On page fifty-five of Paizo Publishing's GameMastery Guide is fascinating list of archaic or obscure words. That list is provided raw without definitions. This post lists the words with links to the definition of each and categorizes the words into adjectives, nouns, and verbs.
Many of the words are separated and labeled "impractically specific." While these words are unquestionably interesting, they are only useful in unique circumstances. (Ambergris, for example, is not a word that will frequently arise in conversations outside those dedicated to perfume or the expulsions of sperm whales.) I have tried to exclude from this category words that might be easily used in metaphor in pedestrian discussion, but this quality is open to opinion -- though one can argue that dauphin might be used to describe the inheritor of a family business, it has still been placed in the category because of its specificity. Of course, if you're scouring the list as a Pathfinder or D&D game master in the first place, this section may prove more useful than the others.
When selecting a primary online dictionary to provide definitions from, I chose webster-dictionary.org, which impressed me with its cross-referencing of a 1913 edition of Webster's and the more modern WordNet Dictionary. (I've also used Wiktionary where the other fails.) Upon visiting the page of the word you've clicked, be sure to check the synonyms listed for other little known words.
(The list is yet complete.)
Adjectives
abstemious, abstruse, acephalous, acrid, aesculapian, amorphous, anfractuous, anserine, antediluvian, aquiline, ardent, astomatous, atavistic, augean, avuncular, bacchanal, baleful, banal, bantam, barmy, baroque, bawdy, bibulous, blowzy, boeotian, boreal, bouffant, bucolic, cadaverous, caitiff, canny, caparison, caustic, chary, circumvallate, cognate, comely, commodious, condign, connubial, conterminous, convivial, crenellated, crepuscular, cruciform, cyclopean, damask, decuman, desiccate, distaff, dotterel, doughty, dudgeon, ebullient, eldritch, eleemosynary, empyreal, flagitious, friable, frolic, fulgent, fuliginous, glaucous, gossamer, halcyon, hebdomadal, hermetic, hircine, hirsute, hoary, hoyden, indurate, ineffable, inexorable, infrangible, invidious, irascible, itinerant, jejune, jocund, kittle,
Nouns
abscess, abstersion, ague, ambrosia, ambry, anodyne, antechamber, antic,
argot, ascian, asperity, ataxia, autarch, bacchanal, badinage, bagatelle, baksheesh, balderdash, ballyhoo, bathos, bayard, beatitude, beldame, belvedere, benefice, benison, bibliolatry, bijou, billingsgate, bivouac, blague, blain, blarney, bombast, bower, braggadocio, bravo, brine, bucolic, cache, cad, cadre, caitiff, calumny, camarilla, canard, canticle, caparison, caper, carillon, casuistry, cateran, cavil, celerity, churl, cistern, clamber, cognate, cognomen, compurgation, condottiere, contretemps, conundrum, coppice, coquette, corban, cornucopia, coronach, cosset, coterie, coven, covenant, coxcomb, coxswain, crone, crony, crotchet, cuckold, cur, cynosure, dacoit, dastard, debauch, deglutition, demesne, diadem, diarchy, dictum, dirge, distaff, dolor, dotterel, doyen, dragoman, dross, dudgeon, duffer, eclat, eidolon, effigy, elan, eleemosynary, epicure, factotum, falderal, fallal, fardel, farrago, fester, filament, firmament, foozle, fop, fracas, fresco, frippery, frolic, gaffer, gammer, gentry, gewgaw, gimcrack, gloaming, glower, gossamer, grippe, halidom, harangue, harbinger, harlequin, harridan, hauteur, hecatomb, helot, hoyden, humbug, ichor, idolater, ilk, imbroglio, iniquity, itinerant, jabber, jackanapes, janissary, jaundice, jeer, jeremiad, jingo, jowl, jubilee, juggernaut, ken, kern, khamsin, kine, kirk, knacker, knell,
Verbs
abase, abash, accoutre, beleaguer, bede, beshrew, besot, bete, bewray, bivouac, blandish, blarney, blaspheme, bombast, bower, cadge, caper, castigate, caudle, cavil, chachinnate, circumvallate, clamber, coif, concatenate, convalesce, coruscate, cosset, covenant, cozen, cuckold, debauch, defenestrate, desiccate, diadem, dodder, efface, ensanguine, eviscerate, excoriate, fester, flagellate, foozle, frolic, fulminate, fustigate, genuflect, gibbet, glower, harangue, harbinger, harlequin, humbug, indurate, inosculate, inveigle, irk, jabber, jaundice, jeer, jowl, ken, kittle, kowtow,
Impractically specific
abattoir, ablution, affusion, alembic, alluvium, amanuensis, ambergris, amphora, anchorite, anthelmintic, baleen, bannock, banns, barque, bashi-bazouk, bas-relief, beadle, begum, belfry, beltane, benjamin, bier, bilbo, biltong, biretta, bodkin, bourse, bretwalda, bruin, bursar, cataphract, caudle, cenobite, chancellery, chyme, cinerary, cockade, coif, collet, colporteur, coomb, crannog, croft, cubit, cuirass, cuspidor, damask, dauphin, dobbin, dolmen, dowager, durbar, elegy, epigraph, equerry, escutcheon, fasces, fitz, formic, fumarole, galleass, gallipot, gallowglass, gardyloo, geophagy, gibbet, gralloch, hagiography, heriot, hussar, hydrargyrum, intaglio, jongleur, jorum, joss, jougs, kirtle, knout, kowtow, kulak,
noire,
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Session 10: The Battle At Byron Valley, finale
The Beardians and their goblin allies were still engaged in open battle with Dokt'mahn Haeten and his orc army. A number of orcs had already fallen to goblin traps and Chauncey's magic, but the corpses of these fallen were being collected into a pile by a couple of orc necromancers. Meanwhile, on the other side of the wind-swept fields, Dokt'mahn Haeten was attacking Chauncey and dealing serious damage, even as he was being surrounded by goblins and Beardians. He swiped at the wizard again -- she managed to dodge -- before shooting up into the sky, a barrage of goblin weaponry raining into the spot he'd just been. He flew across the field and alighted upon a cliff overlooking the group.
At the same time, Andy and his warriors advanced hurridly on the necromancers' corpse pile and were greeted by three barbarian bodyguards. Though the druid was stalled, the other Beardians' attention had also been drawn to his target, and arrows came flying at the necromancers. The missiles flew past or bounced off their decorated armor as the necromancers started their work: the first cast a fine powder across the corpses and the second placed a dark gem into each of their skulls. As each gem was set, the skeleton of the corpse broke free of its charred flesh and stood tall, battleaxe in bony hand. The small undead army began its march towards the foe.
And then the other shoe dropped. On the cliff overlooking the whole battlefield, Dokt'mahn Haeten stretched out his hands and a gale of icy death hailed out. Something like three quarters of the Beardian-goblin army were caught in the blast -- most of the goblins were immediately frozen to death as was one unfortunate wizard. Chauncey the anonymous elf popsicle teetered over and smashed against the ground, icy bits of her breaking off as her lifeless face looked on in frozen horror. The ogre mage cackled and again rose into the sky.
Below, Eddi shrugged off the death of his comrade to focus on surviving himself. He slid down the cliff he'd been standing on overlooking the necromancers' activities and raised his holy symbol, the sign of Kord gleaming in the sunlight. That gleam turned into a white light that scorched the bones of the skeleton army, yet they continued to advance. In retaliation, one of the necromancers pointed at Eddi and the cleric felt his body go numb -- the now familiar feeling of a paralyzation spell.
Meanwhile, Andy and his goblins had taken heavy damage from Haeten's attack, and they retreated from the nearby barbarians. Now the barbarians' closest target was Eddi and they advanced quickly. Grunting, Kerrac, who'd been backing up the cleric, jumped down from the above cliff and launched his sword at the orcs. But by now one had already taken careful aim at the helpless Eddi and its axe came streaking down-- and then the cleric lay in pool of his blood, a gaping wound in his neck.
Now Andy and the remaining goblins were gathering upon the cliff overlooking this scene, the ogre mage all but forgotten as they tried to rescue their healer unit. As Kerrac struck down the orc who'd attacked Eddi, Andy joined him below -- the druid rushed to the cleric and reached out with a curing spell. Skin suddenly regrew over the neck wound and the bleeding stopped -- Eddi returned to his feet with a sigh of relief and his holy symbol in hand. He raised it again, and this time the light passed over his allies, whose wounds closed similarly. Crisis averted, he, Andy, and Kerrac now turned to the six skeletons surrounding them.
Above them, a group of surviving goblins squealed in terror as Dokt'mahn Haeten's greatsword cut through their ranks. Their leader, another hobgoblin like Kerrac, barked out commands at them -- to attack the skeletons below while he held off the ogre mage. As the hobgoblin valiently deflected Haeten's attacks, two of the goblins gave a battlecry and launched two flasks of acid at the undead nearing the cornered Eddi and Andy. The flasks broke against the bared bones, smoldering green liquid splashing over the group of them ...
And that was it. The last strength of the bones, already disintegrated partly by the holy light of Eddi's symbol, gave out under the acid and the skeletons fell apart at the Beardians' feet. Andy wiped the sweat from his brow.
The remaining threats were taken down swiftly. As the drama by the southern cliffside had unfolded, K'Phalvius and his entourage of archers had been sitting out of reach on the northern cliffs, methodically sniping away at orc stragglers and the necromancers, who finally fell to the missiles. All that were left were a couple barbarians and skeletons who had not fallen to the acid, but quickly did to the Beardians' next attacks.
Dokt'mahn Haeten made a last ditch effort to save the situation. He stood above Eddi and cooed magical words at the cleric, speaking out a charm spell, but the cleric's hosility was too great and he resisted the mind trick. Now outnumbered and his defeat probable, the ogre mage chose to retreat. Like a rocket, he jetted into the sky, cursing and yelling out threats of vengeance until he became no more than a dot on the eastern horizon.
Of the once proud goblin tribe that had attempted to ransack Byron Valley, not enough were left to ransack an outhouse. There seemed little cause for celebration as the Beardians gathered around the black and blue corpse of their wizardly companion and Kerrac surveyed his decimated troops. Many had fallen in this war -- but not as many as might have if the orcs had won, and now, finally, Byron Valley was safe again.
At the same time, Andy and his warriors advanced hurridly on the necromancers' corpse pile and were greeted by three barbarian bodyguards. Though the druid was stalled, the other Beardians' attention had also been drawn to his target, and arrows came flying at the necromancers. The missiles flew past or bounced off their decorated armor as the necromancers started their work: the first cast a fine powder across the corpses and the second placed a dark gem into each of their skulls. As each gem was set, the skeleton of the corpse broke free of its charred flesh and stood tall, battleaxe in bony hand. The small undead army began its march towards the foe.
And then the other shoe dropped. On the cliff overlooking the whole battlefield, Dokt'mahn Haeten stretched out his hands and a gale of icy death hailed out. Something like three quarters of the Beardian-goblin army were caught in the blast -- most of the goblins were immediately frozen to death as was one unfortunate wizard. Chauncey the anonymous elf popsicle teetered over and smashed against the ground, icy bits of her breaking off as her lifeless face looked on in frozen horror. The ogre mage cackled and again rose into the sky.
Below, Eddi shrugged off the death of his comrade to focus on surviving himself. He slid down the cliff he'd been standing on overlooking the necromancers' activities and raised his holy symbol, the sign of Kord gleaming in the sunlight. That gleam turned into a white light that scorched the bones of the skeleton army, yet they continued to advance. In retaliation, one of the necromancers pointed at Eddi and the cleric felt his body go numb -- the now familiar feeling of a paralyzation spell.
Meanwhile, Andy and his goblins had taken heavy damage from Haeten's attack, and they retreated from the nearby barbarians. Now the barbarians' closest target was Eddi and they advanced quickly. Grunting, Kerrac, who'd been backing up the cleric, jumped down from the above cliff and launched his sword at the orcs. But by now one had already taken careful aim at the helpless Eddi and its axe came streaking down-- and then the cleric lay in pool of his blood, a gaping wound in his neck.
Now Andy and the remaining goblins were gathering upon the cliff overlooking this scene, the ogre mage all but forgotten as they tried to rescue their healer unit. As Kerrac struck down the orc who'd attacked Eddi, Andy joined him below -- the druid rushed to the cleric and reached out with a curing spell. Skin suddenly regrew over the neck wound and the bleeding stopped -- Eddi returned to his feet with a sigh of relief and his holy symbol in hand. He raised it again, and this time the light passed over his allies, whose wounds closed similarly. Crisis averted, he, Andy, and Kerrac now turned to the six skeletons surrounding them.
Above them, a group of surviving goblins squealed in terror as Dokt'mahn Haeten's greatsword cut through their ranks. Their leader, another hobgoblin like Kerrac, barked out commands at them -- to attack the skeletons below while he held off the ogre mage. As the hobgoblin valiently deflected Haeten's attacks, two of the goblins gave a battlecry and launched two flasks of acid at the undead nearing the cornered Eddi and Andy. The flasks broke against the bared bones, smoldering green liquid splashing over the group of them ...
And that was it. The last strength of the bones, already disintegrated partly by the holy light of Eddi's symbol, gave out under the acid and the skeletons fell apart at the Beardians' feet. Andy wiped the sweat from his brow.
The remaining threats were taken down swiftly. As the drama by the southern cliffside had unfolded, K'Phalvius and his entourage of archers had been sitting out of reach on the northern cliffs, methodically sniping away at orc stragglers and the necromancers, who finally fell to the missiles. All that were left were a couple barbarians and skeletons who had not fallen to the acid, but quickly did to the Beardians' next attacks.
Dokt'mahn Haeten made a last ditch effort to save the situation. He stood above Eddi and cooed magical words at the cleric, speaking out a charm spell, but the cleric's hosility was too great and he resisted the mind trick. Now outnumbered and his defeat probable, the ogre mage chose to retreat. Like a rocket, he jetted into the sky, cursing and yelling out threats of vengeance until he became no more than a dot on the eastern horizon.
Of the once proud goblin tribe that had attempted to ransack Byron Valley, not enough were left to ransack an outhouse. There seemed little cause for celebration as the Beardians gathered around the black and blue corpse of their wizardly companion and Kerrac surveyed his decimated troops. Many had fallen in this war -- but not as many as might have if the orcs had won, and now, finally, Byron Valley was safe again.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Session 9: The Battle at Byron Valley, part one
That night the Beardians slept snug in their beds, while visions of golden sugar plum fairies danced in their heads. If one listened hard, you might have thought you heard the jingle-jingling of sleigh bells in the night ... sleigh bells, or gold coins clinking together.
In the morning, Chauncey and an extremely hung-over Andy entered the main hall of Rammerdung's abode to discover a present for each of them beneath the Goldsmas tree. St. Nickleas had, it seemed, sensed the prescence of their good souls and left the gifts. Over the grumbling of their three neutral-aligned companions, the two unwrapped the boxes -- Chauncey put around her neck a necklace of adaptation, which would allow her to breathe in any environment, even underwater; while Andy held aloft a shiny new flametongue, a long sword with the ability to shoot fireballs.
The excitement of Goldsmas morning behind them, the Beardians turned to the matter of their mission. Rammerdung volunteered to show them the way to the surface (their outpost was nestled underground in the midst of the Maurick Mountains, a few miles from Byron Valley), but still refused to assist in the fight against the orcs. Still, the Beardians took the offer, certain that the tunnel back to the mine would lead into an orcish trap.
They reached the surface world, bid a holly jolly farewell to Rammerdung, and headed east down the mountains. Not enthused by the idea of returning to Kerrac and the villagers with their mission unaccomplished, Eddi suggested they bypass Byron Valley and return straight to the entrance of the mine to launch a second raid. The rest agreed. The plan was to maneuver south past the valley, crossing the road they had taken to get there in the first place, and travel west to find the mine again.
They'd spent four hours climbing down through the steep hills of the mountains by the time they reached the road. As it came into sight, a scream pierced the peacefulness of the forest, alerting the Beardians to the scene on the road below: two gnomes and a frightened horse cowered before three evil-looking orcs. At their feet lay the unmoving body of what was probably the gnomes' bodyguard. Eddi cursed as the memory returned to him: the gnomes were undoubtedly Bill Beard's family, for whom the Beardians were meant to the clear the road of dangers. They rushed down to save the gnomes, but were too late to stop one from falling to an orc's axe.
The Beardians fell into formation, rocking the bewildered orcs like a hurricane. Eddi barrelled down the hill, screaming at the top of his lungs, providing a distraction for the second gnome to flee the scene and hide in the cover of the forest. As the orcs moved against the cleric, Lucky popped out of thin air and struck at one, attacking its weak point for massive damage. The orcs stood no chance. As the rest of the Beardians mopped up, Eddi found the bodyguard and the injured gnome to be alive and used his divine magic to stabilize their wounds. Then he called out to the second gnome, introducing the Beardians as hirlings of their namesake.
At the sound of the name, the gnome, a boy of perhaps twenty years, came hesitantly forward. He'd obviously been mortified by the attack, but managed to introduce himself as Bob Beard, son of Bill Beard, and the other gnome as Brenda, his mother. The light of panic in his eyes, he gibbered out a request to be taken to his father. Eddi growled impatiently: here was yet another irrational obstacle to overcome just to deliver a barber to Burlingham. He snapped that the boy could go to the town himself, and die there!
Bob looked like he was going to cry. Andy put a hand on Eddi's shoulder and the cleric sighed in acknowledgement. They lifted the unconscious gnome and the bodyguard onto Bob's horsecart and lead them into the valley.
Once in town, there were many embarressed looks and much shuffling of feet as Kerrac approached with Bill in tow. The barber hurried his family off to the safety of the church while Kerrac spoke. He was scornful at first, pointing out their failure in the mission, but admitted that the results had not been completely disappointing. The Beardians had not only killed off a good portion of the orc's army, they had provided a long enough distraction for the goblins to set traps through the valley. The goblins' guerilla tactics had shortened the enemy's troops even more. Now, the orcs were marching on the town in a full-on attack, but Kerrac believed that, with the Beardians' help, the goblins could win even in open battle. Impatient to get the war over with, the Beardians agreed.
Kerrac explained the plan: each Beardian would be assigned two support troops from the ranks of hobgoblin fighters and goblin rangers, rogues, and warriors. K'Phalvius was backed by a couple of goblin archers, Andy by warriors, and so on. The two armies would meet in the fields east of the valley, where the orcs would be approaching the village. These fields were surrounded by hills and cliffs and goblin traps were scattered throughout the area. Kerrac was confident the battle would be won, and so the Beardians led their troops to the fields and into the fight.
In the middle of the hilly expanse of grass and brush, a barn stood tall against the sky. Beyond it, the Beardians could see the orcs gathering, and among them a familiar blue shape. Dokt'mahn Haeten, the ogre mage, glanced across at the awaiting army and grinned. His feet hung limply as they left the ground and he flew weightlessly into the air. He called out a warcry in orcish, then, in mid-air, vanished, certainly to attack when the Beardians were weakest. Below, the orcs bellowed a challenge that shook the cliffs in its volume. They charged across the field.
Hell broke loose. Not all of hell, but a good amount -- enough to make the scene dramatic. Many orcs actually fell to the goblins' well-placed traps and others to the archers' hail of arrows. Meanwhile, the Beardian army scrabbled to find the high ground in the fields. Eddi caught sight of an orc squad heading for the cover of the barn; he smiled grimly at his cleverness as he lit an arrow with flaming oil and fired at the hay in the building -- the fire spread quickly and the orcs scurried out. Chauncey, meanwhile, sent her support troops to hold the ground ahead to keep the enemy from reaching her. She waited patiently for the opportunity, then summoned an enormous fireball, burning four orc troops to ash.
With a mocking laugh, Dokt'mahn Haeten appeared in the air above her and lashed out with his eight-foot-long greatsword. The wizard's panicked cry alerted the other Beardians, and their troops moved swiftly on Haeten, but the mage's armor and aerobatics deflected most of their blows.
On a cliff overlooking the battleground, K'Phalvius watched with curiousity and horror as the orcs performed a strange maneuver: certain squads were gathering the dead and even charred bodies of their fellows and dumping them into a pile. As they performed the act of descecration, a singular orc dressed in what K'Phalvius now recognized as necromancer's robes approached the corpses. A chill ran down his spine as he realized what was about to happen.
Had Kerrac underestimated the strength of the orc army? Dokt'mahn Haeten was a wrecking ball on the battlefield, and that was bad enough -- now one or more necromancers had appeared to bolster the army's numbers. How could the Beardians win against a foe whose troops could be constantly replenished?
In the morning, Chauncey and an extremely hung-over Andy entered the main hall of Rammerdung's abode to discover a present for each of them beneath the Goldsmas tree. St. Nickleas had, it seemed, sensed the prescence of their good souls and left the gifts. Over the grumbling of their three neutral-aligned companions, the two unwrapped the boxes -- Chauncey put around her neck a necklace of adaptation, which would allow her to breathe in any environment, even underwater; while Andy held aloft a shiny new flametongue, a long sword with the ability to shoot fireballs.
The excitement of Goldsmas morning behind them, the Beardians turned to the matter of their mission. Rammerdung volunteered to show them the way to the surface (their outpost was nestled underground in the midst of the Maurick Mountains, a few miles from Byron Valley), but still refused to assist in the fight against the orcs. Still, the Beardians took the offer, certain that the tunnel back to the mine would lead into an orcish trap.
They reached the surface world, bid a holly jolly farewell to Rammerdung, and headed east down the mountains. Not enthused by the idea of returning to Kerrac and the villagers with their mission unaccomplished, Eddi suggested they bypass Byron Valley and return straight to the entrance of the mine to launch a second raid. The rest agreed. The plan was to maneuver south past the valley, crossing the road they had taken to get there in the first place, and travel west to find the mine again.
They'd spent four hours climbing down through the steep hills of the mountains by the time they reached the road. As it came into sight, a scream pierced the peacefulness of the forest, alerting the Beardians to the scene on the road below: two gnomes and a frightened horse cowered before three evil-looking orcs. At their feet lay the unmoving body of what was probably the gnomes' bodyguard. Eddi cursed as the memory returned to him: the gnomes were undoubtedly Bill Beard's family, for whom the Beardians were meant to the clear the road of dangers. They rushed down to save the gnomes, but were too late to stop one from falling to an orc's axe.
The Beardians fell into formation, rocking the bewildered orcs like a hurricane. Eddi barrelled down the hill, screaming at the top of his lungs, providing a distraction for the second gnome to flee the scene and hide in the cover of the forest. As the orcs moved against the cleric, Lucky popped out of thin air and struck at one, attacking its weak point for massive damage. The orcs stood no chance. As the rest of the Beardians mopped up, Eddi found the bodyguard and the injured gnome to be alive and used his divine magic to stabilize their wounds. Then he called out to the second gnome, introducing the Beardians as hirlings of their namesake.
At the sound of the name, the gnome, a boy of perhaps twenty years, came hesitantly forward. He'd obviously been mortified by the attack, but managed to introduce himself as Bob Beard, son of Bill Beard, and the other gnome as Brenda, his mother. The light of panic in his eyes, he gibbered out a request to be taken to his father. Eddi growled impatiently: here was yet another irrational obstacle to overcome just to deliver a barber to Burlingham. He snapped that the boy could go to the town himself, and die there!
Bob looked like he was going to cry. Andy put a hand on Eddi's shoulder and the cleric sighed in acknowledgement. They lifted the unconscious gnome and the bodyguard onto Bob's horsecart and lead them into the valley.
Once in town, there were many embarressed looks and much shuffling of feet as Kerrac approached with Bill in tow. The barber hurried his family off to the safety of the church while Kerrac spoke. He was scornful at first, pointing out their failure in the mission, but admitted that the results had not been completely disappointing. The Beardians had not only killed off a good portion of the orc's army, they had provided a long enough distraction for the goblins to set traps through the valley. The goblins' guerilla tactics had shortened the enemy's troops even more. Now, the orcs were marching on the town in a full-on attack, but Kerrac believed that, with the Beardians' help, the goblins could win even in open battle. Impatient to get the war over with, the Beardians agreed.
Kerrac explained the plan: each Beardian would be assigned two support troops from the ranks of hobgoblin fighters and goblin rangers, rogues, and warriors. K'Phalvius was backed by a couple of goblin archers, Andy by warriors, and so on. The two armies would meet in the fields east of the valley, where the orcs would be approaching the village. These fields were surrounded by hills and cliffs and goblin traps were scattered throughout the area. Kerrac was confident the battle would be won, and so the Beardians led their troops to the fields and into the fight.
In the middle of the hilly expanse of grass and brush, a barn stood tall against the sky. Beyond it, the Beardians could see the orcs gathering, and among them a familiar blue shape. Dokt'mahn Haeten, the ogre mage, glanced across at the awaiting army and grinned. His feet hung limply as they left the ground and he flew weightlessly into the air. He called out a warcry in orcish, then, in mid-air, vanished, certainly to attack when the Beardians were weakest. Below, the orcs bellowed a challenge that shook the cliffs in its volume. They charged across the field.
Hell broke loose. Not all of hell, but a good amount -- enough to make the scene dramatic. Many orcs actually fell to the goblins' well-placed traps and others to the archers' hail of arrows. Meanwhile, the Beardian army scrabbled to find the high ground in the fields. Eddi caught sight of an orc squad heading for the cover of the barn; he smiled grimly at his cleverness as he lit an arrow with flaming oil and fired at the hay in the building -- the fire spread quickly and the orcs scurried out. Chauncey, meanwhile, sent her support troops to hold the ground ahead to keep the enemy from reaching her. She waited patiently for the opportunity, then summoned an enormous fireball, burning four orc troops to ash.
With a mocking laugh, Dokt'mahn Haeten appeared in the air above her and lashed out with his eight-foot-long greatsword. The wizard's panicked cry alerted the other Beardians, and their troops moved swiftly on Haeten, but the mage's armor and aerobatics deflected most of their blows.
On a cliff overlooking the battleground, K'Phalvius watched with curiousity and horror as the orcs performed a strange maneuver: certain squads were gathering the dead and even charred bodies of their fellows and dumping them into a pile. As they performed the act of descecration, a singular orc dressed in what K'Phalvius now recognized as necromancer's robes approached the corpses. A chill ran down his spine as he realized what was about to happen.
Had Kerrac underestimated the strength of the orc army? Dokt'mahn Haeten was a wrecking ball on the battlefield, and that was bad enough -- now one or more necromancers had appeared to bolster the army's numbers. How could the Beardians win against a foe whose troops could be constantly replenished?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Session 8: Rammerdung
So, after running through Nigel's campaign, we have returned to the adventures of the Beardians, minus the aforementioned Nigel, unfortunately. You shall be missed, sir!
The updated player list is now:
Sango.....The DM
Adam.....K'Phalvius Hardun the half-elf ranger.
Andy.....Andy the anonymous human druid.
Brian.....Eddi the human cleric.
Chauncey.....Chauncey the anonymous elf wizard.
Sarah.....Elya "Lucky" Nearhit the halfling rogue.
During the session detailed in this post, Auren was handled by the DM, not Nigel.
Another major change was the switch from the Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 rulebooks to the Pathfinder rules. I elected to make the change to Pathfinder because it is actually an improved version of 3.5 and I had not heard flattering things about D&D 4E. This means there have been various changes to characters and their abilities and spells, some major, some minor. Also, since this is not exactly a D&D blog anymore, I've changed the name to The Beardian Blog.
Now, without further ado...
========
The ogre mage's evil laugh echoed through the furnace he'd disappeared into. As it faded, the Beardians gathered to assess the situation. Feeling quickly returned to Andy's limbs and he stumbled out of the receding paralysis; meanwhile, Eddi let out a burst of healing energy, relieving his comrades of their wounds.
The furnace was too small for most of the party to chase the ogre through (who, incidentally, had acquired the dreadful name of Dokt'mahn Haeten over the break), but Chauncey sent her feline familiar to scope it out. A chimney lead up to the bright afternoon sky, but the perceptive cat also found a small vent connecting to the oven of the bakery that Andy had found a couple hours earlier. After a moment, the cat reported back to its master -- it had seen Dokt'mahn Haeten ordering a mass of orcs to raid the room that the Beardians were in!
Eddi suggested expedient retreat and the vote was unanimous. They turned back the way they'd come, to the secret passage near the great stone door. As they neared it, a chill ran down the spines of all but the bravest -- echoing through the passage was an unearthly moaning, emanated by many voices. The orcish zombies staggering down the secret passage looked familiar to the Beardians and they realized they were the animated corpses of the orcs they had already killed. As Auren stepped forward, Eddi pulled him back and shook his head: their best chance was for the cleric to use his ability to channel divine energy to destroy the undead creatures. The zombies shambled around the corner and Eddi tensely waited until the closest was but a hair's breadth away before raising his holy symbol. A bright light shone forth with a white intensity, and as it passed over the zombies they crumbled to ash.
But the Beardians were not out of the fire yet. Andy, bringing up the rear farther back down the tunnel, suddenly notched his bow and cried to his fellows the existence of orcs -- lots of orcs, in fact. TOO MANY orcs. The druid counted fifteen and more coming before sprinting back to rejoin the rest of the party. Meanwhile, at the head of the group, more zombies had appeared along with their master, another orc cleric. Eddi used another holy energy burst, but did not roll as well this time -- the zombies continued to shamble forward, crying for brains. Auren stepped forward to smack down, but his fists seemed barely effective. His efforts were not helped by the orc cleric's attacks -- the monk had to duck and dodge as the orc summoned a magical spear to attack.
Lucky ducked into the space leading to the stone door. The movement caught Eddi's eye, and in the same moment he turned to check it the orc cleric cast a paralyzation spell on him. Frozen staring at the stone door, Eddi was the only Beardian to notice a mat covered in dust and earth lying at its base. It was a dainty little thing, actually, crafted from ancient straw that still held the maroon and azure pattern running along its border. Delicately knitted into the middle of the mat were the words, "Seek, friend, and enter."
The mat drew Andy's attention too. Desperate for a way out of the situation, he approached the door and ran his fingers across its frame and the intimidating lock, searching for the answer to the riddle. His eagle companion, taken in by its master's excitement, hopped down from his shoulder to grapple with the mat and managed to reveal a key hidden beneath it! Fast as a snake, Chauncey snatched the key from the triumphant raptor and thrust it into the lock. It turned easily and the door slowly swung open.
Andy, Chauncey, and Lucky dashed through the door, finding themselves in a long, narrow passage leading into distant darkness. Andy gave a flick of his hand and a magic flame appeared in his palm -- he called for the others to follow as he ran down the now illuminated corridor. The orcs had finally caught up to the group outside and K'Phalvius took some heavy damage as he scrabbled away. Eddi managed to struggle out of the paralysis spell and launched himself forward to hold them off as the half-elf made his escape. Finally, he and Auren were the last outside the door. Auren yelled out his concern for keeping the orcs from staying the door and Eddi replied that he had a plan.
Now, it must be understood at this point that Auren and Eddi had been at each others' throats since first meeting. This is something that, reviewing my previous posts, I seem to have neglected to emphasize. Auren's disciplined, static personality clashed drastically with Eddi's free and chaotic nature and neither had the goodwill to work out their differences. Discussion became a gridlock of arguments and each would frequently subvert the other's intentions, both in and out of battle. So it was not out of character, what Eddi did next.
The cleric grabbed Auren by the robes and hauled the astonished monk above his head. Bunching his muscles, he flung Auren at the orcs crowded into the passage, then skedaddled through the door. As he swung the door closed, K'Phalvius gaping at him, the last sound they two could hear was Auren screaming out vengeance above the warcries of the orcs -- then the door was closed and everything was a muffled cacophony.
Eddi's eyes rolled frantically as he announced the next problem: "Who has the key?!" Chauncey, far down the passage with the other two Beardians, gave a gasp of realization and sprinted back to the door. She tossed the key to the cleric who scrabbled to lock the door ... click! The Beardians held their breath for a tense moment ... and started slightly when the thumping and banging of the orcs against the other side began. Finally, they all gave out a sigh of relief. The great stone door was going to hold and they were safe for now.
Except, where was Auren? Lucky, Andy, and Chauncey had not seen Eddi's betrayal on the other side of the door. Eddi and K'Phalvius exchanged looks -- the undisciplined half-elf not been the monk's greatest ally, and he could not argue the effectiveness of Eddi's attempt to slow the orcs. Eddi turned back to his (good-aligned) comrades. Auren had stayed behind to hold them off, he said. Besides, he MIGHT still be alive...
The party took a moment to mourn their lost fellow, then turned to exploring the passage. They'd walked through pitch blackness for about a hundred feet before they encountered their first staircase, leading upwards. They continued to travel, taking a moment now and then to renew torches and light spells, for a whole four hours, moving upwards slowly but surely.
Finally, exhausted and demoralized, they spotted a faint light in the distance. Lucky crept forward, recognizing the lighted outline of another sturdy door. From within she could hear much deep-throated laughter -- guffawing, even -- but could not understand the language being spoken. She motioned Chauncey over, for the wizard had mastery of many languages, and she confirmed the voices to be speaking Dwarven. At that, Andy banged on the door and cried out, "Help! Orcs!" which prompted a lot of shouting and clanging of metal from within. The door swung open revealing four well-armored dwarves, and at least eight different axes between them, who demanded the location of the announced orcs. (The dwarves, I mean. That is, the dwarves demanded; not the axes.) Eddi stepped forth to explain the situation and hearing this the dwarves relaxed noticeably. "They will never get past the door; I helped build it meself!" claimed the lead dwarf, who shortly (ha) introduced himself as Rammerdung. This prompted some sniggering from the Beardians, which he either ignored or was oblivious to. "Rammerdung, meet K'Phalvius Hardun," said Eddi.
Rammerdung offered the dwarven abode for the Beardians to rest, much to their relief. He explained the place was an outpost of the nearby dwarven city of Quantran and that the post was a pretty sweet gig since they were rarely bothered by superiors from the city and infrequently saw any action. He seemed, perhaps, too comfortable with the position, for when the Beardians asked his assistance in defeating the orc army he became intent on worming his way out. "Well, we'd have to report back to Quantran, for acting without orders could mean our jobs..." It was obvious that the dwarves had no intention of abandoning their cushy abode, especially not to fight a powerful ogre mage.
Lucky, in the meantime, had been investigating a strangely placed fir tree sitting in a corner of the room. It was decorated with bits of precious metals, mostly gold. There was a lot of gold, particularly in the form of small globes hanging from the tree's branches. The greedy rogue had snatched one away when her hosts weren't looking, only to find that the gold was simply painted on. She caught the attention of Rammerdung, who was desperate to change the subject. "Admiring our Goldsmas tree, hey?"
He explained that this night was the eve of the famously celebrated dwarven holiday of Goldsmas, when good little dwarf boys and gir-- well, mostly just boys -- put up a Goldsmas tree with the expectation of the dwarf spirit St. Nickleas placing presents beneath it. The other holiday tradition was to get shit-faced. At this, Andy's eyes lit up and he asked what there was to drink.
The dwarves exchanged looks and chortles. "Sergoih's Shame! But no non-dwarf can handle this beastie!" One of them slammed a flagon of a thick, red liquid before the druid. Some of it spilled on the table and it ate clean through the wood. Andy looked ecstatic. "If I down this, does my picture get put on the wall of fame?" Rammerdung replied that he would deliver the portrait to the largest tavern in Quantran himself. But, he warned, "it is made from the lava-blood of the thoqqua, a fire elemental. It's also prone to spontaneous combustion. You will probably die. Or explode. Or both." He made sure to repeat this several times until Andy raised his cup and downed the whole thing in one go. His chair skidded and he fell comatose to the ground.
Eddi sighed and cast a healing spell to protect the unconscious man while the dwarves proceeded in further guffawing. With this, the Beardians turned in for the night, the sounds of Goldsmas carols ringing in their ears through the evening.
(Goldsmas carols are a lot like Christmas carols, but the subject is drastically different. Take, for example, the Goldsmas song, "Jingold Bells," which goes something like, "Gold gold gold, Gold gold gold, Gold gold gold gold gold // Gold gold gold gold gold gold gold, Gold gold gold gold gold gold, Hey!")
The updated player list is now:
Sango.....The DM
Adam.....K'Phalvius Hardun the half-elf ranger.
Andy.....Andy the anonymous human druid.
Brian.....Eddi the human cleric.
Chauncey.....Chauncey the anonymous elf wizard.
Sarah.....Elya "Lucky" Nearhit the halfling rogue.
During the session detailed in this post, Auren was handled by the DM, not Nigel.
Another major change was the switch from the Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 rulebooks to the Pathfinder rules. I elected to make the change to Pathfinder because it is actually an improved version of 3.5 and I had not heard flattering things about D&D 4E. This means there have been various changes to characters and their abilities and spells, some major, some minor. Also, since this is not exactly a D&D blog anymore, I've changed the name to The Beardian Blog.
Now, without further ado...
========
The ogre mage's evil laugh echoed through the furnace he'd disappeared into. As it faded, the Beardians gathered to assess the situation. Feeling quickly returned to Andy's limbs and he stumbled out of the receding paralysis; meanwhile, Eddi let out a burst of healing energy, relieving his comrades of their wounds.
The furnace was too small for most of the party to chase the ogre through (who, incidentally, had acquired the dreadful name of Dokt'mahn Haeten over the break), but Chauncey sent her feline familiar to scope it out. A chimney lead up to the bright afternoon sky, but the perceptive cat also found a small vent connecting to the oven of the bakery that Andy had found a couple hours earlier. After a moment, the cat reported back to its master -- it had seen Dokt'mahn Haeten ordering a mass of orcs to raid the room that the Beardians were in!
Eddi suggested expedient retreat and the vote was unanimous. They turned back the way they'd come, to the secret passage near the great stone door. As they neared it, a chill ran down the spines of all but the bravest -- echoing through the passage was an unearthly moaning, emanated by many voices. The orcish zombies staggering down the secret passage looked familiar to the Beardians and they realized they were the animated corpses of the orcs they had already killed. As Auren stepped forward, Eddi pulled him back and shook his head: their best chance was for the cleric to use his ability to channel divine energy to destroy the undead creatures. The zombies shambled around the corner and Eddi tensely waited until the closest was but a hair's breadth away before raising his holy symbol. A bright light shone forth with a white intensity, and as it passed over the zombies they crumbled to ash.
But the Beardians were not out of the fire yet. Andy, bringing up the rear farther back down the tunnel, suddenly notched his bow and cried to his fellows the existence of orcs -- lots of orcs, in fact. TOO MANY orcs. The druid counted fifteen and more coming before sprinting back to rejoin the rest of the party. Meanwhile, at the head of the group, more zombies had appeared along with their master, another orc cleric. Eddi used another holy energy burst, but did not roll as well this time -- the zombies continued to shamble forward, crying for brains. Auren stepped forward to smack down, but his fists seemed barely effective. His efforts were not helped by the orc cleric's attacks -- the monk had to duck and dodge as the orc summoned a magical spear to attack.
Lucky ducked into the space leading to the stone door. The movement caught Eddi's eye, and in the same moment he turned to check it the orc cleric cast a paralyzation spell on him. Frozen staring at the stone door, Eddi was the only Beardian to notice a mat covered in dust and earth lying at its base. It was a dainty little thing, actually, crafted from ancient straw that still held the maroon and azure pattern running along its border. Delicately knitted into the middle of the mat were the words, "Seek, friend, and enter."
The mat drew Andy's attention too. Desperate for a way out of the situation, he approached the door and ran his fingers across its frame and the intimidating lock, searching for the answer to the riddle. His eagle companion, taken in by its master's excitement, hopped down from his shoulder to grapple with the mat and managed to reveal a key hidden beneath it! Fast as a snake, Chauncey snatched the key from the triumphant raptor and thrust it into the lock. It turned easily and the door slowly swung open.
Andy, Chauncey, and Lucky dashed through the door, finding themselves in a long, narrow passage leading into distant darkness. Andy gave a flick of his hand and a magic flame appeared in his palm -- he called for the others to follow as he ran down the now illuminated corridor. The orcs had finally caught up to the group outside and K'Phalvius took some heavy damage as he scrabbled away. Eddi managed to struggle out of the paralysis spell and launched himself forward to hold them off as the half-elf made his escape. Finally, he and Auren were the last outside the door. Auren yelled out his concern for keeping the orcs from staying the door and Eddi replied that he had a plan.
Now, it must be understood at this point that Auren and Eddi had been at each others' throats since first meeting. This is something that, reviewing my previous posts, I seem to have neglected to emphasize. Auren's disciplined, static personality clashed drastically with Eddi's free and chaotic nature and neither had the goodwill to work out their differences. Discussion became a gridlock of arguments and each would frequently subvert the other's intentions, both in and out of battle. So it was not out of character, what Eddi did next.
The cleric grabbed Auren by the robes and hauled the astonished monk above his head. Bunching his muscles, he flung Auren at the orcs crowded into the passage, then skedaddled through the door. As he swung the door closed, K'Phalvius gaping at him, the last sound they two could hear was Auren screaming out vengeance above the warcries of the orcs -- then the door was closed and everything was a muffled cacophony.
Eddi's eyes rolled frantically as he announced the next problem: "Who has the key?!" Chauncey, far down the passage with the other two Beardians, gave a gasp of realization and sprinted back to the door. She tossed the key to the cleric who scrabbled to lock the door ... click! The Beardians held their breath for a tense moment ... and started slightly when the thumping and banging of the orcs against the other side began. Finally, they all gave out a sigh of relief. The great stone door was going to hold and they were safe for now.
Except, where was Auren? Lucky, Andy, and Chauncey had not seen Eddi's betrayal on the other side of the door. Eddi and K'Phalvius exchanged looks -- the undisciplined half-elf not been the monk's greatest ally, and he could not argue the effectiveness of Eddi's attempt to slow the orcs. Eddi turned back to his (good-aligned) comrades. Auren had stayed behind to hold them off, he said. Besides, he MIGHT still be alive...
The party took a moment to mourn their lost fellow, then turned to exploring the passage. They'd walked through pitch blackness for about a hundred feet before they encountered their first staircase, leading upwards. They continued to travel, taking a moment now and then to renew torches and light spells, for a whole four hours, moving upwards slowly but surely.
Finally, exhausted and demoralized, they spotted a faint light in the distance. Lucky crept forward, recognizing the lighted outline of another sturdy door. From within she could hear much deep-throated laughter -- guffawing, even -- but could not understand the language being spoken. She motioned Chauncey over, for the wizard had mastery of many languages, and she confirmed the voices to be speaking Dwarven. At that, Andy banged on the door and cried out, "Help! Orcs!" which prompted a lot of shouting and clanging of metal from within. The door swung open revealing four well-armored dwarves, and at least eight different axes between them, who demanded the location of the announced orcs. (The dwarves, I mean. That is, the dwarves demanded; not the axes.) Eddi stepped forth to explain the situation and hearing this the dwarves relaxed noticeably. "They will never get past the door; I helped build it meself!" claimed the lead dwarf, who shortly (ha) introduced himself as Rammerdung. This prompted some sniggering from the Beardians, which he either ignored or was oblivious to. "Rammerdung, meet K'Phalvius Hardun," said Eddi.
Rammerdung offered the dwarven abode for the Beardians to rest, much to their relief. He explained the place was an outpost of the nearby dwarven city of Quantran and that the post was a pretty sweet gig since they were rarely bothered by superiors from the city and infrequently saw any action. He seemed, perhaps, too comfortable with the position, for when the Beardians asked his assistance in defeating the orc army he became intent on worming his way out. "Well, we'd have to report back to Quantran, for acting without orders could mean our jobs..." It was obvious that the dwarves had no intention of abandoning their cushy abode, especially not to fight a powerful ogre mage.
Lucky, in the meantime, had been investigating a strangely placed fir tree sitting in a corner of the room. It was decorated with bits of precious metals, mostly gold. There was a lot of gold, particularly in the form of small globes hanging from the tree's branches. The greedy rogue had snatched one away when her hosts weren't looking, only to find that the gold was simply painted on. She caught the attention of Rammerdung, who was desperate to change the subject. "Admiring our Goldsmas tree, hey?"
He explained that this night was the eve of the famously celebrated dwarven holiday of Goldsmas, when good little dwarf boys and gir-- well, mostly just boys -- put up a Goldsmas tree with the expectation of the dwarf spirit St. Nickleas placing presents beneath it. The other holiday tradition was to get shit-faced. At this, Andy's eyes lit up and he asked what there was to drink.
The dwarves exchanged looks and chortles. "Sergoih's Shame! But no non-dwarf can handle this beastie!" One of them slammed a flagon of a thick, red liquid before the druid. Some of it spilled on the table and it ate clean through the wood. Andy looked ecstatic. "If I down this, does my picture get put on the wall of fame?" Rammerdung replied that he would deliver the portrait to the largest tavern in Quantran himself. But, he warned, "it is made from the lava-blood of the thoqqua, a fire elemental. It's also prone to spontaneous combustion. You will probably die. Or explode. Or both." He made sure to repeat this several times until Andy raised his cup and downed the whole thing in one go. His chair skidded and he fell comatose to the ground.
Eddi sighed and cast a healing spell to protect the unconscious man while the dwarves proceeded in further guffawing. With this, the Beardians turned in for the night, the sounds of Goldsmas carols ringing in their ears through the evening.
(Goldsmas carols are a lot like Christmas carols, but the subject is drastically different. Take, for example, the Goldsmas song, "Jingold Bells," which goes something like, "Gold gold gold, Gold gold gold, Gold gold gold gold gold // Gold gold gold gold gold gold gold, Gold gold gold gold gold gold, Hey!")
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Troghob the half-orc cleric
So, the current campaign is being cryogenically frozen for a short period while we switch to a campaign penned by Nigel. That will start this week. I'm not actually sure if I'll be keeping a record of it since that activity was partly a task I assigned myself as DM. We'll see, but I DID think it would be cool to post the bio I wrote up for the character I'll be playing.
It's, maybe, a little cliche for a half-orc, but I tried to make things interesting by making him a patron of St. Cuthbert. Anyway, I've never played as or with a half-orc in any game, so gimme a break. The bio's a little ham-handed, or heavy-handed, or both, but it was fun to write up and I think it turned out okay.
It's, maybe, a little cliche for a half-orc, but I tried to make things interesting by making him a patron of St. Cuthbert. Anyway, I've never played as or with a half-orc in any game, so gimme a break. The bio's a little ham-handed, or heavy-handed, or both, but it was fun to write up and I think it turned out okay.
The pillaging and raping of orcish warbands upon human settlements is not unheard of, but truly uncommon is the human woman who survives to bear a child of such an encounter. Such was Elmma, who found herself the mother of a half-orc baby boy. Soon after the birth, the father, a barbaric warrior named Trogh, returned to claim his stake, hauling off the mother and child to his tribe -- to her dismay and, honestly, the relief of Elmma's village.
The child was named Troghob in honor of his father and welcomed into the tribe as one of their own. As he grew, he engaged in orcish brawls and their typical sadomasochistic traditions. Though the boy was not as strong as the true orcs of his age, he showed strong comprehension and perceptions well beyond the mentality of a normal child, never mind of a common orc. Despite his lack of strength compared to his compatriots he would usually defeat any challenger through a mix of brute force and superior cunning. This fact, along with a display of leadership qualities in his character, paved the way towards a future as a great chief among the orcs.
This alarmed Elmma. The mother had lived these years as a slave to Trogh, who despite everything was not unkind to her and allowed her to have a say in the raising of his child -- perhaps he realized her human advice was what allowed Troghob to excel as quickly as he did. But Elmma had given this advice to protect her son, to keep him alive in the brutal world of orc culture. She had not expected him to become a leader, to make the evil tribe a stronger, more powerful force. Finally the shoe dropped: Troghob led his first raid, upon his mother's settlement no less. He returned gleefully to Elmma, proudly displaying to her his trophy -- the disembodied head of the human village chief.
Horrified, Elmma immediately initiated a plot to escape. As the bright afternoon sun bore its wretched light, so despised by the orcs, upon their camp, she managed to murder Trogh and sedate Troghob. She stole a pair of horses and bound Troghob to one, then rode as fast as she could as far as she could.
They had traveled many miles by the time Troghob woke. The boy roared and thrashed in his bonds, but Elmma had used strong rope to ensure that he could not escape. She came to his side and soon Troghob's rage-filled shouts had quieted as the emotion of his mother's sobs overtook him. She had explained the concept of good and evil to her son many times, and he was familiar with the lecture but had ignored it up to this point. Now, somehow, his gift of perception had finally allowed him to empathize with Elmma's message.
Elmma had kept the bestial nature of her son at bay, but she knew she had not tamed it. She decided only a greater power might perform the task and brought Troghob to a church of St. Cuthbert. Though the half-orc's appearance and nature might have dissuaded other organizations, the Chapeaux of this church were intent on converting as many as possible to the will of Cuthbert. They took the task on as a challenge. Thus the half-orc's re-education began under the watchful eye of his mother.
The teachings of the priests were about as far from the barbaric lifestyle of the orcs as possible and Troghob did not have an easy time adjusting. Other than his teachers, the clergy shunned him. He was unused to discipline and fits of violent rage were usually the punctuation of any seminar he attended. Nevertheless, he found himself intrigued by the nature of St. Cuthbert's teachings: the deity's uncompromising, vengeful character was very orcish in a way, but balanced by a high value of common sense, wisdom, and the pursuit of knowledge. Though intolerant of most of his colleagues at the church, Troghob believed he had found a like mind and ally in St. Cuthbert. His outbursts grew more infrequent and he gradually accepted the role of a quiet loner, trusting in only his mother and a few good teachers and friends.
By the time he was sixteen, Elmma believed the beast within her son had been tamed. It was around this time that raids by the savage races on the frontier settlements began to escalate. Able-bodied men were called on to assist in the protection of the lands, and the Chapeaux agreed to provide paladins and clerics in the fight. For Troghob, now a minor cleric, the opportunity was a no-brainer: despite his re-education, the lust for combat was in his blood, and anything was better than rotting away in the church.
Of course, there was also the possibility that he might encounter orcs again, perhaps even his old tribe, but the half-orc looked forward to meeting his former brethren on the battlefield. Secretly, he yearned to return to that way of life, curious how he would find it now, with all that he'd learned under St. Cuthbert. But it was his devotion to the deity that kept him on the human side of the fight. And he fought well -- he played a major part in several battles along the frontier, equally apt at offense as defense, cleaving his way through the evil hordes and magically healing his fellow soldiers. His understanding of orc tactics made him a core advisor to captains and generals, but few publically acknowledged his help. His presence among the humans, therefore, had a mixed effect: though his (often successful) efforts to win the fights garnered a number of empathizers and personal friends among both ground troops and officers, the majority of his "comrades" could not overcome their prejudice against his ethnicity. At the best of times he was treated as someone with an embarrassing disability; mostly he was simply ignored as an outcast; and then there were the "accidents" -- friendly fire on the battlefield because fellows supposedly couldn't tell him apart from the enemy, personal attacks and brawls in the camps reported as "initiated by the orc's savage temper," etc. -- usually resolved by a minor reprimand for all parties involved.
Ultimately, it was too much. The only thing tying Troghob to the humans was his loyalty to St. Cuthbert and he wasn't sure they deserved the deity's protection. He decided, therefore, to seek out and rejoin his old tribe and attempt to introduce them to the teachings of Cuthbert. This prospect excited him -- perhaps, if he could convert the orcs into a lawful, sensible society worthy of St. Cuthbert's attention, orc and human culture would somehow merge. The more he considered this, the more he was excited, and he became convinced that this was his life's work.
The orcs were surprisingly acceptant of him -- he had become known as a fearful enemy, but this itself was enough to impress the tribe. The half-orc understood this and knew that for his teachings to be heard, he'd have to adapt them to offer something that orcs would desire. So, he promised the things that the creatures loved: victory, glory, riches, all in the name of St. Cuthbert. He formed a convent from the tribe's most intelligent individuals, a convent that effectively became a military committee. Troghob knew that the best example he could give orcs of Cuthbert's teachings in action was their favorite pastime: war.
So, for a time, he fought on the other side of the same war, just as effectively slaughtering his former human allies as he had once slaughtered former orc allies. This, he felt, was a necessary evil for a greater good. If he could convert the orcs, then they might learn to understand the human perspective that his mother had taught him.
But as he grew older and spent more time with the orcs he realized his effort had been doomed from the start. Yes, the orcs operated better in battle under his command, with wisdom, organization, and strategy guiding their attacks, but they had learned nothing; eliminate his leadership from the equation and they were again little more than savages. And the result of the victories hadn't changed. Prisoners and innocents were thoughtlessly slaughtered, land and crops taken were desecrated without consideration of future use, and there was constant in-fighting. Climbing the ranks in orcish tradition was, after all, a matter of killing your superior and claiming his position. Despite the fact that he was the sole reason for their good fortune in battle, Troghob's authority was constantly challenged so that he had to deflect hidden assassins and legitimate challengers on almost a weekly basis.
One particularly intelligent member of the convent, Grooku, was smart enough to realize that such base attempts to claim Troghob's position were experiments in failure. Instead, he secretly launched a smear campaign, claiming the half-orc's human blood was a weakness that would ultimately drive the orcs to ruin. For a month these rumors grew and prospered among the tribe and encouraged more would-be challengers and assassins then ever. Life in the tribe had become a nightmare for Troghob.
Finally the stew came to a boil. Troghob led yet another raid to victory on the human settlements, but the spoils of war included a tragic surprise. Elmma had traveled to the settlements in search of her son and had been trapped in the attack. Now, amongst the corpses in the streets, Troghob recognized a face.
Orcs do not have tear ducts and the water leaking from the half-orc's eyes as he fell to his knees was just the weakness that Grooku needed to play his hand. He cried out against the leader and received a cacophony of mutinous agreements.
Troghob could feel the contempt radiating from his once-followers. It mingled with his grief and flowed with hatred for Grooku and his evil talk. The negative energy running through his mind and body ebbed violently against his resolve and ate away at his sensibility. He could felt nothing but anger. His conscious mind slipped away and he fell into a bloodrage.
He awoke an indeterminable amount of time later at an unknown location remembering nothing of the bloodrage, but none of these details mattered. For weeks he wandered the wilderness, surviving like an animal, carrying only shredded clothes and the holy symbol of St. Cuthbert. One day found him close to starvation. He came across a quiet hamlet and was desperate enough to beg its residents for food at the risk of being killed on sight as an orc. To his good fortune, the villagers, mostly halflings and humans, opened their doors to him -- a half-elf named Sharon particularly taking pity on him. She invited him into her home and insisted he remain until he returned to good health.
St. Cuthbert demanded that a good deed deserved another in exchange. As Troghob's strength returned, he began to assist Sharon in the fields. There he mingled with the other villagers, and found himself quickly accepted. This was a new situation for him: humans and like races has always shunned him, while among orcs he was never anything less than a leader. His life had always been full of battle and antagonism; now, in this quiet sanctuary, he felt at peace.
It would not last long. His orcish blood continually longed for battle, so a peaceful life could not be his destiny. The itch now plagued him and he began to go on long treks into the wild, hunting ferocious predators to battle. This behavior worried even the carefree villagers, though they were too polite to say anything of it. Then, Troghob returned from one such trip to find a crowd outside Sharon's door and the half-elf bleeding heavily into the sheets of her bed.
There had been an accident in the field. She was injured beyond the care of conventional medicine. Troghob had been trained as a cleric. There was only one thing to do. The half-orc raised his holy symbol, uttering a prayer to the saint, and placed a healing hand upon the woman's wound. But as the cure spell formed, Troghob realized that something was very wrong. Before he could react, dark energy crackled out along Sharon's body from his contact point and the half-elf screamed in high-pitched agony. Even as he broke contact and stepped away she writhed as if experiencing uncontrollable pain. This went on for several seconds, enough time to gather the onlookers, before Sharon slumped lifeless into the mattress.
Perhaps the villagers would not have attacked Troghob or run him out of town. Perhaps they would have understood that he had no control over what had transpired. Perhaps, with time, he would have been forgiven. But Troghob would never know, for as the onlookers gaped silently in horror at their fallen neighbor, the half-orc was already dashing out of the hamlet. A peaceful life could not be his destiny. He understood exactly what had happened. He had used the name of his deity to lead a campaign of evil, to kill innocents, to destroy order, and now St. Cuthbert had taken his revenge. The half-orc would no longer be allowed to use his divine magic to help or heal, only to hurt and destroy.
Troghob understood now that he could not live in either society, man's nor orc's. He was a man, he was an orc, yet he was neither; as true an outcast as it was possible to be.
He became a wanderer, and then an adventurer, living on the fringes of civilization. Eventually, St. Cuthbert returned some of his healing abilities -- if he prayed specifically for such magic at the beginning of a day he sometimes received it in limited amounts. But whenever he performed an evil act or considered chaotic thoughts, the deity transformed the healing powers into harmful ones. And so Troghob's life became, or perhaps it had always been, a delicate balance between extremes -- good and evil, law and chaos, man and orc.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Lucky Week Slevin
At the sound of the orc attacking Lucky, Auren dashed into the room, bowling over Eddi as the cleric tried to hold him back, insisting that the Beardians should stick to their plan. The monk ignored him and found his way through the back of the room to flank the offending orc. With their cover blown, the Beardians piled into the room, picking out the third of the orcs Lucky had spotted standing on a ledge. The flanked orc tried one last time, and failed, to land a blow on Lucky before sliding down one of the mining chutes to the ground. But, Auren was right on his tail and lashed out with his feet of fury, taking the orc's head in the process. The last orc, surrounded but undaunted, was still easily disposed of.
Some of the Beardians eyed this orc's gear -- the party was not above robbing corpses. A pair of longbows was dispersed between Andy the anonymous druid and Eddi, who handed-me-down his shortbow to Lucky. Eddi also traded in his breezy, summery, and very in-fashion chain shirt for one of the orcs' breastplates, one with intricately detailed abs, perhaps with the hope of future closet encounters.
The room was a dead end. As the party gathered to turn back, a small solitary platform caught the eye of K'Phalivus. He asked Lucky to investigate it, assuming that, as a rogue, she would have a high Search score. Lucky, enforcing stereotypes, discovered a secret door, only by running her fingers across the wall and finding the hidden door-frame. She cautiously opened it, discovering a passage large enough for the party to travel through single file. The passage ran a long way through darkness and after many tense minutes of expecting various horrors to snatch her away, Lucky reached its end, which opened up into a small corridor. To her left was a sturdy stone door, so resolute in its dooriness that the rogue doubted even her lock-picking skills could open it. To her right, the corridor opened into a room, and in that room was, surprise, a pair of orcs. Emboldened by the rest of the Beardians coming up behind her, the halfling launched a javelin at the first enemy and proceeded to scurry in the opposite direction fast as her little legs could take her. The rest of the party took over and as the first orc quickly gave up the ghost, the second dashed off into the darkness ahead even faster than Lucky had.
The Beardians strained into the room, another work area of the mine, and were instantly dazzled by what they saw. There, right there, where they could so easily just reach out and grab a handful and stuff it in their bags, was a big old pile of gold. Impressively, the first word to be emitted from a party member was, Trap. Lucky again became the most important member of the party, but, strangely, didn't find any hint of threatening devices. The Beardians exchanged glances, then dug in.
Buried beneath the coins was a wand, a scroll, and a potion. Eddi and Chauncey the anonymous wizard, the group's chief magic-users, managed to decipher the scroll and the markings on the wand: the scroll contained a divine spell, Faerie Fire, and the wand could cast the spell Levitate and had 31 charges left! The potion remained a mystery, until Eddi shrugged, decreed, "Bottom's up!" and gulped everything in the vial. He promptly vanished and the potion was discovered to be an invisibility potion, all thanks to the scientific method. God bless science!
Meanwhile, Lucky was, once again, scouting ahead. The cowardly orc had fled down another narrow mineshaft and, strangely, there was light emanating from the end of it. She peeked into the room at the end and saw a scene not unlike that which Charles Dickens must have envisioned when Scrooge met the enormous Ghost of Christmas Present in his living room ... only replace living room with dwarven forge and the Ghost of Christmas Present with an ogre mage staring right into Lucky's eyes. The ogre chuckled as the halfling skirted away and bellowed at his orcish lackeys to follow her.
Back in the mineshaft, Lucky ducked behind Auren, who leaped Bruce Lee-style at the nearest orc. As the monk played meatshield, the Beardians scrambled about behind him, tossing whatever they could at the monsters, who appeared to nonetheless keep coming. Finally the orcs fell and the party collectively breathed a sigh of relief -- too soon, as another orc, this one in garnished robes (garnished for an orc, at least) stepped into the mineshaft and, chanting weirdly, placed a gemstone in each of his allies' corpses. The corpses stood up.
Auren had been waiting for this. He had been waiting a long time. As his fists thudded into undead flesh he reflected on his life up to this point and decided, that yes, his singular earthly calling was to beat up zombies. Nonetheless, the creatures were quickly overpowering him and the rest of the Beardians urged him to back up into the open room where they were waiting. The zombies shambled after and found themselves surrounded and, very soon, utterly destroyed. As a zombie head groaned its last request for braaaaiiins, the invisible Eddi crept silently down the mineshaft until he could see the forge. The orc necromancer was not to be seen, but this was not unexpected -- he was probably ducking behind one of the room's many hiding places. What was strange was the disappearance of the giant ogre mage! The ogre was large, yes, and not just that -- he was... blue! Blue is a rather easy color to spot. Still, Eddi characteristically threw caution to the wind, and barreled as fast as he could into the room. In the instant he left the mineshaft, something blinked into existence to his left -- a blue form levered a sword twice the size of the cleric where he'd been a split-second before. Then, as quickly as the ogre mage had appeared, he was gone. Eddi cursed his blessing -- the invisibility spell that now protected him was also in the mage's use.
The others, having seen the little magic show, advanced technically. Technically, because none of them really wanted to be in the same room as a giant invisible mage: the group as a whole was technically advancing, while each member sought to be the farthest from the end of the passage. The advance, therefore, was by means of a slowly elongating huddle. (To quote Terry Pratchett.) Finally, Andy got up the nerves to charge into the room, where he found the necromancer chanting weirdly again. The druid's limbs began to stiffen and he realized the orc had cast a paralyzation spell on him. As he yearned for the safety of the mineshaft, he watched the ogre mage appear again and cast a devastating ice attack down the mineshaft, doing major damage to the trapped occupants. Perhaps paralyzation wasn't so bad.
As the necromancer had launched his assault, Eddi had finally un-vanished behind him. The cleric levered his greatsword and then, before the orc could react, reached out with a hand buzzing electrically with dark energy. The Inflict Wounds spell was so powerful that the orc's body instinctively decided that exploding apart would be less painful. It wasn't, but by that time it was too late. Flesh scattered across the room.
The death of his final guard seemed to dishearten the ogre mage. He sneered at the Beardians and stepped away. The party watched as the mage's feet, then legs, then torso and head transformed into ogre-shaped vapor. The ogre-cloud flew through the room and entered a large furnace -- the centerpiece of the forge. He disappeared from sight.
The Beardians had, in vague terms, won the battle. But their mission to assassinate the ogre mage was yet uncompleted and the many intense battles of the last two hours had exhausted them. With Andy a living statue, Lucky badly frostbitten by the ice spell, both magic-users short on spells, and general orcish axe-induced injuries all around, the party wondered morbidly if they would survive the trip back to the surface...
Some of the Beardians eyed this orc's gear -- the party was not above robbing corpses. A pair of longbows was dispersed between Andy the anonymous druid and Eddi, who handed-me-down his shortbow to Lucky. Eddi also traded in his breezy, summery, and very in-fashion chain shirt for one of the orcs' breastplates, one with intricately detailed abs, perhaps with the hope of future closet encounters.
The room was a dead end. As the party gathered to turn back, a small solitary platform caught the eye of K'Phalivus. He asked Lucky to investigate it, assuming that, as a rogue, she would have a high Search score. Lucky, enforcing stereotypes, discovered a secret door, only by running her fingers across the wall and finding the hidden door-frame. She cautiously opened it, discovering a passage large enough for the party to travel through single file. The passage ran a long way through darkness and after many tense minutes of expecting various horrors to snatch her away, Lucky reached its end, which opened up into a small corridor. To her left was a sturdy stone door, so resolute in its dooriness that the rogue doubted even her lock-picking skills could open it. To her right, the corridor opened into a room, and in that room was, surprise, a pair of orcs. Emboldened by the rest of the Beardians coming up behind her, the halfling launched a javelin at the first enemy and proceeded to scurry in the opposite direction fast as her little legs could take her. The rest of the party took over and as the first orc quickly gave up the ghost, the second dashed off into the darkness ahead even faster than Lucky had.
The Beardians strained into the room, another work area of the mine, and were instantly dazzled by what they saw. There, right there, where they could so easily just reach out and grab a handful and stuff it in their bags, was a big old pile of gold. Impressively, the first word to be emitted from a party member was, Trap. Lucky again became the most important member of the party, but, strangely, didn't find any hint of threatening devices. The Beardians exchanged glances, then dug in.
Buried beneath the coins was a wand, a scroll, and a potion. Eddi and Chauncey the anonymous wizard, the group's chief magic-users, managed to decipher the scroll and the markings on the wand: the scroll contained a divine spell, Faerie Fire, and the wand could cast the spell Levitate and had 31 charges left! The potion remained a mystery, until Eddi shrugged, decreed, "Bottom's up!" and gulped everything in the vial. He promptly vanished and the potion was discovered to be an invisibility potion, all thanks to the scientific method. God bless science!
Meanwhile, Lucky was, once again, scouting ahead. The cowardly orc had fled down another narrow mineshaft and, strangely, there was light emanating from the end of it. She peeked into the room at the end and saw a scene not unlike that which Charles Dickens must have envisioned when Scrooge met the enormous Ghost of Christmas Present in his living room ... only replace living room with dwarven forge and the Ghost of Christmas Present with an ogre mage staring right into Lucky's eyes. The ogre chuckled as the halfling skirted away and bellowed at his orcish lackeys to follow her.
Back in the mineshaft, Lucky ducked behind Auren, who leaped Bruce Lee-style at the nearest orc. As the monk played meatshield, the Beardians scrambled about behind him, tossing whatever they could at the monsters, who appeared to nonetheless keep coming. Finally the orcs fell and the party collectively breathed a sigh of relief -- too soon, as another orc, this one in garnished robes (garnished for an orc, at least) stepped into the mineshaft and, chanting weirdly, placed a gemstone in each of his allies' corpses. The corpses stood up.
Auren had been waiting for this. He had been waiting a long time. As his fists thudded into undead flesh he reflected on his life up to this point and decided, that yes, his singular earthly calling was to beat up zombies. Nonetheless, the creatures were quickly overpowering him and the rest of the Beardians urged him to back up into the open room where they were waiting. The zombies shambled after and found themselves surrounded and, very soon, utterly destroyed. As a zombie head groaned its last request for braaaaiiins, the invisible Eddi crept silently down the mineshaft until he could see the forge. The orc necromancer was not to be seen, but this was not unexpected -- he was probably ducking behind one of the room's many hiding places. What was strange was the disappearance of the giant ogre mage! The ogre was large, yes, and not just that -- he was... blue! Blue is a rather easy color to spot. Still, Eddi characteristically threw caution to the wind, and barreled as fast as he could into the room. In the instant he left the mineshaft, something blinked into existence to his left -- a blue form levered a sword twice the size of the cleric where he'd been a split-second before. Then, as quickly as the ogre mage had appeared, he was gone. Eddi cursed his blessing -- the invisibility spell that now protected him was also in the mage's use.
The others, having seen the little magic show, advanced technically. Technically, because none of them really wanted to be in the same room as a giant invisible mage: the group as a whole was technically advancing, while each member sought to be the farthest from the end of the passage. The advance, therefore, was by means of a slowly elongating huddle. (To quote Terry Pratchett.) Finally, Andy got up the nerves to charge into the room, where he found the necromancer chanting weirdly again. The druid's limbs began to stiffen and he realized the orc had cast a paralyzation spell on him. As he yearned for the safety of the mineshaft, he watched the ogre mage appear again and cast a devastating ice attack down the mineshaft, doing major damage to the trapped occupants. Perhaps paralyzation wasn't so bad.
As the necromancer had launched his assault, Eddi had finally un-vanished behind him. The cleric levered his greatsword and then, before the orc could react, reached out with a hand buzzing electrically with dark energy. The Inflict Wounds spell was so powerful that the orc's body instinctively decided that exploding apart would be less painful. It wasn't, but by that time it was too late. Flesh scattered across the room.
The death of his final guard seemed to dishearten the ogre mage. He sneered at the Beardians and stepped away. The party watched as the mage's feet, then legs, then torso and head transformed into ogre-shaped vapor. The ogre-cloud flew through the room and entered a large furnace -- the centerpiece of the forge. He disappeared from sight.
The Beardians had, in vague terms, won the battle. But their mission to assassinate the ogre mage was yet uncompleted and the many intense battles of the last two hours had exhausted them. With Andy a living statue, Lucky badly frostbitten by the ice spell, both magic-users short on spells, and general orcish axe-induced injuries all around, the party wondered morbidly if they would survive the trip back to the surface...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Week VI: The Undiscovered Country
With the orc guards behind them and a sea of corpses, or at least a shallow lake, at their feet, the party recollected themselves. It occurred to the narrator that it would be so much easier if the party had a group name to refer to them by, like The Orc-Slayers, The Happenstancers, or the Bill Beardians. Yeah, actually, from now on the narrator will refer to a party member as a Beardian, for clarity's sake.
So, the Beardians were standing around healing each other, right? Then they got bored and began to actually explore the dungeon, which, in the Beardian frame of mind, was apparently best performed by rushing headlong into pitch black darkness. Luckily, orcs didn't seem to be the best trap-setters and much ground was covered in a short time. The decrepit ruins of the dwarven mine were, in fact, ruined, with cave-ins and chunks of fire-damaged debris scattered about, suggesting some sort of disaster that must have occurred some time ago. The passages leading east to -- according to Elder Wilhelm's map -- the cafeteria and brewery were discovered. Lucky, exploring the old dorms to the south, found a spare dagger hidden in a dwarven bunk-bed (the bed being somewhat novel, since the second bunk was beneath the ground-level one -- classic dwarven thinking). Andy the anonymous druid explored the former bakery, finding a large cave-in cutting off a part of the chamber. From the other side he could make out voices, but they were too muffled to make out traces of words or language. He also discovered a large oven with a hole leading out from the back, large enough for a small creature to squeeze through. He began to send his anonymous eagle in to explore -- the bird could only make out darkness from as far as it went.
Some of the Beardians were strangely drawn to a closet down a western passage: Eddi went in first, then as K'Phalvius followed the only sound heard was Eddi saying something about seven minutes in heaven before the cleric locked the closet door from the inside.
Meanwhile, Chauncey the anonymous wizard, who'd appeared inexplicably for no apparent reason and had been immediately accepted as a Beardian, cautiously felt her way through the darkness of the western passage, past the closet holding the cleric and ranger, from which strange sounds were emanating. She stopped as she reached an opening of the passage, unable to see any further. K'Phalvius' wolf, also yet unnamed, held no such qualms and barreled right past her. As the wolf reached the opening, he managed to get a good view of the passage and telepathically transmitted the information to K'Phalvius': the canine stood in the middle of an intersection, with the passage continuing westward, and a second passage leading north and south. Oh, and there was an orc ambush waiting for some unfortunate quadruped to turn the corner so they could stab him full of holes. They did.
The wolf's vision suddenly went blank in K'Phalvius' mind. The death of his animal companion must have only worsened whatever horrifying situation he and Eddi were in in that closet and he came crashing out the door. Alerted to the threat, the Beardians quickly took formation: they all scrambled into the tiny corridor, stepping over each other and wrestling to see who could get the first hit on the orcs. Auren won and, surrounded by three orcs with no way of retreating in the cramped conditions, was promptly beaten into a bloody pulp. Seeing this, the Beardians realized just how stupid they were being and backed off: Eddi and Lucky hid in the closet (with no time for hanky-panky) and K'Phalvius and Chauncey retreated out of the orcs' reach, with Andy valiantly guarding them.
As the battle raged down the corridor, Lucky readied her blade to sneak attack any orc who passed the closet. Beside her, Eddi considered the thought of breaking through a five-foot-thick wall to flank the orcs. Deciding to attempt the incredible act, he prepared his daily feat of strength, a divine favor bestowed upon him by Kord the god of strength himself. The burly cleric bundled his hefty muscles and threw himself like a cannonball against the brick wall, bouncing off to the floor and severely dislocating his shoulder. Lucky laughed.
The heroes of the battle turned out to be K'Phalvius and the mysterious wizardly newcomer. The ranger's arrows flew true to their mark, that mark between an orc's two ears. Chauncey decidedly impressed everyone by shooting out numerous magic missiles to antagonize the orcs, then barbecuing them with a huge lightening bolt spell. The single surviving orc flew into a blood rage and hurled himself down the corridor ... right into the waiting dagger of Lucky.
With the battle won, Eddi reluctantly used his best healing spell on Auren. The Beardians began to whine that they needed to sleep for the day, even though they'd only been exploring and fighting for about a half an hour and it was still bright morning outside the dungeon. At this point, they all experienced a sudden miracle as God spoke unto them thus: "SUCK IT UP." And so, they pressed on down the western passage, more cautiously now.
The passages were lined with rails, apparently for the use of mine carts, and many ways were blocked off by cave-ins. The party shortly found a large cavern which appeared to be one of the vital work areas of the mine. Lucky agreed to scout it out and carefully sneaked through the darkness. After a few minutes of sneakiness, she reported back: the cavern was filled with mining equipment and stairs and ledges. Chutes lead down from these ledges to the decrepit mine carts and rails below. There were at least three orcs with the higher ground.
Finally realizing that rushing headlong into a battle isn't always the best plan, the Beardians worked out a simple strategy and put it into action. Chauncey cast a magic light to distract the enemies while Lucky sneaked back into the cave to sneak-attack the closest orc. The halfing skirted beneath the ledge holding the unknowing monster and crawled carefully up a chute behind him. Just as she began to bring her blade down on his back, a second orc appeared from the darkness and, springing into action against Lucky, shouted a warning. The cavalry was too late -- as one movement, Lucky danced about the second orc's thrust and found her mark on her target, who collapsed, KO'd, to the ground.
Then the game ended and everyone went home. To be continued.
So, the Beardians were standing around healing each other, right? Then they got bored and began to actually explore the dungeon, which, in the Beardian frame of mind, was apparently best performed by rushing headlong into pitch black darkness. Luckily, orcs didn't seem to be the best trap-setters and much ground was covered in a short time. The decrepit ruins of the dwarven mine were, in fact, ruined, with cave-ins and chunks of fire-damaged debris scattered about, suggesting some sort of disaster that must have occurred some time ago. The passages leading east to -- according to Elder Wilhelm's map -- the cafeteria and brewery were discovered. Lucky, exploring the old dorms to the south, found a spare dagger hidden in a dwarven bunk-bed (the bed being somewhat novel, since the second bunk was beneath the ground-level one -- classic dwarven thinking). Andy the anonymous druid explored the former bakery, finding a large cave-in cutting off a part of the chamber. From the other side he could make out voices, but they were too muffled to make out traces of words or language. He also discovered a large oven with a hole leading out from the back, large enough for a small creature to squeeze through. He began to send his anonymous eagle in to explore -- the bird could only make out darkness from as far as it went.
Some of the Beardians were strangely drawn to a closet down a western passage: Eddi went in first, then as K'Phalvius followed the only sound heard was Eddi saying something about seven minutes in heaven before the cleric locked the closet door from the inside.
Meanwhile, Chauncey the anonymous wizard, who'd appeared inexplicably for no apparent reason and had been immediately accepted as a Beardian, cautiously felt her way through the darkness of the western passage, past the closet holding the cleric and ranger, from which strange sounds were emanating. She stopped as she reached an opening of the passage, unable to see any further. K'Phalvius' wolf, also yet unnamed, held no such qualms and barreled right past her. As the wolf reached the opening, he managed to get a good view of the passage and telepathically transmitted the information to K'Phalvius': the canine stood in the middle of an intersection, with the passage continuing westward, and a second passage leading north and south. Oh, and there was an orc ambush waiting for some unfortunate quadruped to turn the corner so they could stab him full of holes. They did.
The wolf's vision suddenly went blank in K'Phalvius' mind. The death of his animal companion must have only worsened whatever horrifying situation he and Eddi were in in that closet and he came crashing out the door. Alerted to the threat, the Beardians quickly took formation: they all scrambled into the tiny corridor, stepping over each other and wrestling to see who could get the first hit on the orcs. Auren won and, surrounded by three orcs with no way of retreating in the cramped conditions, was promptly beaten into a bloody pulp. Seeing this, the Beardians realized just how stupid they were being and backed off: Eddi and Lucky hid in the closet (with no time for hanky-panky) and K'Phalvius and Chauncey retreated out of the orcs' reach, with Andy valiantly guarding them.
As the battle raged down the corridor, Lucky readied her blade to sneak attack any orc who passed the closet. Beside her, Eddi considered the thought of breaking through a five-foot-thick wall to flank the orcs. Deciding to attempt the incredible act, he prepared his daily feat of strength, a divine favor bestowed upon him by Kord the god of strength himself. The burly cleric bundled his hefty muscles and threw himself like a cannonball against the brick wall, bouncing off to the floor and severely dislocating his shoulder. Lucky laughed.
The heroes of the battle turned out to be K'Phalvius and the mysterious wizardly newcomer. The ranger's arrows flew true to their mark, that mark between an orc's two ears. Chauncey decidedly impressed everyone by shooting out numerous magic missiles to antagonize the orcs, then barbecuing them with a huge lightening bolt spell. The single surviving orc flew into a blood rage and hurled himself down the corridor ... right into the waiting dagger of Lucky.
With the battle won, Eddi reluctantly used his best healing spell on Auren. The Beardians began to whine that they needed to sleep for the day, even though they'd only been exploring and fighting for about a half an hour and it was still bright morning outside the dungeon. At this point, they all experienced a sudden miracle as God spoke unto them thus: "SUCK IT UP." And so, they pressed on down the western passage, more cautiously now.
The passages were lined with rails, apparently for the use of mine carts, and many ways were blocked off by cave-ins. The party shortly found a large cavern which appeared to be one of the vital work areas of the mine. Lucky agreed to scout it out and carefully sneaked through the darkness. After a few minutes of sneakiness, she reported back: the cavern was filled with mining equipment and stairs and ledges. Chutes lead down from these ledges to the decrepit mine carts and rails below. There were at least three orcs with the higher ground.
Finally realizing that rushing headlong into a battle isn't always the best plan, the Beardians worked out a simple strategy and put it into action. Chauncey cast a magic light to distract the enemies while Lucky sneaked back into the cave to sneak-attack the closest orc. The halfing skirted beneath the ledge holding the unknowing monster and crawled carefully up a chute behind him. Just as she began to bring her blade down on his back, a second orc appeared from the darkness and, springing into action against Lucky, shouted a warning. The cavalry was too late -- as one movement, Lucky danced about the second orc's thrust and found her mark on her target, who collapsed, KO'd, to the ground.
Then the game ended and everyone went home. To be continued.
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