4e PHB, page 160. Ray of Enfeeblement. Range, line of sight, line of effect. Thats rays covered :-)
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Sorry for the double post - I also meant to say - I find supplements that fill in all the blanks, even if the players are never going to uncover the information, leave me a little cold. Its all there, on the slab, so to speak. I like a little mystery - keeps me coming back for more :-)
This is something thats been croping up here abouts quite a lot latelly - "Give me an answer, and make sure its canon". I dunno, I know the OP said they bought supplements so that they dont have to make stuff up, but isnt that kinda where the fun comes from? Making stuff up with your buddies? There's more than enough info out there for people to build and run entire campaigns without ever having to make anything up, and thats if you limit yourself only to Paizo's stuff - I have years worth of game sitting on my shelf, and I'll probably never get 'round to using it all up - not least because I love making up stuff. I'm rambling - I guess what I was trying to say is there's plenty of material out there that doesnt need any extra work - this is one small thing, if its no good to you, pass it by. And if its cool or intreaguing to you as far as it goes, then maybe its worth filling in the blanks on, at some point.
What do I want Paizo to do? Who am I? nobody, really. Just another nerd from the herd. I dont know much about business, or the gaming industry (I wimped out of the Open Call because of the tight schedule, despite long harboured ambitions). I confess I skipped most of this thread, too (its late here, I have work in the morning). But its a big question, and I'd say - what your doing now, thats what I'd want Paizo to do. Editions come and go, but great material is great material. I will probably never run Rise of the Runelords as written. Or Savage Tide, or Shackled City, or Age of Worms. Or any of the other AP's, and probably the Gamemastery series, too. But I love them all. They are just full of great ideas, intersting characters and locations, useful plot hooks and mcguffins. And they're just plain fun to read. And for as long as that continues, I'll buy whatever Paizo goodies I can get my hands on, because editions come and go, but whatever I'm running, I can never get hold of enough good material, and the lions share of the good stuff I do have comes from Paizo. If I really gotta choose an edition, I'll be with 3.5 'til my current campaign ends (hopefully not for 2-3 years yet - hey we dont game as often as we'd like, and I never was one for "fast track" level progresion). 4th? I'll wait and see - if the rules are good, maybe I'll switch, but not mid campaign. But that wont affect wether I buy Paizo stuff or not. If Paizo's stuff maintains the quality I see now, then I'll keep on buying it. Sorry, I rambled a bit (did I say it was late? ;-) ), but hopefully you got the idea.
Working on it.
Thats a great idea Bram, and I've been looking for a way to bring in some Quori spirits to my Eberron game for my Kalashtar and Psiforged players to go up against - *yoink* ;-) I love the maps of mystery, they're generally cool and useful. To be honest though, I love maps in general, and will beg, borrow or steal them from whichever adventure they turn up in and use them for purposes other than originally intended :-)
I gotta say, Yotar, it wasnt a 1st level spell that killed your dragon - it was gravity ;-)
I'm running all three AP's in one big interwoven campaign. Its a crazy, crazy idea - it might just work! Its set in Ebberon, Sharn is the major city for all the AP's, and I'll be adding in the shadows of the last war/whisper of the vampires blade/grasp of the emerald claw and voyage of the golden dragon along with some Dungeon adventures and some stuff of my own. There will have to be much Daelkyr/Lords of Dust/Emerald Claw/Lord of Blades/Dragon Bellow/The Dreaming Dark type tweaking, but games are about once a month, so I have plenty of time, and there are 7 players, so the experience points are stretched a little further. I'm also cutting a number of encounters, and uping the CR's/EL's a little. By coincidence, the party will get to Diamond Lake as winter sets in, having started the game calendar on the approximate real world start date (mid september). i've been looking forward to the winter theme. PS: if this post ends up being one of two very similar ones here by me - I just lost one, and it doesn't seem to want to appear, so I re-wrote it. And this time its a cut and paste job ;-)
We're looking at a creature with (at least) DR 5/- I wouldn't allow a non-damage, 0 lvl spell to get by that. The thing also has alertness, dodge, combat reflexes and mobility - I'm not going to have it make a reflex save against a non-attack spell. Trying to reduce a raging inferno with a barrel of water isn't nearly the same as drowning someone in the barrel of water. At the same time, I'm going to tell the player before they go ahead and do it anyway - "that is almost certainly going to have no effect on the elemental - still want to try?" I think the only concensus reached is that every DM runs a different game. Which is no bad thing.
The seventh member of our merry band has a character, and this is how his opening scene's played out... PC's: Caro d'Thuranni - an out of favour dragon marked lesser scion of the house. Sent from Regalport to learn "how to be useful" and "proper respect for the House" in Sharn. A swashbuckler and an Elf. Zol, 17th Rhaan, 997: It has been noted by agents of House Thuranni that there have been an increased number of burglaries and disappearances in and around the Clifftop region of Sharn in recent months, but the House hasn't had much resource or reason to investigate. Until Caro arrived. So tonight finds him prowling the highways and by-ways of Clifftop, perching on gargoyles and squinting from spires, looking for a lead. He has passed the last few nights this way, and aside from noticing a few more goblins at large than might be expected in this part of the city, so far nothing has turned up. He's about to give it up for the night and go find a cosy gambling den when he hears sounds of a disturbance, and calls for the watch coming from inside the tower he is lurking on. Hurrying to the scene he passes a cleric of the Host and a well to do looking young man, apparently unaware of the recent commotion. Arriving at a nearby alley, he finds an unconscious goblin. Someone seems to have struck him on the head with a mostly blunt implement, and then healed his wound. At the back of the alley, Caro finds scuff marks indicating someone had climbed up here recently. he climbed up himself, but found the rooftops deserted. Droping back down, he revived the goblin, and asked a few questions. The goblin seemed adamant that he and his friend "Wurt" had been minding their own business when some human had bashed him on the head for no reason. A bit more questioning and some twisting of words later, it came out that the goblind had been hassling some "nosey parker" when they had been assaulted. Deciding to go for all out intimidation, Caro slammed the goblin against the wall and tried making threats. Apparently not used to this sort of rough stuff, he lost his grip on the goblin and it ran off, out into the street and away. With the sound of watch whistles drawing closer, Caro went back down the alley, climbed to the roof, and found a convenient balcony to lurk on. From here he heard the watch arrive and start asking passers by questions. Finding his way back down to a side street, he approached the watchmen and asked about what had happened. they had no real information, and in return he gave vague reports of a commotion that he had heard and not seen. Finding a narrow ledge overlooking several sky bridges, Caro huddled out of the rain to watch again. Soon the empty streets brought him the sound of voices - speaking in goblin and laughing raucously. His goblin-speak was a little rusty, but he caught enough about "a decent hall" to convince him they where up to no good. As the two goblins set foot on the bridge, he dived on the one with what looked like a sack of loot over his shoulder, and tackled him to the ground. Standing, he planted a foot on the downed goblin, and pointed his rapier at the other. The sack lay on the ground between them. The standing goblin made a grab for the bag, and got a rapier slash to the face - enough to send him wailing into the night, the bag and his friend forgotten. Seizing his opportunity, the second goblin squirmed out from under Caro's boot and fled. Cursing, Caro grabbed the bag of loot, then whirled to face someone he caught sneaking up on him. A half-elf in a long grey coat. The stranger diffused the tension, but only a little, when he spoke. "Well handled, you recovered the goods. Sadly, I wont now be able to trail those two back to their associates. Fario Elgoth*, licensed Inquisitive". Turns out he'd been tracking the goblins from a nearby metal-smiths they appeared to have robbed. They joined forces and made to return the stolen loot. Only to find "Gunsons, Dwarven Metalsmiths" deserted. The double bed was still warm to the touch, but there where no signs of a struggle. Some small valuables had been taken (the contents of the bag) but nothing else. This, it seemed was the first direct linking of the disappearances and burglaries. And it added a new connection - the goblins. Fario wondered if there might be a connection with kidnapping at the Clifftop Orphanage a few nights before - one of the children recalled a "nightmare" about a goblin like creature. They agreed to meet up the next day and investigate. Fario went to report to the watch, Caro found a gambling hall. And lost, but he had a good time, so who cares? Stumbling home in the small hours, he found a note waiting for him - sealed by a Thuranni signet. The note gave him new instructions - to meet with one Lavinia ir'Voren (regular Dungeon readers might recognise her by her published name - Vanderboren - I Eberronised ;-) ) tomorrow, and render unto her such of House Thuranni's services as he could. It seemed legitimate, and he reckoned he could be done in plenty of time to meet up with Fario. Wir, 18th Rhaan, 997: Waking in plenty of time, Caro groomed up and put on his best out fit before setting off to meet with nobility. The ir’Voren manse was a relatively modest affair, but spoke of quality and enough money to be interesting. Once ushered into the presence of fair Lavinia, Caro listened to her tale of woe. She had recently inherited the family estate, and a large number of the family debts, too. She had been cashing in such assets as she could, but one, a new ship by the name of “Wave Dancer” (aka: The Blue Nixie, for any Dungeon regulars that might be following along - I also switched to the deck plan of “Darkmaidens Dance“), which belongs to the ir’Vorens, has been impounded by the harbourmasters office, pending payment of berthing arrears. Arrears that Lavinia paid to one Soller Vark, the Harbour Masters man, three days ago. And still she is refused access to the ship. Enquiries at the Harbourmasters Office show no payment has been received. “Could House Thuranni look into it? I hear you’re quite good at this sort of thing”. So Caro heads down to the docks, in the area of pier 5, where the Wave Dancer is said to be moored. At pier 5 he finds Wave Dancer has been moved - she sits at anchor some 100 yards off the pier head. Observing for a while, he sees that there are several people on board, clearly on watch. He mingles with the dockside crowd, having changed from his nobles attire to something more fitting. He soon has a loose tongued old salt giving him the skinny on the pier 5 situation. The Harbour Master for this section of the docks - Kelter Islaran - is a no good drunkard, and his right hand man, Soller Vark, is a two bit criminal with a mean streak. Caro stuck around to watch the Wave Dancers guards some more, hoping they might come ashore. Alas, no such luck, the new shift came from below decks, and the previous watchers went below. He was going to need help if he was going aboard to look around. Later that afternoon Caro met up with Fario again. Explaining his new interest, they gathered up their gear and headed down to pier 5 that evening. There they “borrowed” a row boat, and made their way through the moored vessels to the shadow of “Wave Dancer” without being seen. Once alongside, Caro climbed up a rope, and secured his own with a grappling hook. Slipping quietly on deck, he hid alongside one of the ships boats. As the lookouts paced the deck, one kicked him. “Oi, did’nt see you down there. You been at Varks, grog again? E’ll ‘ave yer, ‘e will”. Moving fast, Caro grabbed the unsuspecting thug, and heaved him overboard. The alarm raised, he lunged at the other guard with his rapier, inflicting a mere flesh wound. The guard ran and jumped off the ship. As Fario hauled himself aboard, two more thugs emerged from the forward hatch. “Get ‘em” they yelled, and charged to attack. They took bowfire for their efforts, and one went to launch a boat and escape. the other had to be put down by Caro’s rapier, but not before he nicked Fario’s arm with his own blade. Two more thugs emerged forward, and an ugly bald fellow with a cutlass burst from the cabin to stern. Fario shot at the thugs, as Caro squared off against Vark, for it was he. Things turned bad. Fario’s arrows shot wide, and Vark put a solid hit on Caro - another would drop him. Calling on the power of his dragon mark, Caro plunged the deck into pitch blackness. Back pedalling he grabbed Fario and sidestepped to an area of deck that should be outside the magical effect. It was, and the two of them made up onto the stern deck, and dropped through the hatch there into the galley. Directly below them was another trapdoor - from below came the sound of something big crashing around. Fario handed Caro a small vial - he drank it, and some of his vigour returned. Up on deck, Soller Vark could be heard yelling “They’re on to us! Burn the ship! Burn it! Burn them all!”. Peeking cautiously through the trapdoor at their feet the intrepid duo caught a whiff of smoke - and sight of some man sized spider thing thrashing around the room below. The shut the door quick, and a moment later it becan to heave and clatter as something thumped against it from below. Outside, they heard more yelling and several splashes. As they made their way back topside, a splintering crash came from below, followed by a persons horrified scream. Caro got the impression someone had just seen the last thing they would ever lay eyes on. Dispelling the darkness, they found the deck deserted, and smoke beginning to waft up from the cargo hatch amidships. They grabbed a water barrel from the galley and dragged it over to the cargo hatch. Opening it up, they saw flames below - not serious yet, but they would be very soon. as they poured water down into the hold, something big, multi-legged and splattered with gor emerged from the forward hatch. The dropped the barrel and shot arrows at the thing, one hit barely registering with the creature. It lunged at them with club-like forelimbs lined with hooks and suckers, hitting Fario with one of its palps. Though large, the beast was quick and its chitinous hide hide tough. Still, Caro was able to give it a scratch with his rapier. It latched onto Fario with both palps now, and lunged with its monstrous jaws - Fario managed to jerk his head away, but it still ripped a grievous wound in his shoulder, and he passed out. Caro was torn - though the potion had helped, he was still in bad shape, and this thing looked like it was unstoppable. But Fario was doomed if he ran now. So he lunged again, and struck the thing in one of its larger eyes, which squelched gruesomely as the rapier pierced it. And kept on going, until it was hilt deep in the creatures body! (Critical hit! Max damage!). The spider beast spasmed and lurched about the deck, tearing the sword from Caro’s hand, and then expired in a twitching heap on the deck. Checking Fario was alive, he tended the half-elfs wounds as best he could, and did a quick tour of the ship. It was deserted, except for a few loose parrots and a monkey, escaped from the charnel house of animal bodies that was the cargo hold. Here he also found a human woman, torn in two by the jaws of the spider thing. Up on deck, Fario had regained consciousness, and quaffed another of the potions he had given Caro earlier. Caro left him to watch over the ship whilst he went to find Lavinia, and see if she could arrange for some more help. Like the others, Caro earned enough exp to achieve level 2. *Turns out Fario Elgoth is a corruption of Fario Ellegoth, from SCAP - I thought I'd lifted the character wholesale, but apparently not :-)
Two more of the players have worked up characters, and begin their adventures. We 'flashback' a few days to pick up the start of their story... PC's: "Freya" - "Human" female rogue (inquisitive). Until recently apprenticed to the Inquisitive Fario Elgoth, now struck out on her own. Thrad - Psiforged Psion (seer). Recently arrived in Sharn, with only hazy memories of what happened before he emerged from the Mournland. Zol, 17th Rhaan, 997: It was a miserable night in Sharn, rain and wind, like so many others. Freya and Thrad made their separate ways across the Clifftop district of the city, trying to keep out of the worst of the weather. Spying a covered bridge, they made for the cover it offered. As he approached, Thrad spotted something on the bridge - a lump of something, a pile of rubbish perhaps. Entering the bridge from different ends, the two wanderers saw a hooded figure near the middle of the bridge. It stepped away from what was increasingly likely to be a body, climbed to one of the arches that supported the roof and disappeared into the rain. Thrad made over to the body. An older human mail was clearly dead - stabbed. Freya stepped to the arch and looked out - of the hooded figure there was no sign. A quick search of the corpses pockets revealed its identity - Bonal Geldem, Provost of the department of pre-Galifar Studies at Morgrave University. A flash of lightning illuminated the bridge - there, standing in the nearest archway - on the other side of the bridge from the on it had left through, was the cloaked figure. Clearly a warforged, with a bloodied scimitar clutched in one hand. It exhorted Thrad to join it in some sort of crusade against "the fleshies". Calm as you like he slammed it in the chest with his quarterstaff. The cloaked warforged wind-milled its arms for a second, and then fell, plummeting backwards into oblivion. Thrad watched until it fell out of sight. The wind carried excited voices - "Murder!" "Did you see that? They Murdered that man!" "Call the Watch!". Freya searched the corpse again, turning up an apple, a few coins, and a strange looking Journal with what looked like a House Cannith emblem on the front. The sound of a Watchman's whistle sounded nearby. Freya and Thrad looked at each other, and decided to run. They got no further than the end of the bridge when a gravely voice suggested that "maybe it'd be good to wait for the Watch to get here, let them sort this out". Thrad could just make out a small figure in a fedora and long brown leather coat pointing a crossbow at them from the cover of a nearby statue. The Gnome kept them talking long enough for the watch to arrive. Sergeant Dolom, officer in charge, took everyone's statement, and declared that everything seemed in order, although maybe "you good folks should leave this sort of thing to the Watch, especially you", he said, pointing at the gnome. Apparently Gernezo Flintwhistle has a bit of a reputation as a vigilante. The Watch dealt with, Freya decided to go to the University, to hand over the journal - although it seemed blank now she'd had time to check it - and inform them of Provost Geldem's unhappy passing. Thrad had been looking for somewhere to study, anyway, and tagged along. Gerenzo bade them goodnight and made his own way. At the University, a hooded elf stopped them. "If you would learn more of what happened tonight, go to the Broken Anvil at dawn". He showed a gloved hand bearing a House Cannith signet, and then disappeared into one of the University buildings. Agreeing to meet up at the Broken Anvil, Freya decided to hang on to the journal, and slipped home. Thrad passed the night in study the University library. Wir, 18th Rhaan, 997: Freya arrived at the Broken Anvil early, found herself a nearby vantage point and waited. Maybe 40 minutes later a glamorously dressed human woman arrived, with the hooded elf from the night before. They had a brief discussion at the door with a young halfling man. She went inside, the elf left. Twenty minutes later, at precisely dawn, Thrad arrived and went inside. Freya followed him in. The woman turned out to be no less a personage than Elaydren d’Cannith. She had been working with Bonal Geldem to recover an ancient Cannith artefact, which the Provost believed he had traced to a thousand year old workshop somewhere beneath Sharn. Unfortunately, without Geldem’s journal, there was no way to find it. To Elaydren’s delight Freya produced the journal, and after Elaydren touched her Cannith signet to the symbol on the cover, its contents became visible. Before she would reveal more, Elaydren asked if the two erstwhile adventurers would be prepared to recover the artefact she sought. They agreed - for a price. A reward of 800gp was readily agreed, 100 each in advance. The journal directed them to the lowest inhabited level of Dorasharn tower, in eastern Sharn. There they would need to find valve cluster E-213 in the sewer system. Somewhere near there they should find a passage sealed by the House Cannith symbol. Behind this, believed Geldem, they would find an ancient Cannith worshop. And there should be the artefact sought - a seven pointed adamantium star, about five inches across, bearing strange symbols. A scheme, for use in the crafting of who knew what? With only a brief pause to collect their gear, freya and Thrad set off. Thrad carried all of his possessions with him, and made straight for Dorasharn tower. There he searched in vain for the valve cluster. As he did so, a strange bird-man creature took a shine to his ambulatory psicrystal. “Waaaaark!” proclaimed the birdman as it tried to grab the crystal. “Wark! Wark! Warrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk!” it shrieked as Thrad smacked it on the head with his club. “Wark, wark-wark-wark-wark! Warrrrk? Waaaark!” it jabbered as it ran off. Thrad gave up the search, and waited for Freya. When Freya turned up they searched again, but still could not find the valve cluster they sought. Or any sewer enrance, for that matter. I goblin vendor at a street market pegged them for affluent upper-city folk. He offered them rat on a stick. And gnawed candles. Then a mouldy blanket. All the while he probed them for what they might be looking for. As the buyers cleared out, they suggested it might be a certain sewer entrance. Skakan, the goblin, offered to show them - for 100sp. Freya offered him 1sp, and to let him keep breathing. He readily agreed. A shifter, who seemed to have been rather obviously watching them, hurried off. Skakan led them to the concealed entrance of valve cluster E-213, and hurried off, his breathing and his 1sp safe and sound. The entrance was a dark stairway leading down - Thrad lit his bullseye lantern and sealed the door behind them. Freya slipped into the shadows. Perhaps thirty feet down, the stairs turned, and the sounds of gushing water could be heard. Glancing up as they turned the corner, Freya spotted a warforged wedging itself up amongst the ceiling arches. “Hand over the journal, and you may yet live!” it intoned. They refused, and it dropped down to attack. It was no match for the two of them, and was dispatched in short order. Then its shifter allies arrived, a little late for the main event. Thrad went toe to toe with them, Freya dodged past them, and made to run off down the stairs. Thrad was outmatched, but took only a minor hit. Freya didn’t run out on him, but turned to fire her hand crossbow into the shifters backs. A couple more shots put one down, and the other fled. They let him go. As they searched the warforged’s inert body, a metallic object sprang from its chest with a distinct “ping!”. It unfolded delicate wings, a head and tail, and flew off down into the sewers. They didn’t see this as a good thing. Down in the sewers they passed a dozen or so effluent spewing valves. A series of metal bars and grates dictated their movement through the sewers - luckily they didn’t have to go far to go before finding the Cannith seal, on a circular metal plate, some three feet across. Freya searched it for traps. None. So she tried opening it. Only to be sprayed by acid - magical trap, from the way the symbol flashed as it happened.. Luckily, Freya had managed to twist away from the worst of the spray, and was only slightly hurt. Then she remembered the journal, and touched it to the seal, it flashed brightly, and a distinct click. It lifted open easily. Beyond was a vertical shaft, 5 feet wide, and who knew how deep... Securing a rope to the hinges of the seal, Freya lit a sunrod and climbed down the shaft. At 50ft, the rope was just long enough. At the bottom was a dusty passageway, leading into a wider area up ahead. Pausing only to squish a fist sized beetle that menaced her, Freya set off to explore. Reaching the large (or even vast) chamber, Freya saw more of the beetles. They began to swarm. Hundreds of them. Towards her. She ran through the chamber, the beetles following her, and ducked into a side tunnel. Still the beetles came. She ran on, and rounded a bend. But the tunnel had collapsed in ages past - dead end! Panicked, Freya stuffed the sun rod into her pack, and cowered against the rubble - the beetle swarm had blocked the tunnel when last she saw it. Luckily, though some brushed against her, the main swarm turned back before it came close enough to find her. Waiting whilst it dispersed, Freya stomped any that came to close. Thrad decided his human associate had been gone to long, and climbed onto the rope. He then closed the seal, wedging it with an armour plate he’s cannibalised from the fallen warforged earlier, so that it would not lock shut, and so the hinges would not close over the rope and cut it. He started to climb, and then almost lost his grip and plunged to his doom - luckily he gained a fresh hold on the rope before he fell too far. The two met up in the large chamber, where they saw many ruined buildings and walls. Skirting behind a wall to avoid to large, festering rat things the size of small dogs, they made towards the most intact looking structure. Sure enough it was the workshop they sought. The doors where locked. Not trapped, as far as Freya could tell, but any magical traps that might be there, she confessed where beyond her ability to detect. Pressing the journal to the door had no effect. Seeing that a stone column had at some time fallen in through the roof, and remained wedged there, Thrad saw no reason to risk the doors being trapped, and scrambled up the wall. Sure enough, the hole in the roof was big enough to grant access. Freya joined him on the roof. Down below, their lights revealed a workshop, piles of rubble, and an inert mechanical dog half buried by the fallen roof and column. Sliding down the column, they entered the workshop. Only to be attacked by another of the mechanical dogs - this one fully functional. It bit Freya viciously - with Thrad still being damaged from the shifter fight, they knew that one more such bite would finish either of them. A desperate flurry of club blows and rapier thrusts disabled the “dog-forged”, and as it fell a triangular metal rod, perhaps a foot long, sprang from its forehead. They searched the crushed dog, and it yielded a pentagonal bar. Searching the workshop the found tools and mundane items, but no schema. They noted that the area around the forge had metal floor plates, the central one having three holes in it - pentagonal, triangular and rectangular. Digging in the rubble, the found a third, thankfully disabled, “dog-forged”. They pulled a rectangular bar from its head. Thrad took the bars, and inserted the rectangular one into its slot. Arcs of lightning sprang from the metal floor and played over and through his warforged frame. Blasted by such power, his body locked up and keeled over. Luckily Freya had been at the other end of the room. She dragged Thrad off the plated floor, and tied a rope around the ceiling spars, and suspended herself low enough that she could just drop the rods into the holes. She started with the triangle, and was wracked by another blast of the lightning as it blasted up from the metal floor. Zor, 19th Rhaan, 997. Freya eventually came too, swinging gently from her make-shift harness. The smell of scorched hair and metal still lingered. She had no idea how much time had passed, but her sunrod had ceased to give off light, so it must have been some time. She lowered herself, and dressed her wounds as best she could. Then she took Thrad’s repair kit, and set to using her armour-smithing knowledge to repairing him, hopefully he was still repairable. Many hours later, Thrads crystals flashed back into life and he regained consciousness. Starting with the pentagon, and Thrad now using his mind-powers to move the bars from a safe distance, they succeeded in opening up the Cannith Vault. Within they found hundreds of coins - gold and silver, and 5 potions of various sorts. They also found an old map, and the much sought after schema. Still badly hurt, they decided that Freya should rest, whilst Thrad used the time to affect further repairs. And so ended this second session - Thrad and Freya having gained enough exp to make second level.
I'm assuming the Sorcerer has no access to tongues/comprehend languages. Easiest is to let some of the rank and file lizard folk know enough common for a parley, if only to reduce the diplomacy check DC to something a bit more manageable. Or maybe the lizard folk druid is doing their own round of talk with animal/plants, and one tells them about the outsiders they where talking to the other day... also sets up the possibility for a meeting with someone other than the king first.
Zol, 10th Rhaan, 997: After months of training, prayer and indoctrination, Dauntless arrives (by lightning rail) at Flamekeep, to be fully recognised as a paladin in service o the Silver Flame, and to receive his first assignment. His escort to the Cathedral is Taran, also a paladin of the Silver Flame. They exchange awkward small talk as they walk through the city. Until, that is, Taran orders Dauntless to "stay back!" and challenges an apparently random person - "In the name of the Silver Flame, stand-fast!". His "victim" turns out to be a shifter with catlike features and a curved sword. The following fight is short, and ends badly when Taran is disarmed and then stabbed with a poisoned dagger. Dauntless charges in at this point, but the shifter leaps gracefully upwards, and using the warforged's armoured head as a stepping stone, he ascends to a nearby rooftop and escapes. A small contingent of Thrane Knights and Silver Flame clerics arrive to investigate the disturbance, and carry Taran off to have his wounds seen to and take Dauntless to the Cathedral. There he is inducted into the Church of the Silver Flame by Cardinal Moran, and given his first assignment - travel to Sharn, and report to Bishop Lorogan, in the Hopes Peak district. Fortunately, the Church has provided a pre-paid lightning rail ticket. News of Taran comes later in the evening - sadly, he did not survive being poisoned by the shifter. He did, however, have clutched in one of his hands a small coin like object - silver, with a hole in the centre, and a pattern in the form of two intertwining lines forming a circle on one side. No one seems interested in this item, and Dauntless is allowed to keep it. Wir, 11th Rhaan, 997: In the morning, a lightning rail train leaves Flamekeep, carrying Dauntless on the six day journey south to Sharn. Zol, 17th Rhaan, 997: Having parted company with the "Dusklight Caravan", which he had hired on with as a guard to make the journey down from the Talenta Plains, in the early hours Rathan woke near noon. It had been a mild night, so he camped out under the stars, rather than stay at the inn at First Tower. Gathering his belongings, he saddled up his trusty clawfoot and rode south -Sharn ho! By mid afternoon he was well on his way, and could see just ahead a person from one of the taller races plodding towards the City of Towers. Moments later a wild boar came squealing out of the bushes, directly towards the weary traveller ahead. Seeing that the other traveller had frozen in shock and was still in the boars path, he charged at her, hoping by his skill in the saddle to knock her aside rather than mow her down. It worked, but the young human woman was knocked senseless. The boar sped past, and kept on going. Rathan's efforts to wake the woman, and then assure her he wasn't some kind of dangerous mad-man where interrupted by three men in ragged Cyran style dress emerging from the forest, and wondering, since their boar had escaped, what dinosaur might taste like. They never found out - after the dinosaur rider charged two and dispatched them with his spear, the third high-tailed it back into the Kings Forest - Rathan let him go. Rather distressed by these events, and witnessing the clawfoot make a meal of one of the allen bandits, the you woman made of towards Sharn once more. It wasn't too long before Rathan caught up with her again. This time, they got on a little better, and Rathan offered to escort Hariel Rifter (regular dungeon readers might remember her better by the name Hrodel). Upon receiving his identity papers and finally gaining entry to the city, Rathan set about finding his second Cousin (twice removed), Horster, whose letters "back home" had drawn him to Sharn. Not trusting to the "flying row-boats", he set out on foot. Well, on dinosaur foot. Some hours later he arrives at the Broken Anvil Tavern, in the Callestan district, only to find that Horster works some nights at a soup-kitchen/homeless shelter over in Clifftop some nights, and this is one of those nights. Within the hour, and despite it being a typically wet night in Sharn, he finally finds him, and they settle down to some surprisingly good (well, Horster is a minor member of House Ghallandra) free food, and have a good long chat. Meanwhile... Elsewhere in Clifftop, our cleric is hustling back to his apartment through the rain, having spent another day engrossed in the library at Morgrave University. Passing a dingy side street, he hears a cry of alarm and a guttural voice warning "you'll stay out of our business if you know what's good for you". Taking a cautious look, he sees a pair of goblins menacing a well dressed young fellow. Like any good citizen, he calls for the watch. At this one o the goblins turns on him, and tells him "get lost, none o' your business". The man, seeing his clerics accoutrements , asks if he might possibly help him out of this predicament. A crossbow bolt and some stern words from our cleric don’t seem to cause the goblins too much doubt. Bashing one unconscious with a morning star, though, sets the other running or his life. They let him go. The young man is Morovan Klompf, a barrister making a late call at clients request, when he was waylaid by the goblins. He doesn’t really know what they where warning him about, though. Then a voice rings out from above, and they spy a hooded figure with its face painted with a black and white tragedy/comedy mask. “You got lucky this time, but heed the warning - stay out of our affairs, or you’ll be sorry”. And then the figure is gone. Turns out that Klompf is on his way to the orphanage in the lower reaches of Clifftop, to discuss the kidnapping of some of the children, the night before last. Our cleric agrees to see him safely there, and suggests that perhaps this is the business the goblins had in mind. The barrister seems slightly bemused by this notion. The orphanage, it turns out, is next door to a homeless shelter of some sort, which rather oddly has a saddled dinosaur hitched outside. The introductions with the orphanage matron (one Neiva Flanister) have barely been made when the proceedings are interrupted by a child’s scream. The matron races up to the dorm, our cleric close behind. There they find a little boy, Andro, crying in the doorway and burbling “it was in Jenny’s head!”. General pandemonium ensues as to dozen or so under 7’s burst in to tears. Next door, Rathan is perturbed by all the noise, especially when he learns its coming from an orphanage. He goes to the door to see what is going on. No evil is detected by our cleric, and the children are eventually settled. Jenny seems perfectly fine. Still, Andro insists “there was a monster in her head”, and despite it most likely being a bad dream, like the one he had two nights ago about a gnome with bad teeth trying to steal his breath, our cleric is concerned. The description - “a monster with all eye’s on, and tentacles, one with a big mouth on it”, is a little off, but still. It couldn’t be. Could it? There’s not much the barrister can do at this point - the watch have been round, as has a half elf inquisitive (Fario Elgoth), but so far no clues have been forthcoming. No suspicious strangers, no forced entry. Nothing. Klompf promises to see what else he can do over the next few days, and makes his way home. As our cleric is also departing, the matron stops him a moment, to ask a favour. “Find one of our former residents - a gnome named Gerenzo Flintwhistle, he might be able to help us. He can often be found at the high Green, at the inn there”. The High Green is a park at the top of one of the towers in Clifftop, and our cleric readily agrees. The outlandish looking halfling clearly eavesdropping from nearby calls our cleric over, and they discuss the nights events. Mindful of the possibility or more goblin trouble, our cleric agrees to team up with Rathan, even though he seems more interested in excitement and adventure than in actually doing good for its own sake. A little earlier... Another figure was also making its way home through the streets of Clifftop on this miserable night. Having spent a long afternoon indulging in “shop-talk” with other alchemists, Trippy Jeffminter is looking forward to getting out of the rain. Approaching an intersection, he can clearly hear the sound of running eat and barking dogs, getting closer. Then the night is shattered by a clear voice yelling “Stop! Theif!”. Two ragged human figures hurtle past Trippy, closely pursued by two large (to a gnomes eyes, anyway) winged dogs. The second running figure is felled by an arrow in the back, and Trippy looks along the street to see a finely dressed elf woman with a longbow floating down to ground level - “somebody stop him!” she shouts. As the other runner knocks one of the dogs to the ground with a mace, Trippy obliges with a shot from his crossbow, and the rag-clad figure goes down. The elf is Kaelys Tela, and the two degenerates have stolen a stone hand from her, apparently part of a statue from her collection. Before handing it over, Trippy has enough time to examine the artefact, and determine that it is magical. Initially suspicious when asked who he is and where he lives, trippy is happy to answer when talk turns to rewards. Carrying away her injured hound, which she apparently breeds, trains and sells, she Kaelys advises Trippy to check with the local House Sivis message station in the morning. About the same time... The lightning rail from Thrane finally pulls into Sharn, and Dauntless boards a skycoach and is whisked to the temple of the Silver Flame in the Hopes Peak district. There he meets Bishop Lorogan (who would be played by Brian Blessed, if this was a film). Although terribly impressed by the warforged, he has no idea why Dauntless has been sent to him. "I WOULD'VE THOUGHT THEY'D SEND YOU TO THE ARCH-HEIROPHANT!" boomed the Bishop (prompting one of the players to quip "Where's my Heirophant???" Well, we thought it was funny ;-) ). Dauntless insisted he was to report to the Bishop for orders. "FIRST I'VE HEARD OF IT, MY BOY!". Turns out one of the Bishops lesser priests, Alden Tarn, has some minor concerns that he'd like addressing, so the Bishop figures he can start there. In the morning though, as he'll be resting now. His shrine is in the Clifftop district, on the High Green. Wir, 18th Rhaan, 997: As soon as its light Dauntless accosts one of the temples minor acolytes, informs them he is off to perform his duties, and clomps of to the neighbouring district of Clifftop. He finds Alden Tarn preparing the shrine for the days activities. The impressionable priest is both surprised and impressed by the warforged paladin, and keeps him talking or some time, without really managing to say much. Eventually he explains that he's worried about another member of the order, a half-elf friar by the name of Faela - she tends an old temple down in the dangerous district of Fallen, and no one has heard from her in a few weeks. He asks if Dauntless would go and check up on her. he agrees, and sets off immediately. Trippy picks up a message from Kaelys at the message station - Meet me on the High Green two hours before noon to collect your reward. Taking one of his alchemy texts to pass the time, he sets of for the High Green. At the homeless shelter our cleric and Rathan meet up, and make for the High Green in search of one Gerenzo Flintwhistle. Up on the High Green its an unusually clear and mild day (this is Sharn, afterall - in Rhaan, no less!), and the park is bustling with all manner of folk and families. At "The Inn on the Green", Rathan and our cleric approach a gnome sat outside, his nose in a book. He's not Gerenzo Flintwhistle, he's Trippy Jeffminter. Just as this is established, Rathan spots a strange dark cloud seemingly forming out of nothing over the park. "Uhm, whats that?" he asks. As he clomps across the park, Dauntless spots a strange dark cloud, just as a nasty looking beaked creature flies out of it. With its pale blue skin, feathery wings and vicious looking beak, he doesn't think this can be a good thing. And then it attacks the first person to cross its path. Our intrepid heroes spring into action, and the four strangers manage to slay the beast after our cleric realises that they will hurt it much more quickly if they use magic, and Trippy infuses the weapons of Rathan and Dauntless with a temporary enchantment, whilst you cleric does the same for his morning star by way of divine magic. As the four are congratulating each other on a job well done and making introductions, they are interupted by Kaelys Tela, who hands Trippy his reward (50gp) and offers him a chance to earn more if he's prepared to go down to Fallen and track the would be thieves back to their lair and recover any other parts of the statue they might have. Dauntless makes it known he's already going to Fallen on a mission of his own, and as Trippy has shown himself to be an upstanding member of the community he would be prepared to assist him. It all sounds like a fine adventure to Rathan, and our cleric is intrigued by this new development. Leaving a message for Gerenzo to contact the orphanage with the barkeep at the Inn on the Green, our new band o adventurers gather what gear they need and make for Fallen. Rathan still isn't sure about these "Flying row-boats", but the others aren't keen on walking all the way to Fallen. "Its the dinosaur - I don't think he'll take to well to those things", he protests. they opt to try it anyway - it'll save time if it works, if not, no harm done. Turns out the dinosaur is just fine with the flying boat contraptions. Rathan still doesn't look too sure, but they're on their way now. Down in the dark... Fallen is a gloomy place, all in shadow and choked with rubble from the falling of the glass tower, almost 80 years before. They carefully pick their way through the rubble, and decide to ask some locals for directions. They find out that the locals don't much like outsiders asking questions. And also that maybe Dauntless shouldn't do the asking. They try another group o locals, and still not much luck is had, even when our cleric offers them money. At this point his ruthless streak shows itself, and he's all for beating answers out of the ingrate degenerates. The others decide that maybe if Rathan rides back up to more civilized regions and brings back a load of food, the like of which the folk down here have never seen, then maybe that would be better than money. The locals agree, and soon Rathan is back with the goods, and our party are on their way to Faela's temple, avoiding feral looking children and rubble-slides on the way. At the temple, Faela hides at first, but is too intrigued by Dauntless to remain so for long. The half-elf assures them she is fine and directs them to Colrac Hall, where the stone keepers can be found, after first appearing not to really know where they might be found. After a short rest they set off. They are able to avoid any o the local denizens, and make their way to Colrac Hall, which is a half demolished ruin, with an intact spire from the glass tower embedded in it. In the absence of any stealth skills between them, they decide on a plan - Dauntless will go first, which is fine by him. They explore the apparently deserted hall, finding a few items of interest in the rubble(an old copy of "The Kings of Galifar", and lots of mundane vermin ), when Rathan spots someone trying to hide behind an upturned table at the end of the spacious hall they are searching . "I see you hiding back there" he calls out, alerting the others. If there is anyone there, they don't answer. Another shouted challenge brings out a pair of bedraggled figures. These turn out to be "Pok" (I, erm, forgot his actual name (Kra), and substituted Pok on the spot, rather than flip more pages looking or the right one - it seems to fit ok ;-) ) and friend. “Pok no keeper”, it turns out. “Pok take keeper stuff” seemed to be his reason for being there. After a little more chatter, he seemed happy to show the party how to get into the Keepers lair, or “shiney place” as he called it, once he realised that they had come for much the same reason. Around the side of Colrac Hall, and through a crack in the wall, our party found themselves in a corridor leading up to a hole in the glass wall they could just make out in the gloom. They decided to check out what was behind the four doors in the corridor before going into the glass tower. They ound a fair few horrid rats, and dispatched them without too much trouble, though one did chew nearly through one of Dauntless’ legs. Luckily Trippy was able to fix him up with an infusion. They also found a fancy looking box of dark wood, about 18” long and 2-3” deep. It was locked, but rattled in a promising manner. In the third room they ran into an Allip. This undead shadow-creature stunned Rathan and Dauntless with its insane, hypnotic mutterings. the incorporeal undead proved too powerful for our cleric to turn, and physical attacks seemed not to hurt it. Our cleric used his last spell to cure the creature, reasoning that it was undead, so that should harm it. It did. And it wasn’t very happy about it. Although Rathan and Dauntless had come to their senses, they too couldn’t hurt the creature, and it was draining our clerics will rapidly. With no further magical resources to combat the creature, the party fled, and luckily the creature came no further than the doorway to its lair by way of pursuit. As they left Colrac Hall, Rathan caught sight of what looked like a dog inside the glass tower, but it seemed to vanish as he looked at it. Resting at Faela’s temple, the party drew up a plan for dealing with the Allip, and turned in, leaving Dauntless on watch. Zor, 19th Rhaan, 997. Prepared or the undead monstrosity, the party set off. Arriving at Colrac Hall they employed infusions and spells to enchant their weapons, Trippy augmenting his crossbow to be an undead bane weapon. Again the Allip hypnotised Rathan and Dauntless, and they stood transfixed. But the others were ready, and short work was made of the Allip. It took all of their resources, though, and they decided that returning to the temple to rest before proceeding was in order. Again they saw and heard a dog inside the glass tower, and again it seemed to vanish. Back at the temple, they rested whilst Dauntless kept watch. So ended the first session, with enough (just) experience or everyone to make second level.
Here-in will be chronicled an Eberron Campaign run by me, utilizing many adventures from the pages of Dungeon Magazine, official WotC Adventures, my own material, and incorporating material from no less than, uhm, three Adventure Paths (in heavily doctored form). See how many you can spot, and how I manage to keep all these balls in the air... ;-) I only ask one thing, if you're not one of my players and posting here - PLEASE,NO SPOILERS! My players might be reading - they're a good bunch, and won't use out of character knowledge, but once the surprise is sprung, it can be unsprung :-) So - PLEASE, NO SPOILERS! Thanks. Only four of the seven players are present in the first session, and their characters are - Dauntless - Warforged Paladin of the Silver Flame. Our Cleric* - Kalashtar cleric of the Sovereign Host, favouring Aureon. A Sharn resident. Rathan - a young Talenta Barbarian and his trusty clawfoot steed, heading to the big city in search of adventure. Trippy Jeffminter - gnome Artificer, recently arrived in Sharn. I'll leave it to you guys if you want to post more character info here. Oh, we should be playing once every 3-4 weeks or so. *actual name to be decided :-) EDIT: Curses! All roads lead TOO Sharn? D'oh! Anyone know how I can edit out that offending 'o'?
Erik Mona Wrote: "Care to elaborate? I am dying to know. :)" - I wouldn't pander to his ego by caring. But thats just me ;-)
Err, Assassin?
3FOE is a difficult adventure, and the concern here is, for me, anyway, that even with careful planning, it may be a TPK. ...hence my point number 2, above :-)
Umm, dont we all have computers? And its pretty unusual these days not to have a printer with one of those... Why not just download the issue's web extras, resize the map (the one with the DM's info scrubbed off),print it.....
Just a couple of thoughts inspired by Bocklins post - 1) Planning a TPK is just bad an wrong, if it happens it happens, but it cant be right for a DM to come to the table with the thought in their mind "tonight, I'm gonna wipe 'em all out". 2) The notion of a module being unbalanced because the foes are too powerful to overcome seems broken. It might say lvls 3-4 or the box, but if you figure that lvls 5-6 is better, than its down to the DM to hold off till the PC's can cut it. Or at least have a chance. Just my gut reaction.
Cheat - just mail EVERYONE who has subscribed to these here boards - there's an easy way to do that, right? :-)
Diamond Lake is actually labeled on the big, 4-part poster map of Greyhawk we presented in issues #118-#121. It's a couple hexes east of Greyhawk City. Oh well, thats how much I know :-)
You wont actually see "Diamond Lake" marked on the maps, they where drawn up long before AoW came into being... ...you can put it where you like, but the last issue of Dungeon gave locations for Diamond Lake in Eberron/Greyhawk and the FR for those that want an "offocial" location.
Well, I'm running a Star Wars campaign for our group at the moment, and so quotes from all five movies are flying around all over the place :-) Most noticably our Mon Cal Jedi shouting "its a trap" whenever he can get away with it, "its not fair" when things go wrong, paraphrasing Vader "I want (whatever) not excuses" or "asteroids/bounty hunters/darkside minons do not concern me, Admiral" and that perenial favourite "I have a bad feeling about this. Given the New Republic Diplomatic mission content of the game, and the feat of the same name, "Diplomatic Immunity!" - from one of the lethal weapon movies, is a rather common occurance, too :-)
I dont need wil save. But then, I dont NEED Dungeon, either. I imagine I'll be putting my foot straight into a 10' pit with rusty spikes at the bottom when I say I miss polyhedron.... But to get back to the point, I like wil save. Its life affirming, or something (sheesh, did I really just say that!!!). I wont miss it when its gone, and it wont influence my decission to buy (or not buy) Dungeon, but I'll read it for as long as its fun, and ignore it if it gets old before it stops being printed. "Wil Save doesn't give you any information on how to _play_the game" - except maybe that a little tolerance goes a long way :-) |