Witchspire Hill: Session 1

Date: April 22-25, 1,051 HR

Our first night of play began with our hardy adventurers arriving at dusk outside the gates of Null's Harbor, principle town of the the Kingdom of Gnut. Upon entering the town, the party lost little time tracking down the truth to the rumors that had been trickling down the coast road into central and southern Thrang. After some inquiries were made at The Green Griffon tavern, the party made the acquaintance of a local jack-of-all-trades known as "Filthy Pete," who claimed to have information about the strange goings on in the Stony Brow Hills and the stories that had lured the party to Gnut.

According to Filthy Pete, five months earlier, a mysterious black tower manifested itself one night atop a remote hill know as Witchspire Hill. No one witnessed any construction of the structure - it was simply "there" one November morning. Needless to say, the bizarre occurrence created a stir when news of it reached the Null's Harbor which lay just one day's march to the west. Unable to resist the lure, a local adventuring company known as "The Wild Boys" headed out to investigate. They returned to town one week later telling tales of an extensive network of tunnels, galleries, and chambers laying beneath the tower. Significantly, they also returned with treasure in the form of gold coins, gems, and some strange and foreign looking objets d'art. After resupplying, "The Wild Boys" headed out again to investigate "The Witchspire" as locals had begun to call it. That was late November.

As of yet, they have not returned.

Following the discoveries of "The Wild Boys," two other adventuring companies - "The Undermountain Boys" and "The Bronze Dragon Adventuring Club" - set out for hill hoping to recover additional loot. Not a single member of those groups have returned either.

Despite the obvious danger, our adventurers could not resist the lure of possible treasure to be found and quickly formulated plans to set out for the Witchspire on the following morning. After some negotiations with Filthy Pete, they managed to convince him to come along as a guide and even serve as a shield bearer for Igmar Houndhaven, one of the party's magic users. Filthy Pete offered to find an additional hireling to serve as shield bearer for Silas Graylock, the party's second magic user. Pete made good on his promise and returned the following morning with an affable if somewhat dim-witted bumpkin named Dent Footknocker.

Also at the Green Griffon, the party learned from three burly dock hands about the recent execution of Gnut's Queen. Apparently, King Hardric VII, current monarch of Gnut discovered that his wife, Queen Yvonne, had been cuckolding him with her music tutor. He promptly dissolved their marriage and had her executed. But because Queen Yyvonne was sister to King of Alfonso, ruler of the Thrangian Kingdom of Eknad, a political dispute has ensued. King Alfonso is not at all happy about the execution of his sister and tensions between Gnut and Eknad are nearing a boiling point.

The following morning, the party made ready to leave town by purchasing supplies and questioning some local merchants who had purchased some goods from the Wild Boys.

But while leaving Bytor's Magic Shop, the group's two magic users, Silas and Igmar, were approached by an indiviual identifying himself as Legas who claimed to be an agent of Hezroat, a prosperous local spice merchant. After cornering the two neophyte mages for a private conversation, Legas informed them that his master, Hezroat, would pay everyone in the party 100 gp each if they returned to town with the head of Bartok, leader of "The Wild Boys." Legas offered no information concerning Hezroat's motives in offering this deal. After some discussion, Silas and Igmar took the deal, but decided to keep the deal to themselves and not tell the rest of the party.

The rest of the morning was uneventful except for the actions of Thimble, the party's thief, who took the opportunity to pilfer a silver comb from a merchant's stall in the central marker square.

The trip to the Witchspire was uneventful and the party arrived late in the afternoon on April 24.

Upon investigating the tower itself, the party discovered what appeared to be a ransacked wizard's tower. Little was learned beyond that, but the group did find a secret compartment containing a scroll and book bound in red leather, both written in a strange and unfamiliar language. After camping for the night, our adventurers finally began their descent into the regions below the tower on the following morning.

There, the group began exploration of what they presumed to be a large underground complex. And sure enough, the complex was not uninhabited. Horrid undead in the form of ghouls and a strange bull headed skeleton assailed the party within their first hour of exploration. It was here that we suffered our first loss. Rayleen Marybegotten, a female fighter, was savagely gored to death by the bull headed skeleton during the desperate, torch-lit battle. Though shaken, the party decided to continue, and after stripping Rayleen's corpse of all useful items, they did just that.

And this is where we left off, poised on the edge of the unknown mysteries and dangers that lie beneath Witchspire Hill. Nice work everyone.

Experience Points Awarded: 43 points per character. 5 bonus points go to Thimble for her theft.

Next Date

I'll post a campaign update sometime in the next few days, but for now I'd like to throw out some possibilities for our next session. How does Friday, April 16 or Saturday, April 17 sound for everyone?

Welcome to the Kingdoms of Thrang

The Kingdoms of Thrang, also known as the Thrangian Kingdoms, are a collection of minor principalities, about sixty in number that lie along the eastern edge of the Great Western Sea. [Editor’s note: For those of you who have played in the Fallen Lands before, the northernmost part of Thrang lies about 560 miles due south from the town of Southwaite on the Hrothgar Peninsula]. The region is populated mostly by humans. Thrang is characterized by rolling hills and deep valleys. Its Kings and Queens rule from dark and ominous hilltop castles and forts. The climate is warm and temperate [similar to Northern Virginia in our world], but gloomy. The towering Somber Horn Mountains that comprise Thrang’s eastern border effectively block the moisture laden west winds that blow from the sea, making the region quite rainy and almost perpetually overcast.

To call the Thrangian principalities “kingdoms” is quite generous, in fact; most have a population that averages around four to five thousand souls. But kingdoms they are nevertheless, each ruled by its own monarch and attendant aristocracy. All of these minor kingdoms share a common culture and religion, one of the main reasons for conceptually grouping them together in the first place. Moreover, most of the Royal families of Thrang have intermarried over the years, thus strengthening and reinforcing the bonds that give the region its unique and distinctive identity.
Despite this sense of commonality, however, there is seldom peace in Thrang. The Thrangian Kingdoms are given to great intrigue and rivalry. Blood feuds, plots, schemes, and outright war are common in Thrang as its various petty monarchs vie and compete in the attempt to usurp each other’s power.

[Yyrg the Bald, chief historian at Canaladaer Keep, described Thrang as existing in a state of “perpetually controlled chaos.” These remarks were made in his famous treatise on the region entitled Mandeville’s Travels: An Actual Excursion to Thrang Along with Imaginative Speculations of the Lands of the Distant South which May or May Not be Ruled by Snake Men.]

There are several reasons why the region does not simply devolve into total anarchy or gradually coalesce into increasingly larger and more powerful polities as the various kingdoms annex each other.

First, the threat of outright war is somewhat held in check by the fact the entire region is threatened from without by even greater dangers that could potentially spell the end of all the Thrangian Kingdoms. To the north lies the dreaded Wargwood Forest, home and spawning place of hordes of foul undead. To the east, Thrang is bordered by the towering Somber Horn Mountains. In one sense, these mountains are a blessing in that they shelter Thrang from the predations of the fierce Gnoll tribes that rule the Pack Lands beyond them. But, the mountains are also home to their fair share of monsters. Each spring and summer, bands of mountain Trolls, Ettins, and primitive Giants descend from the Somber Horns to raid the eastern kingdoms. To the south lie the Pirate Holdings of Zed, another source of continual danger. Given that Thrang is surrounded on all side by such threats, its ruling monarchies have naturally come to a tacit understanding that whatever their potential grievances with each other may be, it is in everyone’s best interest to collaborate militarily at some level for the common good.

Conflicts between the kingdoms thus tend to involve assassination attempts, espionage, sabotage, duels, and other forms of covert subterfuge. Nevertheless outright war between kingdoms is not unheard of.

The second, and perhaps most significant cause, for the “stabilized chaos” that characterizes Thrang is the Church of Wee Jas, Goddess of Magic and Death. This church is the official, royal religion of almost every kingdom in Thrang. According to custom, the Thrangian monarchs all rule with the divine blessing of the Goddess and the church maintains major temples in every monarch’s court. The church must sanctify every royal marriage and coronation. Make no mistake though, Thrang is not a theocracy. The church’s power, while considerable, is mostly of the “indirect” sort. It has no power to pass legislation and commands little in the way of military power. Because they lack the strength to affect a complete takeover of power, the Magician Priests of Wee Jas must be content to manipulate the political landscape from behind the scenes. But it is in their best interests to maintain the current state of fractious squabbling among the Thrangian monarchs. The more those monarchs are at each other’s throats, the easier they are for the Magician Priests to control. A strong ruler, one who amassed considerable power and allies would be threat to the power of the church. Thus, the church maintains a highly trained cadre of clerical advisors who pour honey into the ears of Thrangian kings and queens, who subtly arrange a marriage here, a poisoning there, all in the name of maintaining the status quo.

To be sure, Wee Jas is not the only deity worshipped in Thrang. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of minor deities, are worshipped by the common people. Demon and Devil worshipping cults are quite common.

Our Game begins in the Kingdom of Gnut, ruled by King Hardric the Seventh, which lies at the extreme northwestern tip of Thrang. Gnut huddles under the eaves of the feared Wargwood Forest from which the walking dead are frequently known to wander. The villages of Gnut thus have good walls and stout gates. Merchants and travelers are advised to go armed and avoid the roads at night. There are wolves, zombies, and worse things loose in the dark.

You have come here lured by the promise of adventure and treasure. Vague rumors have reached your ears that strange things are afoot and treasure has been found in the Stony Brow Hills, a rugged and desolate region that separates Gnut from its eastern neighbor, the Kingdom of Zilb. These hills are home to many weird ruins, remnants of a lost civilization that predates the rise of Thrang. Some of these ruins may hold ancient treasures. Vague, partially formed, hints have trickled southward down the coast road and reached your ears, something about a mystery in the hills and the possibility of loot.

We begin with you heading northward on route to Null’s Harbor, a port town on the Western Sea and Gnut’s principle settlement. You are several hours from your destination. It is mid afternoon and a steady drizzle falls from the nickel grey sky overhead. It is April, the cruelest month. Pray that it not be for you.

Session 1 - The Fallen Lands (RSVP ASAP)

Date: Friday, March 19 2010

Start Time: 7PM

Location: DM's Home.

*Please RSVP in the comments as soon as you can. If you need an address or directions, let the dm know in the comments as well.

It looks like we are going to freeze the dramatic fight between "The Eight" and the goblins (and other?) inhabitants of Giantscrag and start our next round of Eime campaign sessions in medias res when we return to the Island.

Our next session, then, will be devoted solely to starting our next campaign in Ironbeard's "Fallen Lands" setting. In the coming days perhaps our dm can post and/or send any campaign-related information to the players?

Finally, it would be great if all the regular players in the group weigh in on the comments about their availability on this new date...I know many of you have responded negatively to the 3/20 date, but let's try to get a March session going before we slip into April.

Next Session & Comment Test

Date: Saturday, March 20 2010

Start Time: 6PM

Location: TBD

We've been having a fairly serious comment problem of late that threatens to make the Blog a bit useless compared to other media for organizing the monthly sessions of our group. I've followed just about every help suggestion that seems relevant via Blogger/Google so I would ask that all who read this drop a quick comment so I can help determine if the problem has been solved or at least minimized.

Those in the group who still find themselves unable to comment, please send me an email.

Session 8B - Eime Campaign / Session 1 The Fallen Lands Planning (Please RSVP)

I'm still planning on posting an abbreviated summary of Session 8a before we next get together to complete the session and this round of the campaign, but in the meantime let's start talking about Session 8b and the beginning of our next campaign cycle in the Kingdom of Thrang.

I won't be free again until March 20 at the earliest, so I thought I'd take a chance and see who could make it if we held our next session next weekend. So who can make:

Date: Saturday, March 6 2010

Start Time: 6PM

Location: TBD

*Please RSVP in the comments as soon as you can.

Session 8 Planning Update - Eime Campaign (Please RSVP)

Date: Friday, February 19 2010

Start Time: 6PM

Location: The dm's humble home.

*Please RSVP in the comments as soon as you can. If you need an address or directions, let the dm know in the comments as well.

The Islands of Eime Campaign - Session Summary 7

A Brief Account of the Activities of the Party in the Year 640LB, during the Fourth Week of the 10th Moon, between the Day of the Rabbit and the Day of the Weasel.

In our last session those that call themselves The Eight not surprisingly found themselves struggling to find their way through the Frowning Forest. Seeking to return to the Jinstown compound to regroup and rethink their pursuit of the retreating goblin armies, in the end it was a long abandoned Eime memorial that they found instead of the isolated refuge home of Pog Jin. And, true to form for many in the group, the decision to explore and pick through the old bones of a dead civilization took precedence to rescuing the kidnapped Steevin Jin. At the end of our evening of adventuring the party had fully explored this "Memorial to the Ones First Lost" - including using considerable cunning to gain access through its magically sealed door and to its secret crypt area.

After having fled the devil in the dark, our adventurers debated and decided their best bet given the late hour and lack of visibility was to follow the purr of the Brass feline statue first discovered in the tomb of Sybil the Lachrymose. The Eight walked on through the dark trees well into the evening "following" the sound, and, as it turned out, walked well longer than sense suggested proper if they had indeed been heading in the direction of Jinstown.

Our heros then attempted to reconsider what to do once it had become undeniable that they were lost. Besides an obvious 360 degree turn and return in the believed direction of the amphitheater and hideous Bone Devil, the party's female monk Lilyak sought out moss on the surrounding trees that might suggest a north/south direction. Upon discovering that a thick black moss covered a wide swath of trees in their entirety - thus being no help in distinguishing north from south - the two magic users of the group were struck by an unknown magical power that deprived them of their entire memory of the last 24 hours; including, most importantly, their knowledge of the spells and proper incantations they had prepared that very morning.

As a result of this sudden unexpected and unexplained weakening of the party in an already precarious position, The Eight prepared to make camp and wait for better luck to prevail in the morning sunlight, however defused it might be through the veil of the high forest canopy. It was at this point that Drin the fighter, on reconnaissance of the area immediately surrounding the camp, abruptly stumbled upon an impressive sight: a near 18 foot tall wall of heavy Eime brass that jutted out from the tree line and blocked their path. The perimeter of this giant wall - covered in layer upon layer of thick and jagged intimidating-looking thorns - was traced by the party and by their best guess determined to be a complete ring or circle extending some 90 feet in diameter. Having a well-justified concern for their safety should they expose themselves with a camp in the open, the group made a deliberate and patient scaling of the the wall of this imposing ring and hoped to use its inside perimeter for protection from the general horrors of the Frowning Forest.

On the inside of the ring The Eight found a serene and beautiful garden of luxurious grasses with a gentle and satisfying aroma. At the center of the deep and thick and unblemished grass garden lay a collapsed stone structure with only a single tall metal candle stick positioned directly at its center, itself topped with a large candle that appeared to have never been lit. After setting up a guard schedule, the party retired to an evening under a nearly opaque sky while reclining on the most comfortable of plots of land they had found on the Island.

The morning of the Day of the Weasel brought the discovery by fighting man Ayak Akai of a simple 3ft by 3ft flat and plain panel or plaque of brass inlaid in floor of the stone monument. Akai's gaze seemed to trigger the emergence of an Eime sentinel face that greeted his countenance and the faces of those around him with the exclamation: "We are glad you have come back to us. The sisters forgive everything...If you but ask and show us your true faces." This statement was addressed to the names "Cassia the Wistful" and "Luir the Intemperate". With a flash of insight, Akai recalled the casual gift of two white masks The Eight had received from the Lord Mayor of Colony Company Town 2. These masks were made of a strange light painted wood in the shape of faces exaggerated in their elongated features. Nearly one month earlier Newbold Philo had referred to these masks as "Elven" in origin, so the fighter Akai and the magic user Gwyd donned the two masks in the possession of the party and starred back at the face in the floor.

The crackling of crust built up on a mechanism after eons of disuse followed, and the stone plate dropped away revealing a few stone stairs down into an unknown darkness. Understandably curious, the adventurers followed the opening down into a tomb structure that, to the extent a glance may reveal, seemed considerably older than the resting place of Sybil the Lachrymose they had found within the Boundless Buckle mine. As they moved down the stairs en masse and began to take note of all significant details, none other than the fighter Akai whose quick thinking had gained them access in the first place found himself triggering a pit trap to open beneath him and which dropped him some 20 feet deep into a thick pool of an awful liquid. After a brief encounter with some water-born rats, and the discovery of a rusting but not ancient suit of plate mail armor, Ayak Akai was pulled back to safety and the party continued to explore the strange antechamber before them.

Beyond the pit they found a slightly large room with a door along one wall, a statue of the Goddess Eime along another, and an roughly carved but unadorned stone wall to the left of the statue of the goddess in the pose for which she is most often represented: drowning Pelor's children in a garden well. The large door appeared to be composed of iron and although no obvious hinges could be located, three large metals dials could be discerned along with four identical groups of symbols set around each dial. The statue had written along its base in the Eime script the inscription "I've Returned for I am Sorry" and a noticeable leftward orientation to its left hand and its overall gaze.

The monk Lilyak - again proving herself brave and useful to her comrades at arms - stepped forward, Spear in hand, and repeated the words on the inscription into the open ear of the statue, introducing herself as the barrier of one of the weapons first used by elf to murder elf. At this declaration, the statue shifted subtly and pronounced a puzzle to the group:

"Once to the Left, and One Small Step Down.

Twice to the Right and Your Salvation is Found.

Embrace Any Other Path, My Sister

And to Oblivion Your Soul is Bound."

For several minutes the party pondered this strange polysemousness. Taking a chance that its left/right reference was to the strange iron door and its dials, the party pressed upon the magic user Cleg's adjutant Smutty Booth to test their interpretive readings by setting the dials to their direction while the party removed itself back up the stairs for safety's sake. After promising the reluctant young man Booth a share in the total haul from the contents of this particular delving, he stepped forward and seized the chance to show his fellows and his master his true mettle. And as he set the last of the three dials into position in accordance with his master's instructions, The Eight collectively gasped as Smutty Booth of County Cash simply ceased to exist before them.

It took the party just over four minutes of great suspense to find their way to Smutty's prison. In this time the party successfully solved the puzzle spoken by the goddess made possible by the invaluable suggestion of the Drin the fighter that the party disregard the iron door altogether and search instead for trace of a secret door on the one bare wall that was to the left of the brass statue of the beautiful and young filicidal goddess. This search, in turn, lead the group into a secret passage and, even further, to a secret door within the passage itself. Leading the way at several turns - vocally if not physically - was the normally reserved Finneaus Cleg who stopped at several times to call out for his missing comrade in the hopes that his reply might guide their pursuit.

Once they had decoded the initial riddle of the statue, the party lost little time in moving through the rest of the small complex of rooms and soon after they entered the largest room they'd yet encountered; a vaulted room filled with 10 stone sarcophagi. Ominously named "Ten to Replace the Ones First Lost", this room was scavenged and our heroes found more than minor reason for rejoicing in the discovery of the weakened and seriously dazed but still very much alive Smutty Booth sealed in one of the tombs pinned along with several other human skeletons.

The elation at the rescue of young man Booth was palpable among many of The Eight when even his master had come to fear for the worst. But this elation was short-lived as the group found itself immediately set upon by pack of jackal-like creatures that attempted to storm into the room as The Eight braced to defensively open the large doors that blocked the end of their path. These creatures, resembling jackals with black fur, burnt with a black/red fire that shed no light and looked black when viewed in the fire light of the adventurers. Acting and seeming as other undead act and seem in most ways, these fierce creatures were unlike most other undead in at least two notable ways in that they seemed only minimally corrupted and rotted, and, what was worst of all, that the black fire that surrounded these beasts could stream forth and envelope other creatures, doing minimal damage, but damage none the less to several party members.

Of all members, Ayak Akai took the brunt of this damage. This is because the group agreed to position the fighter in the narrow neck of the passage to act as a human breakwater against the encroaching jackal-beasts, beating them back with foot and sword both. Akai lasted a great many rounds in this highly vulnerable position, and to his credit destroyed several of these savage undead beasts before he eventually succumbed to cumulative damage and was forced to retreat to the back ranks of the party. As the few remaining "Hydu" (a small scroll later discovered would reveal their name to be) pressed into the room the party was able to dispatch them handily given the work of the fighter Akai.

In the final room of the memorial complex The Eight found a large pedestal, a chest made assembled bones, and ten humanoid skeletons posed in position of guard about the chest, frozen yet each baring a sword that marked them potentially dangerous. Agro the Axe suggested the warriors of the party take up position around these creatures and when the step from Drin onto the pedestal triggered their attack, the adventurers were well positioned to easily dispatch these weak undead foes before any serious damage could accrue to any party members.

In the final stages of the exploration of the memorial, while other members busied themselves attempted to break open the unfamiliar lock on the chest of bone, the fighter Drin stepped away from the party to explore the area immediately behind the central pedestal and in the processes stepped on a pressure plate that set to opening a large drawer anchored itself with a long femur that seemed to serve as a decorative handle. Out of this space emerged the awful Gibbering Mouther that save a tremendous stroke of good fortune would have surely taken her life. Our evening came to an end with the party coming to the quick rescue of the unconscious Drin and removing its newly acquired loot back towards the opening of the complex.

Total XP per PC (not including individual XP bonuses): 411

Session 7 - Hero of the Night

Hi all - Can we have some discussion and final votes in the comments from folks regarding their choices for "Hero of the Night"?

There are clearly lots of good choices, and I've posted some insightful comments on the subject by Andy in the comments to get us started. Please vote early and often as is your pleasure.

First, a Word from the Mouther

Because I am just that kind of obsessive personality: I thought I would throw up a quick apology (in the strict classical sense) regarding a mistake I made very very late into our last session on Saturday night.

For better or worse for players, I take a little pride in not pulling punches when death truly is on the line in a game. Above all, I think players should know that that the PCs live in a dangerous world where death is always possible. Even more, I think there is a kind of justice to the rule of the arbitrary dice in these circumstances. My sense is (although I could be wrong about this) that players learn to respect the choice not to fudge or change rolls for no reason other than to benefit the PC in situations where death is a likely result, and, even more, that they can become quite peeved if they perceive that this Rule of the Abritrary isn't uniformly applied to all. If all feel themselves equally subject to the capricious determination of the dice, then, somehow, the rule of the dice seems less capricious and even less arbitrary as if (again, somehow!) a little bit deserved.

At the very end of the final encounter of a long night of gaming, the latest addition to the adventuring party - a plucky female fighter named Drin - acted perhaps a bit rashly and found the tables had turned on her more quickly than she had anticipated. One moment the party found itself victors over 10 skeleton "Ones First Lost" and almost counting their treasure, only to be immediately faced with a terrible Gibbering Mouther. Drin found herself strategically cut off from the rest of the group, opening herself up to at least one attack from this awful creature before she could retreat.

Again, let me emphasize that it was very very late at this point.

But as I rolled the six attack rolls (see my exhibit 1 from the ad&d Monster Manual II above) I mistakenly attributed 3 points of damage to each of the 3 mouths of the mouther that successfully attached themselves to Drin, and then announced to the group that Drin had suffered a total of 9 points of damage that round. Drin's player Julia quickly announced at this point that Drin had died as a result of that damage, having had sustained a wound in the earlier combat and only having had 3 hit points left before the Gibbering Mouther attacked. I don't think I am alone in saying that this came as a complete surprise to me. I had sort of thoughtlessly assumed that Drin might be crippled by the surprise attack, but capable of living to fight another day. And I don't think I was the only one thinking that.

Given how surprised several of us were at the announcement of Drin's sudden death, my realization moments later that I had incorrectly calculated the damage of each of the Mouther's mouths (since each mouth = 1 point damage and not 3 as I had mistakenly assumed, then the correct total was 3 mouths = 3 points damage) no doubt sounded like it must have been too good to be true. Rather than dead, our new adventurer Drin is only knocked unconscious and does indeed live to fight another day. Understandable sidelong glances predictably followed from my correction of my mistake. Could it be the DM so brazenly changed a roll?

And I also suspect that Julia herself is the kind of player who would object soundly to undeserved treatment of behalf of her character. So I also wanted to explain this event and to post the creature's stat block to remove any doubt from all minds. (I'm sure you've all lost sleep over this issue). As you can plainly read above, there is no way that during the first round that the six mouths the mouther used to attack could generate 9 points of damage. At maximum, had all six mouths struck, 6 points of damage could have been done that first round. And, given my error at the time, I would have called this 18 points of damage. Deadly stuff, those Mouthers. But 18 points is pretty steep for a creature of its challenge level (so is 9 points for only 50% hit rate) so I suspect that I would have been tipped off to re-read the stat block either way.

Rest assured, however, that this judgmental DM still blames Drin's very near demise on her own impetuous grab for just a bit more before the night ended. Just wanted to make it clear that he is not responsible for Drin's near-miraculous survival. The Rule of the Arbitrary is still firmly in place.

Thanks for another great night of gaming, everyone. Session summary to follow shortly.

Session 7 Planning - Eime Campaign (Please RSVP)

Date: Saturday, January 30, 2010

Start Time: 6PM

Location: Batman 1970's place

*Please RSVP in the comments as soon as you can. If you need and address or directions, please let Bat know in the comments as well.

The Islands of Eime Campaign - Session Summary 6

A Brief Account of the Activities of the Party in the Year 640LB, during the Fourth Week of the 10th Moon, between the Day of the Dog and the Day of the Rabbit.

10th Month continues to prove itself cruelest on the Island of Eime. Far from their homes, surrounded by treacherous slavers, secret organizations, and wild goblins that breed like cockroaches in the many cracks of the great Eastern Mountains, the adventuring party that calls itself The Eight moved 24 hours closer to end of their first month on the island. A day earlier they were hired body guards serving a supporting role in a straightforward transportation mission. As the exploration and negotiation this session continued, the party changed its purpose and now found itself acting as the de facto special operations forces for this reclusive and tight-lipped (even if friendly) community of deep-forest homesteaders.

And, perhaps more importantly, the session ended with the adventurers in full flight and retreat into a dangerous and virtually unknown forest well after the sun had set. Such a choice would appear unwise or hasty in all but the most extreme circumstance. The discovery of the party by a devil made of bone whilest they had busied themselves looting its treasure convinced The Eight that such drastic measures were required in this particular instance. The dm humbly agrees with the collective judgement of the party on this matter.

Aron, Gwyd the Silver-Tongued, Corbin the Grey Haired, Finneas Cleg, Agro the Axe, Ayak, and Lilyak the Monk ably proved themselves in their collective defense of the homestead of Jinstown as our session opened. The patriarch of Jinstown - the ever-convivial Pog Jin - provided support to the group with some precious supplies of Eime weaponry (apparently horded by his father's original adventuring gang nearly 4 decades earlier). And The Eight also made good use of the green but motivated townsfolk, including two of Pog Jin's own sons, Markus and Palus, in their careful and well-reasoned pre-assault planning. But it was clearly their deliberate tactical preparations that made their defense of the homestead relatively easy. Despite attempts to draw the PCs out into the open, our adventurers held their position and forced a bottle neck in what seemed to be the first wave of goblin assault. Add to this some strong work with bows fired from positions high in the Great Hall and behind the palisade as well as the clever idea to light the entire battle field so as to negate the goblins' natural advantage and, for the first time since the very first session, not a single PC or NPC in their direct service died during the night.

Through some thoughtful dialog with Pog Jin, the PCs were given access to an ancient scrap of Eime parchment that appeared to be a letter from one "Sister Emmel of the Great Mother Island Elves". This letter, long an incidental part of Mug Jin's cache, describes a withdrawal of the Eime elves to a mountain "retreat" called Lilymar at some unknown point in the past. It also instructs that all available treasure should be brought for safety to Lilymar in its secret location, as well as "all available of your children to feed the One." One result of reading this ancient billet was the successful search by Finneas Cleg for a tapestry in the Jin collection that responded to the needle he had received as a gift from a Weaver in Stonewell. In point of fact, Cleg found two such tapestries in Jinstown (as well as the suggestion of a third) and each responded to the touch of the needle by magically revealing a map hidden in the fine threadwork. Unfortunate as it is for our party, it was not immediately obvious to anyone just what place this map depicts.

When additional waves of the goblin assault failed to materialize, the PCs learned that Steevin Jin - the brother they had left behind them on the trail to Jinstown through the Frowning Forest - had himself been kidnapped by a goblin assault force after The Eight had left his side. As a result of his brother's kidnapping, Pog Jin showed the party fear and worry for the first time. At this time Pog Jin also tried to further secure the aid of our adventurers by digging deeply into his father's weapons cache, and offered to each of them a weapon of absolutely unique construction. Swords that do additional damage and give bonus to attack, spears that wrench flesh and return when thrown, small metalworks that scurry over the body and make themselves at home there...all designs beyond most imaginations of the ordinary people of Emerick. And yet all the members of our party - having only just glimpsed Pog's great book - would feel justified in thinking that these gifts were only drops in a great well that is this man's collection of relics and exotic weaponry - the sum total results of a lifetime spent picking the lowest of the lowest hanging fruit on Eime.

The rest of the session was spent with the party exploring the remains of three now-deserted goblin camps that were discovered just beyond the tree line. In addition to pieces of a letter to the three goblin-kings Onox, Mirt, Onnag by someone calling him/herself "Arnot the Young" that strongly suggest that the collaboration of the various tribes present during this aborted assault were ordered by another party entirely, in effort to gain access to some "Toyalis Tapestries". Also, the exploration of the three camps revealed several goblins corpses (each wearing inferior leather armor with crude blades in red chalk across the chest) piled together with their throats slit and two divergent paths leading away from the goblin camps. It was determined that one path was chiefly marked by the prints of horses stolen from Jinstown and the other marked exclusively by the large majority of retreating goblin foot soldiers.

Some might think it odd, but rather than exploring either of these two options, The Eight took a chance and followed instead the strange and unexpected "purr" of the brass cat they had discovered a week earlier during the exploration of the tomb of Sybil the Lachrymose. Here, deep in the forest, the statue lead them to discover what appeared to the party to be a "piece" or fragment of the Brass Rail highway (a highway that all current inhabitants of the island believe ends miles to the south and west of their current location, by the way). Not sure what to make of their discovery, the party followed it, even going so far as to forego their chance to return to Jinstown before the sun falls.

Stuck somewhere deep within the Frowning Forest, The Eight followed this lost section of the Brass Rail as it lead them to ancient Eime outdoor amphitheater built out of the side of a small rock outcropping in the Frowning Forest. As they approached, the party happened upon a small light in a third floor window, as well as a young woman's scream from the stage area of the theater. After a very quick search of the area (and the evasion of a giant centipede discovered in the basement), our heros made their way through the theater at a quick pace, finding the body of a young women suspended by chains directly above the stage, with several deep-set wounds designed to allow her blood to drip away from her and flow down to a lower, basement level.

Exhibiting a lack of even the slightest of desires to give the recently deceased minimal respect in death, the party left the young woman's still-warm corpse hanging where they discovered her, and sought to finish its search for the third floor light they had seen on their approach. In the process of this search the crew encountered (and defeated) an aging, drunkard magic-user calling himself Lazlo who attempted to shrug off a drug-induced cloudy head. Helping themselves to his property (including a strange tomb bearing the title "Gruumsh's Ineffable Malice"), various members of The Eight expressed interest in a Lazlo's dying comments about "his pet" and decided that the party was sufficiently strong to press on to the lowest level of the theater and finish their survey of the building.

One locked door and one secret stone door under the ampitheater stage later, the members of The Eight set their eyes on what is likely to have been the single largest pile of coin and jewel they had ever seen prior. There it sat, apparently for the taking, and the group hesitated only a moment before rushing forward to take a share. And while each party member was able to quickly fill their pockets and spare bags with precious stones and gold coin, just as soon as they had each taken their share an enormous Bone Devil burst into the area and gave immediate chase and our prudent adventurers turn and fled into the night.

Total XP per PC (not including individual XP bonuses): 989

HERO OF THE NIGHT VOTE

Thanks again to all who were able to make it. If you were a player in Session 6, it is very important that you take a moment and cast your vote in the comments for the player that you think deserves the bonus xp for the session. In a couple of cases this might make the difference between leveling up or not, so please share your thoughts asap.

Looking forward to the 30th and to a virtual session whenever enough of our players let me know their interested.

While you wait...

Another great evening lasting well into the morning hours! I promise to have the summary and xp totals for Session 6 posted within 24 hours, but in the meantime I'd like to enlist the help of any interested members of the group on a very short project.

I'd like to coordinate with 1-3 other folks a test of a free and simple software that might be very useful if we ever try an entirely "virtual" session. Called, GameTable, this software is really basic and suits our purposes exactly (at least I think it does).

All that would be required of the needed playtesters would be to download the software and spend no more than an hour some time in the next week or so trying to set up a "game" with my machine as the host.

If you're interested in helping me out, download the software and left me know in the comments.

Session 6 Planning - Eime Campaign (Please RSVP)

Suggested Date: Friday, January 15

Suggested Time: 6PM

Suggested Location: TBD (Suggestions?)

*Please RSVP in the comments as soon as you can.

UPDATE: We are set to play both 1/15 and 1/30 at 6PM. Please update your status in the comments if it should change.

UPDATE 2: Our 1/15 session will be held at the dm's home starting at 6PM.

The Islands of Eime Campaign - Session Summary 5

A Brief Account of the Activities of the Party in the Year 640LB, during the Fourth Week of the 10th Moon, between the Day of the Frog and the Day of the Dog.

Barely four days have passed since the party that once called itself "The Eight" left the tricks and traps of the tomb of Sybil the Lachrymose and found themselves in the employ of the Brothers Jin and the collective wives, husbands, and families of the Jinstown Homestead. During this short period of time The Eight faced ambush twice, came in contact with the mysterious cult of Weavers, was hunted by owlbears, chased by dire wires ridden by goblins, and practiced the fine art of prisoner interrogation with both extreme predjudice and with what some might judge a touch of malice aforethought. And, as always, the lives of those who come into the employ of our adventurers continue to be brutally short.

As the evening of the Day of the Dog of the last week of 10th Moon set in, our wayfarers ended their long day of travel apparently under seige inside a lonely and isolated family homestead set deep within the Frowning Forest. Here, in a place the locals call Jinstown, they find themselves besieged by an unknown number of goblins who are hiding just beyond the pallisade of the homestead in the surrounding wilderness. And, most worrisome of all, our adventurers find themselves desperately short of escape routes and potential allies-to-the-rescue.

The path that brought them to this destination started with the decision by the magic users Finneas and Gwyd to leave the Boundless Buckle mine in County Cash and head toward the Frontier Region of south western Eime Island. While most populated areas of the island have been loosely organized into administrative units or "counties" by the ruling families of the Colony Trading Company, the "Heel" or Frontier Region has been largely left alone as it is considered to be too far away from resource or source of trade or commerce to make regular administration economical even if it were potentially profitable. A wild, river valley region, the Frontier sits between the unmapped vistas of the Eastern Mountains and the dark expanse of the Frowning Forest. It has much about it that is untamed and beautiful and precious little about it that could qualify as civilized or settlted. The only two true cities of the region - Gold Run to the north and Threshold to the south - are widely looked upon as dangerous and havens for the worst sorts of scoundrels. And while the continual prospect of a large strike or discovery in the Eastern Mountains draws new blood to the region every month, it remains the case that most of the population of region come here to escape something. Or someone. If there is such a place as the middle of nowhere, "The Heel" is easily located somewhere near its backwater. Or, if you prefer, it is the place where those who are already lost go to remain that way.

Moving on temporarily from the Boundless Buckle on the previous Day of the Mouse, and not wanting to have their faces seen so soon again in Colony Company Town 2, our party sought out the seasonal shanty village of Stonewell in the Frontier Region in search of new partners and hirelings as well as looking for interesting, new employment. During the course of an excited evening of chat and drink with several conversation-starved prospectors, The Eight observed a procession dedicated to the Leper God, along with several other would-be worshippers of new and second-rate deities lining the only road in town, prostilitizing to all who will listen. Finneas Cleg himself was approached by a member of the strange Order of the Weaver and offered a silver needle and brass wire "thread" in fulfilment of some unexplained vision.

Additionally, it was during that evening in Stonewell that our adventurers first became acquainted with the couple of Steevin Jin and his young companion Ila as well as gained three new full share members to their association - Lilyak, a female monk, a stout and steadfast warrior who calls himself Agro the Axe, and a woman fighter, Drin, who displayed a quick wit and deft skill with a sling. After some conversation, Steevin Jin offered The Eight short term employment as protection for a transport of recently captured wild white horses rare but native to the Island. The transport would take no more than four days and leave from the famiy homestead set deep within the Frowning Forest and travel to the city of Threshold at the mouth of the River Fingol.

On the Day of the Cat the party set out north up the River Fingol on an unnamed barge with both Steevin Jin and his young wife on board, as well six oarsmen and Captain Jaan. Ambushed at Misha's Ferry after a full day's journey, The Eight smartly and without hesitation dispatched several attackers using a combination of team work, melee assault, magic, and a final well-aimed cross bow bolt fired at an underwater target by Ayak Akai. Even more, The Eight learned through interrogation that the marauders were a section of the Iron Ring - a mysterious slaver gang composed of small, quasi-independent cells composed of "Hounds" (former slave foot

soldiers), "Reavers" (cell leaders) and "Bosses". Showing a bold and borderline malicious streak, the Halfling Horvan Graveltoes lead a series of escalating interrogations in which flesh was torn and eyes removed in order to attain information to his satisfaction from captives named Erle and Finbar.

In the end, these interrogations showed much about the mettle of our adventurers. From their would-be assailants they learned some odd details about the Reaver of this particular cell of the Iron Ring, a magic user named Goldmir, as well as about recent raids on local homesteads in search of "tapestries" at the order of Goldmir. And at the offer of good pay, a former Two Eye calling himself Milyx joined the party as it set out the next day into the Frowning Forest towards Jinstown. Milyx's tenure with The Eight tied or perhaps even bested a record originally set by the hireling Elbert for the shortest term with the party, with his death coming later that day as the razor-sharp beak of an Owlbear ripped his head from his shoulders.

As the party moved deeper into the Frowning Forest, they emerged into a large clearing extending for several miles to the west and north. Notable, too, was the change in weather, the first change experienced since our adventurers set foot on Eime Island, to a damp, cold, and wet. And, almost immediately upon entering the clearing, the advancing party was set upon by refugees from Steevin Jin's homestead called Horse Meadow. These refugees, mostly women and children with a few surviving men, lead a small wagon train in flight from their homes that were set to torch by a raid of goblins. In response to this news, our adventurers accepted Steevin Jin's request that they head swiftly towards Jinstown in hopes of aiding against any related goblin raids or attacks, leaving Jin himself behind to guide the wagon train.

Finally, no summary of our last session would be complete without mentioning the loss of Teenie Tenbar, the promised fiance of Cleg's faithful adjutant Smutty Booth, to a well placed arrow fired by a bowmen of the Iron Ring. Tenbar had served the party quite well as a hireling, and just how Smutty will take this loss in the long term remains to be seen.

Total XP per PC (not including individual XP bonuses): 533