Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
High level characters ..are ...... awesome........
I have yet to DM or play in that heady realm of power,
Hats off to Marc, Rob, Dan and Dave - they're all superb players, and make it worthwile. Campaigns CAN begin to fizzle after around 12th level in my experience, although I think this is less true of 3e than previously. Role playing becomes ever more crucial, and combat occurs infrequently.
I would recommend EVERYONE run a high level game. They're hard work, but they're also enormous fun.
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Your characters are monsterously powerful!!!
But (if I may ask) why will the updates slow down?
Yeah...sickening, isn't it. We're all munchkins at heart.
As far as slowing down postings, two reasons really:
1) It takes so damn long to compile my (scrawled) notes into a readable form, and I'm pressed for time.
2) We've started another campaign story arc (same characters) and that's my first priority at the moment.
That said, I REALLY appreciate all of the positive feedback that I've received, and I will try to update at least once per week. Eventually, it will catch up and become current with the game I'm running now.
Originally posted by Sepulchrave II That said, I REALLY appreciate all of the positive feedback that I've received, and I will try to update at least once per week. Eventually, it will catch up and become current with the game I'm running now.
Oh, I hope you will post at least once a week, if not whe should begin another daily bump routine
The Tower of Owls – the tallest of the nine spires of the Castle of Trempa – lay near the largely neglected southern wing of the Ducal Palace. The topmost floors had long ago rotted and collapsed to form a single, ruined space, which, exposed to the elements and left unattended for three generations, had attracted a number of birds which lent the tower its name.
Below the upper wreck, the tower had eight stories in somewhat more serviceable condition. The lowest five were used to store various oddments which had, over the years, been accumulated by the duchess and her forebears: old paintings, items of now-unfashionable furniture, rusting weapons, carpets, faded tapestries and broken toys amongst them. Layers of dust covered everything. It was a standing joke amongst members of the ducal household that, whenever something had outlived its usefulness, it would be "put in the tower."
The irony was not lost on the succubus Nehael – otherwise known as Lady Despina – who, sitting on her couch within the confines of a diagram inscribed by Mostin the Metagnostic, was firmly anchored to the spot. She had been closeted upon the eighth floor, in a cold, round stone room, barred from below by an iron door guarded by Eadric’s squire, Tatterbrand. Although Tatterbrand had made an attempt to make the place comfortable, and constantly reassured Despina that she was confined for her own protection as much that of others, his efforts were largely wasted on the succubus.
"I am a demoness, Tatterbrand. I am impervious to the elements."
"Yes lady, of course," said the squire, continuing to stoke a small fire in the hearth, which produced more smoke than heat.
"I could seduce you very easily, Tatterbrand," Despina said softly.
"Yes, lady," Tatterbrand replied, a look of total openness on his face, "I’m sure you could. But I’d really prefer if you didn’t. It would cause all sorts of problems, and I’m sure my master would be very upset."
Despina sighed. What strange creatures mortals were.
"What would you do, Tatterbrand, if you were in their position?"
The squire laughed. "Lady, that is why I am content to remain a squire and not become a knight. I have no interest in bearing responsibility or acquiring power. It makes life too complicated."
"Do you have no goals? No aspirations? No dreams?" The succubus asked.
"No, not really," Tatterbrand confessed. "To eat, to sleep. To act when appropriate. To do as my master bids."
"But is there nothing that you desire to possess, to have?"
"Well," Tatterbrand said, as if about to divulge a great secret, "between you and me, I’ve always wanted to keep bees."
Despina arched an eyebrow. In terms of exercising dominion, it seemed a rather modest goal.
**
On top of another tower, fifty miles distant – the "Steeple" at Eadric’s Castle of Kyrtill’s Burgh- the Paladin, together with Ortwin, Mostin and Nwm, sat and relaxed, watching the sunset.
"What happens now?" Ortwin asked. "I mean, we have the pearl, but what do we do with it?"
‘We should consider that it is still vulnerable to interference – magical or otherwise," Mostin answered. "We must be cautious."
"We lock it away, somewhere very safe," Nwm said. "We ward it with powerful runes, and bury it deep."
Mostin agreed. "Give me a day or two," he said wearily. "I need to master the ‘Permanency’ spell, and one other."
Nwm nodded.
Together, the Druid and the Alienist wrought a series of potent spells to ensure the safety and security of the pearl which contained the Balor’s essence. With the looking glass of Urm-Nahat, Mostin scried and located a suitable site: an isolated cyst in the continental bedrock, seismically stable, and sixty miles below even the deepest reaches of the Underdark.
The remote pocket was sealed by a seamless ‘Wall of Stone’ so that even the smallest fissures in the rock were blocked.
Nwm Hallowed the chamber, and tied it to a Dimensional Anchor cast by Mostin. Now, only the Alienist and the Druid could use extraplanar travel to access the cyst.
The pearl was placed in a small casket in the centre of the chamber, surrounded by a permanent Wall of Force. Magic Mouths were placed on the walls, to warn those who might, by some strange fortune, discover the hidden pocket in the rock.
Finally, upon the casket itself, in phosphorous and mercury, Mostin inscribed a Symbol of Insanity.
"I’ve bled my finances dry, and even my life-essence for him now," Mostin said to Nwm. "He owes me." He was speaking of Eadric, of course.
The Druid nodded grimly. "He will not forget it," he said.
"Nor will I," Mostin replied.
And, even in the Abyss, after long eras, the name of Rurunoth faded into memory and was finally forgotten.
Mostin decided it was payback time.
"So, technically," mused Eadric, "if I did remunerate you for every spell that you had cast since your arrival, as well as your time, components and so forth, how much would I owe you Mostin?"
Mostin produced a small notebook, and made a quick tally.
"Eighty-eight thousand two hundred gold crowns, give or take," the Alienist announced.
"Holy sh*t," exclaimed Ortwin, "I’m in the wrong business. Can you cover that, Ed?"
"No," the Paladin replied, "not unless I sell my lands and castle, and even then, - given the Burgh’s condition - I’m not convinced that would be enough. Fortunately, this is church business and they should foot some of the bill."
"SOME of the bill?" Mostin inquired sarcastically.
"They will pay for direct monetary loss, recompense you if you have invested some of your reservoir of permanent magical energy, and also make a small payment against your time and efforts. Incidental expenses – for example the clause here," Eadric pointed, "where you require one thousand eight hundred gold pieces for a ‘magical rapier, undervalued in exchange’ will not be considered. They assume a degree of philanthropy."
"Philanthropy," Mostin repeated slowly, as if hearing the word for the first time.
The revised sum – thirty six thousand five hundred gold crowns – was less to Mostin’s liking, although he agreed nonetheless. Nothing was more demeaning to a wizard than a bankruptcy which forced the touting of magical items to all and sundry.
"So should we go to Morne, to arrange for approval?" Mostin asked brightly.
"Oh, no need for that, Mostin," Eadric replied. "As an inquisitor, I am more than qualified to release the money to you. I’ll just write you a check to draw against the temple funds."
The Alienist’s mouth dropped open in an expression of disbelief. Here was such an enormous potential for financial abuse that his mind boggled.
Then again, thought Mostin, that’s probably why he’s the paladin and I’m not.
Man! I wish my DM could handle high-level characters like you can. I swear he is trying to kill us so we can start over. Then again, its not entirley his fault. I don't call the group I play with "ROLE players" per-say...I jealous to say the least. Keep the story going!
__________________ "When one of your NPC's/PC's begin to speak Latin, Tungs, or any other language he/she does not know, kill him/her to save you and your group further problems."-Tip #39 on how to live more then a week in Ravenloft.
Your story is wonderful, but I had already told you this. Today I will add ypur players are wonderful too. I would love to have such a extraordinary roleplaying experience!
"So should we go to Morne, to arrange for approval?" Mostin asked brightly.
"Oh, no need for that, Mostin," Eadric replied. "As an inquisitor, I am more than qualified to release the money to you. I’ll just write you a check to draw against the temple funds."
The Alienist’s mouth dropped open in an expression of disbelief. Here was such an enormous potential for financial abuse that his mind boggled.
Then again, thought Mostin, that’s probably why he’s the paladin and I’m not.
The Binding was fabulous. That has to be the true nightmare of every demon: Running up against those who are not even going to try and strike a bargain. Worse still, they didn't even destroy him. Not being chopped up once and for all is going to look like a real bad deal after a few hundred years.
"Do you have no goals? No aspirations? No dreams?" The succubus asked.
"No, not really," Tatterbrand confessed. "To eat, to sleep. To act when appropriate. To do as my master bids."
"But is there nothing that you desire to possess, to have?"
"Well," Tatterbrand said, as if about to divulge a great secret, "between you and me, I’ve always wanted to keep bees."
Despina arched an eyebrow. In terms of exercising dominion, it seemed a rather modest goal.
Tatterrand is, IMO, the IDEAL squire. Eadric chose WELL when he made Tatterbrand his squire.
That's a load off, though. After the last post which had Despina in it in which she started talking to Tatterbrand, I thought the poor squire was done for. Sort of like that guy who was supposed to be guarding M'Lady in "The Three Musketeers", but ended up releasing her and assassinating his own master for her! Nice to see that Tatterbrand's simplicity saved his neck. Assuming Despina does have ulterior motives. Truth be told, I'm still not sure if she's being honest or if this is all a ploy on her part.
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And, even in the Abyss, after long eras, the name of Rurunoth faded into memory and was finally forgotten.
Whoa! So Rurunoth was stuck down that hole FOREVER?!? Damn! When these people bury someone, they bury them where no one will EVER find them! By any chance, did your party have anything to do with Jimmy Hoffa's disappearance?
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"So should we go to Morne, to arrange for approval?" Mostin asked brightly.
"Oh, no need for that, Mostin," Eadric replied. "As an inquisitor, I am more than qualified to release the money to you. I’ll just write you a check to draw against the temple funds."
The Alienist’s mouth dropped open in an expression of disbelief. Here was such an enormous potential for financial abuse that his mind boggled.
Then again, thought Mostin, that’s probably why he’s the paladin and I’m not.
ROTFLMAO!!!
Thanks again for the updates, Sepulchrave. Haven't much felt like clogging up this thread with replies, but I check it on a daily basis for updates and I'm NEVER disappointed! Keep up the good work!
I've just run out of ways to express how truly amazing this story hour is. I agree that the players are also fantastic. This is just plain awesome.
Wow, what a way to resolve the Rurunoth plot line. Such a cool little statement by Sep about his name being forgotten. The humor, the roleplaying, the power, everything! Wow.
__________________ My powers are beyond your understanding.
Originally posted by Sepulchrave II And, even in the Abyss, after long eras, the name of Rurunoth faded into memory and was finally forgotten.
Um, wow! That is a truly scary line. Made my hair stand on end.
Sepulchrave, this equals the best fantasy fiction I've read. You ever considered turning this into a book?
__________________ Jarval - happy to be back at EN World.
Rather outdated PbP info: Number of PbP games I play in: 14. For full details, click here.
Number of PbP games I DM: 4. For full details, click here.
Retired/dead games I've played or run are here.
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