It’s that time again! Time to try and see what time we can meet up for a bit of D&D action LIVE! Things are looking busy this weekend, but next weekend looks as good as bacon lasagna. Again, Saturday mornings are out for me, Monday is ok anything else is pants.
Filed under: games, Organized Event | Tags: 4th edition, campaign, Deadweight, Isley
Moving to the next level
Things have progressed – I’ve created a skeleton forum for us to start posting on. I’ll be filling it up as time goes by, but in the meantime it gives us a way to continue game even when you can’t make it to the seems-like-only-once-a-month-these-days sessions. Don’t worry about how great it is – there’s no charge for awesome.
Here’s a link to the game itself – http://www.myth-weavers.com/games.php?gameid=2648
You also have to register on the site and make a character sheet with at least the character name on it. I have excel sheets for pretty much all the characters, so don’t worry about all the details.
Once you’ve done that, go to the above link and choose ‘join game.’ Then you can post on the forums – HERE, which is where the actual gameplay will happen. If you have some spare time, look through the ‘help’ section – it will tell you about dice rolls, private posts and so on.
Here’s where we ended last time:
Filed under: games, Organized Event | Tags: 4th edition, campaign, Rob is awesome
I’m introducing a new element to the game. The reason for doing this is that I’ve found it can be difficult for some players to attend sessions regularly, for various reasons. To counter this I’m going to move the game to Play-By-Post during the time between actual gaming sessions.
The basic idea is we have a forum set up especially for playing the game, which people can post on whenever they get the chance, to advance the story.
We’ll still have the sessions as often as we can, but not it wont be quite so bad for a player if they can’t make it to one.
For the time being all you have to do is go to http://www.myth-weavers.com/ and register an account. Let me know your account name, or do a search for ‘townleystreet’ on there and PM me. The forum for our game is still under construction, but we should be able to play through it next week.
Well its a bit rough, but I thought I’d take a different tact this week…
Deadweight stared down at the dwarf. Being a Halfling, this was no easy task. Wangson. Son of Wang. It was difficult to imagine. Deadweight searched the features of the dwarf, who was chanting some prayer under his breath. A flash of light arced out from his hammer. If there was some trace of the two-hundred and twenty pound, lecherous whoreson that was his first mate in this cleric, Deadweight was yet to discover it. Perhaps it was more ‘metaphysical’. A crudely hewn arrow thumped into the door beam. Beside him, Giljew peered cautiously through the doorway.
“What’s your count?” Deadweight asked.
“I can only make about three, I think we chased off a couple.” Said Giljew.
In the little corridor between the rooms were strewn a number of hobgoblin corpses.
“Wait here lads,” said Deadweight. “They’ll chase us through.” Lessons past had taught him the hard way.
Deadweight’s ears twitched, as the words of Sam’s incantation crept into his ears like small winged insects. A throbbing purple missile hurled down the corridor. He was glad Geovanna wasn’t here now, he wasn’t sure Isley would have been impressed. On the opposite side of the door, the Eldarin growled. One of the vicious arrows protruded from his thigh.
“It will be alright,” said Wangson. “It’s not poisoned, you’re lucky it missed the bone.”
“Good,” Isley replied, snapping the shaft with a grimace. A warcry echoed from the other room. One of the hobgoblins bashed his cleaver against his shield. Before Deadweight could stop him, Isley tore into the room. Deadweight swore under his breath. “Quick, help him!”
Isley leaned away as the cleaver narrowly missed. His longsword clattered against the hobgoblin’s shield. He turned, hearing Deadweight’s warning as another attacker swept towards his exposed flank. In the return stroke the longsword slashed across the new attacker’s face. Beside him, Giljew had appeared. Isley had to admit, he was fast. The hobgoblin swatted at the Halfling with a shield, raising his murderous blade. The challenge died in his throat on the end of Giljew’s blade. The sword’s razor-edge sang as it was freed from the hobgoblin’s neck to be plunged again through ribs and the heart. Another arrow whistled narrowly past him.
“Get back!” Deadweight called.
Isley cast him a baleful glare, stooping to snatch the slain hobgoblin’s shield before falling back to the safety of the doorway with the rest of the party.
A blast of arcane energy exploded through the doorway behind them, whipping at Wangon’s cloak. Deadweight swore again as the blast of heat seared his face.
“Wait, wait! You whoresons. Wait for that bastard to follow us,” hissed Deadweight through clenched teeth.
Isley groaned.
“Are you alright?” Asked Wangson quickly.
The tall Eldarin brushed him away.
“He looks pale, even for an Eldarin. We need to treat him.”
“Quickly, here he comes!” warned Giljew.
The party’s concern returned to their foe, as the hobgoblin mage bellowed at them from the doorway. Sam unleashed another bolt of obscene energy.
“No!” yelled Wangson, though he was too late to restrain Isley as he hurled himself through the doorway.
Isley roared his challenge as his sword slashed past the mage. The hobgoblin caught the second blow with his staff as it descended towards his head. For a moment the two pushed against each other, locked in combat. The mage growled. Dust fell from the ceiling as a thunderous explosion flared from the mage’s staff. Isley dropped to the ground.
Swiftly, Giljew was above Isley, his sword raking past the hobgoblin’s waist. Before he could withdraw his blade for a second strike, a clawed hand clenched his wrist. The hobgoblin drew his face close Giljew’s, as though to inspect this curious creature that had drawn his blood. Giljew stared into the mage’s face wide-eyed. The mage raised its staff, which amassed as dark energies were drawn to it. Giljew’s eyes rolled in his head and he gasped as though his breath were drawn from his chest. Behind him, Giljew felt himself pushed aside, breaking the mage’s spell. Deadweight pushed himself between them.
The mage cried out with fury, unleashing a torrent of arcane energy. Deadweight hurriedly raised his shield, feeling the crushing anxiety of the doombolt as it blasted around him.
Overhead, arcane energy crackled, slamming into the warcaster. As the hobgoblin reeled backwards, Giljew leapt past Deadweight, the rogue’s blade slashing at the hobgoblin in a quick succession of thrusts.
The party surveyed the room intently. Sam inspected the warcaster’s bloodied staff. Deadweight kicked at a corpse.
“Well that went alr… what is it?” Asked Deadweight.
Giljew’s brow knitted in confusion.
“Mump?” He asked, pointing to Isley’s shield.
Isley, turning the shield over, ran a hand across letters carved into the hardened oak.
“Must have been the poor bastard they stole it off, ooooh look what I found.” Said Deadweight excitedly.
Wangson crossed the room to where Deadweight was standing. The Halfling held up a suit of chainmail, as bright red as an unpicked apple. The dwarf inspected the armour with a cursory finger.
“I know this armour, its such that the deep-vein delvers wear in the Ironcap Mountains.” He said.
“Really?” Said Deadweight holding it to his chest. He looked around the room, a grin from one ear to the next.
“Yoink!”
Another update on the campaign’s progress.
Firstly there were a few technical difficulties at the start, including people not being online. We didn’t get quite as far as perhaps we could have because of that, but nonetheless we had a good run.
Mump, like most hobgoblins, was not a man of ambition. The close-to-fresh meat, vulgar company and especially the free wine that they had come accross made him a very satisfied hobgoblin. They even got to raid a town every-so-often, but that was generally cut short. For a creature with no real dreams, Mump had achieved all of them.
All that changed, however, when the rudest Eladrin Mump had ever come accross pushed open the door to their little party. Luckily a hobgoblin is never without his weapons, so dispite the atmosphere of frivolity, everybody was ready for a fight, much like when a well known nut-kick strolls into a bar.
Needless to say Mump and his friends took offense to this intrusion, and tried as best they could, to reason with the intruders. The reason in this case being Flails, Longswords and arrows. The eladrin and his friends piled into the room and rudely started to attack everybody.
Mump fought like a zombie in a field of geniuses. Even so, his friends fell one after another. All succumbing to the painful combination of wine and fighting. Like crabs fighting to death on BBQ, their options were limited and painful. Mump cursed at this disaster. He had never asked for much. The Eladrin stabbed at him ineffectually. He had been so happy with what he had, especially his almost clean-ish shield.
The Eladrin pierced his shield. Twice. Mump’s eyes turn red. The rogue attacked him in a flurry of racial hate. Mump’s clothes were soaked in his own blood. He was determined though, to kill the Eladrin who had offended him so much.
But it was all for naught. Mump fought bitterly, remembering his great uncle Pimble Footbreath, Hobgoblin hero of the battle against the sleeping buffalo herd. What good was it, if he was just going to die like this? There was nothing he could do. It was over. The world grew dim around him. Mump closed his eyes with the sight of a fancy-dress Eladrin staring disapprovingly at him.
If only he’d stayed around a little more – he would have seen that same Eladrin fall to the might warcaster. If he had died at exactly that point, before the warcaster himself was shredded like cheese destined to top a lasagna of dead hobgoblin, Mump might have died happy.
This adventure occured prior to the events of the campaign proper, while Deadweight and his merry band of drunkards were escorting Isley to his sister.
Never Travel Alone
Deadweight was fighting a hangover, and consequently, the urge to strangle his latest paycheck Isley who kept talking about how things would be under the rule of a good Eladrin dictator. It was only a matter of time before he took a swing at something, so perhaps it’s just as well that he looked up and saw a solitary reddish creature in the middle of the road in front of them.
It had a reptilian head and snarled at them, waving a spear clearly made for utility rather than beauty. Deadweight didn’t have to think twice. Looking back, he couldn’t remember actually charging the kobold, he just found himself in front of it screaming goblin curses and swinging his sword more to emphasize the curses than to actually cause damage. It was a comment about the kobold’s heritage containing goats that actually killed it. Deadweight had a sweet moment of peace in his mind before he realized what he had done. Kobolds aren’t particularly bright, and a kobold trap is easy to spot, but not so much when your head is pounding like a foundry.
Of course his friends ran up to … help him, but that just put them in the middle of a kobold ambush. They came from both sides of the road screetching in their own painful tongue. Perhaps they showed their foolishness however, when they targeted Giljew. Five kobolds surrounded him, but in their frenzy he was barely scratched. He slipped away before the kobolds could even trip over themselves.
Isley and Wang threw themselves into the kobolds coming from the Eastern side of the road. Each tried to out-do the other cutting through the kobolds as they appeared from the bushes. Giljew managed to catch them and found a more … appropriate place from which to exploit the naunces of battle.
As his head cleared, and his gut fell, Deadweight was surrounded by the kobolds who had just been given the slip by Giljew. He brought every goblin and halfling curse he could think of to punish the ears of his foes. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite enough. Deadweight fell, though for years latter he claimed it was from the drink, not the kobolds. Suddenly the fight had turned all messy.
Perhaps the most prudent of the group, Giljew kept a keen eye on the situation. He watched as the kobolds piled around them; He watched as Isley and Wang pulled every trick they could to tear through the kobold ranks; He watched as Wang tried to break away, only to be stabbed in the back; He watched as Isley made a heroic stand – forcing 5 kobolds to curse him for his seeming immortality; He watched Isley fall; He watched as he slowly snuck away until it was safe.
The kobolds didn’t hang around long, and Giljew came back to look after his wounded troupe. Chunks of flesh lay around Wang, it was difficult to tell whether they came from him, or from one of his victims. Isley’s clothes had been soiled, and would need a very good cleaning before he could be taken seriously in public. Deadweight was snoring.
It’s now June 3rd (in game). Our devil-may-care band of heroes discovered the ruins of an old monastery – grape vines rampant, and goblin tracks present. They decided to wait one night to prepare for the upcoming challanges as they tried to end the bandit menace once and for all. Would they discover why the bandits were targeting Trouse so ruthlessly? Can Giljew discover the meaning of the strange snake symbol before Deadweight destroys any trace of it?
The next morning they set out once more to the manastery monastery and the one remaining structure – the chapel. Inside it was as dilapidated as the monastery around it – but at the back there was an interesting feature. The chapel bell had been lifted up on a crude structure, ready to ring.
It was an ambush! The goblins came from every direction, overwhelming the party with their sheer numbers. Deadweight reported more than 10 coming through the door behind him at least. A hard and bloody battle ensued – Giljew was thrown accross the room, Isley was stabbed, and Deadweight padded himself in the most appropriate place to pad. It’s difficult to say how exactly they managed to defeat so many enemies, but they did. Wang pushed his way through the piled corpses searching for the last goblin archer – a coward who had run at the sight of his friends being ground and minced like so much goblin offal.
The Wine Cellar
Next they sent Isley down to check out a dark passage. All his efforts came to naught however, when he found that the door was locked. Giljew quickly came to help, and Isley offered the key words “I think it’s locked,” to help Giljew succeed. Once inside they made their way through the dark shadowy cellar…
EDIT: took the manliness out of the monatery 
The only good goblin is one floating in a soup. So by those standards, it was a pretty good day, but first I should start at the begining (That’s what its for I guess).
When I woke up this morning I thought someone had set fire under my eyebrows. I don’t remember too much of last night. I think they brew this Spiggot Ale from spit, a Giant’s toenail clippings and more spit then filter it through a camel’s pubic hair. All in all, not a bad drop for local rubbish. Once I remembered who I was (Hannibal Deadweight, Halfling Extraordinaire and Dashing Hero of the Seas) and found my pants (just down the hall from my room), I went for a look around. Turns out The big wee lass had already been up at the unholy hour of 10am and gone into town. Apparentally she tried to wake me? Methinks tis a mistake she’ll not make twice… I’m sure I didn’t really proposition her…
Anyway, the lads arrived late last night, seems they found the brewhouse first as well, good lads. Let me introduce my crew to you: One-eyed Furious Wang is my bosun, the best (and only) I’ve ever had. I’m not entirely sure what a bosun does, though if it involves wenching, drinking and beating things with an axe (in variations of that order) then he is definitely good at his vocation. Giljew is my first mate. Not the best man on the sail, he tells me he was ‘born and bred of the forest folk” whatever that means. But I didn’t hire him for his lack of sailing skills. Giljew is a genius, a master, a savant even, of the more… subtle skills. He is therefore a handy halfling for an employer of my vocation. It did my heart good to see the lads again, there is something about Lord Longshanks that makes me uneasy. Methinks something foul in yonder water lurks. The pointy-ears is alright for a bigjob. I’m told that her brother will soon arrive in this backwater spit of a town soon as well. More bossy pointy-ears. Great. Still, if the brother is anything like his sister he might be alright.
So long story short, we set out on the advice of that ranger nob to find these bandits. We was going through the forest when what do we find? That’s right. *illegible* goblins! Well I set Giljew to have a look through the forest, he’s a natural in the forest you see. Wang and I waited, when we heard some ruckus. I didn’t see what happened, but methinks me first mate had startled a troop of ogre morris dancers. I heard swearing, and Giljew showed up, the lad had copped a crossbow bolt in the leg. Worse… a goblin crossbow bolt!
So I jumped into action and chased the little *illegible* down. I managed to kill three of them, I couldn’t find anymore which was disappointing. Wang and Giljew helped me of course, they’re good lads. Wang must’ve remembered it was my birthday yesterday, he gave me a goblin-head flagon. It was the best birthday gift since Fat-lip Widgee and Big Balls Boy Badur gave me them rat conkers when I was a wee lad.
Strange thing, there only being three of them green-skinned whoreson rotten-todger bastards goblins. As the Queen said to the Peach-cobbler, ‘someone’s pissed tinkled in my pie’.
Today, from 5 until 8 Australian time (From 4 until 7 Japan time) We will play. I will post server details later.
Filed under: games | Tags: 4th edition, campaign, campaign world, Rob is awesome, Spoilers
An infinite variety of experiences cause a man to pray. In a polytheistic world, like that of D&D, it’s important to know which god to pray to for what reason. This can be an easy decision (you want your heist to go well – pray to the god of theives) or a complicated one (your intelligent, magic using mule has acquired a rare disease the night before your big heist – Umm, god of animals? god of medicine? god of magic users? god of theives?). What happens if you pray to the wrong one? Does the right one get annoyed and make things worse?
In this campaign world it is not uncommon to hear somebody tell the story of how they saw a particular god appear in such and such a place; or for them to explain some event through an act of the gods.
The gods worshipped here are all the same ones detailed in the core books, with a couple of slight additions to their areas of command. For the time being I’m going to only detail the Good or Unaligned gods, as these are the ones that you will have the most opportunity to interact with. You will learn more about the other gods, but that will come through the game itself.
*EDIT* added the gods up to Melora. I’ll update the remaining 4 when I can.
