Session 002 Play Report
May 23, 2017 22:04:03 GMT -5
Admin Pete, The Semi-Retired Gamer, and 4 more like this
Post by bravewolf on May 23, 2017 22:04:03 GMT -5
Campaign: Arduous Adventures in the Kingdom of Arduin
Rule Sets: AD&D 1e - PHB, DMG, MMI&2; Arduin Trilogy & Vol. IV for additional classes, races, special abilities, & gear.
Setting: Kingdom of Arduin & Stonehell Megadungeon
The Crew:
Skip: Connor McGill, a dual-class human F1/M-U 2 by way of Earth (another campaign) plus his Irish wolfhound Dog; porter hireling Sylvie; and henchman human F1 Günther.
Adam: Grarl, trollborn F1 with demoniac ancestry. Comes from a city well north of Arduin.
Tim: Wayne, a human C1. Exceedingly good with animals.
Matthew: Draxel, an elven circus performer-turned assassin.
Session 2 Recap
The party spent the week between 16th and 23rd Torvaen in various pursuits in the city of Pavane after their brief foray into Stonehell.
McGill bought a mess of scrolls - enough to trigger the Mage’s Guild’s interest in McGill. The shopkeeper, one Gorn Zome, informed McGill that only guild members were authorized to purchase as many scrolls as the Irishman was asking. Zome offered to sign McGill up on the spot, and McGill accepted. He spent the remainder of the week learning his new spells and pulling the studs from his leather armor, finding that metal interferes with his spell casting here.
Grarl licked his wounds at home.
Wayne spent the week between his lodgings and training Coal the black bear to “come” and “stay”.
Draxel had arrived in Pavane, performed in a few minor acts with Celebrimbor’s Cirque de Collosais in the city and at the King’s Rest Inn, then parted from his troupe for what he hoped to be more remunerative activities.
On 23rd Torvaen, Grarl, Wayne, and Günther decided to try Stonehell again. Sylvie and Dog were left to mind their lodgings.
The adventurers made a brief stop at the Kings Rest Inn to have a drink and get the news. Shifty-eyed elf clad in leather armor and a dark cloak approached the party. “People around here tell me that you lot have been in Stonehell and survived. Well, I’m Draxel. I'm pretty stealthy and have other skills, like getting past traps, that you might want.”
Wayne looked at his mates, “He does seem to have something that we lack.” They agreed that Draxel should join their ranks. The gang then headed out directly.
The PCs arrived at the canyon outside Stonehell without incident. Wayne asked his mates to hold up and wait in the meadow just inside the Gates of Hell. The cleric first scrambled up the northern canyon side to peek into the mountain lion den that Aeline had pointed out last week. Wayne saw that the first cavern appeared unoccupied but had a branching passage that he could not see into. He decided not to press his luck and went to get Coal. The black bear followed Wayne and the party into Stonehell.
Lighting a torch, the PCs descended into the dungeon. Upon reaching the foyer, Draxel searched the walls for secret passages whilst the party debated which direction to take. Finding no secret doors and agreeing that the door taken last week had bad juju, the party headed south. Their corridor continued south and contained a short side passage to a parallel corridor. The party went this way. Grarl and Wayne arrived at the parallel corridor okay, but Coal activated a pit trap and fell 10 feet. After some coaxing, Coal was able to clamber out of the pit, which then reset itself. Draxel discovered a kick-stone on one wall that he believed would lock the trap. It worked, as the rest of the party passed over the trap safely.
The party traveled north and east, discovering a room filled with broken furniture and tally marks covering every inch of the walls. Finding nothing else of interest, the troupe left the room and went south. The passage turned to the east and terminated in a door. On the other side, the PCs found a room with an impressive quantity of wall carvings, all concerning dwarven religion or heroes. Five dwarves busily documented the architectural wonder. The leader of the dwarven expedition introduced himself as Snorri Broadshoulders. Conversation ensued and both parties briefly entertained joining forces. Schedules proved irreconcilable, however, so the PCs pressed on, mildly perturbed at the dwarves’ irrational disregard for the monetary wealth to be found.
The party proceeded along a passage west, then south, and finally east. “Always turn left,” McGill pronounced. Scouting a chamber to the east, the adventurers located a foul-smelling chamber chock-a-block with bones, feces, and various other offal. The whole affair undulated with chittering, giant rats. Grarl, Wayne, and Coal waded into the noxious midden, scattering rats and debris as they went. Wayne’s jo stick launched a rodent across the room prior to the hasty exit of her compadres.
Searching the room, the PCs saw that Wayne’s quarry wore a tag, on which “Precious” was written in orcish. Draxel claimed the tag. Moments later, the party heard inhuman voices shouting gleefully and much screeching to the north and east. Draxel identified the voices as orcs, and they were clearly at play with the scampering horde of rats.
Draxel slipped ahead of his mates to see what opportunities might emerge from the cacaphony. Pig-faced demihumans stood or ran about the room kicking and firing bows at the rats, which generally fled north toward an open passage. The elf quietly sidled up to the nearest Orc, put a hand over its mouth, and opened its throat with a dagger. Dragging the corpse out of sight, Draxel stole back to his fellows and filled them in on the nearby fracas.
The party moved en masse against the orcs. McGill’s sleep spell went off before anybody else could take action, and the six remaining orcs fell fast asleep. Draxel cuffed an Orc with manacles and joined Grarl in cutting the remnant’s throats. The PCs then woke the cuffed Orc and struck a deal:
D: All right, where are your friends, how many are you, and where’s the loot?
O: Wot do I get out of it?
D: You get to live! Plus, do you like this? *waves a bottle of dwarven brandy around*
O: *nods* Give us that and let me go, and I’ll tell all!
D: Done.
O: *complies, actually tells the truth*
Draxel hands over the brandy and unlocks the manacles. The Orc makes a gesture of thanks and starts off. Draxel quickly put a firm hand on the goblinoid’s shoulder and said, “Uh-uh. You drink that here.”
The Orc shrugged and quaffed the liquor. Lightning fast, Draxel pulled his dagger and gave the Orc a second smile below the chin. As life and liquor issued from the hapless creature’s gullet, Draxel hissed, “I just wanted to see dwarven booze pour out your neck.” Draxel’s mates stared in disbelief.
“Erm, Draxel, that was just *slightly* inappropriate…” Wayne reproached.
Draxel let the body slump to the floor and shuffled his feet.
The bodies looted, the party scouted the location indicated by the recently departed Orc. Again, Draxel sneaked ahead. Six orcs lounged about a table in dim lighting. Draxel correctly surmised that a stealthy attack would be difficult. He conferred with the gang.
“Why don’t we try to get the dwarves involved? They hate orcs, right?”
“Yeah, they totally hate their guts.”
“Don’t send the elf to parley, though.”
“I’m the smoothest of us all,” McGill said, “I’ll go.”
Nobody agreed with McGill’s self-assessment, but neither did anybody gain-say the wizard. Wayne gave McGill directions back to the dwarves and McGill grabbed a torch and took off. The rest quietly hunkered down in the darkness.
McGill made it to the dwarves in good order. Here is a rough paraphrase of their conversation:
M: Hello again! We found some orcs. Want to help us take them on?
D: Nah.
M: Seriously? Did I mention orcs? We’ll split the loot with you.
D: No, we’re busy here. They're all yours.
M: They are just a little ways that way! Do you want them to come get you?
D: Look, we’re not here for that. We’re under orders.
M: Isolationist dicks!! *Stalks off*
D: Did anyone ever tell you you talk funny?!
The party reunited. “The dwarves are isolationist dicks. They won’t help.”
Unbeknownst to our dungeon delvers, eight brigands chanced upon the party and maintained a reasonable distance. They debated taking the party on. “No way,” said one brigand. “They have a bear.” The brigands withdrew, but agreed to skulk and try to catch the adventurers in a weakened state.
The party opted for a frontal assault on the orcs. Draxel charged and yelled, “Party!” in orcish. Grarl followed, as did Wayne and Coal. McGill hung back with Günther and took aim with his slingshot. Grarl was wounded by an arrow in the fracas, Wayne beat down an Orc with his jo stick, and Coal mauled an Orc near Wayne. Although the PCs were not ripping through their foes, two fatalities and a marauding bear was sufficient to break their nerve. The orcs fled west down a passage the party had yet to investigate. The PCs set up a guard and prepared to locate the orcish leader.
We had to call time at that point, as the game shop was closing for the night.
Rule Sets: AD&D 1e - PHB, DMG, MMI&2; Arduin Trilogy & Vol. IV for additional classes, races, special abilities, & gear.
Setting: Kingdom of Arduin & Stonehell Megadungeon
The Crew:
Skip: Connor McGill, a dual-class human F1/M-U 2 by way of Earth (another campaign) plus his Irish wolfhound Dog; porter hireling Sylvie; and henchman human F1 Günther.
Adam: Grarl, trollborn F1 with demoniac ancestry. Comes from a city well north of Arduin.
Tim: Wayne, a human C1. Exceedingly good with animals.
Matthew: Draxel, an elven circus performer-turned assassin.
Session 2 Recap
The party spent the week between 16th and 23rd Torvaen in various pursuits in the city of Pavane after their brief foray into Stonehell.
McGill bought a mess of scrolls - enough to trigger the Mage’s Guild’s interest in McGill. The shopkeeper, one Gorn Zome, informed McGill that only guild members were authorized to purchase as many scrolls as the Irishman was asking. Zome offered to sign McGill up on the spot, and McGill accepted. He spent the remainder of the week learning his new spells and pulling the studs from his leather armor, finding that metal interferes with his spell casting here.
Grarl licked his wounds at home.
Wayne spent the week between his lodgings and training Coal the black bear to “come” and “stay”.
Draxel had arrived in Pavane, performed in a few minor acts with Celebrimbor’s Cirque de Collosais in the city and at the King’s Rest Inn, then parted from his troupe for what he hoped to be more remunerative activities.
On 23rd Torvaen, Grarl, Wayne, and Günther decided to try Stonehell again. Sylvie and Dog were left to mind their lodgings.
The adventurers made a brief stop at the Kings Rest Inn to have a drink and get the news. Shifty-eyed elf clad in leather armor and a dark cloak approached the party. “People around here tell me that you lot have been in Stonehell and survived. Well, I’m Draxel. I'm pretty stealthy and have other skills, like getting past traps, that you might want.”
Wayne looked at his mates, “He does seem to have something that we lack.” They agreed that Draxel should join their ranks. The gang then headed out directly.
The PCs arrived at the canyon outside Stonehell without incident. Wayne asked his mates to hold up and wait in the meadow just inside the Gates of Hell. The cleric first scrambled up the northern canyon side to peek into the mountain lion den that Aeline had pointed out last week. Wayne saw that the first cavern appeared unoccupied but had a branching passage that he could not see into. He decided not to press his luck and went to get Coal. The black bear followed Wayne and the party into Stonehell.
Lighting a torch, the PCs descended into the dungeon. Upon reaching the foyer, Draxel searched the walls for secret passages whilst the party debated which direction to take. Finding no secret doors and agreeing that the door taken last week had bad juju, the party headed south. Their corridor continued south and contained a short side passage to a parallel corridor. The party went this way. Grarl and Wayne arrived at the parallel corridor okay, but Coal activated a pit trap and fell 10 feet. After some coaxing, Coal was able to clamber out of the pit, which then reset itself. Draxel discovered a kick-stone on one wall that he believed would lock the trap. It worked, as the rest of the party passed over the trap safely.
The party traveled north and east, discovering a room filled with broken furniture and tally marks covering every inch of the walls. Finding nothing else of interest, the troupe left the room and went south. The passage turned to the east and terminated in a door. On the other side, the PCs found a room with an impressive quantity of wall carvings, all concerning dwarven religion or heroes. Five dwarves busily documented the architectural wonder. The leader of the dwarven expedition introduced himself as Snorri Broadshoulders. Conversation ensued and both parties briefly entertained joining forces. Schedules proved irreconcilable, however, so the PCs pressed on, mildly perturbed at the dwarves’ irrational disregard for the monetary wealth to be found.
The party proceeded along a passage west, then south, and finally east. “Always turn left,” McGill pronounced. Scouting a chamber to the east, the adventurers located a foul-smelling chamber chock-a-block with bones, feces, and various other offal. The whole affair undulated with chittering, giant rats. Grarl, Wayne, and Coal waded into the noxious midden, scattering rats and debris as they went. Wayne’s jo stick launched a rodent across the room prior to the hasty exit of her compadres.
Searching the room, the PCs saw that Wayne’s quarry wore a tag, on which “Precious” was written in orcish. Draxel claimed the tag. Moments later, the party heard inhuman voices shouting gleefully and much screeching to the north and east. Draxel identified the voices as orcs, and they were clearly at play with the scampering horde of rats.
Draxel slipped ahead of his mates to see what opportunities might emerge from the cacaphony. Pig-faced demihumans stood or ran about the room kicking and firing bows at the rats, which generally fled north toward an open passage. The elf quietly sidled up to the nearest Orc, put a hand over its mouth, and opened its throat with a dagger. Dragging the corpse out of sight, Draxel stole back to his fellows and filled them in on the nearby fracas.
The party moved en masse against the orcs. McGill’s sleep spell went off before anybody else could take action, and the six remaining orcs fell fast asleep. Draxel cuffed an Orc with manacles and joined Grarl in cutting the remnant’s throats. The PCs then woke the cuffed Orc and struck a deal:
D: All right, where are your friends, how many are you, and where’s the loot?
O: Wot do I get out of it?
D: You get to live! Plus, do you like this? *waves a bottle of dwarven brandy around*
O: *nods* Give us that and let me go, and I’ll tell all!
D: Done.
O: *complies, actually tells the truth*
Draxel hands over the brandy and unlocks the manacles. The Orc makes a gesture of thanks and starts off. Draxel quickly put a firm hand on the goblinoid’s shoulder and said, “Uh-uh. You drink that here.”
The Orc shrugged and quaffed the liquor. Lightning fast, Draxel pulled his dagger and gave the Orc a second smile below the chin. As life and liquor issued from the hapless creature’s gullet, Draxel hissed, “I just wanted to see dwarven booze pour out your neck.” Draxel’s mates stared in disbelief.
“Erm, Draxel, that was just *slightly* inappropriate…” Wayne reproached.
Draxel let the body slump to the floor and shuffled his feet.
The bodies looted, the party scouted the location indicated by the recently departed Orc. Again, Draxel sneaked ahead. Six orcs lounged about a table in dim lighting. Draxel correctly surmised that a stealthy attack would be difficult. He conferred with the gang.
“Why don’t we try to get the dwarves involved? They hate orcs, right?”
“Yeah, they totally hate their guts.”
“Don’t send the elf to parley, though.”
“I’m the smoothest of us all,” McGill said, “I’ll go.”
Nobody agreed with McGill’s self-assessment, but neither did anybody gain-say the wizard. Wayne gave McGill directions back to the dwarves and McGill grabbed a torch and took off. The rest quietly hunkered down in the darkness.
McGill made it to the dwarves in good order. Here is a rough paraphrase of their conversation:
M: Hello again! We found some orcs. Want to help us take them on?
D: Nah.
M: Seriously? Did I mention orcs? We’ll split the loot with you.
D: No, we’re busy here. They're all yours.
M: They are just a little ways that way! Do you want them to come get you?
D: Look, we’re not here for that. We’re under orders.
M: Isolationist dicks!! *Stalks off*
D: Did anyone ever tell you you talk funny?!
The party reunited. “The dwarves are isolationist dicks. They won’t help.”
Unbeknownst to our dungeon delvers, eight brigands chanced upon the party and maintained a reasonable distance. They debated taking the party on. “No way,” said one brigand. “They have a bear.” The brigands withdrew, but agreed to skulk and try to catch the adventurers in a weakened state.
The party opted for a frontal assault on the orcs. Draxel charged and yelled, “Party!” in orcish. Grarl followed, as did Wayne and Coal. McGill hung back with Günther and took aim with his slingshot. Grarl was wounded by an arrow in the fracas, Wayne beat down an Orc with his jo stick, and Coal mauled an Orc near Wayne. Although the PCs were not ripping through their foes, two fatalities and a marauding bear was sufficient to break their nerve. The orcs fled west down a passage the party had yet to investigate. The PCs set up a guard and prepared to locate the orcish leader.
We had to call time at that point, as the game shop was closing for the night.