S&W Sessions Journal: Pub Life and Missing Men-at-Arms

Our short game over the weekend consisted of a lot of paper work. But between character card updating and role playing mundanities at the local tavern it was really a pretty fun time assisted by a number of whisky shots and beer. I’d done a little more than my usual amount of preparation and was ready for the second level of the dungeon to be explored. That never happened, but I was more than happy for the reprieve and a chance to flesh it out a bit more. A quick trip up, out, and back to the usual tavern HQ was decided upon.

The little hobbit Pikmit (the blind magic user’s guide) was hauled out of the dungeon slung over the shoulder of Wagstaff the Thief and slammed onto the bar. Stebbins (their employer) was sent for, as was usual whore of Henri (their newly one armed men-at-arm). An earlier sample of their now large haul of strange mushrooms had been analyzed by Stebbins' superior and deemed Magic Mushrooms of Underwater Breathing. At least, Stebbins said his employer was pretty sure that’s what they were. We all had a good laugh at the thought of how this might play out later in the game (as the party decided to keep a handful), but a fat sack of 100 gold was handed over to Wagstaff as leader to distribute as he saw fit.

Stebbins was usually in the habit of taking only Wagstaff through the kitchen and into the place where livestock were butchered in order to discuss business. This time, Gulch the assassin was also invited to join them. Stebbins introduced himself and mentioned that he knew of several associates of his at the guild in Haldane far to the West. It seems his services could very well be required of Stebbins’ employers and so he was glad to have made his acquaintance.

Wagstaff relayed how a dwarven friend of his, Aleger, had recently rejoined their party only to be killed by goblins recently in the dungeons of the abandoned chateau. Stebbins offered another sack of gold in compensation for this loss (later discovered to be 50gp), and encouraged the group to acquire more men-at-arms if they could as future expeditions would likely prove ever more perilous for some time.

Inquiries were made as to whether there were any treatment options for their blind magic user. Stebbins told them them that there was a strange man-like creature to the northeast across the river who called himself Sir Froig. He was said to be highly knowledgable of healing herbs and magic. A low hanging dark cloud which never moved in the sky hung continually over the place where they might find this creature. He said that there was also an alchemist in Sarlat some distance further away who might also be of assistance, and that he could send a courier there (for their smaller sack of gold he’d just paid them) if they wished more information from there.

Leaving Stebbins, the night soon faded into a spinning fog of forgetfulness until the next morning when the group regathered on the ground floor to plan their next move over breakfast. It was decided that the still near dead and recuperating halfling would be left to rest at the Turnapeak for awhile, while the rest of the party headed northeast in search of Sir Froig. At this point, everyone demanded to be paid their share of loot and reward - Wagstaff ripped off everyone including even Gulch who’d seen exactly how large the sacks of gold had been. Wagstaff privately conveyed that Gulch should not worry as his extra share would be coming shortly as long as he didn't betray Wagstaff’s confidence.

The two local hired men-at-arms, Gerard and Henri seemed a bit miffed but asked if there was time for them to nip off to the village near Castelnaud to repair or upgrade their armor and weaponry and otherwise re-equip. The rest of the group waited at the tavern, but after the appointed time of a couple of hours, the two had not returned. The party waited another hour, and then another again, but there was no sign of the two. Finally, it was decided that the group would head to the village itself to see if they could be found.

Little League

Last night we finally played a short session of S&W. It’s been over a month since I’ve DM’d - considering all the time I had, I was a little embarrassed at being unprepared. In the end, I pushed the game start back another half hour and rolled some dice on an index card, tracing where they fell as a quick dungeon layout. For this first level, I thought I’d make it very simple and not require a map. There really wasn’t much of a choice in terms of which way to go, but I hoped a couple of interactions I’d planned would distract from this and it could still be fun.

Highlights:

•A lone pugilistic goblin looking for a good bare knuckles fight. Ends up being charged by the entire party one of whom falls badly into a pit trap as the goblin flees. Classic.

•A large goblin cook stirring a pot. Pugilist goblin hides behind him, fists up. Pikmit (the only non-human PC) speaks kitchen goblin, and translates that the cook seems to think that they’re here for the games and that their soup will be ready in a moment. When he’s filled stone bowls for them, the party decides against trying it and leave. They head down a corridor where cheers and jeers have been coming from. The cook is livid and beside himself, and just as the blind PC (last in line) is exiting the chamber, he hurls a stone bowl with soup at him. This nearly brains the poor bastard but the party doesn’t care and continues on.

•They enter a large, clamshell-shaped chamber. There’s some kind of goblin baseball game going on, with six goblins in view ahead. Only one appears armed - with a large femur. A gruff voice in the darkness asks if they’re here to play or to die. The party attacks the hitter and catcher! Mayhem, the sides of the “field” erupt with more goblins appearing from the darkness and the defense comes running to the aid of their catcher who’s been quickly dropped. Even the female goblin cheerleaders join in as they see one of their boys killed. Fortunately for the party, the goblins were badly managed and the PCs did a fine job of dispatching most of their opponents before the rest ran away.

I’d really hoped to have the players put in a little time behind the bat, or femur as it were, before the game descended into chaos due to someone cheating or a bad call or something. No matter though, it was good fun. Wasn't there an article in a Dragon magazine or somewhere about baseball in the dungeon? It seems like one of those old school rites of passage.

S&W Sessions Journal: Halfwit Halfling

A new character was rolled up at the start of the last session to replace the dead Agnal. Here’s the result of the 3d6 in order method we use: Str 3 Int 7 Wis 13 Con 8 Dex 9 Cha 11. We laughed, and then struggled a bit to come up with a decent back story for the character. Eventually we agreed that the freshly blinded Kitoth had sent a message to his family, explaining his situation and requesting some kind of help. Instead of the younger cousin he’d hoped would come to his aid, his family had decided instead to hire a weak and rather stupid halfling to send in his place.

There was a successful expedition to the abandoned castle (no deaths or dismemberments thankfully) and this time the party kept the carcasses of the fire beetles they’d skewered to show to their employer, Stebbins. They also looted a couple of books from an old library. One of these looked of possible greater value, and they read short passages to the blind ex-magic user as best they could. Kitoth told them he believed the book had something to do with fortunetelling.

Back at the Inn, they relayed that they’d mostly cleared out the ground floor of unwelcome men and monsters, and were looking for a way into its dungeon. Stebbins was very happy with the beetles and taking Wagstaff aside, he showed him how to cut out the bioluminescent glands from their undersides. He gave Wagstaff a couple of these, and also a sack of gold and a key that he said might come in handy.

There was a lot of carousing in town that night and the next day the party went out to the old castle. On the way, they heard the strange sobbing sounds in the woods again. They stormed through the underbrush in the direction that it came from, but all they found were some days old wolf tracks. They went back in the castle and wandered around trying to see if they’d missed anything.

In one room, they found a trapped chest, which Wagstaff failed to detect. Fortunately he made his saving throw and its noxious vapors evaporated harmlessly around him. The chest was empty, but Pikmit and Skithath thought it looked valuable by itself. Kitoth suggested he and Pikmit carry it so that he could render at least some kind of service to the rest of the party. Eventually, they re-located a locked metal door that had earlier stymied them and were able to open it with their new key.

S&W Sessions Journal: Agnal Bites the Dust

Agnal the Chaotic cleric died last night, which was sad to me for a number of reasons, one of which was simply because he was nearing 3rd level and everyone else is 1st or 2nd. The dice were just against him - after four of the seven party members entered a chamber, a giant spider dropped from the ceiling, surprising them. It managed to land directly on top of Agnal, quickly scoring 6 points of attack damage (he had 7) and though its poison was weak (+2 bonus to save) and though he was a cleric (+2 against poison per S&W), he failed his saving throw.

To add insult to mortal injury, Girard critically fumbled and chopped off Agnal's arm while he lay unconscious and dying from poison. The irony was not lost on Henri, who himself had lost an arm on their very last outing. Henri was the first to speak up, saying “I get his armor” following the awkward silence that had briefly descended once they’d dispatched the spider. Agnal was stripped of all possessions, right down to his skivvies, following his wishes and the rites of his deity - Corrno, God of Thieves...

So much for all my work in devising the mysteries of his order. I suppose they still might be used by Kitoth, the magic user turned cleric following his blinding, who was converted by Agnal not long before his death. Big shoes to fill there Kitoth, especially considering you’re blind and nearly worthless since you don’t get magic until second level and have practically no way to gain experience points since, oh yeah, you’re blind.

It was immediately clear that the party leader was assumed to be Wagstaff again. The thief will no doubt miss his long time traveling companion but seems more than happy to be running the show again.

S&W Sessions Journal: Surgical Strike

Last night’s highlight was definitely the rot grubs - the idea of immersing the infected limb in fire didn’t occur to the party. Instead, a Day of the Dead moment happened, with the cleric casting cure light wounds as a porter held the infected henchmen down and a PC hacked the limb off. It didn't come off on the first blow, but with a natural 20, the limb sailed across the floor and the man was saved, although at the loss of his left arm.

There was some good fun in dice rolling and role playing this out, but in the end, the party wound up in a tougher situation… Earlier they’d only halfheartedly looked for additional help. They'd decided against hiring another porter who was practically begging for employment as their blind ex-magic user's aid, before departing again for the ruinous castle. Now they’ve got a blind man and a one-armed henchman.

They hightailed it back to the Turnapeak Inn. I guess it could’ve been worse.

S&W Sessions Journal: I Was Blind, Now I Can't See

Considering their magic user was now blind, everyone quickly agreed to return to town. Though it was dark, they managed to arrive at the Turnapeak Inn without incident, where their room and board had already been arranged for by their employer. They didn’t see Stebbins in the main hall, but they were very happy to see their old traveling companion and adventurer, Gulch. After gratuitous back slapping and a couple of introductions, they all sat down and began drinking in earnest - a bit cold heartedly considering the condition of their magic user. Skithath (their spastic porter) joined them after helping Kitoth to bed, and once everyone had put away a few pints, the subject turned to their leadership.

After some discussion, two votes were made. The first was open - everyone who wanted to keep Kitoth on as part of the group raised their glass and drank. Only one of the henchmen thought he should be let go. It was then agreed that he would no longer get a share. He'd be reduced to the status of a hireling in terms of pay, since all he would be able to do at best would be to pack loot out.

The second vote was about whether someone else should lead the group, considering how things had turned out recently. Gulch put up Agnal’s name as an alternative, and a secret vote was made using the dungeoneer method of dropping different types of coins into a sack. These were turned out by Gulch and surprisingly the results were unanimous - Wagstaff must have voted against himself. This improved the spirits of the crew considerably, although whether Wagstaff simply saw the writing on the wall or genuinely thinks Agnal will be a better leader is uncertain. Agnal does seem a strange choice, and it may be that Gulch is conniving to take the lead himself in the near future. It’s true that Agnal has saved the lives of more than one of them with his healing ability, but he’s generally quiet and introverted.

That night, the dice said that Agnal was to receive an important message from his god in a dream. In the morning, he awoke with an image still fresh in his mind: Kitoth praying to Agnal’s god and begging for guidance. He went to see him in his quarters and found him crying (or as close to it as he could given the state of his face and eyes). The cleric consoled him in slithering low tones, even sitting beside him and holding the magic user close to his chest. There was some pretty funny role playing going on here, as the blind magic user saw the light and accepted Corrno as his own god. “I…I want to believe…” etc.

After that, Agnal led him downstairs to the main hall where their employer Stebbins was waiting. They were all handed decent sacks of gold for their information. Having defeated a giant shrew, Wagstaff had thought to have the thing’s snout cut off and kept as proof. Stebbins seemed particularly excited by this when they presented it to him, and gave them an extra bag of gold for it. “My master will be very pleased!” Their thoughts then turned to better equipment, perhaps at an armory in Castelnaud. At this, our short session ended.

I’m trying to figure out how much experience to give Agnal for this conversion. The magic user had only a few hundred points himself and has opted to become a cleric, following in the footsteps of Agnal. I threw out all his experience and started him over, and he won’t be getting any magic until 2nd level, which should take ages given his blindness. It seems unlikely that he’ll survive many more sessions, but I’ve a couple ideas about how to make his blindness still more interesting.

S&W Sessions Journal: Who Wants to Play the Blind Magic User?

Our player-abandoned PC turned NPC, Kitoth the magic user was blinded last night by a spitting cobra. I’m really looking forward to seeing how this is handled. As a player in our short game at CaveCon1 (anyone interested in a CaveCon2 in mid-June, let me know), we had a blind hireling we tied by rope to another hireling. It became pretty funny actually… in this case, I suspect I’ll (as DM) be playing the character to a degree, unless we can find another player to pick him up. I hope the party doesn’t ditch him as useless; I’m looking forward to future role playing possibilities and planning on the highly intelligent Kitoth occasionally making better use of his other senses and still contributing to the party’s adventuring and well-being.

S&W Sessions Journal: Let’s not speak of these dead kobolds…

“Shall we slit their throats?” asked the magic user, having magicked the little reptilian-like humanoids to sleep.

“They’re obviously sub-human.” said one of the hirelings. “You know - like gnomes.”

“Sounds good to me.” said another.

With that, Skithath and Girard set to dispatching the peacefully snoozing creatures, one by one.

The beings were nearly naked, with no money or visible possessions other than their diminutive spears.

“Might be they were kobolds.” suggested Wagstaff.

“Yeessss” said Skithath. “I thinks I’s heard of them. There are kobolds up on the druid’s lands. Although I hear they’re real nice folk. Not like these ones. Uh, you don’t think these could have been some of them do ya?”

“We’ll never know now, will we?!?” answered Agnal the cleric.

The spastic porter seemed a bit pale suddenly. A mixture of confusion and concern could be read in his brow.

“Let’s not speak of these dead kobolds again then.” said Girard.

~

The night before, the group had heard what sounded like a man sobbing during the night. They investigated in the morning, but the only thing they found of interest were what appeared to be wolf tracks on top of their own, in the muddy trail they’d taken to the abandoned castle. The party then made another foray inside. They found and killed a hungry pair of wolves that seemed trapped in a courtyard, as well as kobolds and a couple more goblins. One of the latter managed to escape, followed closely by a younger one of their kind who’d been watching the battle from a short distance away.

Strangely enough, they also happened upon a lone man. He was very fearful of the party and described himself as a poor fur trader. The group did not restrain or interrogate him, and told him that he was trespassing on their employer’s property. He very promptly left.

There was a lot of dice rolling and it was a fast moving session - and a good time. I’m feeling very content with what others might think a fairly typical, unweird game. I haven’t been playing for decades straight, and reusing a map or parts of an old TSR module are not beneath me. Far from it - I’m running the games I wish I always had, with the intellectual and emotional maturity I’d been missing earlier. Yet still with goblins, kobolds, wolves - More than enough tonight, and probably tomorrow too.

S&W Sessions Journal: Introductions and Employment

This past session a player didn’t show up again and there’s been no explanation… that’s three times in a row. Maybe I’m a bit dense and he’s just not that into it. Which is fine, but I’ve been left wondering what to do with his character. I’m thinking again about my post about just who owns a PC - now I’m feeling pretty justified in letting him be played by someone else or used as an NPC. Either way he could easily die. Meh.

There were some major plot developments this session and for the first time in a long time the party seems to have a sense of direction and purpose. They were nearly broke. Kitoth the magic user offered to sell shares of his horse to the other party members (which they respectfully declined), and then he considered casting sleep on everyone in the inn’s common room and robbing them all. In the end, Wagstaff loaned him a few gold pieces, and they decided they should follow up on the lead that the mayor’s clerk had given them, especially considering that they'd paid for it.

They traveled west to the Turnapeak, an inn near Castelnaud. There they met a man named Stebbins. He hired them to investigate a small castle which his master had inherited - one that had fallen into ruin during the plague years some forty years ago. I should mention that some more regional history and background information was given this session - At present, the Dordogne valley was at peace but this was the exception rather than the norm. There was a deadly plague that nearly wiped out the human population a couple of generations back, and it’s only more recently that the population has begun to prosper from its (popkin) spices and grow again with the aid of outsiders. During the dark period, the forests in the area encroached upon the towns and are now host to numerous ruins of fairly recent origin. This was how I justified there being so few people in the area considering the size and number of castles. It also allows for a great deal of exploring opportunities relatively close to safe havens - an ideal place for low level adventurers.

Stebbins works for Tirel, who works for Claude. I’m hoping that this castle clearing business will turn into regular work for the party, eventually involving regular procurement of the free range monster meats that the semi-deranged Claude craves.

They made their way to the castle, did a short recon, and entered. They quickly ran into a trio of goblins (yep, just goblins!) and two of their number nearly died, one being brought back from the edge of death by Agnal the cleric. It’d been raining, and they were without blankets, bedrolls, or shelter of any kind. They elected to sleep outside, without fire and in silence, for fear of arousing the interest of any other denizens. Physically they’re a miserable bunch, but they’ve already recovered thirty five pounds of silver and gold - a small fortune in their experience.

Disagreements and Dungeoneer Democracy

In our last OSRIC session (where I’m a player), a ranger had bailed on the rest of the party while we discussed various tactics for taking out a magic user we’d cornered in a deeper part of the dungeon. His (later) explanation for this was that we were dithering and that some aspects of our plan were immoral. Regardless, we were able to overcome the magic user without him and our plan worked wonderfully. As we were binding and gagging the magic user, the ranger reappeared, shouting to us from across a chasm for instructions on how to regroup.

When it came time to divide the loot, my character announced that he didn’t believe the ranger deserved a take - which of course the ranger resented. It might have grown ugly, but I then suggested that we put it to a vote - a secret vote. I took a sack, turned it inside out in front of everyone, and then suggested everyone secretly ready one copper and one gold piece in their hands. If they believed he deserved a full share, they should place a gold coin into the sack, and if no share, then a copper. Again, the ranger objected - I acquiesced and suggested that a half share could be represented by a silver piece.

Now maybe this is done all the time in your games, but it’s the first time I can remember doing it myself… I really like the idea of hardened dungeoneers deciding matters like this - it brings to mind the pirates’ code. I can see using it often to resolve disputes and incorporating it into my own campaign as a well known and respected tradition among dungeoneers. Actually acting it out in a group would be easy, maybe using poker chips or just spare change to represent the different coins in the game.

In the end, the party overwhelmingly voted to give him a half share. Since my character is a thief, I’m already plotting how I might be able to slit a thin hole in the sack and steal future elections through sleight of hand. :)

S&W Sessions Journal: Prospecting in Domme

It’d been a month since our last session, and this one was shorter than usual since I've felt a bit run down lately... The party followed up on a hunch that they’d find employment in Domme and trekked there from the opposite end of the valley. It can be convenient having a setting loosely based on a real location - I was able to share a picture of Domme and its entrance which was helpful in describing its size and the height of its walls. Since it might be a base of operations, I provided an un-keyed map to make in-town directions and relative locations easier to handle. I also gave a much fuller description of the valley, including its dialects, appearance of the people, their gods, and a brief history of the wars between the groups that live on either side of the river. I hand waved all this as having been gleaned through small talk with locals at the tavern during their overnight stay in Beynac.

Entering Domme, they wandered along the interior walls to the north until they came upon a cemetery. They saw a priest consoling a man, both of whom appeared very ill once they'd come closer. They asked these two for directions to any kind of public announcements board and then if everything was alright. The priest gave them directions and told them that there was an illness that seemed to stubbornly return (despite their prayers); it afflicted the northeastern part of town (mostly slums) and if they could, they should stop off at the church of Frayse to thank him for their own health. At this the priest's companion began coughing heavily and the party quickly took their leave.

After successfully bribing a clerk at the mayor’s office and discovering that one of the jobs listed on the announcements board was really for a position as poison checker, Wagstaff offered him more money for information about more lucrative employment prospects. The clerk told them that they could head to the Turnapeak tavern near Castelnaud and ask for a man named Stebbins who could put them in touch with someone else who knew Claude de Sarlat - a wealthy man who hires monster hunters. They also learned that there was another group of adventurers in town that was looking for porters. They headed to a nearby inn hoping to find them and discover their plans.

At the Inn of the Pouting Popkin, they met Tim the legless halfling who did his best to annoy them with limericks and song. Tim dangled hints that he might know where the adventurers they were looking for had departed to, and also about some ruins, but they weren’t tipping him anywhere close to what he seemed to think appropriate. He was disappointed that the party didn’t find his music or rhymes amusing, and that they weren’t interested in the fact that he was once an adventurer too...

S&W Sessions Journal: To Domme for Popkins

Warning for players: Possible spoilers ahead, please stop reading.

At the start of the session, there was some discussion as to whether the PCs would do best to go back to the goblins’ cave and take their chances there (with the slim pickings last time) or whether they should try to find some other type of gainful employment. With the departure of the dwarves some time ago and with the addition of Gulch and Kitoth, the party has taken on a decidedly chaotic perspective. Infiltration of the local guild hall was discussed, as was kidnapping. Bounty hunting for popkin poachers was also on their mind, as well as popkin hunting themselves. Wagstaff somewhat creatively began to formulate a plan that would involve hiring a popkin hunter on the druid’s lands and then subsequently turning him in for a reward. It was at this point that through a lucky roll of the dice he noticed what appeared to be the shadow of someone standing outside of the closed door to their room. He quickly changed the subject to that of procuring hops for beer making and tried to stealthily approach the door. The eavesdropper must have suspected his own detection however, for when they threw open the door they found no one on the other side nor in the hall.

After this they decided to take a closer look at a jobs board one of them had spotted near the stables. There were three items there from my dubious job board listings. One sounded interesting to them, which read “Enjoy meeting your neighbors and working outside. Our product sells itself! See Trer in Domme.” They thought this sounded like it might have something to do with popkin fairies and that they should go there to investigate.

Domme lies on the very far side of the valley from where they were. I was a little surprised that the players decided to make for Domme (they had a map after all) and frankly a little disappointed too. I was personally hoping for some more hack and slash at the cave. Still, it’s cool to see them latch on to this idea of the popkin fairies.

The rest of the session involved their travel to the next town and fortress along the river, the great castle Beynac of Lord Beringer. They approached it at dusk after passing a guard station half way there. Both at the guard post and at Beynac itself there was some inspection of their belongings and tax collection which seriously irked Wagstaff in particular. Their funds are running seriously low again, and Wagstaff may find himself in the position of money lender to the rest of the party if things don’t improve soon. Approaching the inner bailey, they attempted to arrange an audience with Lord Beringer himself. The men-at-arms said that there might be a possibility in three weeks and to come back then. None of the party heard the snickering behind them as they took their leave.

OSRIC Sessions Journal: Backstabby & Burning Slime

We found a secret door at the dead end of a passage we'd been exploring last session, which we suspected would lead us to where our opponent was holed up. Demurarg cast invisibility on Gladric, who successfully made his Move Silently roll and crept up behind who he thought was the evil wizard. At the same time, a portion of the rest of the party went back to an earlier location we’d found, where we’d attacked him across a narrow chasm. The ranger abandoned the party, and we had no idea where he went - very suspicious. Perhaps he didn’t like the rough treatment of our captive.

Playing Gladric, I chose to use my once per session d30 option for a backstabbing attempt. I rolled a 29, adding +1 for my DEX bonus, a 30. The DM ruled maximum damage x2, which came to 14 points - the figure collapsed and Gladric became visible. At this point the remaining figure (what we’d assumed was the magic user’s sidekick) threw back his cloak and exclaimed something to the effect that Gladric would now die for having killed his assistant. Gladric took off running back the way he came, as the rest of the party lurking across the chasm emerged to attack with missile weapons. Demurarg cast magic missile which was enough to put the bad guy at the edge of death.

However, the giant yellow slime monster was getting ready to attack. My memory of things is a little fuzzy, but it seems like our cleric Ouze tried to grab the crown from the head of the dying wizard. We knew this was how he controlled the slime monster. Gladric was always a little suspicious of Ouze (maybe because of his name) and yelled “Traitor! Attack him!” It might have been premature or foolish, but in any event everyone else seemed to believe Gladric and Ouze was forced to run away, dropping the crown. The slime monster then attacked, and we allowed the druid to use the crown to keep the thing immobile while we threw flask after flask of burning oil onto it. Finally killing it, we threatened the wizard into revealing his treasure vault location and found a decent haul. I’m a little concerned that the ranger and cleric are in cohoots and waiting in ambush at the entrance to the dungeon. Also that I might have mistakenly made an enemy of a friend. Meh, all in a day’s work for a thief. I offered our captive (Jugarg) freedom and then employment as a porter, and he accepted.

A lot of the session was taken up by discussion of various attack strategies. For me, the funniest part was when Marcus was busted for not paying attention. When it was his turn and asked what his character was going to do, he paused for a long moment and then dropped a d20 into his dice tower. “18” he announced with seriousness. We weren’t in combat and there was no reason to roll a d20. There was another long pause before I burst out laughing as we realized he had no idea what was going on. DM Nick took it in stride though.

S&W Sessions Journal: A Groom and a Cave

At the start of the last session, the party learned more about popkin fairies while dining at a tavern inside the keep. They hadn’t realized that in some parts of the valley it was actually illegal to hunt popkins, and they all sat up straight when they learned that the Druid of Marqueyssac sometimes posted rewards for the capture of poachers on what he considered to be his domain.

Wagstaff still intended to lead the party with their new men-at-arms hirelings back to the cave where Agnal thought he had detected goblins. This time they’d also be accompanied by a new PC - the chaotic magic user Kitoth, as well as a single, spastic porter named Skithath. With some whiskey in their DM, the players were treated (or perhaps mistreated) to a few exchanges with me speaking in character and with an accent. I hope the porter survives, I look forward to being able to play him from time to time. Wagstaff’s player found him very tedious, but Gulch hired him as a groom and enjoys the fawning.

It was a classic session, one that some players might find boring or cliched, but we haven’t had any dungeoneering in a long while so I think we all enjoyed it. There were a couple of goblin battles with the new magic user showing his worth, and Agnal finally has a god and can use some magic now that he’s 2nd level (he settled on Corrno, a minor god of thieves from The Unknown Gods). There was very little treasure recovered, but enough to keep them housed and fed again in town and to pay for their retainers. With some wounds to attend to, they returned safely to the keep.

OSRIC Session Journal: Trippin' at Camp

I’ve been meaning to put up a session report from our OSRIC game (where I’m not the DM) for more than a week now…

In this last short session, the two clerics and the illusionist drank the addicting, vision producing substance we had in our possession in the hopes that it would convey (as purported) some of our enemy’s tactics. We were pretty certain that the enemy was also drinking it, desiring to see what we were doing.

We knew the "Midnight Eye” often merely produced hallucinations, but still hoped to learn something useful. This wasn’t the first time we’d had some party members drink the stuff, and had prepared accordingly - we wanted the imbibers to be well rested and battle worthy again as soon as possible.

Vadco, Gladric, and the ranger were on watch outside of the cave entrance - they heard something coming down the tunnel, scraping sounds, and then they saw a handful of goblins with bows, all of them slow and obviously under the influence of the amber ooze. Too late we realized that we might have had the others drink one at a time instead of all at once.

The goblins were at some distance, and Gladric shouted to Demurarg to cast her fireball. She was hesitant to use the spell on mere goblins, but Gladric talked her into it. Vadco nearly killed Gladric by misfiring his bow, but Demurarg wiped the goblins out. Vadco perhaps somewhat drunkenly considered skinning the goblins of their faces for masks, but as they were burned up pretty badly it was not worth pursuing or discussing.

Now the party turned its attention more fully to those who had imbibed the magic elixir. Ouze the cleric sat cross-legged with his hands outstretched and an ecstatic look on his face. Dennis the gnome stood staring blankly ahead. Benedict (the lawful good cleric) was curled up in a fetal position shivering and moaning. They threw a blanket over him and went to sleep. Three hours later everyone checked back in with the imbibers.

Ouze said “I had a feeling of unity with all things. It almost makes no sense to talk about it now.” “Yes, yes,” said Gladric impatiently. “I’ve been there. But did you see anything of value with regard to our opponents' future actions?” Ouze’s further responses were too Moody Blues to be of any real use, so the group moved on to the next imbiber.

Dennis the gnome said “I was amongst a vanguard of warriors. They were perhaps insects of tremendous stature. They rode great steeds made of minerals into a mist of many colors.” He chuckled to himself. The group tried to interrogate him further, but it was quickly obvious that anything else he said was indecipherable. Gladric surmised that their opponents might be riding giant ants as steeds. Vadco felt that it was a good omen.

They went to Benedict next. “I felt so cold and alone and sick. Please! Give me wine! Trouble awaits! Dire trouble!” was pretty much all they could glean from him. It was fun role-playing interacting with these three fools tripping in our campground, trying to discern anything that might be of value in their visions. Kudos to Nick the newbie DM.

They asked the druid with them if he knew of any race or creatures that might fit the description of insects riding steeds, to which he replied that he wasn’t aware of anything like that and that Dennis might simply be relating some heroic story of the gnomes that had bubbled up from the depths of his brain. This seemed as likely as anything.

Their captive claimed to be starving, and Gladric was a little cruel in testing whether or not this was true - he was concerned that their rations might be running low and reluctant to give them up to someone he didn’t trust. Vadco helpfully suggested that there was some roasted goblin nearby if he got desperate.

Everyone ate and rested for another day and then they went underground again, back to the sole tunnel which they hadn’t yet explored. This passageway was very narrow. Anrid and the druid entered and proceeded a short ways when they saw three pairs of eyes which became war dogs running towards them and growling. Dennis fumbled some oil at their feet and yelled a warning to not drop any torches. Vadco was able to attack from behind with a spear and he and the druid managed to dispatch the beasts. The druid thought he heard something ahead though.

They proceeded carefully, coming out into a chamber of indeterminate size. Emerging slowly from the darkness they saw several naked women… Slobbering amber ooze from their mouths. One of them seemed to awkwardly wield a cat o’ nine tails. Another feebly brandished a noose, and another a piece of wood. These were defeated fairly quickly, but the druid was knocked to the ground unconscious and the session ended.

S&W Sessions Journal: A Fat Dinner

Thursday night's game turned into a short solo session with only Nick able to play. There’s a new magic user PC named Kimoth (rolled up to replace the fighter named Frayse a few sessions back), but since his player wasn’t with us, I had him stay at the inn. He’s from the far south, on the borderlands of a region called Athanor. :)

There was the usual mucking about in town, but Wagstaff had earlier accepted an invitation and escort to dinner with the castellan. During this session he went, and was seated a good ten or more seats away from him. Wagstaff listened intently for rumors and ate the best meal of his life. He purposefully limited his drink consumption to no more than 3 beers, but something happened. Nick was a little pissed when I told him he was feeling inebriated, and I had to explain that the food itself seemed intoxicating, perhaps magically so, and he felt compelled to drink more as well… In the end, he never mustered the courage to speak to the castellan directly (or perhaps Nick wisely sensed that he might say something more revealing than he would have liked, given his state), but he did glean some useful information about the location of the caves. He also learned from a guildmaster’s wife that the castellan admires “Courage…and punctuality!” It was obvious that she herself admired the castellan a bit more than her husband.

After dinner, Wagstaff had to stagger back to the inn alone. He passed out in the common room even though he’d paid for a private room, and was awoken by Agnal and Gulch the next morning. These two tried to pick his brain - after this, Wagstaff convinced them to journey the mile or so down the road towards the caves he’d heard about at the party.

Nick’s a very cautious low level player, I’m happy to say. He had the party approach one of the cave entrances to within 15 feet. Once at that distance, Agnal detected the stench of goblins (having had an embarrassing previous experience with them). Wagstaff was happy enough to find the caves location and a sense of what they held, and they returned to the keep, perhaps considering that they were only three in number. They'd hired two men-at-arms in the tavern, but these hadn’t joined them on this brief recon trip. That was the end of the session. At this point, I’m starving to get them underground and chopping up monsters again.

Wherein I Question the DM’s Authority - OSRIC Session Journal

I’ve been very busy with work lately but we did get some dungeon crawling done earlier this week. The height of the session was when Gladric the Thief scouted ahead and found an opening that led to a cavern with a chasm splitting it in two. Two figures were seen moving on the other side. At the bottom of the chasm was a large pool of yellow jello, which we assumed was the monster we’d been seeking, and the figures we took to be the evil magic user we sought and probably an assistant. Elaborate plans were made for a missile attack and ambush and then combat ensued.

The day after the session I felt a little badly about how I’d criticized the DM during the game for some mechanics handling, although now I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, it's his very first time refereeing - and I’m very glad he’s taken up OSRIC. On the other hand, occasionally I feel like parts of his game could be improved with some constructive criticism. I’ve been DM’ing a S&W game and paying strict attention to certain aspects of it, so it’s possible I was a projecting a little or vocalized more than I should have.

I might have waited until after the session had ended, but because the issues involved combat I raised my concerns as they were happening. After all, if players feel that their characters are killed due to sloppy DM’ing, who’s to say that the same thing won’t happen again, causing them to lose interest? Initiative, order of attack, who has attacked and who hasn’t - among other things most players are paying close attention to these. So after a couple of lapses I grew a little concerned and couldn’t stop myself.

I don’t (and didn’t) want to make too much of it and we all have our off days. There’s a part of me that wants to see him get better and more comfortable with certain parts of the game, but I struggle with how hands off to be. I’m a fairly rusty DM and relatively inexperienced myself (in comparison to many other blogging DMs at least!)… We’ve played one on one in the past and it was less of an issue then. In those games we would stop to discuss certain ways of doing things to establish precedent, without worrying about boring or otherwise putting off another player.

Anyhow, it’s just a game and all that - these things will happen. On the positive side, I sent a note apologizing if I was out of line and he responded that it was all good and that the bottom line was that we’d had fun. I think I have a tendency to over-think these things and it might have hardly been noticed by anyone else.

The lingering question I have is, when should you, and should you ever, object to how your DM is doing something, particulary during the session itself? I know that the circumstances of each game will be unique, but maybe there are certain times when it’s the duty of the players to stand up to or question their DM. Yet not knowing his motives and considering his power makes doing so a risky endeavor. A crafty DM might make it look like he’s screwing up combat just to put the players off for some reason that will become clear to them later in the game (that magic item is cursed and has a minus to hit modifier - hmm, didn’t think of that did you smarty pants! Sit down zB! Etc.) It’s a strange game.

S&W Sessions Journal: So Much for the Stargazer

I’d thought we’d be spending last night's session really tearing into Raggi's Tower of the Stargazer, but things went in an unexpected direction. One of the players mixed up the session dates and didn’t make it, so I had his character sit down in the front foyer of the tower and drink one of the fine bottles of wine he’d found on our previous session. This was Gulch the Assassin - I didn’t feel comfortable having him tag along without his player. Without him along and after losing one of their hirelings at the door, the party was pretty nervous about the whole business. Wagstaff’s player started fishing for some information about how long it might be before Agnal levels up and gets a spell (clerics don’t get anything until 2nd level in my game), but all I could tell him was that it was soon and that he was closer than Wagstaff himself.

So somewhat reluctantly perhaps, the party started up the stairs with their leader Wagstaff the Thief encouraging the other characters to pay particular attention to their environment. With the quick death of their new hireling just entering the tower, they knew that this was a deadly place. After exploring the second level of the tower, they made their way up a flight of stairs, discovering some blood trickling out of a keyhole. They checked for traps but remained uncertain about what to do next, when Wagstaff commanded Olav to try the door. Olav the Dwarf was afraid after seeing what had happened to the last guy, and declined. The porter, poor fellow, was asked and also declined. Wagstaff suggested they all draw lots, but the porter didn’t want to be included. He finally relented that he would include himself in a drawing for a large bonus sum. This was too much for Wagstaff and they decided to call off the whole business, leaving the tower!

I hadn’t expected that, but I can’t say I blame them either. The party backtracked to the river, narrowly avoiding a troll on the way. They had to pitch camp on the beach and waited another day until a passing ship came by that they could flag down. Booking passage, the dwarf brothers Olav and Aleger decided that they wanted to check out the mining claim they’d inherited which was downstream only another day. Wagstaff wasn’t interested in this, and the party then split, with Agnal and Gulch joining Wagstaff and the dwarfs (NPCs at this time) convincing all of the hired help to go with them. Ouch! Another seriously unexpected development. I honestly didn’t understand this as the dwarfs' interest was on the way downstream to the High Falls which lie at the head of the Dordogne Valley to the east. All I can think is that there might have been some resentment or feeling of being railroaded but that’s fine… roll with it right?

So the three characters continued downstream after bidding farewell to their former companions at their drop off point. I got a little nervous since I was completely improvising so much. Still, I was happy that it appeared the Dordogne setting was going to be used after all since I’d originally begun developing it for my wife who’s since shown little interest in playing (and I’m not going to press it). That said, linking the setting into the larger world hadn’t really been sketched out yet. Though it’s based on a location in France, I wanted a way to isolate it from the larger world - hence the High Falls, a steep drop off and cliff that extends quite a distance north and south, with a valley beginning at the base of the falls with the water continuing to flow east.

There was a small permanent camp at a place just short of the falls and at the top of a steep trail which descended into the valley. The party was considering hiring guides when they were approached and offered employment as additional guards for the goods that had been offloaded. This they accepted, and they were led down the trail to a place where the road diverged a little ways from the river to the south. The caravan was heading to a medium sized keep on a rise slightly to the north, else they could continue onwards to the east, following the river before it entered the valley proper with its numerous tightly packed castles and small towns. Perhaps due to their small number, they decided to stick with the caravan and made their way to the keep where they secured lodging and sought an audience and employment with a certain castellan. This was when I brought out a trusted old friend published by TSR way back in the day. I knew I'd use it for at least one of the castles of the region, and since I wasn't quite prepared, the time seemed ripe.

Funny thing is, I'm rotating that tower back into play at some point. It's going to have the same quality as that fortress in Krull that disappears and randomly appears in other locations every so often. When it does, everyone will talk about it of course because of the lightning. So it'll be there when and if the players are ready again.

S&W Sessions Journal: He's dead, you passed.

I was able to follow through on that assassination solo game idea I had a while back in our semi-regular Swords & Wizardry game last night. Instead of skipping the usual session though, Gulch’s player and I just started a couple of hours earlier on our own. To be honest, it was railroady but I was still glad we did it and he seemed to enjoy the roleplaying.

It played out more or less how I’d originally sketched it out here. Two slightly higher level representatives of the guild that Gulch belongs to came to town. A boy messenger had sent word to Gulch at the inn to expect them. They met up one morning before the others had awoken and these two informed him that they were to observe and rate his first hit, and help him slightly by providing lookouts.

The player was a little uncomfortable upon learning that his target was a lawful man, and a storekeeper who’d previously hired the party. I got the sense this was mostly due to his being worried about what the rest of the party would think if they found out, rather than due to any morals. His new comrades (Udo and Urnok) told him that since the target’s home was close to the local militia’s barracks, each would cover a section of road in either direction to delay anyone coming or be able to provide warning or assistance if something went drastically wrong. The night the hit was planned for, Gulch went down the deserted street towards the house - he saw and nodded to the first assassin, Udo, the higher ranking one he thought, knowing that the other must be ahead and out of sight, past the house and further up the road.

He snuck around the back, tried the door, and found that it was unlocked. He stealthily crept inside in the moonlight. This wall all kind of creepy and tension filled, considering he had murder on his mind, knew the target was married, and that the constable wasn’t physically far away. Gulch had been given some poison, and had originally planned on delivering it in some of the new Harvest Festival beer that everyone in town had been drinking lately. Udo had talked him out of it though for reasons that will become clear.

Creeping from one room to another, he eventually found himself in a living room area with a sofa where he saw the snoring form of the storekeeper’s wife. Around her were several large, empty beer bottles. A little relieved, he spotted a door and a set of stairs up. He chose the creaky stairs of course! Fortunately for him, they weren't creaky enough to wake the wife. He used the bannister to distribute his weight and crept upstairs. After poking around up there, he found the master bedroom and heard snoring. In the darkness, he could see the form of the storekeeper. He couldn’t see his face as it was under sheets and seemed to be turned away from him. As he moved closer he almost dove under the bed when the form began to stir and stopped snoring for a moment. Finally close enough to strike he pulled out his dagger and poison.

Just at this moment, the form on the bed pulled the sheets away from his head, revealing the devilishly smiling face of Urdok. “Don’t worry, your man’s already dead. We dumped him in the river earlier this evening… His wife? We drugged their beer. She’ll have a bad hangover and wonder why her husband ran away.” Turns out Urdok was the senior assassin and the whole thing was a test, one that Gulch had passed. Next time he’ll be given his own, real target.

After this we played with the whole party, which decided it was time they left town probably to Gulch’s relief. There were a lot of options I had prepared, with roughly every compass direction covered in some manner. The idea was to go further down river towards Aleger and Olav’s inherited mining claim but that they’d stop off and investigate a tower along the way - well known in the area because of the continuous lightning striking it.

After selling some loot from the temple, they hired passage on a tall ship. Though they could have followed the road the five or six miles or so it might have taken them to reach a turn off to the tower, Agnal knew from previous experience that there were sometimes goblin ambushes that way and was reluctant to travel on foot.

A couple of men joined them as porters when they left the ship, and they made their way to the tower. Thus began their foray into the Tower of the Stargazer.

OSRIC Sessions Journal: Smoke 'em out

When the party made it to the abandoned mine they discovered there the remains of a great number of orcs and goblins, and met a ranger from many sessions back who had previously tried to get the party to join him. He and a merchant from town (a high level thief) had been slowly whittling down the numbers of the creatures here, but the thief had finally had enough and left. All of the goblins were afflicted with the strange illness that makes them even more stupid than usual.

They made camp and kept watch on the four entrances. Gladric and Vadco were able to capture a figure which emerged and had tried to sneak up on them. After a lot of questioning and threats, this cloaked human explained how he was a servant of an evil wizard who himself was employed by the leader of the bandits. He was the only one of the slaves kept that wasn’t diseased - and he’d been attempting to pour a poison into the ears of party members as they slept. The poison he carried was a small jar which actually contained a piece of a larger jelly-like creature of some kind. This man said it was intelligent and working with the wizard.

Gladric gained some more information from him about the layout of the chambers closest to the four entrances to the mine. Later, Gladric and several others entered one of the entrances and descended several hundred steps to verify the story they were told - that there was a sealed portal on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Ouze the cleric identified a glyph of protection from evil on the portal and they were reluctant to open it in case it was keeping something trapped inside. They rejoined the others on the surface.

Then a plan was hatched to cover two of the other small openings to the mine with skins and blankets and build a fire inside the entrance to the one their captive had crept out of… This took a while to make happen but eventually there was a lot of smoke being produced. The idea was that it would be better to try to get the diseased orcs and goblins their captive had described to come out and fight in the open rather than risk ambush or traps. Nothing came out, but they pitched camp another night thinking that even if it hadn’t been enough to drive them out, they might now come to investigate the cause of the fire. Whether they were right or by chance, seven did come out - all were killed with no party losses, though there were a couple of close calls.