Game Session One: 4.21.12 Medieval Starship Games and Hobbies, Pembroke MA
The game opened in the Swordhold District, Lower Ward, Sigil. The two mercenaries, The Mad Badger and the Crimson Masque met with their boss Tug Stonecutter and a prospective client, Mr Malgrim. Malgrim, a rather frog-like fellow, claimed to be speaking for a group of necromancers who were natives of Acheron, specifically a cube on the first plane called Melreneth. They had recently come under attack by the forces of the Necromancer-king Boretti. Boretti desired the secrets the necromancers had, and was bent on conquering their cube.
Mr Malgrim wanted the two to infiltrate King Boretti's army and destroy his chief commanding officer, one Count Orlov. Orlov is a vampire. Upon his distruction, the two were to bring back any papers they could find to Malgrim's necromantic masters
After a agreeing to a 10,000 GP payment and a bonus 10,000 should they manage to capture Orlov, the two were given directions to a gate in the Great Foundry complex. They ported to Melreneth, and met with the mercenary goblins fighting Boretti's army.
After a rocky introduction (the Mad Badger being an Orc) the two were led to the edge of the goblin trenches by Sgt Mogwurm, a goblin tracker. They infiltrated the trenches and confronted the clockwork zombies Boretti used as soldiers.
After a pitched battle where the two heros dispatched a platoon of clockwork zombies and their captain, a ghoul named Prykos, the Crimson Masque deciphered a map locating Orlov's command bunker. Using fly potions, the two traveled in stealth to the location.
Rappelling into the trench before the bunker, the Crimson Masque made to open up the double metal doors. When he touched the door a loud voice began to scream 'INTRUDER!' over and over. The nearby zombies rushed in, and one managed to coldcock the Crimson Masque. The Mad Badger dragged him up their rope and hid as the bunker inhabitants sent out zombies to capture them. They retreated to try again on the morrow.
|The Crimson Masque|
First off, the game opened with me rolling out of bed with some hot young Harmonium minx. She was langorous and still quite dazed from the jolly good time indeed I had given her the night before. Vaulting down the stairs, I nodded to The Mad Badger, who had been waiting in the street.
What else? Malrgrim was batrachian and cheap. He originally offered a meager 5,000 gp and had to be wheedled up to 10k. I don't trust him. Our boss, Tug, was also miserly, only offering us a decanter of endless water, an everlasting iron rations box (yum!) and 2,000 gp so that we could equip ourselves--for a grab-and-screw operation in Acheron! I don't trust him, either. Oh yeah, despite the Dungeon Monkey's repeated corrections, I insisted on pronouncing the Necromancer King's name "Borat."
The Dungeon Monkey is very generous, above, when he says that "the two heroes dispatched a platoon of clockwork zombies." It was mostly the work of The Mad Badger, who is an unholy killing machine of death. If it hadn't been for the fact that each one of these clockwork zombies was also carrying 2d6+6 zappers, I would have been useless.
The Dungeon Monkey is also kind enough not to note that we (or at least I) expended between a half and three-fourths of all of our (my) disposable magic items.
Finally, it must be said that it was I who blew it. We had this awesome plan, and it went off like, well, clockwork, and then I just sauntered up to the ubersecret infernal undead command bunker and grabbed the doorknob. Not only do I lack the Perception skills to notice traps, my player lacks the Wisdom to even look!
Actually, I shouldn't even be speaking. I'm still unconscious.
It is not the first time I imagine this sort of thing has taken place. Adapt and overcome I think is the teams main motto. Or adapt and kick butt. Honestly the is issue here was the Mad badger's fault since he allowed the clockwork zombie to slip by him without doing enough damage to the darned thing.
I am not sure I trust our employer either ... but 10K each goes a long way and think of the swag we can get with that sort of cash? You could be sitting pretty up in your fancy rooms and me ... well I am thinking a heavy flail of the titans. Something to smash down doors better.