I harp on this a lot. I know it's the thing that I tend to talk about most. But I keep seeing signs of it in play, and I refuse to let a good opportunity for proselytizing go by unused. That is: the game with the most deadly challenges should be the one in which preparedness is the secret to success. Whether that preparedness is a good escape plan or a good attack plan or just a wealth of information so you can formulate the best ideas, the necessity of acquiring information is key. My players are becoming better and better at doing this.
The Hounds had decided to make an exploratory mission into the dangerous Troll Crags to the west of Tyrma along the Tyrman Peninsula. The Crags have swallowed innumerable ships in the history of Silversong and yet another recently went down there: the Iron Arrow, owned by the Free Captain Tuigalen, which was carrying some kind of ancient staff that he was very interested in. This particular Free Captain was willing to let the rest of his ship's cargo go to any party who recovered the staff and pay on top of that a five hundred sun premium for the return of said staff.
Additionally, Keir son of Erlend had spoken in detail with the exiled Master Smith Galdri Harnmr son of Egil, who had promised to fashion him magical weapons in the style of the ancient dwarvish art. He tasked Keir with retrieving certain specific items to allow him to craft these weapons. The first, drake's blood, was gained in great volume when the Hounds wiped out the pesky sea-drakes encamped near the lands of another Free Captain. The next was a fragment of troll bone. Seeing a chance to do two jobs at once, Keir convinced the company to take their clay pots of air-ignited drake's blood to go into the Crags and look for the staff.
The party did the wise thing: they hired a shitload of help. In addition to buying two wagonloads of tar and mules to carry it, they hired six drovers, a wizard's apprentice, a troll-hunting ranger, and a gnomish thief. Upon entering the Crags after wading through salt marshes and reedy hill-lands along the coast, the ranger Loronia went to work. This is where the information gathering began: because they had no natural scout of their own, they used Loronia to gain knowledge about what was ahead. Additionally, she acted as a sort of minor sage: having fought trolls before in the Low Marsh she could impart a number of insights about their behavior, the general size of troll nests, and how they regenerate (sea trolls requiring the moisture of the ocean, for example).
Her scouting turned up a pair of idiotic trolls waiting to ambush the party and she warned them in time. Instead, the party waited them out until they (the trolls) could wait no longer and rushed them, gibbering. They were easy work: a fireball from Naur ate through most of their hp before they clashed with the front line and were dispatched before they could do much damage. Loronia commanded them to burn the trolls at once (they were "still wet" and beginning to regenerate).
As they advanced into the Crags towards the sea, Loronia warned them of the spoor of a nest ahead. They paused: she reported that between five and ten trolls would be laired there. Myndil the Merry, the Heimiran monk, used the time to chat with his bird-friend Havuca (a goshawk enchanted by Animal Friendship with the use of a Speak with Animals) and sent him off to survey the situation. They learned of a "sea-house" which they figured was the Iron Arrow, mired in the shallows and filled with large eels capable of devouring a man. They also learned of "one, one, one" cave entrance and the various sizes and dispositions of these three "one" caverns.
This is where the game stopped, but I think anyone can look at this situation and realize that the party (average level 3 with some outliers—a few level 2s and 1s, a level 5, etc.) would have been easily torn apart if they had blindly wandered into the Crags and just stumbled into whatever groups of trolls there were around there. Instead, by playing carefully and making use of their resources to gather information, they have already had one successful engagement. They may now decide that the troll nest is too tough for them (a legitimate call) or they can use their still-unexpended tar and whatever other tricks they can muster, to defeat the trolls, recover the staff, and take whatever goods are on the Iron Arrow.
All of this was made possible by the combination of two clever plays that seem to be at a decline (or utterly missing) from non-OSR play. Namely: the acquisition of hirelings to supplement the party's base skills and the acquisition of information with which to make intelligent decisions. Flying by the seat of your pants can only get you so far, especially when you're likely to encounter such horrors as trolls.
Ruminations on fiction, roleplaying, and assorted irritants.
Showing posts with label Hounds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hounds. Show all posts
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
The Sage's Sanctuary: Silanoran, the City of Flowers
These pages have been penned by Soroviel the Scholar
In answer to your questions, I have prepared these pages. Within them shall ye find the histories of this ancient city and the legends of its fall. Included as well are the fortunes of the Murastirial house and the legendary Eferian Cloak as well as several of mine own theories regarding its present location and the theories of many scholars since the War of the Moon.
The Founding
The Fifth Age poet Saransiere gained great fame after reporting his sight of a star falling from the heavens. It struck the earth in the midst of the Arvoreen Meadows, many days journey north of that city. Saransiere claimed to have been seeking inspiration and of a night he looked up to see a great tail of fire streaking down from the Vault of the Sky. It gouged from the very earth a great lake, which subsequently filled with water. He dubbed the waters Sillamuravesi - the Moonstear Pool. Word of the wonder spread, for the star was still present in the low waters and many flocked to see it. It was not one of the bright stars valnaseren but rather isseseren or a dark star made of iron rather than pure crystalline minerals.
He built his own home there, and soon thereafter a temple of Senia was founded. Many pilgrims came to drink of the blessed heavenly waters, which were then associated with the Dish of the Moon. Tulians came as well, and a double-foundation was built upon the banks of the pool. The king in that age gave rulership of the city to Saransiere, naming his family Murastar - the tearful.
The Flowering Circle
The Murastirai loved Silanoran with great fierceness. As the Tywyn of the city, Saransiere's nephew Alascorin caused to be builded there the Flowering Circle. Some ways from the Valnatula river, amongst the great wide meadow of blossoming asphodel, goldenrod, and meadowsweet, there was constructed this great circle of the Silver Road. It brought many more pilgrims to Silanoran and eventually the kings of Arvorienna deigned to construct a summer palace there by the waters.
The Love of Anunia
The city was considered very holy for its double-temple, but more important to the Murastirial line was the worship of Anunia, the Lord of the Wind. They constructed many temples and monuments to the Wind Lord and oft there was poetry performed along the shore of the lake in his honor. The hosts of Silanoran marched beneath a triple banner of Senia, Tulia, and Anunia and they were known as the Varimornan hosts or the Armies of the Three Colors. These knights came to be protectors of Arvorienna and the lands south, and fought in several of the Arvoreen Wars against the Anarean folk as well as in the Wars of the Lance against the goblins.
Tulomor Murastar, Tywyn of the City in the year VI.337 and also Windspeaker of Anunia in that time, was given a great gift by the temple: the Eferian Cloak which was said to be woven of the fabric of the heavens itself.
The Cloak of Eferus
Imbued with the spirit of the West Wind, the Eferian Cloak has many and sundry powers associated with its use. Since no Vesimian document ever speaks of its recovery, I am forced to believe it lies within Silanoran still. Many scholars believe that the cloak was spirited from the city... but I do not believe this to be the case, elsewise it would have surfaced in the years since.
The Enätys Silanoranin Murastirai reads:
VII.37 -- The delegate from the Mount of the Winds outside of Aroviënna has gifted our lord, Tulomor, with a great aegis. It is called the Cloak of Eferus, and many mannish and elvish artisans labored to complete it. The mantle is of the finest blue brocaded with golden and orange thread from Meirienia. It has been laid about with many enchantments, and the Windseer promises that he who wears it shall never come to harm.
While the Festal of the Moon War furthermore says:
In the year 688 the royal family was utterly destroyed. The news came to the Tower of the Sun-Watchers by fateful messenger. Tyrmaa is a small settlement, so we received word later than everyone else. That has always been the way as long as I have dwelt there. King Morfínderon poisoned, Queen Luvoristen put to the sword… the Summer Palace attacked...
Silanoran itself, gem of the northern coast, was sacked only days afterwards. We heard of the cities' defense: the Murastirai with their bladedancers, the retreating highborn guard… but the Vesimian armies poured from the Flowering Circle like endless rain. Turoëlayn Murastiran was said to have personally accounted for some fifty Vesimän bladesmen, for he wore the mantle of Eferus.
Whether Turoëlayn escaped, we do not yet know, but there are many who claim the Murastirai hoards where sealed in their tombs against the invasion when the foes could no longer be held. I doubt that any but one of that family could open those crypts, so at least we need not worry about the Vesimän soldiery taking hold of their treasure-host and turning those weapons upon us.
Se Lange Silanorin contains the following passages:
All the southern meadows were afire. The Vesimän sotamnai burned everything upon emerging from the Asentanith Ympera (Flowering Circle) so that they could hold mastery over an empty landscape and not be attacked from the high grasses. They surrounded the Summer Palace and soon garrisoned it with their forces. For a week or more a brief and fierce war raged in the city between the ever-expanding sotamnai of the Vesimäns and the Murastirai in the city. At the forefront of the fighting was Turoëlayn Murastiran, clad in the Eferian Cloak and wielding the sword Valosbrén (Bright-silver).
The sotamnai overwhelmed his forces and scattered bones before the gates of his palace. Turoëlayn himself was lifted up onto the shoulders of the men and then thrust within his vault. They closed the door and the noranai took control. They heard his screams of indignation, but not a nouriso among them knew how to open his locks.Whether the Cloak was buried or hidden before the last Murastar, Turoëlayn, was imprisoned in his own vaults I cannot say. However, there is a scholar who lives within the city known as Alomyr who may know more of this matter, having studied it for many years from a position of relative safety.
The Fall
Silanoran was undone by the Flowering Circle, for it was through this entryway that the Vesimian forces attacked. There was a desperate stand at Saranor Tower, where the Varimornan Sotamnai destroyed the bridge that forded the Valnatulva. The foes camped in what was then the Old City, quartering in the city buildings. This became their foothold in Silversong for many years. Several strikes towards Arvorienna were turned aside only with the aid of the Green Wizards.
During this time the last few Murastirai founded the Silver Order and joined with the Green Wizards to harry the Vesimians. This caused great destruction near the Well of Sighs (the Battle of the Well) and at the head of the Calodymir Spur (the Battle of Calodymir Bridge). Nevertheless, Vesimian knights held the city for most of the war.
A further note: Queen Lurovisten, who despised her husband Morfínderon, spent most of her later years in the Summer Palace of Silanoran where she was eventually slain by assassins. It is said that the ruins of that place are avoided by all monstrous beasts of the wood, and for good reason.
The City Today
The Moonstear Lake has been sullied by some dark force; the once blessed waters are murky and filled with a strange filth. Reports of adventurers who have dared it speak of a dark shadow beneath the water that circles the mound of the star near its northern shore.
As for other beasts... orcs and kobolds as well as ogres have oft been seen in the southern parts of the city, particularly out on the Charred Mere where the Flowering Circle once stood. I have seen rumor of gnolls from the west having come to the region as well. From time to time Satyrs may emerge from the forest to do their worship at the Fount of Mirth where once they met frequently with the elves. Highmount, in the northwest, has been the traditional approach into the city since the Tellabryn River is fair water and clean (and its bridges have not been destroyed like those of the Calodymir and the Valnatulva) but I have seen reports of ankheg up along the ridge there.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Just what falls under the umbrella of Animal Friendship?
Animal Friendship(Enchantment/Charm)By means of this spell, the caster is able to show any animal of animal intelligence to semi-intelligence (i.e., Intelligence 1-4) that he desires friendship. If the animal does not roll a successful saving throw vs. spell immediately when the spell is begun, it stands quietly while the caster finishes the spell. Thereafter, it follows the caster about. The spell functions only if the caster actually wishes to be the animal's friend. If the caster has ulterior motives, the animal always senses them (for example, the caster intends to eat the animal, send it ahead to set off traps, etc.).The caster can teach the befriended animal three specific tricks or tasks for each point of Intelligence it possesses. Typical tasks are those taught to a dog or similar pet (i.e., they cannot be complex). Training for each such trick must be done over a period of one week, and all must be done within three months of acquiring the creature. During the three-month period, the animal will not harm the caster, but if the creature is left alone for more than a week, it will revert to its natural state and act accordingly.The caster can use this spell to attract up to 2 Hit Dice of animal(s) per experience level he possesses. This is also the maximum total Hit Dice of the animals that can be attracted and trained at one time: no more than twice the caster's experience level. Only unaligned animals can be attracted, befriended, and trained.The material components of this spell are the caster's holy symbol and a piece of food liked by the animal.
Sphere: Animal Range: 10 yds. Components: V, S, M Duration: Permanent Casting Time: 1 hr. Area of Effect: 1 animal Saving Throw: Neg.
This is an excerpt from the AD&D 2e PHB, namely the Animal Friendship spell. It's come up several times that the description of the spell doesn't specify what kinds of animals it affects (actually, it does: ANY animal). Sometimes in AD&D "animals" mean anything of a certain intelligence level. Sometimes it means any creature that naturally appear on Earth (including giant variations). Sometimes it means something more broad.
The question came up on saturday with the Hounds; should Heimir, the God of Hospitality, grant his priests a spell which could be used on drakes? The Hounds, after killing the drakes near Arodariath, took home a large clutch of eggs that were still alive. Warming one for several days over a slow fire, Myndil the Merry attempted to use this spell on the hatchling.
It failed. Why? The spell as written should function. Yet, Heimir canonically has no power over dragons or dragon-kin. Thus, while the spell might work on sylvan creatures or those whose domain is traditionally a household (even if they are magical in nature), it had no ability to affect the drakes.
My players agreed that this was a reasonable ruling. It's all part of that DIY, Build it Yourself, Customize it at your Table atmosphere.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Shooting Down the Competition
Ranged combat is a key element of D&D that a lot of people overlook. It can be used to great effect by PCs and NPC foemen alike. Particularly with the modifications that C&T gave to crossbows (ignoring various levels of armor, for example, and extending their damage to be more in line with actual crossbows rather than the very very poor damage represented by the PHB entry), you can do some real ugly things at long distance. Of course, this puts melee fighters at a great disadvantage, particularly in terrain with little to hide behind and high visibility. To illustrate my point, I'll set up the Hounds' latest activities and compare their ranged combat of a few nights ago with their melee combat.
Having been hired by one of the most famous Free Captains of Silversong, Telarmirithien, to rid his estate (granted to him by the Tower for services rendered to the king) of the sea-drakes that flew in from the Moonhome Sea last spring and began nesting in a large brood, the Hounds traveled south to Arodariath. The drakes were recumbent all winter, in a sort of hibernation, though the adventuring party known as the Branching Willow hunted and killed a good number of them while they were out gathering food, leaving much fewer for the Hounds to deal with.
Knowing that drake clutches hatch in the spring and can result in as many as 4 new drakes per female, the Hounds had to act quickly. Once the drakes hatch, their scholarly sources warned that the new drakes would spend a few months with their former brood, then they would all depart for new broodspace. These creatures could spread to the whole of the peninsula, becoming a general menace.
Exploring the drake's nest, they discovered that the rather large brood (somewhere around 25-30 drakes originally) had carved out a cave system in the gutrock of a hill they scorched and blasted with their flaming breath. These caves, now linked up by clever claw-work, had many openings to vent their heat, oxygenate their main cavern, and to allow them entry and exit at various points. Unable to rouse the drakes by throwing stones and singing songs, they paced the hill and waited until some emerged. A few hours later, two drakes appeared to go hunting... and that was when the aerial combat began.
Lacking a way to fly and match them, the party began a long range bombardment. More drakes answered the panicked and angry calls of the hunting pair, until a full seven were in the air and diving towards the PCs. Luckily, they were all a good distance away (they had chosen to sit 80 yards from the hill so they could fire at it in safety) and had to cross the open skies to reach the PCs. Even at the wing-tearing clip of 90 feet per round, a good many of the drakes never made it to the confrontation. Two were killed outright by missile fire and a third forced to flee. Two were badly wounded and landed only to be chewed up by the melee grinder known as Keir. Two others were utterly destroyed by Naur's newly invented spell (Ray of Air, some scrolling involved). This made a body count of 7.
After the ranged battle, the Hounds entered the hill... and were ambushed by the wounded drake and one final one that had waited to guard the eggs. They were scared and the PCs had heard them chirping and hissing even as they entered the great cave where the eggs where stored... but they had no idea that fire was about to wash over them from two directions.
The melee combat went very differently. In a matter of rounds, even with one drake blinded and the other dead, two party members were felled. A third looked like he was going to go down. Keir alone was still standing strong, with Naur in the back fretting over his expended magics. TWO DRAKES in melee combat (the ability to nearly continuously breath huge cones of flame really did them in) did what SEVEN DRAKES in ranged combat had been able to do: nearly destroy the party. Since drakes have no long ranged attacks, their ranged combat was a frantic scramble of trying to get close to the PCs and land. In close combat... well, it was a different story. Barely wounded from the ranged confrontation, the PCs were BADLY mauled by the melee combat.
Just goes to show you—use your capabilities wisely, and always, always, always, plan ahead and try to tilt the odds in your favor.
Having been hired by one of the most famous Free Captains of Silversong, Telarmirithien, to rid his estate (granted to him by the Tower for services rendered to the king) of the sea-drakes that flew in from the Moonhome Sea last spring and began nesting in a large brood, the Hounds traveled south to Arodariath. The drakes were recumbent all winter, in a sort of hibernation, though the adventuring party known as the Branching Willow hunted and killed a good number of them while they were out gathering food, leaving much fewer for the Hounds to deal with.
Knowing that drake clutches hatch in the spring and can result in as many as 4 new drakes per female, the Hounds had to act quickly. Once the drakes hatch, their scholarly sources warned that the new drakes would spend a few months with their former brood, then they would all depart for new broodspace. These creatures could spread to the whole of the peninsula, becoming a general menace.
Exploring the drake's nest, they discovered that the rather large brood (somewhere around 25-30 drakes originally) had carved out a cave system in the gutrock of a hill they scorched and blasted with their flaming breath. These caves, now linked up by clever claw-work, had many openings to vent their heat, oxygenate their main cavern, and to allow them entry and exit at various points. Unable to rouse the drakes by throwing stones and singing songs, they paced the hill and waited until some emerged. A few hours later, two drakes appeared to go hunting... and that was when the aerial combat began.
Lacking a way to fly and match them, the party began a long range bombardment. More drakes answered the panicked and angry calls of the hunting pair, until a full seven were in the air and diving towards the PCs. Luckily, they were all a good distance away (they had chosen to sit 80 yards from the hill so they could fire at it in safety) and had to cross the open skies to reach the PCs. Even at the wing-tearing clip of 90 feet per round, a good many of the drakes never made it to the confrontation. Two were killed outright by missile fire and a third forced to flee. Two were badly wounded and landed only to be chewed up by the melee grinder known as Keir. Two others were utterly destroyed by Naur's newly invented spell (Ray of Air, some scrolling involved). This made a body count of 7.
After the ranged battle, the Hounds entered the hill... and were ambushed by the wounded drake and one final one that had waited to guard the eggs. They were scared and the PCs had heard them chirping and hissing even as they entered the great cave where the eggs where stored... but they had no idea that fire was about to wash over them from two directions.
The melee combat went very differently. In a matter of rounds, even with one drake blinded and the other dead, two party members were felled. A third looked like he was going to go down. Keir alone was still standing strong, with Naur in the back fretting over his expended magics. TWO DRAKES in melee combat (the ability to nearly continuously breath huge cones of flame really did them in) did what SEVEN DRAKES in ranged combat had been able to do: nearly destroy the party. Since drakes have no long ranged attacks, their ranged combat was a frantic scramble of trying to get close to the PCs and land. In close combat... well, it was a different story. Barely wounded from the ranged confrontation, the PCs were BADLY mauled by the melee combat.
Just goes to show you—use your capabilities wisely, and always, always, always, plan ahead and try to tilt the odds in your favor.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Maps and things
Last night the Hounds explored the Tomb of Tyr Valaniera, an elvish knight and poet who died defending the northern shores of Silversong from the Great Refuser Occupation centuries ago. At the end of the session, I did one of my favorite things: uploaded a series of maps updated with the things they've learned since they arrived in area and purchased their first map.
More context about the session below the images. It's interesting to note that the detail on the Princely Demesne map is essentially only where the party has explored. The longer they remain in an area, the more dense their knowledge of it becomes.
As for the session... Tyr* Valaniera died centuries ago and was enshrined in a Talifernian crypt. His relics were prominently displayed for pilgrims to come and see, though they were enchanted in such a way as to prevent their easy removal from the tomb without the permission of the priests themselves. However, the shrine eventually fell into disrepair and was abandoned in the middle of Anundarien Tournisiel's reign.
During the occupation of the Ring Road outside Tyrma by goblins (which the Hounds destroyed), the tomb was invaded. The goblins failed to gain entrance, but managed to defile the pilgrimage shrine outside the walls and Talifer was mightily upset. In a move that would both bolster his temple in Tyrma as well as restore honor to the tomb, he inspired a mad priest to begin preaching about the necessity of piercing the old wards and seals and retrieve the artifacts.
The Hounds did just this, bringing the very body of Tyr Valaniera to Tyrma where it is now lodged in the Talifernian shrine there.
*the title "Tyr" denotes a knightly or higher rank. It is the equivalent of the english "Sir" or the Varan "Sieur." Hereditary lords generally are not referred to as "Tyr" but rather "Tywyn" and "Tywynne" (Tih-yoon and Tih-yoonah) while knights appointed as magistrates (or perhaps particularly humble lords) are styled as "Tyr." This use is particularly common amongst those who have just joined the nobility. An example is Tyr Findas of Sirinon—nominally the city's lord, his father was a shipwright who was appointed (for his skill at management as well as at crafting and designing beautiful ships for the royal fleet and the Free Captains) the Lord of Sirinon. Findas' own children would likely adopt the Tywyn style if they maintained the holding.
More context about the session below the images. It's interesting to note that the detail on the Princely Demesne map is essentially only where the party has explored. The longer they remain in an area, the more dense their knowledge of it becomes.
 |
| The capital city of Tyrma |
 |
| The Royal or Princely Demesne of Silversong |
During the occupation of the Ring Road outside Tyrma by goblins (which the Hounds destroyed), the tomb was invaded. The goblins failed to gain entrance, but managed to defile the pilgrimage shrine outside the walls and Talifer was mightily upset. In a move that would both bolster his temple in Tyrma as well as restore honor to the tomb, he inspired a mad priest to begin preaching about the necessity of piercing the old wards and seals and retrieve the artifacts.
The Hounds did just this, bringing the very body of Tyr Valaniera to Tyrma where it is now lodged in the Talifernian shrine there.
*the title "Tyr" denotes a knightly or higher rank. It is the equivalent of the english "Sir" or the Varan "Sieur." Hereditary lords generally are not referred to as "Tyr" but rather "Tywyn" and "Tywynne" (Tih-yoon and Tih-yoonah) while knights appointed as magistrates (or perhaps particularly humble lords) are styled as "Tyr." This use is particularly common amongst those who have just joined the nobility. An example is Tyr Findas of Sirinon—nominally the city's lord, his father was a shipwright who was appointed (for his skill at management as well as at crafting and designing beautiful ships for the royal fleet and the Free Captains) the Lord of Sirinon. Findas' own children would likely adopt the Tywyn style if they maintained the holding.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
"Social Levels"
Vagr Blackstone, the frontman for the Temple of the Shadow Triad, is dead. He was murdered by the Hounds the other night in one of those plans that broke down the instant an enemy touched it. With him, now dead, was Braggi Biletooth, the Valelan (secretly a skinchanger) who organized and deployed most of the cities' muscle in its lower circles. This is both a good thing and a bad thing for Tyrma—on the one hand, the Temple of the Triad has been at least temporarily weakened now that its spokesman to the smuggling community is dead. The same goes for anyone who employed Braggi to give them thugs and elvish enforcers: he's gone, and it will be a while before anyone steps in to take his place.
Of course, it could mean bad things too. All those poor elves with no other means of income who have been maimed on long sea voyages or were called in up for the militia to fight goblins and now have no homes, those guys? They're the thugs Braggi usually hires now. They're all free agents now. Confusion will rule the Tyrman underworld for a while as things get sorted out. Keir has already made some plans to take advantage of this; after all, what better time to strike at the diseased underbelly of the elvish capital than while it is mired in internal strife? This is what Cain (and the US Army) would refer to as Violence of Action, though Keir describes it as "striking the iron while it is hot."
But I want to talk about something else that resulted from this combat. A comment made by Frank afterwards is the heart of this discussion. He said to me, "I feel like I've gained a level." Not a physical level wherein you get a discreet allotment of hp and THAC0 adjustment, but a social level wherein the party itself has become a much more powerful entity in local politics. This is one of the great things about D&D after level 3.
Other games codify this social standing. It can be easier to have a handy number. L5R does it with Honor, Feudal Anarchy has a social rank number, and I believe Hârn does it too. D&D does not, leaving the power of your social advantage to remain unquantified before your eyes. This is, of course, more like life; can you trust your new allies? Just how strong is your new position? But it nevertheless serves an immensely important role in the game.
Going up in "social levels" means that you are more integrated into your surroundings. It means you have a network of allies, enemies, contacts, and those potential-contacts that are now closed to you because of your choices. The social bonds begin to wrap around your characters and it is deathly hard to shake those off without just abandoning the whole location. You are known. On the most basic level, this means adventures can start coming to you rather than you going to them. People will seek you out to hire—and to kill.
This is the beginning of the big boy stage where you aren't quite a landowner or lawmaker, but you certainly aren't walking uphill both ways to the dungeon with no shoes or hose and a 500 lb. backpack. You're a wizard now, Harry, and people are going to start treating you like one. Buckle on your sword but remember that you may be used by forces you don't understand or know yet. Keep a weather eye out and start cultivating a mythos about yourself—when people think you're unkillable, it makes them less likely to try.
Get ready for the ride of your life, you poor sorry fool, for now you are enmeshed in the world of the nobleman and they have no mercy or scruples when it comes to what they want. This is the middle game.
Of course, it could mean bad things too. All those poor elves with no other means of income who have been maimed on long sea voyages or were called in up for the militia to fight goblins and now have no homes, those guys? They're the thugs Braggi usually hires now. They're all free agents now. Confusion will rule the Tyrman underworld for a while as things get sorted out. Keir has already made some plans to take advantage of this; after all, what better time to strike at the diseased underbelly of the elvish capital than while it is mired in internal strife? This is what Cain (and the US Army) would refer to as Violence of Action, though Keir describes it as "striking the iron while it is hot."
But I want to talk about something else that resulted from this combat. A comment made by Frank afterwards is the heart of this discussion. He said to me, "I feel like I've gained a level." Not a physical level wherein you get a discreet allotment of hp and THAC0 adjustment, but a social level wherein the party itself has become a much more powerful entity in local politics. This is one of the great things about D&D after level 3.
Other games codify this social standing. It can be easier to have a handy number. L5R does it with Honor, Feudal Anarchy has a social rank number, and I believe Hârn does it too. D&D does not, leaving the power of your social advantage to remain unquantified before your eyes. This is, of course, more like life; can you trust your new allies? Just how strong is your new position? But it nevertheless serves an immensely important role in the game.
Going up in "social levels" means that you are more integrated into your surroundings. It means you have a network of allies, enemies, contacts, and those potential-contacts that are now closed to you because of your choices. The social bonds begin to wrap around your characters and it is deathly hard to shake those off without just abandoning the whole location. You are known. On the most basic level, this means adventures can start coming to you rather than you going to them. People will seek you out to hire—and to kill.
This is the beginning of the big boy stage where you aren't quite a landowner or lawmaker, but you certainly aren't walking uphill both ways to the dungeon with no shoes or hose and a 500 lb. backpack. You're a wizard now, Harry, and people are going to start treating you like one. Buckle on your sword but remember that you may be used by forces you don't understand or know yet. Keep a weather eye out and start cultivating a mythos about yourself—when people think you're unkillable, it makes them less likely to try.
Get ready for the ride of your life, you poor sorry fool, for now you are enmeshed in the world of the nobleman and they have no mercy or scruples when it comes to what they want. This is the middle game.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Super Ghouls 'n Ghasts
On tuesday night the Hounds confronted a number of ghouls in the Eastern Wood of Tyrma. They were hired by the gruff dwarf Vagr Blackstone, the dockside representative of the Shadow Temple in the city. The ecumenical elvish priests of the Shadow had slain a mannish adventurer and his companions in the wood; they had been getting too close to the temple's activities. However, his horrific corpse had been wandering around and devouring travelers in the Wood.
They've been planning to kill Blackstone in order to protect the master smith Galdri Harnmr (who has a bounty on his head from the Arinnfal for, long ago, sleeping with the sister of a prince without his permission). It was a general decision that they would take care of the undead for Vagr in order to gain his trust and then murder him when the time was appropriate.
The relevant information here, though, is that they had decided to go after the undead and formulated a plan to deal with them. They knew that Tareus the Wanderer (the adventurer who was slain) and his companions had appeared in embodied form, so they could nary be any kind of specter. Furthermore, Vagr revealed that though they seemed to be stupified, Tareus would become enraged whenever a member of the Shadow Temple was within his eyesight, and that would drive him onward in a frenzy.
This led them to hypothesize that they were dealing not with zombies or revenants, but with the spawn of Kypselus: ghouls and ghasts. Myndil the Merry, knowing that he could protect the party with spells that would keep them at bay, went to the Temple of Noronia to ask if there was a way to increase that protection to extend to ghasts. Discovering that iron filings would do the trick, he purchased some from Galdri's Hammersong Forge and they went to their task.
They had decided to use the protection to shoot crossbow bolts and throw knives at the creatures and, after Myndil spoke with animals to have a chipmunk lead them to the grove where Tareus lurked in exchange for a few acorns and nuts, they enacted their protection spells. Now, in our games each combat round takes 15 seconds... but spells last a number of minutes. Thus, the 9 minutes of his protection spell were instead 36 combat rounds and availed them well. In that time they dispatched seven of the ghouls and two ghasts.
Some of Tareus' clan had skittered off during the fight, realizing their attempts to strike the Hounds were hopeless. Here is where the story gets interesting. The Hounds set off to look for them, and their protection spells silently wore off. When they found the three ghouls that had escaped, the creatures nearly killed the entire party.
Let's count that up again: preparedness? 7 ghouls, 2 ghasts. Unprepared? Nearly dead at the hands of 3 ghouls.
That is theory in action, gentlemen.
They've been planning to kill Blackstone in order to protect the master smith Galdri Harnmr (who has a bounty on his head from the Arinnfal for, long ago, sleeping with the sister of a prince without his permission). It was a general decision that they would take care of the undead for Vagr in order to gain his trust and then murder him when the time was appropriate.
The relevant information here, though, is that they had decided to go after the undead and formulated a plan to deal with them. They knew that Tareus the Wanderer (the adventurer who was slain) and his companions had appeared in embodied form, so they could nary be any kind of specter. Furthermore, Vagr revealed that though they seemed to be stupified, Tareus would become enraged whenever a member of the Shadow Temple was within his eyesight, and that would drive him onward in a frenzy.
This led them to hypothesize that they were dealing not with zombies or revenants, but with the spawn of Kypselus: ghouls and ghasts. Myndil the Merry, knowing that he could protect the party with spells that would keep them at bay, went to the Temple of Noronia to ask if there was a way to increase that protection to extend to ghasts. Discovering that iron filings would do the trick, he purchased some from Galdri's Hammersong Forge and they went to their task.
They had decided to use the protection to shoot crossbow bolts and throw knives at the creatures and, after Myndil spoke with animals to have a chipmunk lead them to the grove where Tareus lurked in exchange for a few acorns and nuts, they enacted their protection spells. Now, in our games each combat round takes 15 seconds... but spells last a number of minutes. Thus, the 9 minutes of his protection spell were instead 36 combat rounds and availed them well. In that time they dispatched seven of the ghouls and two ghasts.
Some of Tareus' clan had skittered off during the fight, realizing their attempts to strike the Hounds were hopeless. Here is where the story gets interesting. The Hounds set off to look for them, and their protection spells silently wore off. When they found the three ghouls that had escaped, the creatures nearly killed the entire party.
Let's count that up again: preparedness? 7 ghouls, 2 ghasts. Unprepared? Nearly dead at the hands of 3 ghouls.
That is theory in action, gentlemen.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Play Report: A Party Unacquainted With Defeat
The Hounds have pulled through, though they really aren't the Hounds anymore. The last original member being dead, it's likely that they'll change their name and draw up a real contract. It seems that Keir is in the driver's seat, at least as far as quartermastery is concerned.
The remaining Hounds, knowing they'd been scouted, rearranged their positions even as the flashing lights in the distance told of Oloz's death. Cain, Adriana, and Naur took up places in the false camp while Naur created a series of illusions of themselves standing on the hill opposite between the trees. Braggi Biletooth's elves (and two dwarves) were positioned up there as well, amongst the pines, ready to catch any attempt the Scourge made to go around and come from a different angle. The Shadow Priest was amongst their number. Keir lay in wait by a turn in the road, concealed behind a tree and some scrub.
When the foe finally appeared, it was the main force of the party along the roadway and the elves-at-arms clambering over the crest of the southern hill, coming for the campsite (where the Shadow Priest had been earlier). Salainen waved a dispel magic over the camp upon seeing doubles of several people in the hills—this scared Naur and prompted him to activate the magic ring his master had given him, putting him under the effect of a blink spell. When the figures at the camp remained firmly solid, Salainen cautioned the elves-at-arms not to move.
As he prepared a fireball, Naur countered with a rapid magic missile, interrupting the High Wizard. By that time, Cain had already run all the way across the road and into the trees on the far side, anticipating a roasty toasty death. Adriana called upon the vines, the roots, and the grasses on the hillside to pin the elves-at-arms in place, freezing their descent.
Salainen had finally had enough, ordering his party to charge. They went wheeling round the first bend even as Naur beat it for the hill, trying to get away. Cain fired at the wizard from his new position on the high ground, even as the wizard protected himself with some unseen magic. The bolt missed him and Naur's follow-up magic missiles vanished as they approached within a foot of the wizard.
Now Cain called his men to charge, and they came barreling out of the trees. Braggi, worried about the state of the battle, revealed himself at last: a skin-changer from the northerly kingdom of Leukerio, his body warped and shifted as he waded into the fray. The melee grew thick and dangerous, and Keir crept closer to the mage even as he prepared his next magics. Cain struck him in the breast with a crossbow bolt that dissipated another spell, but Salainen managed to summon forth a wall of ice from the roadway. Shedding snow and freezing air, it shot up between them, cutting the crossbowman off from the wizard.
Keir rushed him, drinking the last of Tomasso's potion of protection. The few elves-at-arms with the mage could not stop his charge, so potent was the stuff. He stopped the wizard mid-chant even as green lights flickered into being around him and evil ghoul-green vapors swirled around his robes. The wizard's thigh was parted with the blow, blood gushing in hot spurts. He fell, clutching Cain.
Adriana was meanwhile taken in the back by a sneaking Varan-looking fellow with a brilliant silver blade. She turned to fight him, but he leapt onto her and stabbed her again, downing her. Nothing more was seen of him after that: he must have seen the tide of the battle turning.
The fray between Braggi and the Scourge grew even more dangerous when the Shadow Priest threw crackling black fire over the lot, indiscriminately burning Scourgemen and killing Braggi's elves. Only the swordsman al-Saif neglected to extinguish himself, instead drinking a potion of his own and, still crackling with black fire, hacking through Braggi's thugs with aplomb.
Naur managed to blind one of the Scourge with a spell while the Shadow Priest held al-Saif and the elven thief Findal. The other two surrendered; Keir dispatched the blind elf with a workmanlike throat-slice, while Coroman the Weyl tried to escape only to be gutted by one of the last remaining thugs. The Shadow Priest himself killed Findal by walking up to him and nicking open an artery in his neck. He stood and watched al-Saif continue to burn, pinned in place by magic and surrounded with consuming black flames.
Gathering up the loot and allowing the priest to ritually strip and stack the foe, the Hounds made cairns for the elves they hired. As the sun set and the light snow continued to fall, Braggi and his boys made their way back to Tyrma and the Hounds slogged on to Ardina and the Silver Cymbal. They put up there for the night, the bodies of Adriana and Oloz covered in canvas and left in the stables for future return to the Temples of Meri and Anunia.
The remaining Hounds, knowing they'd been scouted, rearranged their positions even as the flashing lights in the distance told of Oloz's death. Cain, Adriana, and Naur took up places in the false camp while Naur created a series of illusions of themselves standing on the hill opposite between the trees. Braggi Biletooth's elves (and two dwarves) were positioned up there as well, amongst the pines, ready to catch any attempt the Scourge made to go around and come from a different angle. The Shadow Priest was amongst their number. Keir lay in wait by a turn in the road, concealed behind a tree and some scrub.
When the foe finally appeared, it was the main force of the party along the roadway and the elves-at-arms clambering over the crest of the southern hill, coming for the campsite (where the Shadow Priest had been earlier). Salainen waved a dispel magic over the camp upon seeing doubles of several people in the hills—this scared Naur and prompted him to activate the magic ring his master had given him, putting him under the effect of a blink spell. When the figures at the camp remained firmly solid, Salainen cautioned the elves-at-arms not to move.
As he prepared a fireball, Naur countered with a rapid magic missile, interrupting the High Wizard. By that time, Cain had already run all the way across the road and into the trees on the far side, anticipating a roasty toasty death. Adriana called upon the vines, the roots, and the grasses on the hillside to pin the elves-at-arms in place, freezing their descent.
Salainen had finally had enough, ordering his party to charge. They went wheeling round the first bend even as Naur beat it for the hill, trying to get away. Cain fired at the wizard from his new position on the high ground, even as the wizard protected himself with some unseen magic. The bolt missed him and Naur's follow-up magic missiles vanished as they approached within a foot of the wizard.
Now Cain called his men to charge, and they came barreling out of the trees. Braggi, worried about the state of the battle, revealed himself at last: a skin-changer from the northerly kingdom of Leukerio, his body warped and shifted as he waded into the fray. The melee grew thick and dangerous, and Keir crept closer to the mage even as he prepared his next magics. Cain struck him in the breast with a crossbow bolt that dissipated another spell, but Salainen managed to summon forth a wall of ice from the roadway. Shedding snow and freezing air, it shot up between them, cutting the crossbowman off from the wizard.
Keir rushed him, drinking the last of Tomasso's potion of protection. The few elves-at-arms with the mage could not stop his charge, so potent was the stuff. He stopped the wizard mid-chant even as green lights flickered into being around him and evil ghoul-green vapors swirled around his robes. The wizard's thigh was parted with the blow, blood gushing in hot spurts. He fell, clutching Cain.
Adriana was meanwhile taken in the back by a sneaking Varan-looking fellow with a brilliant silver blade. She turned to fight him, but he leapt onto her and stabbed her again, downing her. Nothing more was seen of him after that: he must have seen the tide of the battle turning.
The fray between Braggi and the Scourge grew even more dangerous when the Shadow Priest threw crackling black fire over the lot, indiscriminately burning Scourgemen and killing Braggi's elves. Only the swordsman al-Saif neglected to extinguish himself, instead drinking a potion of his own and, still crackling with black fire, hacking through Braggi's thugs with aplomb.
Naur managed to blind one of the Scourge with a spell while the Shadow Priest held al-Saif and the elven thief Findal. The other two surrendered; Keir dispatched the blind elf with a workmanlike throat-slice, while Coroman the Weyl tried to escape only to be gutted by one of the last remaining thugs. The Shadow Priest himself killed Findal by walking up to him and nicking open an artery in his neck. He stood and watched al-Saif continue to burn, pinned in place by magic and surrounded with consuming black flames.
Gathering up the loot and allowing the priest to ritually strip and stack the foe, the Hounds made cairns for the elves they hired. As the sun set and the light snow continued to fall, Braggi and his boys made their way back to Tyrma and the Hounds slogged on to Ardina and the Silver Cymbal. They put up there for the night, the bodies of Adriana and Oloz covered in canvas and left in the stables for future return to the Temples of Meri and Anunia.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Play Report: The Death of Oloz and the Lone Wolf
In the latest session of the Hounds that was played piecemeal on Thursday and Friday of last week the inestimable half-orc turned satyr Oloz was slain. As this was his second death, there was no hope of revival. Akem had himself personally made a bargain with Aros to allow the half-orc slaver a chance to redeem himself in the Middle World. Oloz managed to do that and more, but he has met the final death for any spirit of the land: he has become one with the forest. The fragment of his soul which was mortal now resides in the Gardens of the Wind alongside his friend Crispus. They have been there reunited.
What happened to Oloz? He fell victim to his overzealous scouting, in the end, convinced that he alone could solve a problem that beset the Hounds. Danny played the satyr to the fullest extent of his middling-to-low wisdom; he was a charge-in kind of guy. It didn't help that he was extremely well endowed stastically. First as a half-orc, he had an 18/90 strength and then even on his reincarnation he pulled out an 18/70. He watched firsthand as he slew opponents that many would have classed as far too dangerous... and this time they would have been right.
The Hounds (and back when they were the Dogs) have never respected the idea of their own mortality. They did battle with an Ashadi bone weird at level 3, an elvish wraith at levels 3-4, and now an extremely dangerous foeparty. Each time they were put in grave danger and risked losing everything. The rewards were always great when they won. Invariably, they found themselves going over the level hump and either attaining or nearly attaining a new level. They have a fondness for overreaching.
Oloz was alone, cut off from the party, as he scouted out the location of the Scourge (the foeparty) following along behind. They had planned to ambush their enemies and catch them unawares, hopefully to counterbalance the clear difference between scale in party strength. They knew, or had been told, that the leader of the Scourge was an elven wizard called Salainen who was powerful enough to cast spells of High Sorcery. In Arunia, any wizard spell of level 5+ is known as High (or True) Sorcery while any spell below is Low (or Petty) Sorcery. This warned our mixed group of levels 3-4 that their enemy was a wizard of at least level 9, what would once have been Name Level if we didn't play 2e. This alone was enough to give them pause.
The Hounds gathered a number of thugs from the elvish city of Tyrma where they were living and sent them out ahead of the enemy. The main party hung back while these ambushers prepared themselves to shadow the Hounds; the Hounds themselves left through the Moon Gate and began down the southward road. Once they realized that the Scourge weren't hot on their heels, the ambushers came down from the hills and they changed their plans.
The goal of the Hounds and Scourge both is a tome called the Book of Dreaming (Teos Salunelma), an ancient elvish manuscript from before the Elf-Dragon Wars. The two wizard-factions of Silversong (there are others, but these are the biggest and most powerful) both want to get their hands on it. The Green Wizards are vigorous supporters of Anundarien Tournisiel, the king. In their long history they had once ruled Silversong, but ceded that power back to the reinstated line of the kings after the Wars of the Moon. The Silver Wizards are a lesser cabal in sheer magical might and numbers but more than make up for this lack in elf-silver and gold. They care little about the political rivalries of the Towerborn King and are simply interested in humiliating their intellectual enemies.
Nauraanen, Steve's elvish wizard, was trained by one of the Silver Magi. Indeed, coming to Tyrma has been a sort of homecoming for him. He has reunited with his master, Tholindinar the Wise, and discovered that old Tholindinar has attained the rank of High Master of the Order and now sits alongside the other four leading wizards of the Silver Order. However, he is on the outs with the current council, particularly its leader the sorceress Alodoriala. To make a long story short (too late!), the Hounds now act as Tholindinar's proxy to retrieve this book from the merchant who discovered it before the Green Wizards can.
Of course, there's more to it than that. Alodoriala had the Hounds brought before the Five High Masters and interrogated them while probing their minds with spells. She discovered their true intentions, which were to win the contract from the Silver Wizards in preference to the Scourge of Six, whom another of the Five believes are a dangerous enough party that even nominating them as the Silver Mages proxy would cause ruinous strife in the city. Alodoriala, breaking the dwarf Keir with her magic, has seen their plot: the hiring of the mannish mercenary Braggi Biletooth, a number of elvish and dwarvish thugs, and a dark Shadow Priest to counter any move the Scourge might make - wether the Hounds win the contract or not.
Mysteriously, Alodoriala awarded them the contract right then and there. That was when Cain, Braggi, and the mercenaries left through the Moon Gate.
They anticipated the Scourge would follow them. Once the ambushers and the main party met up on the road, one of the hired swords they left as lookout lit a smoky campfire some rods off as a signal. The Scourge was coming.
Oloz, being attuned to the wood as a reincarnated spirit of nature, crept off to espy them in secret and surveil their intentions. When he arrived there was no sign of Salainen, though he measured each other member of the Scourge as well as their twelve elves-at-arms. He waited a while until he overheard enough to understand what was happening: Salainen was moving ahead to scout the road while the others waited. Oloz ran rapidly to the false camp at the ambush point and informed Keir and Cain of the wizard's presence.
Seeing there was still time, he ran back once more to watch the Scourge. The return of Salainen was heralded by a disembodied voice speaking in elvish and then the dissemination of orders: Salainen would go ahead first, invisible, and the others would wait a preordained amount of time to follow him. Oloz hared off after the faint and growing fainter sounds of feet on earth and the thump of a staff.
Salainen grew quieter as the Scourge fell behind. A light snow began to fall. That was when Oloz used the falling of the flakes to estimate the mage's position and struck with his whip—or tried to. He was far enough off to give Salainen warning and a desperate battle of knife against spell began. Salainen's defensive magic (mirror image) was enough to deceive and misdirect Oloz for long enough to be battered down by a barrage of magic missiles, drained by a vampiric touch, and finally rendered unconscious by a color spray.
So, the next session begins: the ambushers have seen the flashing lights off in the north-west. Oloz lies dead, cut by Salainen's knife. The wizard's invisibility has been expended, as have a number of spells... and the Scourge comes.
The lone wolf play style is dangerous, particularly in D&D. The strengths of a party help balance out the individual weaknesses of each character. Bad rolls can spell the quick degradation of any character's fighting potential but, thanks to the law of large numbers, are far less likely to do so over many characters. One character caught against a horrific foe stands very little chance to recover from a bad roll; a party entire, which has many working pieces that help bolster, reverse, and shore up, stands a much better chance.
This is something built into the game itself. Intra-party balance is always what has been important in old school D&D, rather than party-encounter balance. It's true that MMOs have taken a lot from D&D, one of the primary things being the (rather simplistic) breakdown into DPS/tank/healer. Of course, anyone who's played D&D for any length of time knows that a mage is far more than the "glass cannon" of WoW. Indeed, the very experience Oloz had against Salainen is indicative of this. With low close-combat capabilities and very few mundane defenses, he nevertheless took no lasting harm from Oloz, a dual-classed 3/4 fighter/thief with exceptional strength.
Still, the point stands. A friendly wizard to fuck with Salainen, a second or third warrior to help hack through his mirror images, or even the Shadow Priest to do... whatever it is that the Shadow Priest intends to do (the players read this blog, can't go giving everything away).
Thus ends Oloz, and with him his lone-wolf style of scout-and-fight. We may pray to the gods above for the better ends to each of the other Hounds as they await their deaths at the hands of Salainen and his Scourge.
What happened to Oloz? He fell victim to his overzealous scouting, in the end, convinced that he alone could solve a problem that beset the Hounds. Danny played the satyr to the fullest extent of his middling-to-low wisdom; he was a charge-in kind of guy. It didn't help that he was extremely well endowed stastically. First as a half-orc, he had an 18/90 strength and then even on his reincarnation he pulled out an 18/70. He watched firsthand as he slew opponents that many would have classed as far too dangerous... and this time they would have been right.
The Hounds (and back when they were the Dogs) have never respected the idea of their own mortality. They did battle with an Ashadi bone weird at level 3, an elvish wraith at levels 3-4, and now an extremely dangerous foeparty. Each time they were put in grave danger and risked losing everything. The rewards were always great when they won. Invariably, they found themselves going over the level hump and either attaining or nearly attaining a new level. They have a fondness for overreaching.
Oloz was alone, cut off from the party, as he scouted out the location of the Scourge (the foeparty) following along behind. They had planned to ambush their enemies and catch them unawares, hopefully to counterbalance the clear difference between scale in party strength. They knew, or had been told, that the leader of the Scourge was an elven wizard called Salainen who was powerful enough to cast spells of High Sorcery. In Arunia, any wizard spell of level 5+ is known as High (or True) Sorcery while any spell below is Low (or Petty) Sorcery. This warned our mixed group of levels 3-4 that their enemy was a wizard of at least level 9, what would once have been Name Level if we didn't play 2e. This alone was enough to give them pause.
The Hounds gathered a number of thugs from the elvish city of Tyrma where they were living and sent them out ahead of the enemy. The main party hung back while these ambushers prepared themselves to shadow the Hounds; the Hounds themselves left through the Moon Gate and began down the southward road. Once they realized that the Scourge weren't hot on their heels, the ambushers came down from the hills and they changed their plans.
The goal of the Hounds and Scourge both is a tome called the Book of Dreaming (Teos Salunelma), an ancient elvish manuscript from before the Elf-Dragon Wars. The two wizard-factions of Silversong (there are others, but these are the biggest and most powerful) both want to get their hands on it. The Green Wizards are vigorous supporters of Anundarien Tournisiel, the king. In their long history they had once ruled Silversong, but ceded that power back to the reinstated line of the kings after the Wars of the Moon. The Silver Wizards are a lesser cabal in sheer magical might and numbers but more than make up for this lack in elf-silver and gold. They care little about the political rivalries of the Towerborn King and are simply interested in humiliating their intellectual enemies.
Nauraanen, Steve's elvish wizard, was trained by one of the Silver Magi. Indeed, coming to Tyrma has been a sort of homecoming for him. He has reunited with his master, Tholindinar the Wise, and discovered that old Tholindinar has attained the rank of High Master of the Order and now sits alongside the other four leading wizards of the Silver Order. However, he is on the outs with the current council, particularly its leader the sorceress Alodoriala. To make a long story short (too late!), the Hounds now act as Tholindinar's proxy to retrieve this book from the merchant who discovered it before the Green Wizards can.
Of course, there's more to it than that. Alodoriala had the Hounds brought before the Five High Masters and interrogated them while probing their minds with spells. She discovered their true intentions, which were to win the contract from the Silver Wizards in preference to the Scourge of Six, whom another of the Five believes are a dangerous enough party that even nominating them as the Silver Mages proxy would cause ruinous strife in the city. Alodoriala, breaking the dwarf Keir with her magic, has seen their plot: the hiring of the mannish mercenary Braggi Biletooth, a number of elvish and dwarvish thugs, and a dark Shadow Priest to counter any move the Scourge might make - wether the Hounds win the contract or not.
Mysteriously, Alodoriala awarded them the contract right then and there. That was when Cain, Braggi, and the mercenaries left through the Moon Gate.
They anticipated the Scourge would follow them. Once the ambushers and the main party met up on the road, one of the hired swords they left as lookout lit a smoky campfire some rods off as a signal. The Scourge was coming.
Oloz, being attuned to the wood as a reincarnated spirit of nature, crept off to espy them in secret and surveil their intentions. When he arrived there was no sign of Salainen, though he measured each other member of the Scourge as well as their twelve elves-at-arms. He waited a while until he overheard enough to understand what was happening: Salainen was moving ahead to scout the road while the others waited. Oloz ran rapidly to the false camp at the ambush point and informed Keir and Cain of the wizard's presence.
Seeing there was still time, he ran back once more to watch the Scourge. The return of Salainen was heralded by a disembodied voice speaking in elvish and then the dissemination of orders: Salainen would go ahead first, invisible, and the others would wait a preordained amount of time to follow him. Oloz hared off after the faint and growing fainter sounds of feet on earth and the thump of a staff.
Salainen grew quieter as the Scourge fell behind. A light snow began to fall. That was when Oloz used the falling of the flakes to estimate the mage's position and struck with his whip—or tried to. He was far enough off to give Salainen warning and a desperate battle of knife against spell began. Salainen's defensive magic (mirror image) was enough to deceive and misdirect Oloz for long enough to be battered down by a barrage of magic missiles, drained by a vampiric touch, and finally rendered unconscious by a color spray.
So, the next session begins: the ambushers have seen the flashing lights off in the north-west. Oloz lies dead, cut by Salainen's knife. The wizard's invisibility has been expended, as have a number of spells... and the Scourge comes.
The lone wolf play style is dangerous, particularly in D&D. The strengths of a party help balance out the individual weaknesses of each character. Bad rolls can spell the quick degradation of any character's fighting potential but, thanks to the law of large numbers, are far less likely to do so over many characters. One character caught against a horrific foe stands very little chance to recover from a bad roll; a party entire, which has many working pieces that help bolster, reverse, and shore up, stands a much better chance.
This is something built into the game itself. Intra-party balance is always what has been important in old school D&D, rather than party-encounter balance. It's true that MMOs have taken a lot from D&D, one of the primary things being the (rather simplistic) breakdown into DPS/tank/healer. Of course, anyone who's played D&D for any length of time knows that a mage is far more than the "glass cannon" of WoW. Indeed, the very experience Oloz had against Salainen is indicative of this. With low close-combat capabilities and very few mundane defenses, he nevertheless took no lasting harm from Oloz, a dual-classed 3/4 fighter/thief with exceptional strength.
Still, the point stands. A friendly wizard to fuck with Salainen, a second or third warrior to help hack through his mirror images, or even the Shadow Priest to do... whatever it is that the Shadow Priest intends to do (the players read this blog, can't go giving everything away).
Thus ends Oloz, and with him his lone-wolf style of scout-and-fight. We may pray to the gods above for the better ends to each of the other Hounds as they await their deaths at the hands of Salainen and his Scourge.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Forewarned is Forearmed
After many lengthy discussions on why information-gathering is such an important skill (both with my players and here, on the Mug) I am happy to report that the Hounds of Aros did just that last night. While it took a long time and was not a coup by any means, they all feel more secure for the what they've learned.
To be succinct: Naur's master, Tholindinar, sits on the Council of the Silver Wizards. He is on the outs (for reasons they have yet to uncover) with his fellows, but he appears to be one of the more moderate members of the Silver Order, content to study magic and sneer at the Green Wizards (who are an active political player in support the Towerborn King) from afar.
The most powerful voice on the Council, a sorceress named Alodoriala, is his chief rival. She is openly antagonistic to the Green Wizards of the Tower, something that he sees as unnecessary and possibly dangerous. The catalyzing event is the discovery of an ancient elvish tome, The Book of Dreaming Secrets, replete with magic from the Fourth Age. Possession of this book would be a coup for either organization and it just so happens to have come into the hands of a wealthy merchantess in a nearby port town. Tholindinar hopes that his 'prentice and the Hounds can beat out an unpleasantly named adventuring company (the Scourge of Six) for the contract to go buy it and do so before the Green Wizard's own proxy company does the same. This will boost his standing in the Council, to be able to say it was his apprentice who retrieved the book.
Here's what the Hounds discovered last night:
Tholindinar is a double-edged sword; he may allow Naur to get into the Silver Manse, but mention of his name tends to be polarizing to the other Silver Wizards.
The Silver Wizards assume the contract is well in hand already and that the Council has decided on the Scourge.
Naur has planted the seems of his own companies' hiring in the mind of the Undermaster Velhandar and also hinted that he might abandon Tholindinar if properly enticed.
Oloz learned of the adventuring parties that reside in Tyrma, the most famous of which are the Blades. They are a group of houseless knights and a wind priestess, and they generally serve the Tower. He also heard brief mention of the Woodwatchers and High Harps, but the poet he spoke with was more dismissive of them.
Further, he learned that the Scourge of Six hails from Arvoriena and is extremely mercenary. They are led by a wizard named Salainen. Amongst their number is a Murathan swordsman called Al-Saif and an elvish thief named Findal. Predictably, they aren't known for their kindness but rather for following the coin wherever it may lead.
Through listening to idle bar-talk between two ship's masters in the White Swan, they learned the houses generally perceived to support the Alcosa. Rumors centering around a civil war seem to be common, for the Alcosa fear that if the Towerborn King is allowed to have his way when he dies the Green Wizards will convene an Electoral Council which has not been done in centuries upon centuries.
To be succinct: Naur's master, Tholindinar, sits on the Council of the Silver Wizards. He is on the outs (for reasons they have yet to uncover) with his fellows, but he appears to be one of the more moderate members of the Silver Order, content to study magic and sneer at the Green Wizards (who are an active political player in support the Towerborn King) from afar.
The most powerful voice on the Council, a sorceress named Alodoriala, is his chief rival. She is openly antagonistic to the Green Wizards of the Tower, something that he sees as unnecessary and possibly dangerous. The catalyzing event is the discovery of an ancient elvish tome, The Book of Dreaming Secrets, replete with magic from the Fourth Age. Possession of this book would be a coup for either organization and it just so happens to have come into the hands of a wealthy merchantess in a nearby port town. Tholindinar hopes that his 'prentice and the Hounds can beat out an unpleasantly named adventuring company (the Scourge of Six) for the contract to go buy it and do so before the Green Wizard's own proxy company does the same. This will boost his standing in the Council, to be able to say it was his apprentice who retrieved the book.
Here's what the Hounds discovered last night:
Tholindinar is a double-edged sword; he may allow Naur to get into the Silver Manse, but mention of his name tends to be polarizing to the other Silver Wizards.
The Silver Wizards assume the contract is well in hand already and that the Council has decided on the Scourge.
Naur has planted the seems of his own companies' hiring in the mind of the Undermaster Velhandar and also hinted that he might abandon Tholindinar if properly enticed.
Oloz learned of the adventuring parties that reside in Tyrma, the most famous of which are the Blades. They are a group of houseless knights and a wind priestess, and they generally serve the Tower. He also heard brief mention of the Woodwatchers and High Harps, but the poet he spoke with was more dismissive of them.
Further, he learned that the Scourge of Six hails from Arvoriena and is extremely mercenary. They are led by a wizard named Salainen. Amongst their number is a Murathan swordsman called Al-Saif and an elvish thief named Findal. Predictably, they aren't known for their kindness but rather for following the coin wherever it may lead.
Through listening to idle bar-talk between two ship's masters in the White Swan, they learned the houses generally perceived to support the Alcosa. Rumors centering around a civil war seem to be common, for the Alcosa fear that if the Towerborn King is allowed to have his way when he dies the Green Wizards will convene an Electoral Council which has not been done in centuries upon centuries.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thinking Outside the Rules
I had a long conversation with a close friend who has played AD&D with me for many many years a few days ago. He's never really liked the D&D system that much, always preferring Shadowrun (and a small number of other PnP games) even when we were but children. I've struggled to understand his point of view for years but its only this past week that we delved deep enough into it where I feel like I can finally make an accurate judgement about what has irked him for so long—to the point where I can almost guarantee that the reason isn't because of anything that's built into the system but rather a misapprehension about the way the game is played.
This all came about while we were discussing (in a sort of post-game manner—I have several major flaws as a DM and one of them is that I love to postgame break down the tactics and strategies used by the party so they can think of better ways to handle things in the future) the raid on the ogre-held Island of Meri. My nameless friend (let's call him Argo) had considered again and again what to do with the information they had which was this: A few weeks ago, ogres (perhaps in barges) sailed to the island and laid it waste. The few priests who escaped where so near to death that they died shortly thereafter, unable to give a clear indication of the enemy forces on the island. They were told that there were ogres and some of the dying believed they had seen a giant.
With this information, the Hounds hired up a mercenary ship full of men that was equipped with catapults and scorpions on the grounds that they could use it to bombard the island and possibly kill any giants. They were fearful that rock-hurling would blast smaller ships out of the water. Now, the issue I point out right here is that they didn't have enough information to make an informed decision.
My suggestion was that they should have CREPT onto the island in the night and done some recon work. Argo's immediate reaction was that it didn't make any difference: "Tactics and strategy can do very little to overcome higher level foes" is something like what he said to me on the phone. I was flabbergasted. I couldn't comprehend why he thought that. He went on to reveal that he was familiar with "many many AD&D modules" that were "single rooms where you fight some guys and then move on to fight other guys in other rooms, never expecting them to interact."
I don't know if OD&D modules were ever designed this way. I informed him that, to the best of my knowledge, he was quite mistaken and indeed a lot of time and effort has been dedicated to describe states of alarm in various dungeons and the amount of noise you make while fighting (and whether that provokes wandering monster checks, etc.) I told him that you really have to think OUTSIDE the box in D&D. It's my experience that if you come to a fair fight, you have a 50/50 chance of dying. Things such as terrain, numbers, and magic help make up for what appears to be fair, but you must do your best to cant the odds in your favor, relying only at the very end in the very pinch on your martial prowess to save you.
This is the way everyone and their mother plays Shadowrun... but Shadowrun explicitly has rules that make this clear, I guess. I'm not TOO too familiar with it ruleswise, only through the stories I've heard. Lateral thinking has always, as far as I'm concerned, been part of AD&D. Without it, you really can't expect to be victorious. Running headlong at any foe is a sure recipe for death unless you have all the gods of fate, luck, and dice on your side. D&D is just like Shadowrun as far as I know, in that you should be encouraged to make use of things outside the direct field of combat.
The real tricky part for him is that some rules are hidden (DM only) or non-existant (contacts, information gathering) which really throws him for a loop. As he told me, when considering his actions he thinks of what the rules are to see what tools he has available. I think we've finally come to an understanding about the way AD&D is meant to work (you think something you want to do, the DM translates that into the rules as best he can), which isn't by choosing a wrench to deal with a nail situation. This also harkened back to the thief/sneak debate in which I informed him that I would never ask for a move silently roll from a thief unless it was clearly called for—the risk to make a lot of noise and blow cover. In that same way, characters who are not thieves can still sneak around... they just have to do so using environmental cover and advantages (and are generally not going to be as good at it).
This all came about while we were discussing (in a sort of post-game manner—I have several major flaws as a DM and one of them is that I love to postgame break down the tactics and strategies used by the party so they can think of better ways to handle things in the future) the raid on the ogre-held Island of Meri. My nameless friend (let's call him Argo) had considered again and again what to do with the information they had which was this: A few weeks ago, ogres (perhaps in barges) sailed to the island and laid it waste. The few priests who escaped where so near to death that they died shortly thereafter, unable to give a clear indication of the enemy forces on the island. They were told that there were ogres and some of the dying believed they had seen a giant.
With this information, the Hounds hired up a mercenary ship full of men that was equipped with catapults and scorpions on the grounds that they could use it to bombard the island and possibly kill any giants. They were fearful that rock-hurling would blast smaller ships out of the water. Now, the issue I point out right here is that they didn't have enough information to make an informed decision.
My suggestion was that they should have CREPT onto the island in the night and done some recon work. Argo's immediate reaction was that it didn't make any difference: "Tactics and strategy can do very little to overcome higher level foes" is something like what he said to me on the phone. I was flabbergasted. I couldn't comprehend why he thought that. He went on to reveal that he was familiar with "many many AD&D modules" that were "single rooms where you fight some guys and then move on to fight other guys in other rooms, never expecting them to interact."
I don't know if OD&D modules were ever designed this way. I informed him that, to the best of my knowledge, he was quite mistaken and indeed a lot of time and effort has been dedicated to describe states of alarm in various dungeons and the amount of noise you make while fighting (and whether that provokes wandering monster checks, etc.) I told him that you really have to think OUTSIDE the box in D&D. It's my experience that if you come to a fair fight, you have a 50/50 chance of dying. Things such as terrain, numbers, and magic help make up for what appears to be fair, but you must do your best to cant the odds in your favor, relying only at the very end in the very pinch on your martial prowess to save you.
This is the way everyone and their mother plays Shadowrun... but Shadowrun explicitly has rules that make this clear, I guess. I'm not TOO too familiar with it ruleswise, only through the stories I've heard. Lateral thinking has always, as far as I'm concerned, been part of AD&D. Without it, you really can't expect to be victorious. Running headlong at any foe is a sure recipe for death unless you have all the gods of fate, luck, and dice on your side. D&D is just like Shadowrun as far as I know, in that you should be encouraged to make use of things outside the direct field of combat.
The real tricky part for him is that some rules are hidden (DM only) or non-existant (contacts, information gathering) which really throws him for a loop. As he told me, when considering his actions he thinks of what the rules are to see what tools he has available. I think we've finally come to an understanding about the way AD&D is meant to work (you think something you want to do, the DM translates that into the rules as best he can), which isn't by choosing a wrench to deal with a nail situation. This also harkened back to the thief/sneak debate in which I informed him that I would never ask for a move silently roll from a thief unless it was clearly called for—the risk to make a lot of noise and blow cover. In that same way, characters who are not thieves can still sneak around... they just have to do so using environmental cover and advantages (and are generally not going to be as good at it).
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Hounds of Aros
Here is the charter for the Hounds of Aros, recently re-written by Oloz Satyr-born:
Even so near the very heart of splendor, blackness festers. We have discovered foes on Meri's isle that we had scarcely dreamed of - imagined could be so near, so imminent, or perhaps even real. A pair of cyclopses, not less and likely more than two score ogres, and their darkly cunning master. We hired the help of a mercenary cog out of Blackport - destroyed now, though I do not mourn it much, callous though that sounds - and with use of its weapons slew one cyclops, though the other yet lives to be a terror elsewhere, and nearly halved the ogaritic force, but lost much of our own as well. Several times were we almost bested by ogaritic strength, and in the end shamed by their tactics, and near the outset the poor fool Galzoth and little Katerine were slain.
Did they know the risk? In my heart I know that I did, but I have seen death before and I know that as long as my fight is just my end is not to be feared overmuch. What about Galzoth, whose heart still bore the stain of his beginnings? What place will his soul find in the afterlife? Or Katerine, so much like a child? I spoke with Keir the dwarf several times on the island, and the things he had to say, his questions surprised me, and I fear sometimes that I am losing touch with these men and women with whom I shed blood. He could have lost his life and never known beyond a vague thirst for gold why he was fighting.
Even so near the very heart of splendor, blackness festers. We have discovered foes on Meri's isle that we had scarcely dreamed of - imagined could be so near, so imminent, or perhaps even real. A pair of cyclopses, not less and likely more than two score ogres, and their darkly cunning master. We hired the help of a mercenary cog out of Blackport - destroyed now, though I do not mourn it much, callous though that sounds - and with use of its weapons slew one cyclops, though the other yet lives to be a terror elsewhere, and nearly halved the ogaritic force, but lost much of our own as well. Several times were we almost bested by ogaritic strength, and in the end shamed by their tactics, and near the outset the poor fool Galzoth and little Katerine were slain.
Did they know the risk? In my heart I know that I did, but I have seen death before and I know that as long as my fight is just my end is not to be feared overmuch. What about Galzoth, whose heart still bore the stain of his beginnings? What place will his soul find in the afterlife? Or Katerine, so much like a child? I spoke with Keir the dwarf several times on the island, and the things he had to say, his questions surprised me, and I fear sometimes that I am losing touch with these men and women with whom I shed blood. He could have lost his life and never known beyond a vague thirst for gold why he was fighting.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Fighting Ogres Has Never Been so Unpleasant
Where have I been, you may well be asking? Work's gotten pretty crazy. So in lieu of some half-baked essay, here are adventure logs written by two ACTUAL PLAYERS from the Hounds of Aros game:
(OLOZ, the now-satyr former-half-orc)
Whatever the fuck day we arrived:
We have come to Tyrma, the great stone in the crown of the elf-kingdom of Silversong. I can feel the call of the woods that shoot through the city like roots through soil, of the elf-maids in their meandering marble houses - I burn to be acquainted more closely! If Thurayn was a nightmare, then Tyrma is a dream. I cannot shelter myself in dreams. Nightmares still exist all around, outside this magical place. Thurayn still waits. I cannot forget that. I still have more to do before I can take to the woods and to the women. I must never forget. Essad and all her slaves must be set free.
Avaunus, 2nd Longing
Though I have been on a few now, I am forming no great love of boats - and this one less than most. We have only the night before spoken with the Seasinger here in Tyrma, and found him in need of our aid - an island temple nearby has been taken by some ogaritic force, with, perhaps, gigantine aid, and so I have paid for the help of this easterner cog, bedecked as it is in scorpions and catapaults, to take us there, and help with their machinery where they may. The goblin manservant Thembo has a lurid quizzicality about him that puts me in mind of Takal, and his snaggletoothed sneer is almost more than I can stomach. Still, it bears us toward the isle where we will take back Meri's temple, and with arms most useful for the task - if its captain can be trusted.
(OLOZ, the now-satyr former-half-orc)
Whatever the fuck day we arrived:
We have come to Tyrma, the great stone in the crown of the elf-kingdom of Silversong. I can feel the call of the woods that shoot through the city like roots through soil, of the elf-maids in their meandering marble houses - I burn to be acquainted more closely! If Thurayn was a nightmare, then Tyrma is a dream. I cannot shelter myself in dreams. Nightmares still exist all around, outside this magical place. Thurayn still waits. I cannot forget that. I still have more to do before I can take to the woods and to the women. I must never forget. Essad and all her slaves must be set free.
Avaunus, 2nd Longing
Though I have been on a few now, I am forming no great love of boats - and this one less than most. We have only the night before spoken with the Seasinger here in Tyrma, and found him in need of our aid - an island temple nearby has been taken by some ogaritic force, with, perhaps, gigantine aid, and so I have paid for the help of this easterner cog, bedecked as it is in scorpions and catapaults, to take us there, and help with their machinery where they may. The goblin manservant Thembo has a lurid quizzicality about him that puts me in mind of Takal, and his snaggletoothed sneer is almost more than I can stomach. Still, it bears us toward the isle where we will take back Meri's temple, and with arms most useful for the task - if its captain can be trusted.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Grenade-like Missiles
This came up last night in our gaming session and I think a new alternate rule (or maybe a duplicate of some homebrew rule somewhere) was proposed that could be of great utility.
The situation was this: a small island-shrine dedicated to Meri, Lady of the Waters, had been overrun by ogres and their enslaved cyclops. The Hounds, deciding that since they intended to sail across the Cloud Sea to the farthest north, went to curry some favor with the Pale Lady and get her blessings (perhaps to counteract the ire they had raised from her husband, Vodei, the Old Man of the Deeps). It helped, to be sure, that one of the Hounds is a cleric of the sea-goddess.
The situation was this: a small island-shrine dedicated to Meri, Lady of the Waters, had been overrun by ogres and their enslaved cyclops. The Hounds, deciding that since they intended to sail across the Cloud Sea to the farthest north, went to curry some favor with the Pale Lady and get her blessings (perhaps to counteract the ire they had raised from her husband, Vodei, the Old Man of the Deeps). It helped, to be sure, that one of the Hounds is a cleric of the sea-goddess.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
The Strangeness of Demihumans
There are three common problems that I see cropping up with demihuman races. Not all settings suffer from these, so I'm not saying this is a universal issue. Rather, these are common pitfalls when attempting to depict something so strange as a race that is almost like men but not quite in some significant ways.
The first is the little men with beards/tall men with ears flaw. This is something that has plagued me personally for a long time. I've struggled to find solutions to this time and time again and I think I have finally hit on a method of depiction that satisfies me. Why bother to have dwarves and elves and halflings and trolls and orcs if they're all just people with different skins on? So I've gone through great lengths to differentiate my demihumans, to make them somewhat strange and unlike men.
The second issue is the problem of the monoculture. I have tried to address that in the 10th Age by explaining it (though even in the 10th Age there is no monoculture but rather two-five racial cultures for each demihuman race which are determined by a number of factors). Dwarves are intensely conservative and purposefully try to replicate ancient social structures. As something more-than-human (or less-than-human, as the argument may go), they have an almost supernatural ability to recreate their own societies. Their language has barely changed in centuries.
Elves, on the other hand, actively promote a mono-culture through teleportation magic (the Silver Road) and the standardization of elvish classics and grammaticians taught to all wind elves the world over.
The third issue is one that I remembered when I started writing this essay but which I've now forgotten, so maybe it wasn't all that important. Anyway, what I really want to talk about today is the first -- making demihumans a little less human.
The first is the little men with beards/tall men with ears flaw. This is something that has plagued me personally for a long time. I've struggled to find solutions to this time and time again and I think I have finally hit on a method of depiction that satisfies me. Why bother to have dwarves and elves and halflings and trolls and orcs if they're all just people with different skins on? So I've gone through great lengths to differentiate my demihumans, to make them somewhat strange and unlike men.
The second issue is the problem of the monoculture. I have tried to address that in the 10th Age by explaining it (though even in the 10th Age there is no monoculture but rather two-five racial cultures for each demihuman race which are determined by a number of factors). Dwarves are intensely conservative and purposefully try to replicate ancient social structures. As something more-than-human (or less-than-human, as the argument may go), they have an almost supernatural ability to recreate their own societies. Their language has barely changed in centuries.
Elves, on the other hand, actively promote a mono-culture through teleportation magic (the Silver Road) and the standardization of elvish classics and grammaticians taught to all wind elves the world over.
The third issue is one that I remembered when I started writing this essay but which I've now forgotten, so maybe it wasn't all that important. Anyway, what I really want to talk about today is the first -- making demihumans a little less human.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Treasuregasm
This week the Hounds (my most steadfast party, the ones that play once a week, generally without fail) managed to open an ancient elvish treasure vault and get a look inside. They were certainly surprised, as this was the largest haul that they've ever seen in a D&D game. While they eventually sold it all, even the coins (for reasons of "historical interest" to the captain of a local elvish merchant's compact), it remains a list to be awed by. Oh, those ten thousand gold Dorlish readers ain't too shabby, neither.
A gold belt made of interlocking leaves and carefully etched.
A circle of wrought silver with plating of jade depicting a crown of waves and a slender elvish ship above the brow, thought to belong to an elf captain during the Fourth or Fifth Age.
A gold belt made of interlocking leaves and carefully etched.
A circle of wrought silver with plating of jade depicting a crown of waves and a slender elvish ship above the brow, thought to belong to an elf captain during the Fourth or Fifth Age.
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