With some help from the Time Lord known as the Doctor, the Hand of Gaia was able to ensure that their planet was spared being eaten by the world-devourer. The beacons that were lit on the planet across time and space were extinguished, one by one, despite the best efforts of those who would sell out their world for a pay day.
Temellen was only a pawn in a much larger scheme that spanned across thousands of worlds, of which Gaia was only one small backwater. As the Hand of Gaia cleansed the Moonbase of evil, they found technology that would ensure that their planet vanished from interplanetary scans, both biological (from planet-devouring void beasts) and technological (interstellar empires). Although the planet was still ravaged by entropy and the release of magic from the control of mortals in its later days, its destiny was its own, and the lifecycle of the planet went on as it should have.
Some members of the Hand of Gaia did not return to a quiet life after their adventures on the Moonbase were concluded.
Olivius the Thief continued his time-traveling adventures with Yala the Shell Diver using stolen technology that he took from the Moonbase.
Dambreth the Cleric always remembered his animal friend Scram, and when Gaia was safe from annihilation he moved back to the planet, spending the rest of his long Elven life fighting back the forces of entropy and decay.
Sinathel the Druid lived with her cousin on Gaia and through her efforts, managed to spread the ideology of Druidism to others. She became a grand teacher, stewarding her planet back to health as was her sacred charge. She started her own Circle of Druids after the Druids that helped to build the Moonbase (and were part of Gaia's Hand) were destroyed in the conflict. Eventually, she attained the rank of Arch-Druid, when she singlehandedly saved an entire continent from an arcane maelstrom.
Bolus returned to Terminus City a fugitive, but worked hard using evidence discovered at the Moonbase and cleared his name of Temellen's treachery - with a little help from the Doctor. He was eventually lauded as a hero and given a leadership role within the city, shepherding it during some of its most successful and inclusive years. He resisted being a political leader for years, until popular demand elevated him to the title of Provincial Governor. Under his watch, new cities were established in the Wastelands for the first time in hundreds of years.
Lord Borak had little to concern himself with planetside, and was filled with curiosity about the new realms that he was exposed to, and continued traveling the stars with the Doctor aboard the TARDIS as the Doctor's companion.
Viola returned to Gaia having learned more about the world beyond her acrobatic performance arts lifestyle of before. She continued to adventure for years afterward, accumulating the greatest treasure trove of magical artifacts the world has ever seen in one place.
Hey guys, Archepex (aka Olivius) let me know about the game being bounced back to the top. I'll go ahead and cancel this one (regretfully) - as I've moved on from this account. I'll give everyone a couple of days to check this message before moving the campaign to inactive.
In the meantime, I have come back to these boards, under a new alias - DM Mooshybooshy, "the Foolish". Here's a link to my current profile's campaign page. I'm currently running:
An all-kobold campaign centered around revenge on a group of adventurers
A campaign about a group of mercenaries hunting Skaven (rat-folk).
I'm sorry again, for leaving you all in a lurch when I left. I still think fondly on this campaign; it lasted a really long time.
Hey all, taking my 4th of July vacation trip this week. Going to be in Denver - updating sporadically. I'll get back home on Sunday. Sorry I've been in...such a lurch lately. I've been interviewing a lot and I've had this money put aside for this trip to Denver for months, so hopefully it shakes me back into what I used to be for this group! Wanna do right by you guys as DM. :)
Hey all, taking my 4th of July vacation trip this week. Going to be in Denver - updating sporadically. I'll get back home on Sunday. Have a good week. :)
Bolus, you sense the presence of a great many lesser evils, somewhere on the station. You can only feel it faintly, like being in a really old house that you know is infested with cockroaches, even if you can't see them.
You're also offered a surprise from Olivius; unlike before, when his aura was mostly neutral or positive, he now seems to radiate as an evil being.
He's standing quite near to Yala, or she's standing quite near to him. Perhaps, you reason, he's thinking particularly impure thoughts. That might be causing a false read...
Tutti, roll your damage as you bowl through the main mass of conflict! Fortunately, most of the goblins have been routed or slain in this area, so the collateral damage of your claws swinging wildly about is minimal; but the riders you're charging through have long-handled weapons that get tangled in the cursed trophies that got caught on you! You're impaired from reaching the ballistae for another turn, only able to look on as the operators desperately try to bring knives to their own bodies to cut the void worms out.
Meanwhile, Olivius and Bolus step out of the craft and look about themselves in amazement. Olivius in particular is fortunate to have an open-minded personality; he has been exposed to numerous world-shaking new truths in his time spent as a time traveler, and this may be one of the most momentous. The view reminds him of the view that he saw when he was atop Mount Haujobb, communing with the ancient dwarf spirit of the stars. Unfortunately, the view of the planet shows how extensive the loss of control over magic has been to Gaia. Truly, you are champions of a wounded spirit.
As mentioned, Olivius, there is a large set of blast doors under an archway that appears to lead further into the body of whatever space station you happen to be in. You don't have any knowledge of vacuum, so it's not surprising to you that the window leading to Earth hasn't sucked you all out into space; to you, it's simply a window that's extremely extremely high up.
As you're glancing around, you see strange square coverings in the wall that have slats in them, and you can tell that the air is coming from between these slats. There are a handful scattered around the hangar, both above and at ground level, that might be accessible as alternate exits.
Viola: it's quiet outside the TARDIS. Listening intently only brings the quiet susurrus of what sounds like some kind of air conditioning system, as well as the sounds of falling debris of some kind or another. It appears as if the TARDIS caused some damage to the hangar's superstructure when it landed; you should keep an eye overhead when you're stepping outside.
As you look to your left, concentrating on your hearing, you're distracted by Lord Borak stepping boldly outside of the TARDIS first. He breathes in a deep breath, the air filling his lungs and causing his chest to expand; breathable air, a mercy. You consider to yourself (from your timeline's magically-enhanced understanding of vacuum) to be lucky that the air wasn't all sucked out of the TARDIS when the door opened, if you are on a space station as it seems.
Borak's tactician mind immediately sets about himself for possible strategic advantages. Sadly, though perhaps luckily for his own personal safety, there were no other craft inhabiting this hangar - despite there being room for several other ships besides the blue box.
Retzack's followers are cowed by their master's wrath, but begin to nudge each other and mutter among themselves as he begins again. The magic he summons works successfully - at least, to the untrained eyes of your lesser goblins. Within your own mind, however, you can tell that your beating on the Weave has set forth reverberations. Reverberations that certain...entities are sensitive to. You feel the worms bursting forth from the ballista operators that are already flailing on the ground. The energy activating their summonings within the victims' flesh can be traced back to you, however.
"They've got a mage hidden there! MAGES! MAKE YOURSELVES USEFUL! COUNTER HIS SPELLS!" calls a commanding shout from a nearby lieutenant, a black-haired human with a curved broadsword held high in one hand. Gesturing at your rocky fortress that you created around yourself, he commands the magic in your direction! You see the mages that aren't wrestling with Prox turn in answer, and channel together to enable a powerful bomb spell! You see a bright ball of light forming above the remaining mages' outstretched hands...forming quickly and growing in size! What do you do?
Meanwhile, Tutti notices the product of Numaria's smithies and civilization rolling up on the goblins' humble huts. A primal rage fills her as she rolls her bear body along the front of the goblin charge like a giant, green, biological tank, rallying the goblins nearby.
As she charges directly at the ballista, her path takes her through a skirmish between a large group of Meatsnacks' raiders vs a smaller but more powerful contingent of Numarian knights. Do you avoid the skirmish? Roll defy danger +Dex to avoid the dangerous melee, and you'll be within range of the Ballista to roll Hack and Slash. If you want to give an advantage to the goblins already fighting the nearby knights, roll +Str to get in the thick of things!
Yeah, work dried up. I'm going to find something else soon.
In the meantime, please enjoy this picture, it's very very close to what I imagined Terminus City to be, the view from the Wasteland side of the gorge.
Apologies for the radio silence...unfortunately, I lost my job this past Monday. Been putting a bit of a damper on my creative juices. I'm bouncing back, though. Will post tomorrow.
Retzack pays attention to none of these petty victories elsewhere on the battlefield. No matter how dismayed the Numarians are now, they'll certainly rally when the ballista start to rain death from afar.
Imagining the past scenes of mass destruction and death he had seen wrought by siege machines distracted his concentration. His spell crackles painfully at his fingertips, threatening to fail.
You hear cries of angry surprise from your followers all around you. "The master's spell! The master's spell is failing! The master demands...SACRIFICE!"
With a crazed peal of laughter, your followers all draw knives on each other. Knowing how Retzack's magic works by now from all the previous times they had witnessed it, they knew that their lives could fuel the flame of the arcana he drew upon.
Your followers begin stabbing each other in a vicious melee that takes place all around you! 1d6 ⇒ 3 goblins lie dead at the end of the altercation, by the time you get control over them once more. The remaining goblins clutch their bloody knives and giggle to each other, as if they were children that had just stolen cookies from a cookie jar. The fodder goblins' deaths were just what you needed, and your spell became a partial success!
Void worms begin to erupt - slowly - from the pores of the skin of the human and elven ballista operators. You successfully delay the setup of the siege equipment as they frantically scream and fall to the ground, slapping at their flesh. Roll your damage!
After a momentary struggle that ruins and demolishes half of the trophy room, Tutti the bear, dwarf in arms, staggers out of the hut. She has superficial injuries but they aren't enough to have caused actual HP loss - and clearly she got the better of the altercation, because the dwarf is properly beaten up. With a joyous roar, the owlion darts forward, her huge head nonetheless striking with the swiftness of a viper. The dwarf has hardly the time for his eyes to widen before he is yanked out of the bear's grasp and messily devoured.
Meatsnacks was watching this, and roars in approval! The forces of Numaria quail in terror as the Owlion eats one of them, and the battered leader with the wild red hair turns to shout at them, rallying them back to the fight!
Meanwhile, the tribe is energized by the emergence of a seemingly allied bear, covered in trophy jewelry from Meatsnacks' hut from the fight. The tribe just assumes that the bear is a tamed animal that belongs to their Chief. With a concerted "WAAAGH!" the goblins regroup and raise their weapons, charging the armored invaders!
Tutti, you easily snap the reins that the dwarf is holding on to, and the excess force of his arms pulling backward on them causes him to go flying backward! His is the first body to impact the wall of the Chief's hut, and your bear body is just moments behind. Unlike your bearded opponent, however, you intended to jump this way - and you land, foreclaws first, on the dwarf's unarmored chest. You mortally wound him, but dwarves are known for their tenacity! Even as you're crashing through the wall of the hut and into Meatsnacks' trophy room, the dwarf is still fighting back, slashing at you with his one remaining handaxe! Take 1d6 damage, and the dwarf breaks free of your grip. Bleeding heavily from the wounds in his chest and backing away from you deeper into the Trophy room, the dwarf makes to hide behind the ornamental weapon trophies and armor racks that Meatsnacks has accumulated. He's preparing to throw his axe at you from behind the suit of armor, and the Owlion has skidded to a stop just in time to avoid crashing through the wall after you. "Bring the fool to me so I can bite off his hairy head!" the Owlion cries to you, recognizing you as the one that understood it.
Meanwhile, outside in the melee, Prox is occupied with other matters. While his shield goes clanging to the ground uselessly from his chicken fingers, he stabs with redoubled fury at one of the mages.
Your blade sticks in the old man's ribs and you use it to climb up on him, evading the swing of one of the crusader's swords! As the old man screams in pain and desperately begs his allies to burn the goblin off of him, the other mages back away quickly. You're rapidly losing the cover of the confused squishies, Prox - you'll be surrounded by Crusaders in moments!
From your vantage point atop the screaming mage's shoulder, you can see behind you and to your left that your fodder goblins are trying to get to you. Rallying other goblins to their cause, the fodder fools are throwing themselves en masse at the wall of armor and horseflesh surrounding you. Behind you and to your right, you can see that the Chief is beating back the leader of the Numarians, the wild-haired auburn rider. Roaring with successive fury, the chief swings his club o' meat back and forth, driving her back.
Ahead of you, behind the furthest back-line archers and mages at a distance of about 25 feet, ballista are being rolled into position! The Numarians brought artillery? What do you do?
The Doctor runs a hand backward through his longish hair, thinking hard. "Well, before we can determine if we can rest, we need to establish where we are. The TARDIS' systems are offline...I should be able to repair the damage, but first I need to see how bad she was hurt." so saying, he begins to climb under the walkway to one side, his screwdriver whirring.
After a few moments of tinkering, he waves a hand absently. "Go see what's out there," he says, dismissing you with a distracted tone, his attention focused on his miraculous and damaged machine. With a snap of his fingers, the door to the TARDIS swings open.
Looking through it, you find yourselves in a large docking hangar of some kind, and your ship is lying on its side against one of its walls. From the rubble in your immediate area, your landing was pretty rough on the station as well as the craft.
In front of you are more docking bays where ships might rest. To your left, there is a large archway with a closed set of blast doors and a small series of panels and instrumentation, all abandoned. To your right, an oval opening in the wall...with Gaia, your planet, below. What do you do?
Gathering his power about him like a cloak, Retzack communes with the Towering pillar of madness that only he has seen, and forcefully shoves the rock up from below with fingers borne of dark magic. The rock is then shaped protectively in a cone around you, shielding you from the onrushing horses. Some of them jump directly over the rock shield you've created, their armored bodies thundering overhead. Recognizing your spellcasting when they see it, your followers gather closely around you - but about 25 other nearby goblins are not so lucky or observant, and are crushed by the stampede as it rolls over either side of the barricade. Even when things go well, the goblins are dying by the droves. Ah, such is the way of the Waaagh.
Hidden beneath the rock, the sorcerer is unable to see the way Tutti takes to the sky and mimics the Australian drop-bear! Such a surprise overhead ambush is commonly known and attributed to these fierce beasts, and Tutti emulates their terrible hunting patterns beautifully. With cries of dismay, two of the dwarf berserkers are knocked clear. Their armor is shattered by the crushing weight of sudden bearflesh, leaving them vulnerable. Marvexa roars in bloodlust and directs her hobgoblin troops to slaughter the exposed dwarves. Drop bears, though terribly strong, are rather clumsy. -1 Dex.
One berserker escaped the druid's attack by climbing on the owlion's back. Reaching down, the dwarf's face lights up in delighted surprise. "Why, the greenies were gonna try to ride this thing!" he cries out to the other warriors battling before Meatsnacks' throne. "HYAH!" the dwarf cries, grasping hold of reins in two hands and yanking it to the side! With a growling grunt, the owlion is yanked off its feet and stumbles sideways, carrying you with it, Tutti! You're off balance and all of you are rolling toward the Chief's hut!
Prox, as you land, you have to twist in midair to dodge a wildly-cast defensive spell that was hurled at you by one of the women. You escape its full blast - but it strikes you in the hand, affecting you there. It was a Baleful Polymorph spell - instead of a left hand, you now have a chicken wing that can barely clutch! -1 to all rolls that involve the use of your left hand until the spell is lifted!
You land ferociously among the squishy clothies. They all recoil in horror and fear as you snarl and gibber - they are used to slinging spells from afar, and are cowardly to the last wizard, as most mages are. Their crusader allies are jostling behind them, trying to shove them aside to kill you, but they have to be careful with their weapons drawn, and the crush of battle is all around them. "Move! Get out of the way!" you hear them shouting angrily at the casters.
Yala groans in pain somewhere just outside your vision, Olivius. Off to your right, you see the nameless prisoner digging through some ship debris and helping to pull her out and to her feet. She looks shaky, but there's little serious injury - just a nasty-looking cut bleeding down the side of her temple, that she appears to be unaware of. You can faintly see her confused-looking face in the darkness, glancing around.
Meanwhile, Vallarco falls from where she was gripping an instrument panel on what is now the ceiling, but was formerly a wall. She drops a good ten feet, and lands awkwardly in the darkness, falling to her knees with a bang and a quiet, groaned curse.
All around you, you can hear the TARDIS' systems grinding, and the ship's struggles to right itself can almost be compared to a living thing. All around you in the darkness, the ship vibrates and shakes.
The Doctor emerges from the far side of the central instrument panel, looking disheveled and disoriented but not seriously hurt. "We're here," he says, shakily. Immediately, his gaze returns to the display panels of the TARDIS, but they're darkened, showing nothing. In frustration, the stranger slaps the side of the monitor a few times, but it has no effect. Growling under his breath, the Doctor aims his strange wand device at the console and you hear the faint whirr sound emanating from it again; he consults the wand and his lips tighten against one another.
"There was a barrier, a temporal wall of some kind, around the Headquarters of the Hand," he says, raising his voice slightly but not turning his attention away from the instruments. "That explains the...turbulence..." Seemingly as an afterthought, the Doctor glances around at all of you. "Is everyone alright? We're on the station, but the TARDIS isn't going anywhere for awhile until its systems repair itself...we have to proceed on foot."
Vallarco nods grimly at Bolus' words. "Sir, I've already seen stranger things today than I've ever seen in the service of Terminus City, and that's saying something." She turns to Ocampo, who has Cortes slung across one shoulder. "Goodbye, Ocampo. Honor serving next to you." Ocampo manages to salute with one hand and begins to stagger off in the direction of the road leading to Terminus.
As your eyes follow him, Guardian, you note that your Vow seems to be satisfied. The orc tribe that inhabited this valley has been scattered to the winds, thanks to the efforts of you and your friends.
Inside the crash:
"Everything's under control!" the Doctor cries out, struggling to reach one of the higher buttons and eventually managing to slap it. It does nothing.
"Damn!" the crazed man shouts, his voice getting higher pitched. As he curses, you can hear the metal structure of the craft you're all riding in begin to squeal in shearing protest...half the lights go out as the power fluctuates wildly. For a moment, you can see nothing but the gleaming white glow of the central column inside the command console, before the lights flicker back on. Right as they do so, however, the craft tips sideways and crashes on its side. You all feel a bone-shaking impact that rumbles the entire craft when you finally come to a stop and the TARDIS stops its shaking. Even if you're securely fastened, you're shaken all around and disoriented for several seconds. Finally, it stops. All falls quiet. The lights are only working intermittently now; it's very dark in here.
Roll 1d6. If you rolled a 1 or a 2, you're injured from the crash, and you take 1d8 damage from the crushing impact of your bones against the bulkhead. What do you do?
The Owlion tosses its head in surprise to look over at Tutti. With an interrogatory screech, the creature makes to approach the druid...but is interrupted.
With cries of "WE'LL PROTECT YE, MISTRESS!", three armored dwarves detach themselves from the lead knight's retinue, breaking away from combat with Meatsnacks and his bodyguards. With howls of battle-joy, the dwarven berserkers, each wielding two handaxes, jump at the Owlion with vicious overhead hacking swings. The Owlion is engaged with trying to destroy the short but squat attackers! With a cry of fury, the beast responds to the dwarven assault by spitting lightning at them!
Meanwhile, Prox, having recently freed himself from the Master Hand's grasp, finds himself above the battlefield on the hand's finger. For a moment, before the finger shakes him loose, Prox has a dominating view of the entire melee. The casters, he can tell immediately, are frail-looking old men and women that are clustered tightly together near the center of the cavalry charge. You can get to them with a well-aimed jump - but you'd be in the thick of all the crusaders and cut off from support. Alternatively, your goblin allies are on the opposite end of the Hand and you can jump to them, risking continuing harassment by the mages. What do you do?
I would definitely consider horses "innocent," and corruption of the innocent is what Abyssal mages do, is it not?
Retzack feels that his doom is nigh. The flashing armor and shining lances of the Numarians has broken his will, and threatens to kill the last of his hope that any of them will survive this.
Rather than rally internally and allow himself to recover from his despair, Retzack decides to use it. Spreading both hands wide apart with his fingers splayed, Retzack uses his magic in a wholly new way, a way that he's never experimented with before.
Like a cone of intense wind, Retzack's magic sweeps over the horses of the cavalry charge. Roll your damage twice, Retzack - that number of horses will forget their training and remember only their fear of goblins. However, when they're freed and ready to flee the battle, they happen to create a mini-stampede that's heading your way! What do you do?
"Don't touch that." the Doctor's voice cuts in sharply when you reach for one of the console's controls, Viola. The thin stranger looks to be strangely protective of his miraculous machine. His expression is almost violent in its intensity as he stares at you wild-eyed for a moment, then he composes himself and smiles a little uncertainly. "I've had some...bad experiences when people touch things...in here. Paradoxes, disruptions to the space-time continuum, world-shattering explosions, that sort of thing..." He turns back to setting the coordinates - at least, that's what you assume he's doing. For all you know, he could be pushing and pulling at things randomly. You aren't quite sure about this stranger.
Vallarco, the unnamed former prisoner and the rest of the Hand's Agents file into the TARDIS, looking around. There's a few places to sit inside the machine, but not enough for everybody, just 4 of you.
Olivius, as you wander around to see what's all around you, you see something that looks out of place among all the fancy machinery - a plain old rolling chalkboard, not unlike what your tutor used to use when you were a child in a minor noble house. You see strange, complicated circles drawn in various places on the "margins" of the chalkboard...and you see a drawing of a face. The face is the same strange, unknown race that Temellen eventually revealed himself to be - there's no mistake. The face is drawn in a twisted, snarling pose, leaving no ambiguity as to its disposition.
"And here...we...go!" the Doctor cries, using both hands to push a pair of levers all the way forward. With a shudder that rocks the entire ship, the engines finish warming up, and the whooshing sound from before grows louder and fills the air.
This time is different from when the Doctor first arrived, however...before, there was a gracefulness to the way the box just materialized out of nowhere. You can immediately tell that this is going to be a rougher ride than it looked.
Viola and Borak are the first to notice that there's something very wrong. The Doctor is frowning as he stares at the monitor slightly above head level, at the numerous flashing text notifications that are completely unintelligible to you.
With a sudden WHAM, all of you are violently jerked to one side, aft of the ship! Though it's difficult to tell without perspective from the outside (there aren't any windows that you can tell), you can see from the way the Doctor is clinging to the control panel that the ship is on its side relative to its gravitational pull. Alarms are sounding from speakers set in the walls all over the ship. What do you do?
Vallarco and Ocampo were tending to Cortes' injuries and each other, and regarded the Doctor with deep suspicion. When Bolus mentions "not feeling like he'd be welcome in Terminus City anymore," they begin to mutter to each other. They look mistrustfully at some of the others, especially the prisoner that brought Viola her gear on his back. The swarthy human prisoner, for his part, is gaping at the TARDIS, his chest of gear lying forgotten on the ground behind him where Viola left it after ransacking her gear.
Cortes is still unconscious. Ocampo is tending to his wounds, binding his lacerations and checking his vitals. Vallarco approaches Bolus before everyone boards the TARDIS, as the Doctor impatiently looks on from the doorway.
"Sir," Vallarco begins, "that was the bravest thing I've ever seen anyone do." Her voice is strong, but falters a little before she continues. "Ocampo and I, we had our doubts about the authenticity of your story, but after you got us out of there...well, let's just say we're true believers now. That's why I want to come with you."
Ocampo looks up, surprised, but Vallarco silences him with a stare. "Don't make me pull rank, Ocampo. Temellen was able to smear a Guardian like Bolus' name, what could our superiors do to regular Guardians like us? Besides, I owe him big - we all do. You have to take Cortes back to Terminus. I'm going with them." Ocampo looks pretty disgruntled, but nods acquiescence.
"Can I come?" a voice speaks up. The enormous human prisoner carrying the loot-box, who had been mute up till now, speaks in a surprisingly childish voice. "I just...er...got nowhere else to go, really."
Making a Hireling
Hirelings are easy to make on the fly. When someone enters the players’ employ note down their name and what cost they’ve agreed to as well as any skills they may have.
Start with a number based on where the hireling was found. Hirelings in villages start with 2–5. Town hirelings get 4–6. Keep hirelings are 5–8. City hirelings are 6–10. Distribute the hireling’s number between loyalty, a main skill, and zero or more secondary skills. Starting loyalty higher than 2 is unusual, as is starting loyalty below 0. Choose a cost for the hireling and you’re done.
A hireling’s stats, especially their loyalty, may change during play as a reflection of events. A particular kindness or bonus from the players is worth +1 loyalty forward. Disrespect is -1 loyalty forward. If it’s been a while since their cost was last paid they get -1 loyalty ongoing until their cost is met. A hireling's loyalty may be permanently increased when they achieve some great deed with the players. A significant failure or beating may permanently lower the hireling’s loyalty.
Costs
• The Thrill of Victory
• Money
• Uncovered Knowledge
• Fame and Glory
• Debauchery
• Good Accomplished
Skills When you make a hireling, distribute points among one or more of these skills.
Adept
An adept has at least apprenticed to an arcane expert, but is not powerful in their own right. They’re the grad students of the arcane world. Arcane Assistance—When an adept aids in the casting of a spell of lower level than their skill, the spell’s effects have greater range, duration, or potency. The exact effects depend on the situation and the spell and are up to the GM. The GM will describe what effects the assist will add before the spell is cast. The most important feature of casting with an adept is that any negative effects of the casting are focused on the adept first.
Burglar
Burglars are skilled in a variety of areas, most of them illicit or dangerous. They are good with devices and traps, but not too helpful in the field of battle. Experimental Trap Disarming—When a burglar leads the way they can detect traps almost in time. If a trap would be sprung while a burglar is leading the way the burglar suffers the full effects but the players get +skill against the trap and add the burglar’s skill to their armor against the trap. Most traps leave a burglar in need of immediate healing. If the players Make Camp near the trap, the burglar can disarm it by the time camp is broken.
Minstrel
When a smiling face is needed to smooth things over or negotiate a deal a minstrel is always happy to lend their services for the proper price. A Hero’s Welcome—When you enter a place of food, drink, or entertainment with a minstrel you will be treated as a friend by everyone present (unless your actions prove otherwise). You also subtract the minstrel’s skill from all prices in town.
Priest
Priests are the lower ranking clergy of a religion, performing minor offices and regular sacraments. While not granted spells themselves, they are able to call upon their deity for minor aid. Ministry—When you make camp with a priest if you would normally heal you heal +skill HP. First Aid—When a priest staunches your wounds heal 2×skill HP. You take -1 forward as their healing is painful and distracting.
Protector
A protector stands between their employer and the blades, fangs, teeth, and spells that would harm them. Sentry—When a protector stands between you and an attack you increase your armor against that attack by the defender’s skill, then reduce their skill by 1 until they receive healing or have time to mend. Intervene—When a protector helps you defy danger you may opt to take +1 from their aid. If you do you cannot get a 10+ result, a 10+ instead counts as a 7–9.
Tracker
Trackers know the secrets of following a trail, but they don’t have the experience with strange creatures and exotic locales that make for a great hunter. Track—When a tracker is given time to study a trail while Making Camp, when camp is broken they can follow the trail to the next major change in terrain, travel, or weather. Guide—When a tracker leads the way you automatically succeed on any Perilous Journey of a distance (in rations) lower than the tracker’s skill.
Warrior
Warriors are not masters of combat, but they are handy with a weapon. Man-at-arms—When you deal damage while a warrior aids you add their skill to the damage done. If your attack results in consequences (like a counter attack) the man-at-arms takes the brunt of it.
Vallarco the Guardian gets 8 points:
Cost: Good Accomplished
Loyalty 2
Warrior 4
Protector 2
?????? the big, unnamed prisoner gets 4 points:
Cost: Money
Loyalty 1
"First Aid" - secular version of "Priest" skill - 2
Burglar 1
The Doctor turns to Viola as she asks her question, his expression brightening for the first time since you saw him. He has a million-gigawatt smile that changes his entire countenance.
"Rest? Why yes, of course! Headquarters is the permanent residence of time-honored members of Gaia's Hand, where you can see any of the magnificent views of the planet's surface below that you like."
You stand in one of the strangest starships ever designed; built using engineering techniques that tricked reality and broke the underlying rules of the universe. There's space for you all to walk about comfortably, and you see the Doctor rushing to the central pilot's console. He begins flipping switches and pushing levers upward, and the central pillar that dominates the room begins pulsing a bright light that moves up and down its length. You hear the strange whooshing sounds of the TARDIS engine firing up once more.
The door to the box bangs open again. The Doctor pokes his head out again at all of you. "Come on, come on," he says, impatiently. "There are players at work on this planet that prevent me from just going anywhen I want to. What I can do is take you to where you need to go - where the signal went. We need to go to HQ." he points up at the sky. "Up there." With a grand sweeping "after you," gesture, the man stands aside and welcomes you all, encouraging you inside. "Come on, come on. I want all of you here with me for this. There might be trouble."
Tutti, your form changes shape rapidly to defend your waifu. Your bulk easily absorbs all of the arrows the Numarians fired at Retzack, but your armor didn't absorb all of the damage. Your entire right side is feathered with arrows; only a few of them smart, but they smart bad! Take 1d6 damage, does not ignore armor.
Prox's struggles against the Master Hand are valiant, and his three followers jump aboard to try and assist him! As some of the other goblins and fighters battling nearby pause and stare in wonder, your three fodder gobbos all attach to the Hand's middle finger! Two of them are crushed between the spell's merciless fingers, their hands waving helplessly out from the gaps, but the third one manages to pull the hand's finger back!
You have an opening, Prox, but you'd better take it fast - the Hand is beginning to elevate itself higher, with all 4 of the gobbos still in its grasp! Roll Defy Danger!
Down below, the battle rages on, Meatsnacks viciously batting aside the lance of the lead rider with his beat-stick. His roars of fury are matched by the beast that emerges from Marvexa's opened crate; it's revealed to be a widely-known and widely-feared OWLION! The creature gives a high-pitched, warbling war cry with an undercurrent of a feline growl, unlike any beast you've ever heard in these parts. Meatsnacks begins to laugh in triumph as the riders assaulting his throne fall back, dismayed, at its monstrous appearance! Tutti, though the accent is foreign, you recognize the words of the creature's speech, and it's shouting about being finally free of its prison, and giving a maniacal account of how it will pick apart each and every one of you. The beast seems infuriated after its long containment.
The rest of you are in grave danger from the mounted riders that are breaking through the goblin lines and cleaving wide paths of death through the tribe. All around you is the madness of tribal combat, goblins alternating between chittering and giggling as they leap up to stab horses in the throat and bring down their riders. Horses are a hated enemy of goblinkind, almost as bad as dogs; they represent the civilization that greenskins hate. Blood and foam stain the earth all around you and hooves churn the mud; what do you do?
The Doctor shakes his head insistently when he hears your question repeated, Viola. Approaching you with one long stride of his legs, he blinks slowly. "No time for...origin stories." His ears perk up as the others ask their questions or voice their feelings. The despair in Bolus and Olivius' voices sets his fingertips to his temples for a moment, then he smiles a little.
"No, I wouldn't call destroying that beacon nothing. As the Hand and I understood it, it was the only way to prevent your world from being eaten. The Failsafe wasn't a solution, it was a chance for a little..." he sighs regretfully, glancing up at the sky overhead. "A little revenge."
"It can't be controlled, sir. Nor can it be bargained with, or communicated with at all. The Monster in the Moon might have destroyed the World Eater that's coming...and then devoured the Earth afterward."
He crosses his arms. "Obviously, the idea's insane. I was completely against it. This Professor shouldnt've even known about it...and NOW, since you've destroyed the last beacon that was set up, it's not even necessary! We're going to have to stop him from setting off the signal..." muttering to himself, the stranger walks back into his box, slamming the door behind him.
Bolus, you sense an ominous thundercloud of Evil that clings to this man like a cloak, following his every footstep. The man himself...no, not Evil. In fact, you sense a strong sense of righteousness and goodness coming from this outwardly irritable old man. However, there is unimaginable evil in his past, so much so that you find yourself wondering how the man's soul is not dragged down to Hell while he stands before you. In simpler terms...this guy's seen some s~&#. So much so that you find it difficult to trust him, no matter how good he seems to be.
The Doctor whirls around again, his eyes darting back and forth without focusing on anything in front of him, his mind clearly running through numerous complex calculations. "Let's start over," he says, a big smile on his face. "What with the...uh...explosive going off, and the death and destruction around us and what-have-you..." he glances at the body of a slain orc lying on the ground nearby and his lips press together in distaste.
"Anyway. The Hand of Gaia and I...well, we're involved. In fact, I was there when it was originally founded! Might have gone differently had I actually had a hand in the Charter...but it's always better to let you do it for yourselves...yes..." he seems lost in thought a moment, before turning to Dambreth. "Yes, the World Eater! Coming this way, drawn by terrible beacons that have been lit throughout history, yes, ringing a bell?" he taps the side of his nose, and puts one arm over Dambreth's shoulder. "Well, it's a latecomer to this neighborhood. There's another one, another planet-sized beast that could swallow everything on this planet whole. In fact, more planets have them than don't!" he points upward, at the moon hanging in the evening sky overhead. It's barely visible through the smog left behind by the recent explosion, but it's there.
"Yours is asleep...up there. The monster in the moon...the Hand of Gaia's Failsafe."
As the warband leaps into action against the cavalry's charge, the horses of the onslaught meet the goblin clan warriors in combat. The recent reveling of Meatsnacks' party made many of the goblins hung over, and the opening moments of the charge are inspirational enough to be immortalized in song - at least, if you're a human, elf, or dwarf. For the goblins, however, it's disastrous. Scores of goblins are slain, crushed underhoof by the raging warhorses, impaled on lances, or smashed by wildly swung flails and maces.
Meatsnacks is immediately imperiled by the vanguard of the charge. The woman with the flowing red hair screams her hatred as she knocks hobgoblin bodyguards aside with her polearm. The banner of Numaria hangs from the tip of the weapon, bloodied with goblin death. "MARVEXA!" Meatsnacks bellows, standing tall on his throne. His favored weapon, a giant club of meat, is hanging loosely from one gnarled hand.
The mysterious shaman was not idle during the opening seconds of the melee. Cackling to herself, the harridan scales the huge box that the hobgoblins dragged out, and begins to beat on one of the corners, smashing the wood until one side falls open! Darkness is inside the box, and you hear growling from within...
Been a long time, boys and girls (too long!) so I'll recap real quickly:
Having returned triumphant from your mission, the warlords of Meatsnacks have feasted and partied the night away in preparation for the Chief's big announcement the following morning. However, no sooner than the Chief has declared his intention to start a WAAAAGH than the Cavalry of Numaria comes calling to bring his vicious killing to an end! The Forces of Good, over a hundred strong, have come for the goblin horde...will they triumph over Evil?
Time seems to slow as the cavalry of Numaria begin charging down the hillside toward all of you. Their armor gleams with the shining light of righteousness, and the hooves of their multitudinous horses flash in the sun. Lances are lowered and the first phalanx breaks into the goblin masses.
Prox is the first of the warband leaders to react, but his haste leads him to make himself into a great big target. In his enthusiasm, the wild skirmisher charges out in front of the other goblins and draws attention to himself.
One group of cavalry riders, consisting of a section of magicians and other wielders of magic, target Prox with a spell. Prox, you look up to find yourself facing off against a shimmering, golden hand of force, hanging in midair. It's taller than you and it reaches down to snatch you off the ground! Take 1d4+2 damage, and you're being squeezed in midair!
As Blibberblab targets Prox with his enchantment, the wild magic of the Numarians spreads through the arcane link to him, and the bard spawns a Hand of Force of his own! Instead of reaching down to squeeze you like Prox's does, this one attempts to flatten you completely. Take 1d4+2 damage and you're unable to move unless you get out from under the squishing hand!
Retzack, meanwhile, has to expose himself to danger by casting his Infinite Voidworms spell. Moving into position causes some of the sharper-eyed elven cavalry archers to notice you, and one elf lass calls to her captain in unintelligible Elvish. In a moment, a hail of arrows is loosed, aimed at you and your faithful fodder goblins! Meanwhile, the Voidworms you summoned also attracted far more attention than you intended. Your victim is screaming in pain, and is immediately being yanked back from the battle by other warriors, with the intent of healing him or at least containing the damage caused by the spell. You'll need to try again - assuming you aren't too filled with arrows to do that. They're flying through the air towards you right now.
I'm here, I'm sorry, I'm really overwhelmed at work (still behind at this very moment,) and when I get home I have a newborn to look after plus I'm still exhausted from my work day. Generally when I get home I've been napping/trying to sleep in between feedings and changings of my baby boy. Posting in all my campaigns - I want to get on top of things again, hopefully this Memorial Day weekend will let me do that.
I'm here, I'm sorry, I'm really overwhelmed at work (still behind at this very moment,) and when I get home I have a newborn to look after plus I'm still exhausted from my work day. Generally when I get home I've been napping/trying to sleep in between feedings and changings of my baby boy. Posting in all my campaigns - I want to get on top of things again, hopefully this Memorial Day weekend will let me do that.
No worries Bolus, I'm still trying to get caught up at work. I've been behind since last Monday. It's so exhausting trying to catch up everyday that I haven't had time/energy to post anything, even when I'm not actually at work. Thanks all for being patient!
Quick update - while I was away from work on paternity leave, a big project started up finally and dumped a lot of work on all of us. Now, this week, I'm having to do the work I ordinarily would have had, plus the work my sick teammate can't do...
That's why I'm not posting, I really want to but I haven't had a spare moment except to wolf down some lunch today. Promise I'll be back tonight or tomorrow.
Quick update - while I was away from work on paternity leave, a big project started up finally and dumped a lot of work on all of us. Now, this week, I'm having to do the work I ordinarily would have had, plus the work my sick teammate can't do...
That's why I'm not posting, I really want to but I haven't had a spare moment except to wolf down some lunch today. Promise I'll be back tonight or tomorrow.
The tall stranger sighs with relief when Olivius confirms his suspicions. He strides up to each of you in turn, eyeing you up and down with a critical gaze, his fingers thoughtfully touching his chin.
When Viola leaves the communicator on the ground, the Doctor whirls to her, his coat spinning around behind him.
"There!" he says, drawing a wand-like device from his pocket. It extends with a flick of a button and a faint whirrirrrirrr can be heard from it, and the communicator pops open on the ground.
From the communicator comes the ghostly image of Professor Hardworthy, recording a message into it. The newcomer, this...Doctor, stares intently at the Professor's recording, seeming to study its every detail.
You hear the Professor's voice again, speaking into the microphone of the device Viola was carrying.
"This is a message for the the leash that holds the Hand of Gaia, the so-called originals that started this whole centuries-long plan." the Professor's voice says, his tone sullen and angry. "You blasted cabal, you twisted meddlers, you worthless manipulators calling yourselves Gaia's protectors. This message is for you."
"Those adventurers you sent to my door have no idea what they're in for. They have interference from those damn Guardians, about a thousand orcs, and a bomb they picked up from some traveling bums. This whole thing stinks to high heaven. You need to stop 'biding your time' and act. The World Eater is nearly here. What the hell are you waiting for? I'm recording this to tell you I've had enough. I've activated the Failsafe. I don't trust any of you anymore, if you're even still up there in your floating tower."
The Professor-hologram pauses, looking at something above behind him. The next few minutes of the recording are choppy and violent - you see an explosion send shrapnel flying into the recording's viewing iris, knocking the old man down with a severe blow to the head. Then you see Temellen striding into frame, the elf casually kicking the Professor's prone and groaning body aside as he takes the ship's controls.
The Doctor isn't paying any attention to the Professor's hardships. At the mention of "the Failsafe," he immediately turns on his heel and strides off toward his blue box, taking long steps.
"Numarians!" you hear Meatsnacks shouting, the appearance of the wild-haired woman driving him into a frenzy. In a spontaneous fit of goblin fury, he grabs the nearest Gretchin to him and bites its head clean off its shoulders, tossing its body to its hungry companions.
"KIIIIILLLLLL THEMMMMMMMM!" the Chief roars, screaming in red-hot rage.
As the screaming of the greenskins in Meatsnacks' Valley reaches a fever pitch, you hear the wild blowing of horns in the distance! Triumphant, beautiful trumpets blast notes of transcendent joy into the afternoon air!
The gobbos gathered around Meatsnacks' throne turn as one to face the music. On the crest of a tall hill about a thousand feet away, overlooking the goblins' valley to the north, a battalion of armored cavalry looks down upon you. They bear tall banners with a lioness rampant displayed proudly upon them, in fierce gold and red colors. The riders are armed with lances and flails, and judging from their height, they're either humans or elves, with some dwarves mixed in. There's at least a hundred of them - still far fewer than the number of goblins in the tribe, but they're well armed and on horseback.
A rider comes to the forefront of the armored host. Through a magically enhanced broach that she holds aloft, the rider - a woman, with no helm and long, flowing red hair, issues a challenge to you:
"WARCHIEF OF THE GOBLINS! WE ARE THE ALLIANCE OF NUMARIA! WE ARE HERE TO PUT YOU DOWN, AND END YOUR WAR BEFORE YOU CAN START IT! YOU WILL CLAIM NO MORE INNOCENT LIVES AGAIN, VERMIN! SURRENDER AND YOU WILL BE GRANTED A MORE MERCIFUL DEATH THAN YOU EVER GRANTED YOUR VICTIMS! YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO COMPLY!"
The tall stranger looks a bit ruffled by Dambreth's words. With a tug at his jacket, he steps out of the strange blue box he just materialized out of. "If you must know, I'm the Doctor. The temporal energies that have just been...blown up less than a kilometer from here are some of the most unstable I've seen in...a long time," he finishes, glancing at each of you.
"There, now, I've told you who I am. Are you with the Hand of Gaia or not?" his British accent sounds a bit...frayed.
Sinathel:
You instantly discern that there's far more to this box than meets the eye...obviously, since most boxes don't materialize out of thin air. You can tell from subtle displacements of natural energies around the ship that it is immense, far bigger on the inside than the outside; it boggles your mind, it must be some illusion, but that is what you see.
As for the man himself...you see years written on his face in obvious wrinkles, but also in less obvious ways. You feel an immediate mistrust for this man. Not necessarily for what he's saying, but something on a deeper level than that.
You're all in control though, as he's asking you a question.
Tutti: The wood loses much of its voice when it is cut down, hewn, measured, cut again, polished, and enchanted with spells; but its voice does remain, as it was once true wood formed from a living tree. The effect on it's "voice" to you is that you have trouble understanding the "words" that it "speaks" to you. You know instantly that this chest was made from wood that is not local to these forests. It's wyrmwood, grown in tall deciduous forests north of here, in the Lands of the Barbarian Kings.
The chest is proud; as proud as wood can be, anyway - that it contains a monstrous beast, a beast that is now sleeping restlessly - a beast that repeatedly makes attempts to escape the crate by clawing the insides. It's quite unpleasant, the wood reports.
Retzack, your goggles pierce the wooden barriers: You see this, resting on its side facing away from you. Judging by the height of its shoulders even when lying down, the creature must stand 18 feet high or more when it's on all four feet.
Prox, a Front has been advanced elsewhere in the world due to your failed roll...the effects of this will be made clear to you shortly.
Meatsnacks is raising his body up off his throne surrounded by food. "GOBBOS!" he bellows, his voice carrying easily over all the commotion the tribe is making. All fall silent and stare at the Big Boss expectantly.
"MOST OF YAS ARE SCRAWNY, WEAK, COWARDLY GREENSKINS! BUT NOT MY WARBAND GENERALS! NO! I SENT THEM AWAY TO KILL THE DROW ELVES AND THEIR PUNY TOWER, AND WHAT DO THEY DO? THEY LITERALLY KILL THE TOWER ITSELF! MARVEXA HAS CONFIRMED WHAT BLIBBERBLAB TOLD US IN HER VISIONS! THANKS TO THESE ROWDY GENERALS' SUCCESSES, I HAVE SELECTED THEM TO BEGIN...THE FINAL WAAAAAGH!"
The whole tribe erupts in shouting at his words, shouts of "WAAAAAAGH!" can be heard all around you and your fodder goblins - especially the new recruits - all begin to flex up their chests and bully the other goblins for not getting recruited by you.
Marvexa is next to the box now, ordering the hobgoblins to climb over the crate and unlock the chains that are wrapped completely around it.
Dambreth attempts to think on what Temellen could actually be, but Viola's incessant drumming causes him a headache, and his glare at her throws off her rhythm a little. Both of you take -1 forward to spellcasting of all kinds.
As you all gather together to compare notes, you begin to hear a sound. Slowly at first, the sound grows steadily louder and louder.
About 20 feet away from where you're all standing, this materializes out of thin air. The low vrumming of the engines slowly whirrs to a halt.
The door in the side of the strange blue box abruptly opens. A strange man pokes his head out of the door, narrows his eyes, and coughs. He peers from one face to another, each of you in turn, then steps out of the box fully. He is smartly dressed, wearing a long thin coat that comes down to his knees and buttoned at the waist. He raises a hand to you all in greeting, and says, "Excuse me, but I need to know if I'm in the right place. Are you the Hand of Gaia?"
A new dawn rises on the greenskins' domain. There are fresh cries from the slave pits, screeching flocks of carrion birds wheeling overhead, a goblins, lesser orcs, hobgoblins, and beasts of burden as far as the eye can see.
Around the longhouse of Chief Meatsnacks, many of the revelers of the previous evening - the warband leaders excluded, of course - wake up to find themselves robbed of all their possessions by those goblins who could hold their intoxicants better and remain conscious. This is commonplace for goblin parties. Some goblins are dead, stabbed in your usual inter-family or personal rivalries gone sour. Blood and puke can be found nearly everywhere.
Chief Meatsnacks is at the center of it all. Food is heaped high around him like an edible fortress, with the massive goblin reclining lazily in the center of it. The Chief's appetite seems to be finally sated after a full night's nonstop eating, drinking, and shouting.
Retzack:
The fruits of your experimentation:
The broach in the shape of a black widow spider grants the wearer the following Advanced Move:
Tiny Spider Shapeshift:
Change into a Tiny spider. While in this form you are very easy to overlook, and you possess a surprisingly debilitating venom, should you get close enough to your target.
The stiletto deals an additional 1d6 damage against foes with heavy armor. This damage ignores armor.
The small hand mirror can be used as a Focus for divining magic. Once per day you may ask it to show you something somewhere in the world; if it is within the mirror's limited scope of power, it will attempt to show it to you.
It's well into the afternoon by the time most of the tribe is active and moving around. Meatsnacks begins bellowing to all of you at around 2ish PM, in much the same way as he summoned you to your first mission. Like before, Marvexa the shaman is also present, leaning on her staff and staring sourly at you.
This time is different, however, Marvexa is standing at the head of a huge group of laboring hobgoblins, pulling a giant boxed crate at least 20 feet tall. There are airholes cut in the sides.
The explosion can be seen, heard, and even felt by everyone in the valley's radius. The beacon's hard outer shell, incinerated by dragonflame and exposed to one of the strongest bombs ever built, collapses in on itself. The beacon's light is snuffed out, the purple lightning ceasing. Dambreth, your body still bears the scars of your close contact with the beacon; your body is aged and weakened. Take a permanent -2 to your Constitution score. However, Gaia's grace is with you; roll 3d6 and take the best result whenever you call upon Her favor for healing.
Viola, you managed to duck behind a sturdy substructure of the hull and bunker down there to endure the explosion. It works, but the pressure nearly collapses the bulkhead around you. You get pinched painfully by the metal around you being warped by the explosion's energies - take 4 damage, no armor. The communication device, the only object you had time to grab from the ship before the bomb blew, is in your inventory.
Nonetheless, you manage to get out of there with your prize from the ship intact.
Viola is the last to arrive as all of you gather near where Bolus has pulled the other Guardians clear. For a moment, after all the chaos and death you just endured, peace reigns on the battlefield.
Excellent time for an End of Session/Level Up move! I realize this was a fast and furious session for those of you that just joined us, but you kept up admirably. Well done to all of you who defeated Temellen the Traitor's plans and destroyed the beacon! But who is pulling Temellen's strings?
Yes! Absolutely you can make Sickfinder a hireling, that's precisely what I intended him for! (sorry, meant to reply to this and never got around to it.)
Hirelings are different from Fodder Goblins in that they can take some initiative on their own. His only cost is appreciation and regard - the drow scientists who were experimenting on him gave him neither. Make sure you praise him when he tries to help you, or he could develop some resentment...his stats as you proposed are otherwise fine.
Despite his appearance, Sickfinder does understand the words you say; he just can't speak your language, due to the modifications done to his tongue. He will also remember orders issued to him, though he's unable to communicate himself.
