The Front Gate

So today in a side game (the one we colloquially call "the Crabs" though the party's true name is "The Eager Blades") the party gathered its muscle, tensed its flexers, and then drove straight for the main entrance of a goblin stronghold in Haldera. They almost didn't come back out again.

Here's the skinny: fresh from a random encounter with a wyvern (which they survived by sheer luck), this level 2-3 party retreat to a nearby hill to surveil the Cold Hill Warriors—the real reason they were in area to begin with. The Cold Hill Goblins are a successful raiding tribe of hobgoblins leading a great number of lesser goblin folk in soldierly order.

They've done a great deal of damage to the regions around their stronghold, having sponsored a human bandit camp (which the Blades wiped out a while back) as well as conquering smaller goblin and hobgoblin tribes to bring them under a single federated rulership.

The Blades discovered the goblin camp amongst the northern fringes of the Cold Hills: partly positioned atop the spire of stone (all the hills in the region are large spire-like formations of rust red slate and red soil, Haldera is mostly high desert) the tents were immediately struck after the wyvern attack. Exploring the hill in the wake of this, the Blades discovered a cave with a tunnel hewn in the back leading beneath the hill—thus began their assault on one of the main two gates of the Cold Hills Goblins.

It did not go well. At first things were smooth: a large portion of a patrol was slept and the rest quickly slaughtered. However, the noise brought more goblins and hobgoblins up from the deeps. Unlike the normally disunited fighting of kobolds, orcs, or goblins alone, they were organized and well drilled. The Blades repulsed the first attack with a grease spell and some swordwork, barring the way... until the hobgoblins burst through and began to force entry into the room.

This resulted in a route which would have become a slaughter had the wizard Freydun not turned around to torch the leading two hobgoblins with a burning hands and force the rest to hang back while the party made good its escape.

What's the moral of this story? That goblins can hear, and when they hear fighting they respond. That well organized enemies are much more dangerous than loosely organized enemies (if the hobgoblins hadn't been clever and defensively emerged from the tunnel into the forechamber and instead had been bottled up, or hadn't used ranks of deep spears to make the most of their attacks, the PCs would have been able to make a brutal slaughter of the 12-strong unit that, in this case, actually drove them out of the hill) and that plans are better than fly-by-night attacks.

Of course, now that the Blades know some things about the hill they'll likely not return through the Front Gate... and may in fact come back with extra sword-arms, extra firepower, or extra levels. They learned a valuable lesson today: a lesson in caution.

Troubles in the Social Dungeon

We've had some players who have trouble interacting with NPCs in the past. This can be a major hinderance to a parties' forward development—social interaction, like it or not, is a major part of playing D&D. Talking to NPCs may in fact be more important to the survival of the party than simply have good battle plans. While you may be able to swing a battle with dice, the way we play it there are simply no dice available to help you when talking to an NPC; you get your initial reaction check (and often not even that, if I am certain of the way the NPC may react to you) and then you must "win" the conversation based solely on your own merits.

While most non-confrontational conversations usually (and here I must be clear and say usually) do not degenerate into unplayable "loss" situations, it is the conversations that have more on the line of which I now speak. These are people who are potentially hostile or already inclined to mistrust the player. I'm not sure how many of these types of folks people come in contact with in every day life, but I feel it must be at least a few. Winning them over is almost never a matter of simply acting politely, particularly in a world where they might kill you just because they don't like your face.

I will use an example that I encountered last night in a game session, which will require a little bit of 10th Age background to understand. There was a hermit living out in the wild places of Haldera, beyond the normal boundaries of a town and in the deep hills, hardscrabble land that it is very difficult to travel (he has inspired the hermit list I hope to post later in the week). He dwells in an old wyrmish ruin, inhabiting the broken obsidian buildings and muttering to himself. A madman in town thought he was a necromancer, but in fact he is one of Rhamna's priesthood—a minor goddess devoted to revenge. These men are known as Debtors, and they dwell beyond the bounds of traditional society and wait for people who want revenge to come out to them and pray for it. At that time, they generally go around and help enact whatever vengeance it is.

The company (the Eager Blades, who had been the Crabs but decided they needed a new name) approached the ruins at dusk and saw the glow of a fire. Fearing a necromancer, hobgoblins, or some other nameless terror, they sent their thief to sneak up on the source of the light and determine what it was. You know, classic Tolkien thief-work. Unlike Bilbo, he smeared his face with charcoal and got to it. Like Bilbo, however, he lingered overlong and then went and peeked his face right into the doorway where the light was coming from. The Debtor, Ralgath, saw him and snuck out behind.

With an angry and clearly unbalanced tone he asked what the thief thought he was doing. "Oh, I'm just a traveler out for a breath of air." This was mistake number one: an obvious lie, since they were far from any settlements. Fearing that the intruder had come to kill him, this prompted Ralgath to attack. Vihnac, the thief, drew his sword to defend himself, which Ralgath instantly cast Heat Metal on. He demanded that the intruder drop his sword. Vihnac sheathed it.

Ralgath began to laugh, telling him that that would probably be his last mistake, even as the sheath began to heat up and the leather smoke and curl. Vihnac didn't know what to do, so he announced that he was only defending himself as he was a "traveling poet." Ralgath was irritated to be obviously lied to again, so struck him in the chest with his cudgel. In response, the thief unbuckled his belt even as it became white-hot and seared his side.

Ralgath said, "Now FLEE or perish, liar!" and Vihnac responded "Your graciousness becomes you." Ralgath took that amiss and clubbed Vihnac in the skull.

While the thief, miraculously, did not perish he was down and out. Even in postgame he had a hard time seeing what he did wrong—if by wrong you mean, provoking an evil hermit. Of course, had he simply been content to admit that the hermit had bested him, there would be no post about this today, but he insisted that he had acted in such a way that the NPC should in no way have behaved how he did.

Here, I think, are several breaking points where we can examine his behavior and glean a better understanding of how dangerous social interactions can work:

1) The First Lie

"I am a traveler,  I wished only to pass through without harm."

"I meant to you no disrespect or ill will."

These two phrases were said back to back. Now, it is probably true that the thief meant this particular Debtor no disrespect OR ill will. However, it was also clear (since he was sneaking around and armed) that he meant someone some disrespect or ill will. So this did not play well.

However, social situations will rarely go bad all at once, but rather steadily fall apart. The Debtor, angry now and fearful that he needs to defend himself, swung at Vihnac but missed:

You instinctively duck and feel a foot-thick knotty club go whizzing above your head. "Sneaking in, eh? Thought you could get the better of me, did you?"

2) I have no beef

Vihnac valiantly tries to defuse the situation, but draws his sword in defense. He bravely speaks one of the most hilarious lines in D&D history: "I have no beef with you, man-son. I merely wish to pass peacefully."

The Debtor decides to test him for his worth: if the thief really has no problem with him, he shouldn't be afraid to be unarmed in front of him, right? This is insane hermit logic, of course, but he's an insane hermit.

He points a long-nailed finger at your sword and speaks some strange words of power. Then, he barks, "Drop your blade or live to regret it, fool!"

The man laughs maniacally. "You did not seek to find me, but here you came! And now, like a thief, you come to slay me in the dark. Well, you will find your tools of slaying are not your own!"

This is when Heat Metal is cast.

3) I sheathe my sword

Which elicits this response:

You sheathe your blade and he hisses, "That will not save you. You did not do as I commanded, and now you will be in great pains to."

4) I am merely a traveling poet

Trying to dig himself out of trouble, Vihnac insists that he didn't draw his sword to hurt the man but rather to defend himself. After all, he's "merely a traveling poet." This obvious and somewhat bizarre falsehood prompts Ralgath to attack him again—at least claim to. Vihnac however, struggles and gets his belt off. Ralgath is instantly less worried and tells him to get the hell out.

5) Flee or perish, liar!

You get it off before it does any further damage, but it is now a brilliant blazing outline of a sword. The man laughs and says, "Now FLEE or perish, liar!"

Vihnac's final response:

"Your graciousness becomes you."

The Rundown

So, we have witnessed the slow deterioration of a situation which, to admit, was not great to begin with. At stage #1, Vihnac presented an already wary foe with an obvious lie. Seeing through it was no big deal for him, it required no rolls or even second-thinking on my part. If someone was peeking into your house with coalblack smeared all over him, would you think he was "just passing through"? No, probably not.

So, at breaking point one Vihnac could have tried to explain himself (rather than pretend it was no big deal, since it clearly was to this man).

At stage #2 he did well to try to defend himself, since the guy was unpredictable. Who knows if he could be talked down? However, he still didn't articulate WHY he was peering into Ralgath's house, which is what concerned the Debtor.

At stage #3 things had already broken down. Vihnac's player was desperate, and not reading very well I think. This, unfortunately, happens sometimes in IRC D&D and failure to read the posts carefully can result in some anguish.

At stage #4, things are past saving. Again, without explaining his presence, his looks, or his weapon, Vihnac tells another obvious lie.

By #5, you would be well-advised simply to flee. Ralgath, and most angry/crazy/evil NPCs was not inclined to take anything well by this point because he had a firm opinion of the PC (thief, murderer, liar). By the time an NPC really despises you, I don't think there's very much you can do in the way of de-escalation besides listening to them.

So goes another day in the Social Dungeon, where escalatio and chest puffing are the norm. Here, though, even though Vihnac tried not to puff himself up but rather make the situation less dangerous, it is apparent that some finesse is required. Disengagement, as in combat, is always preferable to escalation.

The Sunday Sneak: Haldera

This from the regions section of the Atlas:

Haldera

Known primarily for housing the Abode of the Daystar, Haldera borders Muldonor in the west, the Emberland in the east, Wilderlund to the north and Synd to the south. The term is Ralashite for a “strong place,” and indeed this is where those fleeing the devastation of the dragon-empire of Synd found their refuge. A rugged land of beautiful vistas, deep forests, and multifold caverns crisscrossing the terrain, Halderites have been making strong places of the hills and caves since the Fourth Age. The native Halath people have bred with Shushites, imperials, Mercantines, and Valelans but the wood elves of Haldera have remained unchanging.

History

First settled by wood elves in the Sword Age, Haldera was little more than a source of charcoal and wood for the Shushites, of slaves for the Syndic dragons, and of good strong blue stone for the Mercantines. The Halath and the wood elves lived in relative harmony, sharing similar sorts of lifestyles—semi-nomadic, simple, and without permanent construction.

In fact, the wood elves were left so long to their own devices that they actually developed a strange state, contrary to their anarchic tendencies throughout the rest of Arunia. In Haldera they founded a permanent council-meeting of druids and ents who had been awakened by the tribes. They did a brisk trade with the forest giants of Rootwood until the Elf-Dragon War. The wood elf population was devastated, leaving their tribal federation a shadow of what it once had been. Shushite men poured into Haldera from the high plateaus, led by the legendary Shoshana of the Rose.

In what became known as Shoshana’s Treaty, the Shushites, the Halath, and the elves agreed to split the rule of the territory between them. The compact essentially guaranteed a strong mannish state would never form as it prohibited men from naming themselves lords or controlling property in excess of what they could work with their own hands and a single team of oxen.

It was some time after the war that the caves began to grow unsafe to use, filling up with renegade orcs and bugbears from the Wilderlund. In the wake of the violence, many Avaunites banded together to build up the Temple of the Daystar following ancient Shushite plans: a step-pyramid, plated in hammered gold. In time, the temple would become the center of the Avaunite faith, growing in influence until the cataclysm of the Eight Age drowned the Golden Temple and left the cult leaderless.

Today Haldera is a loosely affiliated state ruled by the Temple of the Daystar in tandem with the elvish Council of Whispers. The towns of Haldera owe nominal devotion to the temple and to the druidic circle, but in practice they rarely have occasion to interact with them. Gnolls, orcs, bugbears, and other evil creatures have been a growing concern of Haldera, plaguing even those regions flush with coin and soldiers from the temple.

Government

Though ancient custom dictates that no man may own more land than a single team of oxen can plow in a day, this restriction doesn’t apply to temples. For this reason, the Temple of Avauna is the dominant political power in Haldera. They collect tithes from all the mannish towns there, providing for the weapons and training of their militias as well as the establishment and upkeep of a number of halls of healing throughout Haldera.

The presence of the temple has drawn a great number of new settlers to the region, which puts stress on the second half of the ancient Halathan arrangement: the elves. The wood elves of Haldera are a tightly knit community of semi-nomadic tribes who regard the very earth and trees as divine. The Temple cannot act without the express agreement of the Council of Whispers, held at the ancient grove twice a season.

Defenses

While towns may have militias trained at the Temple of the Daystar and mercenaries hired by the temple’s monies, the true defenses of Haldera come in the form of the elvenwood rangers and druids. These silent watchers stand guard over the isolated settlements of men as well as the tribes of wood elves who travel through the land. The Council of Whispers is their nominal leader, but each tribe maintains its own number of rangers (only the most elite of which actually have the ranger class) and priests.

When darkness threatens Haldera, it is generally these forces that act. The Temple, as it has deep coffers, has also been known to hire up mass numbers of mercenaries to serve as a makeshift army in the case of threats of invasion. The elves, strong though they may be, are not numerous and the rangers have never been used as a true army.

The Haldera Mindset

The mannish population of Haldera has a certain frontier quality. They dwell in fortified towns amidst a vast emptiness that they cannot claim for their own by custom; something about this tends to make them protective of the land and to have little respect for those recently arrived who seek to make inroads on the untouched wild. Smallfolk of Haldera dwell peacefully in rural and pastoral settlements, often times living side-by-side near wood elf tribes.

The wood elves of Haldera are extremely numerous compared to the isolated groups that live in other places throughout the north. This has led them towards a secure culture that doesn’t require intense suspicion to survive. They freely trade with men, though they still find dwarves generally abhorrent (the burning of trees for coke and the mining of the great clay hills being a sore point between the Council of Whispers and local dwarven settlements).

There is a general sense of community amongst all those who dwell within Haldera, however. The Temple is an erstwhile protector, and Halderans often express pity for people who are the subjects of kings and potentates. They will go through great lengths to tell outsiders of the freedoms of Haldera—as much land as a man can plow, and no knights or lords swaggering over you.

Locations of Interest

The Abode of the Daystar

This massive temple complex is the heart of the Avaunite church. Dominated by the gold-plated ziggurat (built in tribute to the ancient Shushite style) where the Lights of Avauna live and determine the future of the faith, the grounds of the Abode swarm with physicians, healers, priests, emissaries, heralds, and holy warriors. The Abode is so well staffed as to neglect the expedience of walls, relying instead on their reputation amongst the monstrous foes of Haldera not to attack or harass their people. The temple also owns several rods of land outside the complex, which is tilled by Avaunite priests.

Physicians trained in Haldera are said to be the most learned in all the north, and many make pilgrimage to the Abode of the Daystar in order to improve their craft. The huge year-round population and arrival of seasonal pilgrims has transformed the Abode into a sort of self-contained city, the only such settlement in all of Haldera. Since the Temple must run the tithe-towns of the region as well, governmental offices have sprung up within the great ziggurat.

Adventurers coming into Haldera make the Abode a first stop, as the Lights generally have work that needs doing and not enough sword-arms to do it. The temple is a widespread employer of adventurers within Haldera to deal with problems like goblin overpopulation, orc raids, or even simply to clear out the often resurfacing remnants of the Necromancer’s scattered armies.

Customs

Halderans have few customs of their own that differentiate them from other folk in the region; this makes those that they do have stand out all the more.

• Halderans of all faiths will not assart new land or even so much as cut down trees or uproot shrubs without first offering a prayer to Eminia and Aloran.
• A bowl of milk and meat is often left out for the spirits on the step of Halderan homes at night. This may have been something learned from the smallfolk.
• With dwarven settlements few and far between, metal is a far rarer resource in Haldera than many other places. Quilted jerkins are the norm for armor, and the prices of weapons and metal armor can be as high as triple what they are in other lands. Understandably, this attracts mercantile ventures seeking to sell arms and armor at high prices.
• The thick clay-like ground necessitates much more irrigation and channeling than many other lands. This has led the Halderans to preserve the ancient Shushite technologies of irrigation canals and mills, assisted by the few dwarves in the region.