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.

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 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.

30 Day Dungeons and Dragons Challenge, Day 6: Gods

Dagda

Back during the very first serious campaign I ever played in I had a Dungeon Master who could best be described as a fuckhead, but more generously you would call him a waste of sperm. At the time we were friendly and the campaign seemed alright enough - especially when you consider that I had never played in a campaign that lasted longer than two nights at that point. Anyway, during this campaign he would constantly pull out his own characters and establish each as an invincible, epic character that somehow needed my first level ass to help him. That was annoying. What became worse was when he established one of his characters as a god within the campaign world.

I killed powerful non-player characters (NPCs) at the drop of a hat, even going so far as to openly murder one of my own characters during the game

Every session of that campaign became an excuse for him to turn the game into a circle jerk. I grew to hate that campaign and would eventually leave it to create my own. That first campaign was more about savaging what I didn't like than what I did. I killed powerful non-player characters (NPCs) at the drop of a hat, even going so far as to openly murder one of my own characters during the game. Apparently I wasn't the only person who hated that old campaign as my group swelled from six, to twelve, to sixteen, to twenty-two players.

Best version of this book, ever.

I am very proud of that campaign, but nothing in it excited me more than a god I dropped in to mock that earlier bullshit. I hated the god from dickhead's campaign, the Nameless One. It was meddling, pedantic, and trite in all the ways that every Forgotten Realms god only aspires to be. So I flipped through the pages of Deities and Demigods and contemplated how best to mock that fucking annoyance. It was then that I found one of the greatest gods in my gaming career: Dagda.

Dagda could split himself into twelve different personalities and I used each to satirize the Nameless One. One aspect of Dagda would mimic the Nameless One while another undercut him. Each aspect terrorized the other and would harry the players whenever things got too boring. I constantly worried about crossing the line and working myself into a self-aggrandizing position as king of shit castle. But in the end I avoided even that by killing off the god.

I miss him often, but the point was made with him and you cannot dreg up past successes just because you have nothing going on now that excites you anywhere near as much.

Fucking Marvel and DC should learn that lesson.

30 Day Dungeons and Dragons Challenge, Day 5: Favorite Dice

When I first started playing Dungeons and Dragons I was really big on having sets of dice that all matched, and for a long time I held to that little eccentricity. Then over time I just, sort of, let go. I started taking the best dice from each of my sets and cobbling together a Frankenstein set.

The d6 on the right is a rock steady die. It rolls 3 and 4 more than 1 and 6 but I like knowing that I can count on it to stand by me and provide me with a decent amount of damage. The d8 by comparison is just a throw in because I tend to roll very high with all my d8s. Always have been partial to them.

Interesting story about the d10s and the d4, I naturally rolled them that way when I was dropping the dice out for the picture. I love good dice and those three have been my standards for five years. The d10 on the left actually helped me kill three of Neverwas' favorite characters.

What a good fucking die.

The speckled d20 with yellow numbers is my stand-by d20. It's held me up on nights when all my others abandoned me. When I rolled 40 natural 1s in a row with 40 different d20s; when I was down to my last save versus the Entropic Reaper (from Libris Mortis: The Book of the Undead, pg. 98); and when my wife's cat ate all my other d20s. It's a solid die that stays in my games even when I don't need it.

Then we come to my two favorite dice in my set, the Death Dice and the Standard Bearer. I found the Death Dice on the first night that I ever ran a Dungeons and Dragons game. It was there all alone in the back of Elton's Lifetime Loser Lounge - a single d6 abandoned by its master. Naturally I picked it up and used it that very night. With nothing but a single kobold and a morning star the Death Dice dropped three players in a row. I've kept it ever since rubbing it for luck during important rolls and letting it loose to deal the damage it begs to unleash.

The Standard Bearer was from the very first set I ever bought. He's not the last of his brethren, but he's never left my side. He'll roll high as often as he rolls low but no matter what the cost to my sanity I still use him. I still lay him out first when it's time to play and though the stand-by will guide me through in a pinch, the Standard Bearer will make me remember him.

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Just a note on the lateness of this post. I had it saved to publish on the 5th but Blogger ate it.