow of the sensor light and I would watch meth heads slink up in the eerie, flickering neon to buy their latest hit. Once I even saw a girl I had loved with all my heart over there. The beautiful girl she had been, and woman she had grown into, had been replaced by an emaciated skeleton covered in sores that reeked of cheap cigarettes and cat piss. She saw me too, and then she pulled up her hoodie and ran off down the street into the cavernous back of a van with no windows.

I haven't seen her since.

I climbed out of the Blue Fox, a little Chevy Spark I had bought for my wife earlier this year, and watched as the Master Planner came out the door with both arms wide open. "About fucking time you ran again," he said as he enveloped me in a hug that nearly took my breath away. "God, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," I said as I squeezed him back.

"Come on," he said breaking our hug, "people are going to think we're fucking if we keep holding on to each other out here."

"Right," I said as I looked at the door of Dungeons & Dames and saw Icarus bent over while Bigg feigned humping him from behind, "we're the ones they're going to think are fucking."

As I walked into the shop, saying hi to everyone I had missed over the last few years, I found myself slightly underwhelmed with the Dungeon & Dames role-playing game selection. They had a single bookcase to the left of the counter that housed all of their role-playing games. Behind their glass counter were Magic and various card games; and in the big room they had a Warhammer table set up and more figures than were probably strictly necessary for their volume of business. We went past all of this with Icarus leading the way through a winding corridor of rooms and dead end hallways until we reached the "Gray" room where they all turned to me with these tremendous grins on their faces.

"It's the 'Gray' room," my Darling Bride said as she nudged me in the ribs. 

"I noticed," I said with a repressed smile.

"Do you get it," she as she pointed to the gray walls and then to my notebook, "the gray room? Like, as in Greyhawk!"

"I get it, Darling," I said with a chuckle. "Gray and Greyhawk. You're all very sweet."

"So what are we going to be playing," Poot asked as he sat down beside me. 

"I bet it will involve dungeons," my Lovely Bride said.

"There's going to be dragons," Brittle Betty said as she took her seat next to my Lovely Bride, "I just know it."

"Well," I said as I opened my notebook, "let's see where you guys end up."

Found on Pinterest, Artist Unknown

New Saddle, Same as the Old, Just Better Leather

Part 1

Part 2

Black Mountain Burns, Part 2

Tuesday

I drove up to the Weekday Hotel where Tut was working nights and parked under the only light that worked in the parking lot ten minutes shy of eight o'clock only to find that the rest of the crew had already taken a lurking position in a darkened corner next to the pool. As I walked over to them I counted shadows and the flashes of light from cigarettes. Am I the last one to show, I asked, or are there more coming?

Step took my hand and shook it as he said, "Fucking World's Greatest Liar checked out on us, man."

That's no loss, I said as I looked towards the golden lights coming from the lobby door. We really playing in the Weekday Hotel? I thought Tut liked his job.

"He did," Icarus said, "but word just came down from the Home Office: they're closing at the end of the month."

Shit, that's a bad break. Is he going to be okay?

"Yeah," Biggboy's gravelly voice answered, "we already got him a job with my Uncle over in the Orchard."

"What's he going to be doing," Poot asked.

"I reckon my Uncle's going to be having him run the relay desk, sending the drivers out," Biggboy said.

Could be worse, I said as I watched Neverwas walking into the lobby. Now what's that fucker doing here?

"Ringer?" Step said as he lit another menthol.

"I invited him," Icarus said as we all turned to stare at him. "What? The World's Greatest Liar ducked out when he heard who was joining the table and we needed someone to cover his slot."

Has he stopped being a fucking martyr or are we going to have to watch his characters throughout this whole thing?

"No," the Master Planner said, "he's still God's only martyr and we'll have to watch him try to kill his character all night."

Fuck. Anyone want to end that early or should we let it play out?

"Let it play out," Poot said, "we'll just have to make it work for us."

Your call, I said as I raised my hands in the air. Anything else we need to worry about in this thing tonight. Any unwritten rules we need to be aware of? 

"Yeah, Ganymede's Prison is his baby so watch for him to be super protective of it," Poot said.

"That's if he actually let's us play in the damned thing," Icarus added. "He's been telling us about it for six months."

Cool. So we got a plan for tonight or are we just winging it?

"Yeah," Icarus said, "Step is raising us from the dead and She'rah is going to be recruiting you guys to help us stop Count Gambino from destroying Erfurt."

Gambino?

She'rah shrugged, "He likes Childish Gambino."

Fair enough.

"So what does the party need," the Master Planner asked as he ground his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Fighters and clerics," She'rah said. "We got our asses handed to us because we were heavy on magic but only had Poot for muscle."

"Fuck fighters," Biggboy said as he started walking towards the door, "they're just a bunch of whiny bitches hiding behind armor. Barbarians or get the fuck out."

Time to go in kids, I said following Biggboy's lead.

"Wait," She'rah said as she raced up beside me, "what are you and the Master Planner going to be playing?"

Master Planner?

"Ranger," he said with a wink. "I'm thinking it's time to renew an old rivalry."

Fighter it is then.

"So none of you are going to play a cleric," she said exasperated with us. "You just asked what we needed."

We've already got a cleric, I said as I opened the door for her.

"Oh," She'rah said as she gave me a look, "and just who the fuck is playing a cleric?"

"I am," Neverwas said behind her.

Called it.

Tut stood up from behind his counter as we entered and I was taken back again by the sheer size of the man. He stood nearly a head taller than me and yet he stooped his shoulders so far forward that we practically looked each other in the eye. "What did you call," he asked.

That Neverwas would be the cleric, I said as I took my seat. So how are we doing things tonight?

"Your call," Tut said as he took his seat. "I was going to run my Ganymede Prison adventure but since I've never played with you guys I thought it might be unfair to just jump into it."

"Unfair," Biggboy grumbled as he searched for a rogue d20 that had escaped under the table, "unfair for who? You? Or us?"

"Both," Tut said, "I haven't played with you guys before and I want to keep things right."

The Master Planner hit my leg, "That settles things as far as I'm concerned."

Oh? How we playing this?

"I'm Jim-Jim Wallace," he said as he pulled out his vape pipe, "My friends call me Jim-Jim. Anyway, I'm here with my family looking for a bit mischief in the form of treasure hunting."

Step smiled as he said, "Funny, I just remember that my rogue Alice's last name was Wallace. Seems I've just gotten back from a bad dungeon raid and am looking for some serious, family, backup."

"Well you've found it, little sister," Biggboy said with a little fake laugh he liked to use. "Cause your brothers Jim-Jim and Tiny Jim have just come into town looking for their favorite sister."

"I fucking hate when you guys pull this 'Jim' shit," Neverwas said as he snapped his Player's Handbook closed. 

"What's wrong with the 'Jim' stuff," Tut asked.

"It's there way of signalling that they're going to be fucking murder-hobos," Neverwas said in disgust.

"Oh," Tut said as he looked at Biggboy, Master Planner, and Step. "So what's your character's name, Neverwas."

"I'm glad you asked," He said with a huge grin, "I'm playing Timothy the Pious, devout cleric of Pelor and opponent of evil in all it's shapes and forms."

Tut's mouth hung open for a moment as everyone started first at Neverwas and then at him. If they hadn't looked away from Neverwas they would have seen him wink at Tut as he sat back in his seat. I saw it. I never look away.

"So what's your character's name," Tut said as he looked at me.

Jim Wallace. And I'm here to check on my kin folk. I certainly hope they're all alright or there will be Hell to pay for those responsible.

"I feel like this is going to go well," Tut said as he looked at Poot.

Black Mountain Burns, Part 1

"God damn it all," She'rah said as she flopped back against her chair, "we're fucked."

"Not yet," Poot told her as he leaned forward to get a better look at the board, squinting as though it would help turn the odds into their favor. "There's got to be a way out of here."

"You've got thirty seconds to make a decision, Poot," Tut said as he shoved another marsh-mellow into his mouth, "if you haven't made one by then you forfeit your turn."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Poot said as he leaned back.

"This isn't good," Icarus said from behind his Player's Handbook. 

"I know," Poot said as he looked back at him.

"So what do we do, gang?" the World's Greatest Liar said as he threw his arms up.

"Fifteen seconds, Poot,"

"I got it!" Poot shouted as he snapped his fingers, "Step you're bugging. Everyone else give him time to get out."

Step rolled his shoulders as he shook his head, "I don't like this."

"You've still got the bag, right?" Poot asked him.

Step looked down at his sheet for a minute, lost in thought, before answering, "Yeah. I've got it."

"Poot's turn is forfeited," Tut said with a large, hungry grin. "Step, you're up."

"I'm falling back behind Poot's fighter and changing my shape."

"Are you now," Tut said with a hint of malicious amusement in his voice. "And why would you do that?"

"My turn?" Icarus asked.

Tut stared at Step as he answered, "Yeah, Icarus, it is. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to run to the left with my barrel slung on my back screaming at the ogres to get their attention."

"Going for a feint, are you?" Tuts said as he brushed marsh-mellow powder from his chest. "Roll an opposed check."

"19," Icarus called.

"The ogres have all turned towards you and are preparing to charge."

"My turn," She'rah said.

"Sure, sure," Tut said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I'm lighting my arrow in our torch, and readying my shot for when Step tells me it's time," she said.

"Okay," Tut said as the ogres charged into the World's Greatest Liar and Icarus. Their clubs slammed against the earth and shook the ground with each massive blow. When they were done all that was left of The World's Greatest Liar was a messy paste clinging to their clubs and Icarus lay on the ground, his legs a useless ruin. 

When it was over Tut looked up from the board and said, "They all turn towards Poot with evil grins on their faces."

"Can I shout as free action," Icarus asked?

"Yeah," Tut said.

"Good," Icarus said as he looked back into his book and began to flip pages.

Poot leaned over to Step and asked, "How much longer do you need."

"I'm out on my turn," Step said as he pulled a cigarette out of its pack.

"Okay," Poot said. "Then I'm charging the closest one." 

"It's your death," Tut said as he looked away from the table with sly smirk. 

"Yeah," Poot said, "but not for long."

"What does that mean?" Tut said as he adjusted for Poot's damage.

"I'm up," Step called.

"Yeah," Tut said, "but what did you mean by that, Poot?"

"I'm a Chicken hawk and bugging out through the south bound window," Step said as he rolled. "And I just landed a natural 20."

"You make out the window," Tut said with a snarl.

"I'm shooting Icarus' barrel," She'rah declared. "Modified 22 to hit."

Tut looked behind his screen and began to work some numbers before he said, "You hit."

"Did the arrow pierce the barrel?" She'rah asked.

Tut worked behind his screen again for a few moments before looking at her over his glasses, "High or low?"

"High," She'rah said with a smile.

"Then yes," Tut said as the dice came to a rest in front of her.

"I'll use my free action here," Icarus interrupted.

Tut sounded surprised, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Icarus said, "I want to look at the ogres and say; I want to say, Hey you big dumb bastards. It's Booms-day."

"Booms-day," Tut said as he looked at him incredulously. "Why -"

"You remember a few sessions back when you told us that Alchemist's Fire is highly combustible and that a flame near it could cause it to explode," Icarus said as he laid down his Player's Handbook, "Well, that barrel I've been carrying around has 31 gallons of Alchemist's Fire in it that we bought back in Erfurt. We agreed that a flask of Alchemist's Fire is 8 oz back at the start of the campaign. So if I do a little bit of math," Icarus said as he began flicking his abacus back and forth, "that means that my barrel is holding 496 flasks of Alchemist's Fire or 496d6 points of damage concentrated on me and splashed onto every square around me for 1 point per flask."

"You just killed yourselves," Tut said with exasperation.

"No, we just chose how we won this fight," Poot said. "Besides She'rah and Step are out of the splash radius so that means the party won."

"I can't believe you guys would go this far just to keep from losing." Tut said as he began clearing the board.

"We're not done yet," Step said, "I've got a toe from every member of our party and I'm heading to Erfurt to raise them."

"Not bad," Tut said, "So are we on for next week."

"Yeah," Poot said as he started packing up, "By the way, are we starting that dungeon of yours?"

"Ganymede's Prison?" Tut said.

"Yeah, that one."

"Sure, if you guys want."

Step coughed and nudged Poot's leg. "Yeah, we want to do that, but we'd like to bring in three more players since it's supposed to be such a challenge."

"Who?"

"I'd like to bring in Biggboy."

"Sure," Tut said. "He's good people."

"And the Master Planner."

"Alright," Tut said as a look of concern grew on his face. "What are you leading up to here, Poot?"

"And I'd like to invite my brother, Charlie."

Tut leaned back in his chair, "So Biggboy, Master Planner, and Charlie. You guys are really taking this seriously, aren't you."

"We figured it's time you graduated," Step said as he lit his cigarette, "and had us at full strength."

"You're talking like you guys weren't trying before."

"We were taking it easy on you," She'rah said as she threw her backpack over her shoulder, "this was only your second campaign."

"But you guys have beat everything I've thrown at you."

"Oh we won," Icarus said, "we just didn't beat everything."

"What's the difference?"

"You'll see next week," The World's Greatest Liar said as he slapped Tut on his shoulder.

Poot stepped outside into the chill breeze of an early January morning and sent the text message he'd saved for three months.

Boys, get ready. We're burning down the mountain next Tuesday. Bring your dice and get ready 'cause Tut said you ain't got a hair on your asses and you ain't shit.

Dyvers Session 005: A Case of Mistaken Identity

If you're new to the Dyvers Campaign you can start from the beginning by reading the article The Dyvers Campaign Begins. You can also catch up on all the related campaign notes, session write-ups, house rules, and campaign fluff by reading the Dyvers Campaign Page.

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After the battle with the werewolf the groups' nerves were on edge. It didn't help that Jar'Kell, paladin of Heironeous, had fled before the battle in the grips of a violent illness; that had left them a man down during a tough fight.

"This mother fucker's a god-damned werewolf! 
Get this fool!"

With the dawning of morning they began to disassemble their campsite, only to be joined by the missing Jar'Kell. Silaqui the Sorceress was in no mood to mince words with the paladin, and spotting him first she made him hold at the edge of the encampment. There she had him strip naked so that she could begin to inspect him for bites, claw marks, and a large silver piece that she had shoved into the back of the werewolf during last night's battle while Yonkal the Artificer readied herself to strike him down if he resisted.

Together the pair inspected him their best but were unconvinced with their results so they asked the cleric Nef of Boccob (who had joined them that morning) and Gwaine, cleric of the Red Knight, to inspect the paladin. The two clerics moved slowly about the preening Jar'Kell until Nef had positioned himself behind the paladin - it was then that he struck. Swinging his heavy flail Nef struck down Jar'Kell proclaiming, "This mother fucker's a god-damned werewolf! Get this fool!"

That attack let loose the tension and resentment that had been bound up in the group, and before Gwaine could correct Nef's proclamation the paladin was down. Silaqui crouched over the unconscious paladin with her dagger at his throat as Gwaine vehemently argued that Nef was wrong, Jar'Kell was not a werewolf, he had fucking rabies. Silaqui would not be convinced until Nef confirmed Gwaine's diagnoses, and even after the cleric of Boccob had done so she got one last strike in against the foolish paladin.

The first room and already down a man

While the remainder of the party continued to fight amongst themselves over what to do with the damned paladin Elias the Monk sat quietly near the cavern's entrance and so was the first to notice the sounds from the mountain's top. There he heard a great commotion and he drew the groups attention away from their internal struggles and toward the greater problem at hand. Their own problems forgotten for the moment the group quickly decided on a course of action: into the caverns they would go and hope to sneak up on whatever is happening above.

Entering into the cavern they once again approached the underground lake and the canoes that had been set against the shore. This time they did not hesitate to enter them and pushed off into the unknown. In the first boat Elias the Monk and Silaqui the Sorceress rode, in the second came Nef, Cleric of Boccob, and Yonkal the Artificer, and in the final boat rode Gwaine, Cleric of the Red Knight, and Jar'Kell - who still slumbered in the boat.

The group moved along the wall and its massive relief of snakes, hybrid snake men, and of men being fed to some vile snake god. The walls seemed to writhe as they passed it, and perhaps it was some vile magic at work for they were distracted and did not see the gigantic crocodile that swam under them. 

It was too bad that they did not see it; for when it struck it shattered the boat Yonkal the Artificer and Nef, Cleric of Boccob, rode. Nef was knocked unconscious as he was thrown from the boat and within short order he was consumed by the crocodile. Meanwhile, Yonkal would be battling for her life against four smaller brutes!

From left to right, Biggboy (arm only), Kid Icarus, Master Planner, and the Glorious L

It was then that Elias the Monk sprang into action; leaping out of the boat and running across the large rock he vaulted onto one of Yonkal's assailants and began a battle deep under the water against a foe far more at home in those murky depths.While far above him Gwaine, Cleric of the Red Knight, strode across the rocky outcropping aglow with divine providence as he sought to aid Yonkal.

Great, devil-men, werewolves, and giant crocks. It's like we're in a fucked up version of the Wizard of Oz!

Gwaine would unleash his divine might against the crocodiles surrounding Yonkal as she made good her escape, but was unable to harm her assailants. Yet even as Yonkal made to higher ground all held their breaths waiting to find out Elias fate. 

For tense moments they scanned the waters only to find Elias had not surfaced. Then, just as hope began to fade, he burst from the water dragging his foe from the lake. And with the gentle patience that only a monk could muster, Elias calmed his foe and released him back into the wilds. 

"Great," said Silaqui the Sorceress, "devil-men, werewolves, and giant crocks. It's like we're in a fucked up version of the Wizard of Oz!"

What I've Learned

This session was a blast and after several sessions of feeling like I'm just one step off of my game I finally feel like I've knocked one out of the park. It really felt good to do that.

Couple cool things I've added to my game. When New Boy sat down at the table I presented him with a choice of envelopes. One would hold a full understanding of what happened to his paladin, Jar'Kell, during the previous night and the other would provide him with nothing. He, unfortunately for him, chose the one that revealed nothing.

That sort of choice seemed to really work well for him as it prevented everyone else from meta-gaming his responses and added a new level of tension to the proceedings that can often go missing without some form of private correspondence. 

I also provided 3 envelopes for the only skill check of the night that I could foresee: was Jar'Kell the werewolf. In the first envelope for checks with a score of 15 or less I wrote the message, Dude is absolutely a fucking werewolf. Get him yo! For checks of 16-19 I wrote, Could be a werewolf, could just be fucking sick with something foul. And for results of 20 or more I wrote, Dude has rabies - mother fucking rabies!

Biggboy, one sexy bastard.

 

I would be lying if I told you that those messages, which could only be read by people who made the check, weren't a hit. They had players laughing and they were able to add to the tension as Biggboy failed his first check and immediately moved to kill New Boy (which I predicted he would).

Really a lot of fun.

Dyvers Session 004: A New Chapter

If you're new to the Dyvers Campaign you can start from the beginning by reading the article The Dyvers Campaign Begins. You can also catch up on all the related campaign notes, session write-ups, house rules, and campaign fluff by reading the Dyvers Campaign Page.  

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He questioned their guides about the "Devil-men" and soon recalled a story told only in passing of a chaotic force bound to the destruction of the universe. A legend he had thought it, but perhaps not.

After traveling for several weeks through torrential downpours and wading through swamp muck the group of brave adventurers had finally gotten a clue as to where the threat hinted at by Tomas might come. They had found themselves in the company of the Lake Geneva Wahoos, a friendly tribe that had welcomed them with open arms, and began to hear tales of a vile group of devil-men who had been raiding local tribes.

Paige the Gully Dwarf was delighted to hear that the village needed help - so delighted in fact that she struck a hard bargain for the groups' aid: two quivers of arrows and a ceremonial dagger that was so rusted that not even Yonkal Hillstrider, the artificer, believed she might fix it. All the same the deal was made and the group traveled east with their guides Moe, Larry, and Curly. As they traveled along listening to their trio of brave guides their newest party member, Gwaine the Cleric of the Red Knight, seemed to be ill at ease with these "Devil-men." He questioned their guides about the "Devil-men" and soon recalled a story told only in passing of a chaotic force bound to the destruction of the universe. A legend he had thought it, but perhaps not.

At last the guides had brought the party to the great totem pole which protected the tribe from the Devil-men. Here the guides announced that they would go no further and ran from the spot. Jar'Kell, the scarred Paladin of Heironeous, attempted to goad them into staying but without any success.

Slowly, the group began to move forward up the sloping path toward the top of the mountain. The path they traveled had clearly seen lots of traffic as they could plainly see numerous tracks leading up and coming back from the mountain top. Ruts in the path made the going somewhat difficult but the group of brave adventurers were able to navigate the way without incident. 

Night was fast approaching when Paige the Gully Dwarf noticed a hidden cave entrance off to the west. She announced her discovery to the group and made her way over to the entrance where she boldly hid in the bushes as Gwaine inspected it for ambush or traps. Finding neither, Jar'Kell led the way into the cave where he quickly found a very deep pit. There was a discussion over how deep the pit was and how best to discern its depth when Paige grew tired of their blathering and dropped her Sunrod down the pit.

Gwaine sputtered over the loss of such a valuable item while Silaqui the Elven Sorceress counted the seconds of its descent. Forty seconds did the sunrod fall and so she reasoned that the pit was some 200 ft deep. A great discussion was then had as the group debated how to traverse the pit. Eventually a decision was met and everyone successfully made it across - only to find that Jar'Kell could not spend the night in the cave. 

"When that fucker returns he's stripping naked, and if I find a goddamned silver coin in his back I'm slitting his fucking throat!"

It was agreed that the group would spend the night at the cavern's mouth and take watches throughout the night without a fire as the full moon would give them plenty of light to see any approach. Throughout Yonkal's watch Jar'Kell seemed to be coming down with some ailment that only got worse as the night wore on. He claimed that his skin seemed to be on fire and his belly burned. He vomited blood and soon found himself running as fast and as far away from the cave as his legs could carry him. Yonkal watched him go without a word spoken and woke up Paige the Gully Dwarf to cover his shift. 

Paige sat up watching the night pass while everyone else slept. What thoughts crossed her mind as she watched the path up to the Devil-men's village and listened to the howls of a growing number of wolves I cannot say. But as the wolves came closer she woke the others - only to find herself too late as a werewolf broke through the undergrowth and attacked!

The battle was fierce but in the end the group won the day. Yonkal was badly injured and Silaqui now voiced her belief that Jar'Kell had been the werewolf. Stating flatly that, "When that fucker returns he's stripping naked, and if I find a goddamned silver coin in his back I'm slitting his fucking throat!"

What I've Learned

After last week's disaster of a session what a relief tonight was. Things went well and everyone seemed to have a much better time of things. I changed up from my normal grid-less style of play to providing the players with some visuals. Normally we don't even use miniatures but tonight I wanted to try that out and see if it improved the overall play experience. So far the verdict is in the positive.

New Boy was better behaved on this occasion and seemed to enjoy the game quite a bit more than last time. He has apparently not learned that when you provide a Dungeon Master with a hook into your character that a good one will yank on it. His scarring was done at night by an animal that he never got a look at, so he didn't know what happened. 

I love when players say things like that.

During combat I intentionally moved New Boy out of the scenario so that I could let him run the monster. This way he would get to see how combat in my games works when you're not directly involved in the conflict and it would alert him to the idea that he can't really let himself be an inactive participant in the game when his character isn't there.

30 Day Dungeons and Dragons Challenge, Day 13: The Best Traps of Mice and Men . . .

Kid Icarus contemplating his next move

Kid Icarus was playing a character named Caster the Trap Master and he, along with seven other players, were exploring a vampire's villa. For several hours the group had been split up with Caster and Tik the Barbarian in one group and everyone else with Step-up's rogue Andrea.

Now Andrea had encountered a rather complex door trap early that evening which involved a Gelatinous Cube suspended in a tiny hole above the door handle and best she could determine there was no way she could prevent the Ooze from exploding out of the hole. So, with the help of her group, she removed the door from the wall and with great care laid it against the railing of the second story walkway. The trap did not trigger and the group went on with their explorations.

For several hours each group continued exploring the villa before they rejoined one and another during a confrontation with the Vampire. This fight was long, bloody, and ended with the deaths of two of the group. At this time the house began to flood with blood. The party picked up their dead and raced out of the building crossing paths with the door. Everyone went over and under the door without hesitation - everyone that is except Caster the Trap Master.

Caster stopped what he was doing and began to examine the trap. From below he could hear the party working on the door. Andrea was unconscious and their only cleric had died so Tik and Ogre were hacking away at the thick, thick oak door. Still the trap intrigued him. So he attempted to remove it, and the door handle with the trap.

I can still remember the look on Baby Momma's face as Kid Icarus rolled a natural 1!

Dyvers Session 003

If you're new to the Dyvers Campaign you can start from the beginning by reading the article The Dyvers Campaign Begins. You can also catch up on all the related campaign notes, session write-ups, house rules, and campaign fluff by reading the Dyvers Campaign Page.  

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The session began with Tomas talking with the group after the previous night's events. In a stuttering, restrained manner he explained that he could not help them directly with their situation as events were beginning to unfold in the world of Oerth that brought dark tidings and if he were found to be involved with them things would only be exacerbated. What he could do, however, was to introduce them to some new traveling companions that might help them in finding the root cause of these bizarre events and point them in the direction of Deadfall Moors.

Rillen the Changeling and Yonkal Hillstrider (the only two original characters that were being played that night) were introduced to Tok the Half-orc Bard, Meg the Half-elven Sorceress (and sister to Tok), Brian the Brawling Sorcerer, and Jar'Kell the Paladin of Heironeous. The group mulled their options for most of that day as Jar'Kell argued that they should avoid the Deadfall Moors and instead head to Veluna so that they might combat the hordes of humanoids that threaten to overwhelm that once proud land. By the following day he had relented and agreed to follow everyone else into the Deadfall Moors. 

Rain was coming down heavily as the group made their way east and hunger soon had them making camp. Brian laid down in Yonkal's tent and was fast asleep while Tok attempted to play his lute without much success. As Tok's out of tune lute playing continued Yonkal and Meg attempted to learn about each other.; while Rillen the Changeling and Jar'Kell left the camp: Rillen to hunt and Jar'Kell to scout ahead.

Yonkal and Meg wisely choose to stay the fuck away from the big fucking deer.

After some time Jar'Kell determined that his scouting was essentially fruitless and decided to hunt instead. He stealthily moved through the woods until he came to a clearing some hundred yards north of the campsite. There he spotted a deer larger than any he had ever seen before. It was easily three feet broad and its antlers were so large that his six foot wing span could not encompass them. He took aim, fired, and watched in dumb disbelief as the massive beast turned on him and charged. 

With a single strike the deer bloodied Jar'Kell and tore the front of his armor to shreds. He cried out as it then stomped on his leg and turned to leave. Unfortunately for poor Rillen it turned just in time to avoid his magical strike.

All of the commotion of the battle had gotten the attention of the camp and soon Yonkal, Meg, and Tok had abbandoned Brian as they rushed to discover what had happened. Yonkal and Meg would be the first to arrive; just in time to see Rillen's now lifeless body being shaken like a ragdoll by the massive deer. Jar'Kell drew his falchon and attacked the beast only to be dropped as well. 

Yonkal and Meg wisely choose to stay the fuck away from the big fucking deer.

Tok, on the other hand, charged into the beast and was soon enraged. It was then that Meg revealed his secret to Yonkal: Tok was no bard, rather he was a barbarian. Tok and deer exchanged blows until finally Tok cleaved its head from its shoulders.

What I've Learned

After nearly a five week layoff from playing Dungeons and Dragons we finally got to play the Dyvers campaign again. I love running an ongoing campaign but after such a long layover I should not have allowed three new players to come in; but my brother and his wife were able to play for the first time in three years and I just couldn't say no to them and I wanted to interject some new blood into the group . . . The end result was a night where the game did not live up to its normal levels of enjoyment for me or for the group. The Master Planner in particular seemed to have a terrible time and that just bummed me the fuck out. I take a lot of pride in how my sessions go and when things get wonky I take it very personally.

The other problem was New Boy. He has potential to be a really good player, but he has been around too many bad players up to this point. He has no table manners and attempts to dominate the game. Twice I had to instruct him that it was someone else's turn and that he would have to wait for his to come up again. A third time and I would have kicked him from the table. 

Biggboy will just fucking kill his character and move on.

I can clearly see where he has been playing and who he has been playing with in the two years since I last gamed with him. I can see their fingerprints in how he role-plays and how he thinks the action should take place. From Neverwas, the World's Greatest Liar, and the Madman he's been taught that each player should attempt to dominate the action and that the others should just fucking suck it up. He should be contrary and self-important. In a word: a douche. 

I will break him of sucking eggs just as I have every other player who attempted that shit at my table and I will enjoy watching the Master Planner, Step-up, and the Might She as they mold him into a great player that can hang with the best of them. That is unless Biggboy comes in with the next session. 

Biggboy will just fucking kill his character and move on.

My plan now is to go back to my old stand-by and relearn my craft by reading my Referee's Toolbox file that I keep on my computer. I've filled it with all the important articles on Dungeon Mastering I've encountered over the last few years. It seems like every time I have a bad session rereading that file really helps me get back into the proper groove.

30 Day Dungeons and Dragons Challenge, Day 9: Favorite Character NOT Played by You

My favorite character not played by me was run by Kid Icarus. The character was a Half-orc Barbarian named Ugg. What a glorious character that was!

Ugg was famous for not being able to make a decision without some arbitrary decider. For example, he once flipped a coin for every decision he would make. The party goes left, but the coin says go right, Ugg went right. And he would lose contests that he should easily win - like when he arm wrestled the gnomish wizard. Then there was his armor! My god his armor was made from bits and pieces of his enemies. An Umber Hulk claw was on his right shoulder and a Dragon's skull covered his left. A goblin's skull covered his crotch and a Hell Hound skull was his helmet. With each new enemy he picked up some new piece of armor for his hodgepodge suit. It was disturbing in the best possible way.

Kid Icarus also had the best quote from that campaign.

Ugg was turned into a dog and I was trapped in an entropic state by the Entropic Reaper (from Libris Mortis: the Book of the Undead pg. 98). Master Planner had died two sessions before and Thief 1 had taken off with his druid and animal companion the very session before this one. So with Ugg's transformation and my trapping our damage output had been reduced to a point where we were only doing 20 points of damage a round to a creature that was clearly absorbing most of our damage.

Things were bleak.

Then Kid Icarus proclaimed, "Yes! My Will save went up!"

30 Day Dungeons and Dragons Challenge, Day 8: Favorite Character You Have Played

My favorite character of all time was a Half-orc Monk named James Spinoza. He wore the traditional eastern monk robes in the colors of tan and orange and had a tremendous under bite that caused him to drool. He never used a weapon other than his fists, feet, and tusks.

God, I miss that character!

I took him from level one to fifteen the hard way. I would scrounge for every experience point while Neverwas, the Dungeon Master, handed them out to good boys and girls like they were M&Ms. Unfortunately for me his version of a good boy and girl was someone who worshiped his Nameless One and followed his storyline to the letter. I was never very good like that, nor was the Master Planner, Kid Icarus, or Step-up. Instead we tended to look for trouble and confront it.

Our gains were incremental for a long time till we started encountering enemies that no one else wanted to face. Dragons, liches, devils, and demons; they all fell before us. And we leveled. Slowly, steadily, we leveled.

It was by confronting trouble that we were able to advance in level. Kid Icarus, Master Planner and I were always at the lead of every outing. We killed 90% of all the creatures we faced until Step-up joined the expedition at which time we began to kill 95%. No matter what Neverwas threw at us we were able to survive. A monk, a barbarian, a ranger, and a rogue standing outside a twelve man party and killing everything that crossed us. We roll played as well as anyone else at the table. But while Poot and Baby Mamma would be awarded a thousand experience points at a time we were given bread crumbs. 152 experience points, 75 experience points, 295 experience points. Our gains were incremental for a long time till we started encountering enemies that no one else wanted to face. Dragons, liches, devils, and demons; they all fell before us. And we leveled. Slowly, steadily, we leveled.

Master Planner died first, then Step-up.

Still we adventured on. Across the multitude of bastardized planes and into the Hells we went. There everyone died - except for me and Kid Icarus. We had fought together for nearly a year and a half, two sessions a week averaging four hours each. When things went south we survived.

Neverwas stopped running that night and James Spinoza was retired - alive.

Magic Item: The Ring of Negation

I have neither the problem of feeling bad about fucking up my players nor the problem of giving them too much too early; rather my problem is that I give too little too late. 

Kid Icarus has been running his own campaign for nearly a year now. We talk shop quite a bit and one of the problems that he has discussed with me off and on has been that his players have way too much magical shit and are walking over his monsters.

Now both of us hold with the Dungeon Master's Guide that . . .

When things get unbalanced, you need to fix them either in game or out-of-game, depending on the situation and the involved players’ personalities. Unbalanced character abilities or items are best handled in-game . . . (DMG pg. 14)

In my experience Kid Icarus has a terrible time dealing with these sort of issues in game. Usually what he does is labor under the players abuse until such time as they get sufficient level to where he can actually smite them without feeling guilty. I have neither the problem of feeling bad about fucking up my players nor the problem of giving them too much too early; rather my problem is that I give too little too late. 

Anyway, my solution to the problem of having too much magical gear on my players is to create an item that can address the issue in short order: a cursed item. 

Of course I like my magical gear to have a nasty side.

The Narrative

It was in the fall of '07 that the Dwarven Lord Luca watched as Holdfast burned. The goblins of the Eight Shores had swept through the valley of man during the night and slain every man, woman, and child. They swarmed even now over the valleys and up the sides of Krak Stormwind like a writhing mass of vermin. Within their ranks were mighty necromancers and shamans who tore the very fabric of reality with their foul magics and corrupted the earth with their steps.

It was Lord Luca who commissioned the Ring of Negation and the seven Rune Lords of Krak Stormwind who bound the soul of the foul beholder, Necros, within in it; sealing his soul forever with their ancient runes of power. And it was brave Sir Lawrence who strode into the writhing mass and gave up his life to end the foul magics of the swarming horde.

The Game Mechanics

The Ring of Negation causes an antimagic field to radiate 80 ft. out from the wearer. This effect cannot be canceled with anything less than a limited wish spell as the effect is created by the bound beholder, Necros. In addition the ring has been cursed by Necros' presence. Without some way to suppress the magical effects of the ring it will bind itself to the user after twenty-four hours of cumulative use, at which time Necros will begin to attempt to switch his soul's place with that of the bearer (Will DC 23 to resist).

For Kid Icarus

Last night I was talking with Kid Icarus about an upcoming Greyhawk campaign he would be playing in and I wanted to share a bit of his concept with the world just so other people could appreciate his creativity as much as I do.

Kid Icarus wants to play a wizard that uses evil to fight evil. He had a name for the class but damned if I remember what it was. At any rate the thing that made me enjoy this concept so much was the part he needed my help for, his back story.

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The Story

Kid Icarus' character was an orphan who was raised in a temple of a good god, possibly Pelor. For years he grew up there learning the faith and growing to adulthood. Then one day a wondering cleric joined the church and slow things began to change. The good men and women who had raised him seemed in a daze and muttered darkly to themselves. The teachings of Pelor seemed to be altered, at first subtly and then more substantially till one day he found himself in line to be sacrificed before an alter in an obscene perversion of the faith. It was then that the vile cleric revealed himself as a follower of a dark god and summoned a demon to kill the entire congregation.

Kid Icarus escaped from the blood bath and has sense spent his life tracking down the murderer of his friends and family.

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Now where I come in is the Kid is looking for a location for his character to be born and a couple of good gods to throw in there. So here are my suggestions:

Location

For events such as those in Kid Icarus' story to occur he's going to have to be a nation where such things could easily go missed. I'm thinking that the best nations would either be the Great Kingdom, the Wild Coast, or the Pomarj.

The Great Kingdom is the mostly likely source for such a tale of woe. It has a large volume of land where this could occur without outside influence; a corrupt kingship that consorts with devils and all sorts of diabolic forces; and enough of a vengeful streak in its populace to serve as a cultural touchstone for his character. As for the city I'm thinking that a repurposed Jalpa would suffice.

If that doesn't really strike a cord the Wild Coast would allow him to call the settlement an old pirate outpost and he could just make up any name he wanted which would answer why no one knew of it and why they were undisturbed during the events of his story.

The Pomarj would work by in a similar manner to the Wild Coast with one additional detail: he would have to be a refuge from the Orc and Goblinoid uprising on that blood soaked peninsula.

Evil Gods

Wastri

When it comes to evil gods in the Greyhawk setting there are really only two or three that work in this story: Incabulos, Iuz, and perhaps Wastri.

Wastri is the least likely of the three vile gods to be of any real use to this story, but if Kid Icarus' character, and the majority of people in his temple, are of any race other than human then it would not be beyond the scope of a cleric of Wastri to do some sort of foul corruption upon the land as Wastri holds pretty close to the line "If it ain't human, it's dead." The problem with using Wastri is that he's pretty pathetic as an overall enemy. Sure he can cause problems, and his clergy are no joke, but when you think about evil frogs are not exactly the first thing you think about and that's really what Wastri is about: frogs, bullywugs, and amphibians. He's the creepy kid that used to harangue you about his amphibian collection and smelled of spoiled chili.

Iuz

Iuz could work in this situation as the vile god responsible for the cleric, corruption, and the later murder of the temple's populace but I would be hesitant to use him. Where Wastri's motive is easy to discern Iuz is a bit more difficult and would really require the Dungeon Master to participate a bit more in the backstory than I think Kid Icarus is comfortable with. You see, Iuz is like the Stalin of Greyhawk: evil, massively powerful, and power hungry. He won't risk his clergy on an evil act just for evil's sake. There has to be some sort of underlying intent whether that's an expansion of his boarders or some sort of payback from a perceived slight is up to the Dungeon Master, but it is a question that will need to be answered. Also, unless I were to want a heavily combat oriented cleric I just wouldn't want to use Iuz.

Iuz is responsible for so much visible evil in the world of Oerth (the Greyhawk setting's name for the planet) that a character bent on revenge would be constantly rushing off to fight. That's okay if you love combat as I do, but it could really put a cramp in your ability to develop a more nuanced character as the Kid is prone to do.

Incabulos

No, for my money the best evil god for this situation is Incabulos. His clergy is secretive and they love to corrupt others in their nefarious plots. But more importantly is Incabulos' relationship with the major forces of evil in the universe. He is feared by both good and evil, so much so that ". . . he is feared by even the princes of Hades and the dukes of Hell . . . (Dragon 71, pg 53 Gygax). That fear alone could make demons and devils do the bidding of his clergy without the usual caveats. That's a huge bonus in crafting the story that Kid Icarus has in mind for his character and presents a situation where revenge becomes a quest - unlike with Iuz where his followers are quite literally everywhere.  I guess what I really like about Incabulos is that using his clergy as the evil focus gives Kid Icarus a situation where he has to use all of his cleverness and creativity in order to find, kill, revive and kill again those vile bastards that destroyed the lives of everyone he has ever known and loved. Those are the sort of situations  where Kid Icarus really shines and where he makes a Dungeon Master better - because if you can't keep up with him once he starts rolling then you're going to look like a complete hack incapable of even tying your shoes let alone running a game of Dungeons and Dragons.

Good Gods

Trithereon

Now while Kid Icarus has a pretty good idea who he would like to use as the gods his character would be following I would like to make the following suggestion: Trithereon.

Trithereon, is the god to whom I would join if my faith in Pelor were shattered and someone had to fucking pay for the vileness that had been done to me, my family, and my friends. He is the god of retribution, individuality, freedom, and self-defense - and he's aligned with Pelor which is easier to rectify than some of the other gods. By following him I would be free to fuck up the people responsible for my temple's destruction without worrying about a bullshit alignment shift (which is a worry with the Dungeon Master Kid Icarus is going to be playing under).

Further, I would have access to the domains Chaos, Good, Protection, and Strength which is a pretty good selection and for my money better than Boccob's set of Knowledge, Magic and Trickery (the Kid is leaning toward Boccob from our last conversation). Also, my choice of weapons is far better as my deity's favored weapons are the shortspear, longsword, and greatclub; whereas, Boccob's favorite weapon is the fucking quarterstaff. Trithereon gives me some kick ass options, lots of room to grow, and if another cleric doesn't like the way I'm praying, fuck him. This is a god of individuality and freedom I can do as I want.

Trithereon!

No other god gives me as many built in protections for the sort of acts I would lay at the doorsteps of those responsible for the evils that have been visited upon me. No other god will respect the hell that I bring against those evil and vile fuckers and still hold me close to his bosom.

Trithereon!