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 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.

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.