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Zenos
2008-02-23, 05:04 PM
Simply put, write about your latest gaming session, for good or bad.

I had a session for just a half hour ago. I was playing the first session of a solo campaign with a TN Human swordsage 6 using a flaming katana (language!), specializing in Desert Wind and Diamond Mind with a sprinkling of Shadow Hand.

I wrote a diary for the character which I am posting here:

"12 march, year 700 AV (Anno Vladislav, a guy who united the humans)
Dear diary
We neared port today, when we saw smoke rising from the town.
I convinced the captain to set me off nearby, and encountered three orcs. I guessed they would be hostile, so I slaughtered them.
Then along came a hobgoblin patrol, I evaded pursuit and sneaked closer to the town, which was realy easy, you could hear their armour miles away. When I came in front of the town wall I encountered another grobi patrol, and they gave me a deal, I defeated their champion in single combat and I could come into the town. At first I started to laugh like the maniac I am. The hobgoblin was a martial adept of the Iron heart, and was tough, but I managed to defeat him with my combination of Desert Wind and Diamond Heart. I finaly cut him in two.

I was then escorted to their leader, a master of the Iron Heart, who told me that the hobgoblin empire had subjugated all but one rebel city. He in turn asked me why I had come to town, and I answered that i had come to find the resident Desert Wind master. He had died defending the city from the grobi, it seemed.
I was asked permission to leave, well, it was more of an order, and I went out into the city to find an intact inn.

However, this was one of those days that everybody I encounter try to kill me at least once. I was attacked by a mob of vengeful orcs. One of them even blasted me in the face with fire, and I was not even using the flame's blessing. Still, their clumsy blows and feeble attempts at enchanting me bore no fruit, and I slew both their shaman and his apprentices.
Then another one of those strange things happened. A bunch of ninjas attacked the orcs. And the ninjas were attacked by hobbos. And the orcs fought both of them. I fell back using my dance of the spider, and was lead by the ninjas to their hideout, where I discovered they were pirs (the equivalent of gypsies/romani in the campaign setting). It was first then that I discovered how weakened I had become by the battles, but they offered me a bed, and one of them cast some magic on me to make me heal faster. Tomorrow will have to answer many questions. Who are those ninjas? Why do the ninjas want to help me? Are the hobbos trying to kill me?
What in hell am I going to do?"
Aaron Azriel

Hmmm, it feels liberating to write down what has happened.
I hope it was a good read, now you may post YOUR stories.

Altair_the_Vexed
2008-02-23, 06:54 PM
I write up our sessions in the style of an epic serialisation. Sometimes my lovely lady does artwork of the drama. Here's the most recent:
[WARNING: lots of text...]

Our scene is the swelling sea, pock-marked by rains in the dark before dawn. Eerie strings hold a sustained chord, with just a hint of heroic melody...

A fanfare! The prow of a great tall ship looms out of the misty rain on a grey twilight sea, narrowly missing your humble narrator where he sits bobbing, wet and seasick in his imaginary jolly boat just to record for his esteemed readership this dramatic view of the proud figurehead - a sable hound of slavering maw (slavering? or is it just wet..?) - scything through the spray and swell as the dreaded pirate ship sails by, driven unnaturally against the wind by arcane airs, while the nightmare minions of Ty'itia mercilessly pursue, seeking vengeance for the audacious theft of the precious cargo of silks and secret charts to far Kitaya: this, me hearties, is the Moghie Dhoo, the outlaw Black Dog, Scourge of the Estern Sea - and all's not well aboard.

As dawn breaks over the rainy sea, half-elven Calum retires to meditate, while the tired Gaultrian, Coradin, in his dampened finery and the tattooed halfling, Finbar make ready to check the crew for impostors...

All hands on deck! cries Imrahil the bosun, and the Dog's bedraggled sailors shuffle desultorily around the mainmast with yawning mutters of "What are we being killed by now?" and "I was sleepin', dammee!" and "Arr, I'm getting rain on me shiny new eyepatch, ye lubber!"

Surreptitiously, Fin cast a spell, and scans the crew and prisoners for magic, sweeping his gaze over the many disheartened heads. As the waves of ethereal disturbance coalesce in Fin's mind's eye, our halfling hero spots two faint arcane auras lingering around two crew members, whom he indicates to Cap'n Iffans, who in turn summons the sailors to the bridge: "Git up hyer, ye wizardly lubbers, an' le's see what ye've got, isn'it!" Both squeeze by the other hands (and the prisoners tied to the foremast, don't forget them!) and make their way toward the companionway up to the wheeldeck. All very sensible - checking out your crew when some scary thing is hiding among them, murdering and dismembering and skinning folk and such like. One of the summoned sailors abruptly leaps overboard.
Hey! That's not what we were expecting! Our heroes are people of action, though. Hurrah! Fin follows the sinking sailor with a bound and a dive, smoothly slipping into the waves like a little axe-wielding porpoise, and Coradin plucks out his bow and watches for signs of the fleeing fellow along the shaft of an arrow. The other summoned sailor hastily brings a light - a magical pearl that lights the whole ship and casts sapphire glints o'er the foam-topped waves, as if a second sun had arisen in glory, faster than the rosy orb of dawn that lights with radiant fingers the ruby-sparkling seas* (or would if it wasn't raining so greyly). Coradin shoots (thinking: I don't know why everyone's so impressed with that tawdry magic lamp, they're only an hundred gold pieces each...), Fin - below the shining waves - whips out his wand and runs a pulsing Ray of Enfeeblement over the swimming sailor's form...

... unseen, a malevolent mind swiftly decides that this sailor's doom must come now, and a leaching tendril ethereally reaches out to our heroes' target, and eerily lingering, saps the sailor's strength with a touch ...

... and curiously, despite the weak power of the wand and Finbar's intent to drag the drowning fool aboard and question him, the fleeing man dies, suddenly withered like a wet husk. Puzzled, Fin drags the body aboard. "I didn't zap him that hard," he complains.

But look here! This erstwhile fleeing fellow is none other than the lurking rogue from the chartroom - he who flung ("flinged"..? "flang"..?) that precious log book from the stern of the Makhenet. See, here are his rapier and dagger, his features disguised by magic are now revealed in death, be they ever so wrinkly and prunish.

Around this time, the serene Calum completes his prayers to mighty Parwethe, Eternal of the Waters, and ventures back on the main deck: "What did I miss guys?" quoth he, and is pointed to the dead assassin and the dearth of other clues. For completeness, our half-elven hero decides to look over each of the crew for signs of the dreaded taint that struck his halfling friend, Fin. With guards on the door of the cabin, Calum examines Dja't, the Makhenet's most interesting refugee...

http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/pg1-final_th.jpg (http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/pg1-final.gif)

Dja't unleashes a Cloud of Taint+- twisting Calum's very bones in wracking mortal pain!!

http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/pg2-final_th.jpg (http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/pg2-final.jpg)

+See "The Story So Far: The Silk Way", D&D Fans!
(Click those pics for full splash-frame action!)

His wrecked body corrupted with evil, Calum lies dying on the cabin deck by the slain guards, while the vile Dja't works unseen dread magic... A wave of horror sweeps the ship, and panicked sailors call out general alarms, bringing Coradin running from the poop and Finbar leaping down from the dizzy heights of the crows' nest. There in the doorway to the cabin lies the anguished and mutated wreck of the marine who until recently stood guard on the prisoner's cabin - the distorted form oozes unnatural fluids from visceral tentacles... Coradin opens the door to find Calum lying on the slimy floor, wan and waxy, barely alive. A swift poke from Fin's wand brings the flicker of life to the half-elf's eyes. Coradin searches for clues in the slime on the desk and deck - the pale, thick, viscid gloop lies in an abstracted blobbish pattern, perhaps of a fallen man with some extruded attachment to the midriff - while Calum struggles upright with a disturbed and weak demeanour: something foul lurks in the soul of his flesh now, and he can feel it. The mysterious Dja't - whoever he is - is nowhere to be seen ... nor is the second guard.

Ushering the terrified crew on deck, the heroes set to their previous plan - checking the hands for anomalies and the ship for lurking monsters (with a little time for Calum to restore his composure and summon up new life from the great sea spirit). The search uncovers nothing, but the muttered curses of the prisoners bound to the foremast: "That Dja't was never our navvy," they say. "Our voyage was cursed from the day we set sail out of Khanjo, so it was." Urged to explain, the Makhenet's cap'n goes on: "He told us he had a plan and we should shut up and go along with him. Now he be preyin' on you, ye pirate scum!"

Scared, the crew return to work, muttering amongst themselves: "Arr, did ye see the mess in there? Who's bound to clean that up, dammee? Not them dandy heroes, I'll warrant..."

Sensing his crew's restless worry, Cap'n Iffans sets Imrahil to run continuous artillery drills: "Ready the ballistae!" he calls, and "Crank and load!" and "Stow the ballistae!" and "Ready the ballistae!" Hurried, the crew rush sweating over the decks with the great bolts and giant crossbows, with barely a breath for the cursing of drills and bosuns, dam'em all!

By the mid-afternoon, the rains have cleared and the soothing wail and echoing boom of whale-song are heard in the deeps. Great barnacled flukes wave lazily, before crashing into the swell with a plume of mist, and long black backs rise to spout geysers of brine triumphantly into the sea air. The Dog's crew are heartened - whales are a good omen to spy after so many deathly disasters. Dusk falls on a warm night, and without the magical gust of the arcane fans, the Moghie Dhoo tacks slowly against the northerly wind around the teeth of the Canem Reefs. While the crew sheet and shank languidly in the balmy soft airs, six shrewd eyes watch the caravel unnoticed, hawkishly scanning the ship and crew with cunning intent...

Ho-ho! Here are two o' those baleful eyes now: they're set either side of a cruel beak of horn and flanked four ways by a rubbery black octet of loathsome oscillating arms - a kraken! With ten-fathom tentacles it grabs both crew and ship, dragging the mainmast yawing over and snatching the hapless hands on deck into that snapping beak. The crew cower from the terrible tentacles - but our daring heroes defend the Dog's deck! Or rather, the Saviours of King Stephen are seized and squeezed by the squidish beast. (Alright, scribe: that's quite enough alliteration for the moment! A picture is worth a thousand scratching, ink-blotted, sea-wet words...)

http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/marines-kraken2-th.jpg (http://www.helios-design.co.uk/dnd/marines-kraken2.jpg)

Coradin stabs and slashes at the tightening arm with dagger, but the beast makes as little of it as a bull might a gnat's bite. Calum struggles to get free, wishing he'd brought a smaller weapon while his arms are pinned. Cunning Finbar uses his Wand of Enfeeblement, sapping the might of the dreaded beast with a well-placed ray.
Weakened, the gastropod menace drops its foes to concentrate on ending the threat from Finbar’s magic wand. Calum, landing on the beasts great slimy head brings his great mace to bear and beats on the rubbery hide, while Coradin stabs and slashes at the writhing arms of the horror. The feeble monster is no match even for halfling Finbar’s resolute strength, so no kraken dinner is he this evening – and a coruscating ray of enfeebling negative energy passes once more betwixt wand and briny foe, slaying the squid-fiend at last!
With only six crewmen killed, the terrifying monster killed in swift a decisive manner - and the promise of fresh fried calamari for supper - the sailors cheer the demise of the kraken and hail our heroes as champions again as the Dog sails steadily on into the balmy night.

The following day, after a hearty sushi supper – and strangely, no sleep for Calum, who merely walks the decks gazing at the lapping waves, again – the crew are peaceably going about their naval business: belaying here, stowing there, splicing this and swabbing that, and all thing needful, d’ye see, to make the ship go.
But hoy! cries the helpful reader. There’s four more spying eyes to account for yet! Who’s on watch? And quite rightly, too – never you worry, our marine heroes have such matters in hand.
See – here is Finbar, perched in the crows’ nest once more, sneaking a peek in his wizardly tome to revise his spells for the day. And there is Calum, meditating on the miracles that great Parwethe can grant him. Coradin, blasé in the face of such spellcrafty pursuits (he left Gaultria as much to get away from such wizards and mystics as to flee the wrath of the defeated duellist who set that poorly hunted bounty on his head), paces the deck after a breakfast of squid-rings, biscuits and lemons, waiting for his magical friends. And so, once prayers and study are complete, the trio set off to scour the ship from stem to stern with sweeping eyes enchanted to descry Evil and magic. From the topgallants to the keel they search, from bowspirit to rudder too and gunwale to gunwale just to be sure. Naught find they – till crafty Finbar clicks on his piece de resistance: the See Invisible spell.
There! There it is: the grey pot-bellied dwarf, blue-bearded and yellow-tusked, eyes glowing like hot coals. There – on the edge of sight, standing plain on the deck, ghost-like in some ethereal plane contingent with the material world, watching them as they search – the vile imposter Dja’t!
Somehow knowing Fin has spotted him before the halfling rogue even has time to start in shock, the ghostly monster runs through the hull of the ship and away. Fin – crying out “He’s here! Invisible!” – runs up to the main deck and dives off the side after the fiend, who seems, to Fin’s enchanted eyes, to be running over the waves as though they were mere shrubs of undergrowth in a pleasure park with solid earth beneath. Calum, reaching the deck, deploys his waveboard from his magic sack, while Coradin snatches out a bow to scan the sea for the demon thing.
There he is - POP! – appearing as if out of nowhere some hundred feet from the slow sailing Dog to set a Cloud of roiling Taint on the edge of the ship, catching Calum and Coradin within its greasy folds. Coradin reels out from the cloud and Calum find the effect not half as nasty as before – but both feel their hearts gripped with a presence of oily corruption (- gosh, that’s not good).
The waveboard is slow to gain speed in the light wind, and the fiend returns to the ethereal even as he sinks and Finbar closes with him. Now mostly unseen, Dja’t returns to the ship, skimming through the water as though it was not there (maybe it isn’t in whatever necrotic plane he inhabits…), with Finbar pursuing at a short distance. Catching up with the slow moving Moghie Dhoo, the fiend slips between the housing of the rudder just at the waterline, and begins some task unseen. Calum sails alongside, gaining on the Black Dog, and Fin – like a deadly shark o’ the deep – skims torpedo-like under the surface with his axe cutting the waves (he’d be banned from the Olympics, you know). What’s the fiend up to?
He’s animating the dead! Gasp in horror – as he raises up the corpses of the dead sailors cast over board not a few nights before! Shiver in fear – as the undead shuffle to the hull and begin their slow climb to attack their erstwhile shipmates in horrific spasmodic earnest! Slap your forehead in dismay – as the now corporeal Dja’t glances up from his zombie manufacturing to see the flaring wand of Finbar eject a conflagrant fireball, searing two of the zombies into ash and scorching the little devil himself! Recoil in shock – as the jets of sudden flame burst out through the chain-pipes of the wheeldeck to spout into the sky either side of the helmsman (his eyes screwed tight shut). Cheer with encouragement (remembering who you’re rooting for here) – as Calum unleashes the awesome cleansing power of Parwethe, blasting the remaining undead into purest sea-spray with his Holy Might!
Stuff this! thinks the beleaguered demon, and flees ethereally once more through the hull over the main deck and into the galley. In a flash, Finbar is there, and he and Coradin rush to corner the fiend while Calum climbs back aboard to ward the crew with the protective power of the Eternal Elven sea-god (let’s not dwell on his inept clambering too much, he is a hero after all).
Caught in the ship’s kitchen, Dja’t slips back into the material long enough to spitefully corrupt the food with a blast of Taint – and long enough for Coradin to stab him hard, and Finbar to blast the galley with searing fire (Coradin’s wily reflexes getting him tucked and covered enough to evade the scorch of the flames) – and yet some demonic power protects this devil, who doesn’t even flinch at the fire, merely slipping back to his ghostly plane and dashing through the walls again.
Finbar follows as swiftly as he may, calling out the thing’s position, and Coradin bounds over the deck-rails after it. The crew, sensing the approaching horror, recoil – and the prisoners, tied to the mast, gibber in their bonds at the passing of the vile demon. Laughing evilly, it manifests again to cast its taint about – but wand and rapier and arrow lunge and strike true before the foul arts are complete, and the festering fiend’s corpse slumps to the deck, spilling foul ichors. Some fleeing ghostly demon-spirit rips from the fallen form, slipping through the decks to flee under the waves, but Finbar – the only one to see the thing – chases it as it flees into the deep…


Wow! That was exciting! At least, your humble narrator is getting seriously into it, anyway. Hey! cries the astute reader. What about the last two sinister unseen eyes? Arr, belike, ye’ll have to see, an’ perchance ye will, in our next instalment…

NEXT: The Watching Eyes

*Cor! There's poetic, isn'it!
[I'm the DM of this sorry game. Artwork by Helios, my partner, and player of Calum.]

FireFox
2008-02-23, 09:31 PM
my game involves my dmpc ranger, my sis' cleric, my gf's sorc, and a npc pally cuz the fighter and druid all quit on me >< we hold it by conference call cuz my gf lives too far away from me and we only had one session so far. this is more or less the first game for all involved (including me)... i have half of the plot hooks already planned, but ill post them and the party's actions as they happen...

But right now the party is clearing out a goblin cave as a tutorial of sorts...

Zenos
2008-02-24, 04:38 AM
*snip*

Could you put it in spoilers please?

Altair_the_Vexed
2008-02-24, 07:34 AM
Could you put it in spoilers please?

Done. You're right, it's an awful lot of text...

Zenos
2008-02-24, 07:55 AM
Done. You're right, it's an awful lot of text...

You do much more description than me, after all. But then again, I wrote my text on the back of my character sheet before writing it on PC and it is in diary form.

Hal
2008-02-24, 11:43 AM
Um . . . yeah, my last gaming session was a disaster.

I brought my players into a town where a small, mafia-like group was shaking down the store-keepers.

My guys . . . they just don't behave like normal people in this game.

After watching the mob go on their "rounds," they tried to figure out where the mob liked to spend a lot of time . . . and then plotted for 45 minutes about setting the place on fire and ambushing anyone who tried to escape the inferno (Thank goodness I said it was a stone building!).

When they decided this wouldn't work, they just went and hung around in a nearby tavern, and a halfing from the mob came in. He was drinking and laughing it up with half the room. My guys? Sitting there, plotting to kill him . . . in the middle of the bar, in front of all of those people.

Well, I decide that he notices them staring and comes over to talk big. They'd tried to confront the mob earlier in the day and been laughed at, so the halfing came over and was talking trash. My guys? They break out crossbows and try to kill him. Freaking psychopaths.

I had them fight the mob that night. It was supposed to be a one-on-one fight between their "champion" and the mob's, so it was their dwarven fighter vs. the mob's dwarven barbarian.

Except then one of my players took a magic item I'd made, and poorly described, apparently, and abused it mightily. I was so flabbergasted by his use of it that I didn't realize I was allowing him to take 4 actions each round. He ended up killing the barbarian. Like, beat him, then cut his head off to make a point. I had the rest of the mob step in to fight them just because I considered it such a dirty fight.

It was such a mess. I just can't believe how my guys played their characters. Rational people do not function this way!

FlyMolo
2008-02-24, 11:51 AM
Umm, so far in my campaign, the characters have been almost digested by a giant stomach, saved by a Chained Time Stop from a god-wizard, pressganged into fighting the forces of Asmodeus, teleported onto a flat planet, had an airship dropped on them, and then they fell up.. Now they're fighting imps on the edge of the atmosphere. They're level 2.

Metal Head
2008-02-24, 12:00 PM
My players got attacked by a giant man, found a portal into the negative energy plane, nearly got killed, and promptly flew away on a whale. As the DM I declared that it was time to play Super Smash Bros while I tried to think of what the hell should happen next.

TheThan
2008-02-24, 01:47 PM
My player just slaughtered an encampment of 20 or so hobgoblins that was threatening a town.

It was the last encampment in a series of three, and the first wave of a major invasion. Thanks to the magic item the head hobgoblin priestess stole from an enclave of monks. The magic item lets the user to summon extremely powerful storms. She as already destroyed a town with it (more or less just to test it), while her hordes of hobgoblins prepare for war. Oh and the party hit level 3.

Mad Maudlin
2008-02-24, 07:19 PM
Okay, I'll give this a go...

Our party recently hit some trouble - we were hired to find a cleric (Himself carrying several Wands of Control Water for an important ceremony in the city of Cauldron) who had been accosted by bandits in a tavern outside the city. Once there, my Sorcerer/beguiler took a bandit prisoner and convinced him to give us the layout of the tavern and placement of bandits. After letting him go, the Party Rogue excuses himself, runs after the bandit and murders him. Other things happen, my beguiler finds out what he's done, and starts to nurse a grudge. The payback is going to be EPIC.

The party consists of Lilya, human sorcerer/beguiler, Aeren, half-elven fighter, Funklin, gnome bard, Derbekk, dwarven cleric, Ellie, githzerai monk and the halfling rogue whose player never bothered to name him...

Day 39, 15:30 - Well, that was certainly an eventful half hour... If we hadn't found those healing scrolls, I have no doubt we would have been forced to turn back here. I hate to admit it, but I was actually glad to have that bloodthirsty little man with me. Not only did we run headfirst into a nest of were-baboons (and dear lord was that humbling... of all the ways to die, killed by something as ludicrous as a were-baboon was hardly at the top of my list), but the ensuing fight attracted the attention of eight of their heavies. As if the monkey man wasn’t bad enough - he targeted me right off, and I had to set him on fire before he’d leave me alone - but the bandits who ambushed us afterward proved more difficult than expected. They had knocked Derbekk and Ellie flat before we got a handle on things, and I'm forced to admit that That Man was useful (but not out loud. Never out loud).
Once the dust had cleared, and Derbekk and Ellie were back on their feet, we faced an unpleasant discovery. Behind the monkey man's desk, was the severed head of a human being, one who fit the description of the cleric we were sent to find. Not only had he been decapitated, but his tongue had been torn out of his head (wait, wasn't the baboon's name 'Tongue-eater' or something similarly vile? Oh, that doesn't bear thinking about...). Funklin cried, but That Man didn't make a move to comfort her. I thought they were lovers now?
Aeren has suggested that we continue into the tavern to see if we can't find these wands for the priests anyway. I must concur that they could still be here... if we can find the old man's body. There are stairs down in this room, and it seems likely that he was killed in the cellar - that's where his letter said he hid.
I'm beginning to tire. I hope we can rest soon.

Day 39, 16:15 - Why can't anything be simple? As soon as we walked down those steps, we were accosted again. No were-baboons this time, but the fight was still arduous. Of course, as soon as we killed the most brutish of the group, the others surrendered. I had to physically restrain That Man, but these prisoners escaped with their lives. They did tell us that they had a prisoner of their own, still alive, behind a trapped door, then they ran. Probably the best thing for them.
Looking at the door didn't exactly inspire courage in any of us. For one thing, there was a delightful array of frozen bandit corpses in front of it. That Man took one look at it announced that it wasn't trapped. Well, excuse me if your word doesn't fill me with confidence, you lying murderer. But I Detected Magic and found nothing but a Shape Wood spell. I tried casting a fireball to try and melt whatever was in the door, and that just made the thing grow! Finally, Funklin caught wise, and asked me if I knew any cold spells. I had barely cast a single Ray of Frost when the frozen thing receded and the door became harmless. We still sent the Rogue in first.
Then disaster almost struck. The prisoner behind the door? Was a Dark Elf. And Aeren was first inside to see her. He tried, dear man, but she could sense his prejudice. Thankfully, I managed to convince her that we meant her no harm, and she told us what she knew of the cleric's wands. Apparently this woman, Triel, took them from him before ordering his death. The Drow's name was Alyssa, and she begged an escort back to cauldron. After all she's seen, who am I to refuse her? Aeren'll just have to hold his tongue.

Day 39, 16:20 - No need to worry about Aeren's tongue. When we exited the tavern, we saw a dinosaur between the trees. He and Funklin are flitting back and forth trying to find more. Honestly, sometimes I feel more like a babysitter than a sorcerer.
We'll need to tell the priests of St Cuthbert that their cleric is dead, and worse, that we were unable to retrieve the wands. Somehow I don't think they'll be overjoyed by this news...

Day 39, 18:30 - I was right. But, rather than try to do anything about it, the priestess just looked at us, as if thinking 'I wonder what they're going to do next?' I suppose this is all on us now. So, we asked their Star of Justice how to find this Triel woman, and it showed us a tavern, and a man. The Rogue said he knew him, an Artus Something. He looks shifty to me. We've agreed to try to meet with him tomorrow. For now, maybe I can get some sleep.
Alyssa left us as soon as we reached Cauldron. I hope we'll see her again, but for her sake perhaps it's best if we don't.

Day 40, 05:00 - I know what I need to do about what That Man did in the forest. He has to learn that he can't keep killing so recklessly. Perhaps I can convince him of the error of his ways.

Day 40, 07:30 - He did not look happy when he came down to breakfast this morning. I don't think anyone else noticed, but I'm sure he got my message. 'Murderer' scrawled in red across his bedroom wall. (My finger still hurts, but the cut seems to have closed well enough.) He looks disturbed, certainly, but hardly guilty... well, if he hasn't learned yet, there's always tomorrow. I feel much better this morning.

Day 40, 10:00 - I worry that perhaps I'm developing a taste for revenge... But The Rogue certainly deserves whatever I can do to him, and his friend Artus...
Aeren, Ellie and Derbekk went down to the market while Funklin and I accompanied That Man to the Tipped Tankard tavern, where, he assured us, Artus could be found. Apparently Artus doesn't know the meaning of the word 'subtlety', as the best method That Man could think of to make contact with him was to sit in the centre of the tavern, speaking in loud voices about all the priceless art pieces we had to sell, and in a hurry, if-you-know-what-I-mean. Funklin left to perform on the tavern stage, and I can't say I blamed her.
When Artus came to join us, he had the gall to tell us that we lacked subtlety! When I tried to bring up the subject of wands, specifically those that could control water, he waved me to silence, and demanded three hundred gold before he would speak. In exchange for what, we asked? In exchange for the whereabouts of Triel’s super-secret hideout, he claimed. And then he wouldn't say anything else. Got awfully offended when we asked for proof that he knew, oh, anything of any use... Eventually, we paid his price, and he gave us a crude map of the city with an 'X' on it. We have no reason to believe that X marks anything at all, let alone a hideout of any sort.
Then he threatened me when I expressed my dissatisfaction. He Threatened Me. As if his assassins could even touch me. Like I was just another of his peons, scared to death of the sad little king of a sad little hill.
The Rogue first. Then Artus'll get his.

Day 40, 12:30 - So, maybe there is a volcanic vent where he marked the map. It doesn't mean anything.

((End of session))

Doresain
2008-02-25, 12:39 PM
we save a caravan (or whats left of it) from goblin raiders, made friends with the halfling caravan leader, got attacked by another group of goblins, made it to town and took a job to destroy the goblins...

now for the stuff that the paladin doesnt now about...me and the cleric torture a goblin until it tells us that its tribe is being lead by a wyrmling black dragon, mount the heads of the other goblins on their own javelins, and i take a still breathing goblin captive for the purposes of torturing and experimentation...basically i want to take random goblin mook, and turn it into a goblinoid equivalent of an owlbear

SamTheCleric
2008-02-25, 12:41 PM
I do a session "journal" from the perspective of my character (Cleric 6/Radiant Servant of Ehlonna 1/Sacred Exorcist 4)...

Here's the latest entry...

"... I was correct thinking that the worshipper of Pholtus would not take the rejection lightly. He and his cadre of fellow worshippers called us out to battle over the book in a test of honorable combat. While Mordak, Athor and Tarbin all seemed to be itching for a chance to prove their mettle, Garrett and I did not see the wisdom in such a maneuver. Athor wanted Kord to shine down on him, Tarbin wanted the Lady of Fate to decide and Mordak just didn't want to be called a coward. This line of thinking was leading us down a path that would lead to unnecessary violence. Garrett and I managed to convince the Pholtans that we had already entered into a contract with the Worshippers of Boccob and could not give the book up until we honored that contract. They could not find fault with that so they left us to our devices without the need for Mordak's axe being unsheathed. It wasn't until later that evening that the representative from the church of Boccob arrived. His original offer was 50,000 gold pieces or a credit of 100,000 gold pieces worth of magical items. Even though that would be enough money to fund a new regency, Mordak wanted more. I believe that his greed will one day be the death of him. Garrett was able to add another 5000 gold to our total so that we would have an even 15,000 gold per person. We also were able to keep a nonmagical copy of the book for ourselves under the condition that we are not to sell it, give it away or make any further copies. After a restful night, we set off towards the floating citadel once more.

A few days into our travel the sky lit up with a brilliant white light, as though a gate were opening to another plane of existence. Two Justicators stepped through the opening and immediately pressed to attack us. I do not know why we were confronted by these extraplanar beings of law, though Ranzbur mentioned seeing a human on the other side of the gate with sigils dancing in a halo around his head. Tarbin and Athor seemed to say something concerning Illumian. I do not know if this is a race, a profession or a sect of individuals. They said they were opposed to the Pact. As we are also opposed to the Pact I do not know why we are fighting one another. No one else seemed to know either.
The fight itself did not begin well. We are lacking in one serious field of battle: vertical movement. These Justicators maintained their flight above our heads and their resistance to our spellcasters proved to be most vexing. It was only Ranzbur with a well placed arrow that seemed to get their attention. Once he lowered for the attack, Mordak and Athor made short work of it. The second one held back, casting a silence over Tarbin to cut off the potent spells. I dispelled the silence in time for Garrett to perform one of the most daring stunts I had seen to date... He caused the Justicator and Athor to switch places. Athor fell to the ground at a rapid pace, grunting Kord's blessing once... but the Justicator was now touching the ground. Mordak and Ranzbur flanked him and the fight was soon over. Perhaps we need to find a way to make Mordak and Ranzbur fly. I will discuss the possibilities with Tarbin and Garrett.

In a small hamlet off the path towards the mountains we came across a young monk. He is Garrett's personal assistant, steward and bodyguard. A useful asset to have. His codename of Moonshadow seemed to fit his personality well. Garrett informed us that he was an elite class of warrior, a Shadow Sun Ninja. My knowledge of martial lore is very scant and this new class of warrior intrigued me, I wanted to see him in action. Luckily, or perhaps not so, we would see that action the very next day.

Entering the desert we got our first glimpse of the monstrous sandstorm that we could only assume was the flying citadel. Upon reaching this storm, we detected a vast amount of evil and magic from it. It seemed as though it was a pure wall of sand encircling the entire complex. I then did the only thing I could think of when it comes to evil magic: get rid of it. I dispelled the wall of sand, and then things began to get bad. On the other side of the sand a large elf wrapped in whirling spiked chains and a gargatuan ooze that seemed to be evil incarnate. At first I thought the chained elf was a Kyton, but I was quickly mistaken... this was something equally vile, but native to our plane of existence. Seeing the threat posed by the ooze, Tarbin immediately cast out a ray of powerful magic that caused the thing to disintegrate partially. Moonshadow then did the most peculiar thing... he kicked the ooze. I was now questioning the sanity of this steward. I summoned the Darts of Life as Garrett caused Moonshadow and Mordak to switch places, much to the distaste of the angry dwarf. Mordak finished off the Ooze in short order, but then it seemed as though lost himself in the heat of battle... he had become frenzied. As we were beginning to establish our positioning, the elf put up a barrier of whirling blades on top of Garrett, Moonshadow and Athor, nearly killing Garrett. I unleashed all ten darts of life into Garrett and Moonshadow healing them to stable levels. It was then that Tarbin became frenzied. Thinking this to be some kind of magic effect, I attempted to dispel by placing a wall of dispel magic on top of Mordak, Tarbin and the Elf. I only succeeded in dispelling all of the beneficial spells I had previously placed on them. They remained frenzied. Ranzbur saved us all by first stabbing the elf in the throat with his glaive, and then by knocking Moonshadow unconscious before Mordak was able to slay him.

It took several minutes for the frenzy and blade barriers to go away... we patched ourselves up and looked skyward. The only way to go now was up.

By the grace of your light and the bounty of nature, I serve.

-Sam"

Zenos
2008-02-25, 12:49 PM
My players got attacked by a giant man, found a portal into the negative energy plane, nearly got killed, and promptly flew away on a whale. As the DM I declared that it was time to play Super Smash Bros while I tried to think of what the hell should happen next.

Flew away on a WHALE?, you've got to tell me how that happened.

Cby!
2008-02-25, 01:12 PM
Played yesterday, im dm and got 4 player, let me say that it didnt start realy great for two of my player. They learn its important to take watch turn

all the players are are sleeping/meditating in an inn,in two diferent room

Me: ok, both of you roll a listen -10
Both: *fail*
Me: ok you roll fortititude
Player1: *fail*
Me: your dead!
Player 1: what?!!
Me: ok, now two listen at -10
player 2: *fail & fail*
Me: ok now your turn, roll fortititude
Player1: *fail*
Me: your dead too!
Player 2:noooooo
*5 round later*
Me ok now you too roll listen-10
Both*fail*
Me ok now player 3 roll fortitude 17
Player3 : 31 (pretty tought barbarian)
Me: you wake up, a kama in your stomach and a black dressed man just right of you

*One wake up, a grapple and a coup de grace later *
player 3 &4 : haha take that stupid assassin! where the best...ho ****? what about the others?!!

It costed them pretty much all they gold and a pretty powerfull magic weapon to get the two other back to life. That and 15k Xp :P

Indon
2008-02-25, 01:16 PM
For my players' last session or so of the Exalted campaign I'm running:


After helping to establish a solid core of sentient, militant Dragon Kings in the ruined city of Rathess, recovering a variety of the ancient technologies (the more mundane of which are beginning to be produced again) awakening a handful of ancient dragon kings, fighting off a Lunar attack precipitated by the God of Ruins (and recruiting the Lunar who led the attack), defeating the God of Ruins in a heavenly court battle in which the God had a very significant punishment (but was not imprisoned) for propping up false charges, faking evidence, and bribery, they decided to take it easy for a while.

For a few months, the group lounged about in heaven, supported by the local Sidereal's salary, as they meditated upon their essence. Eventually, the wanderlust took them again, and they decided where to go next.

The group decided to travel to the Coral Archipelago, to take it relatively easy. They traveled there via Heaven, and emerged out of a gate in the catacombs-turned-sewers, planning to masquerade as a group of mercenaries.

Shortly after they emerged from the sewers onto the docks, they split up, and the Dragon-blood and Lunar of the party, heavily cloaked and stinking of the sewers, were almost immediately taken as an easy target by a 'conscription officer' and his mob of thugs. Needless to say, there was blood. And fire. And death... of mortals anyway.

The dragon-blood and the lunar laid low as rumors of a "Realm invasion" swirled about for almost a day before dying out (but not before the other PC's, the sidereal and the solar, had some fun embellishing the rumors), and eventually the group met up again and had all washed the stench out of their clothes.

Looking about for things to do, they learned about the casinos, in particular the Vason's Luck, which they traveled to. After some rousing card games (simulated by poker and blackjack on the gaming table) and a one-shot house dice game (Petals Around the Rose, which was most frustrating for the players), they hunted down the higher-stakes games.

The Solar was approached by a wealthy nobleman by the name of Dorian, who sought to wager significant wealth in exchange for a handful of years of life (something capable in the Vason's Luck due to a powerful artifact being housed there), and after winning once, politely turned down a second bet. The other members looked about, spoke some with some of the other patrons, and struck up a conversation with a pair of brothers, Random and Corey.

One thing lead after another, and eventually the Lunar and Corey were scheduled to fight in a gentleman's duel (mechanically, using bashing damage, to unconsciousness). The stakes were high - the Dragon-blood placed all of his wealth upon the fight in exchange for a measure of Corey's swordsmanship (for the Lunar) and a measure of Random's ability to drink (for the Dragon-blood).

As the fight began, it became clear to each combatant that the other was of supernatural ability - but while the Lunar had to avoid the use of most of his charms, for fear of revealing himself as Anathema, Corey's powers appeared to be more passive, giving him the upper hand early on.

The Lunar, drawing his clothing closely about himself to as a disguise, transformed into his stronger and more agile hybrid Beastman form, giving himself the advantage for a time. Both pushed themselves to the limits of their ability in a complex display of combat prowess and tactical capability, feinting and parrying intricately to draw their opponent off-guard for a decisive strike. After one last attempt to knock the Lunar unconscious, Corey conceded the combat (having exausted his capabilities, and with the Lunar able to regenerate significantly against his assault), and the mystical power about the casino doled out the prizes.

Having had a good time, and no hard feelings, Corey and Random proceeded to drink prolifically with the party until the next day came around. Some investigation during the drinking on the part of the party's Solar and Sidereal revealed that in fact the brothers were from beyond the borders of creation, though they spoke of stranger things yet than the wyld alone.

And now they have returned to their modest inn, to seek further events of interest.

SamTheCleric
2008-02-25, 01:20 PM
Wow, Indon... sounds like a good time. I should check out Exalted.

Indon
2008-02-25, 01:30 PM
Why, thank you.

Exalted has a very rich default setting, with support for a variety of types of games (though with a tendency to go God-killing epic on the very high end, not that I mind at all). It's a pretty detailed game mechanically as well, though the players and NPC's I control rarely exploit that - the duel was a rare exception, as I felt one-on-one combat between an Exalt and a master swordsman was a good opportunity to explore the nuances of the Exalted combat system.

Well, Exalted 1'st edition combat system, with light, Old-World-of-Darkness inspired houseruling. :P

Totally Guy
2008-02-25, 01:34 PM
We had the best session ever the other night. We returned triumphant from the dungeon to the temple of Pelor to find it had been burned to the ground killing our questgiver.

When we quizzed the watch about Father Sevenus' enemies he told us of a cult called the Kaizerbund. The ringleaders were a poultry salesman, a theatre owner and a mystic guild leader. We tracked down the theatre owner and got tickets to see Screamy Dodd, the Demon Barbarian of Leet Fleet. After all the characters dressed posh, with acompanying sketches we went to our seats. The Rogue/Swashbuckler was trying to bluff his way into the green room but eventually he sneaked backstage instead. He got onto the lights/props baclony by climbing a rope and found a room with people in it a a fancy lock and I got to use the word Escutcheon in a sentence.

He also found the fire escape which he propped ajar.

When he rejoined the party he told us we could leave and track down the baddie. We got outside and I got to lift the gnome to the escape ladder where he released it for the rest of us. With the door ajar we snuck onto the walkway.

The door at the far end was now open and guarded, the the gnome conjured up a silent image of a ghost and wafted it toward the guard room. Then he used mage hand to close the door. With the door closed us melee guys ran towards the door to ambush. Except the swashbuckler. He wanted to swing on a chandelier but fell onto the stage and was on 1hp. The play hadn't started and the swashbuckler darted down a trap door.

We took out the guards and the gnome charmed the baddie. We tied him and I joined the gnome and took the villain to the watch. The fighter stayed to see the play and the swashbuckler stood in to the dead lights/props men who were also the guards. It turned out that the victims in the play were innocent people that were to be killed for real and the fighter had to stop it. Then the actors fought the fighter on stage and the swashbuckler dropped a sandbag onto the one with sneak attack. They rescued 7 people and guided the all to the watch to meet us.

It was the best adventure ever.

Artanis
2008-02-25, 01:34 PM
The group I'm in has been working for about a month to get a campaign off the ground (deciding on setting, building characters, letting the brand-new GM get situated, etc.) and Saturday was the first "real" session.

We're using BESM rules and the Shadowrun setting. My character is Tobias Sibre, an Elf who's sort of a "mad scientist", designing and subsequently using ridiculously high-tech stuff to make up for the fact that he's a wimp. The other characters are Inara, an Elf mage who just broke out of prison; Nathan, an Elf who's a lecherous Driver/Medic/Cybernetic Expert; and Tim, an Ork who's blatantly inspired by the WH40K Mekboy.

All in all, the first session went pretty well. We spent most of the time still setting things up, but working out the "how we met" part eventually ran into a snag where Tobias, Tim, and Nathan were linked together, but we couldn't figure out how to get Inara into the group until we hit on the idea of just RPing the meeting. This led to about an hour worth of playing, and lots of showing off each character's personality, fleshing out our base of operations (Tobias's gun shop in a town based on Roanapur from Black Lagoon), introducing a couple of the group's contacts, and setting up our next meeting with Mister Johnson.