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Old 5th February 2008, 12:37 AM   #21 (permalink)
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Abciximab Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Session notes.

I was a little suprised (pleasantly) at the diplomatic solution. We're not a Role Playing heavy group (unless there's humor involved).

A crit on the Were-Rat by Frankie leaving it with 2 hp (Even after DR) cut that battle short. Ouch.

Boy, that last encounter was a long one. I didn't think it would give them as much trouble as it did.

Big reason. It was 5 rounds from the time they were detected to the time they looked into the chamber with the Cleric and his Undead minions. 4 whole rounds of raising dead and buffing for Team Evil. Ouch.

Always a question, do you rush in, or take your time? Some encounters go better one way, some go better the other. You never know.

Even then, I expected the cleric to Destroy the Human Skeletons, but failing his save vs Fear did not help, then he went in a totally different direction (Hide from Undead).

But they did finally triumph.
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Old 5th February 2008, 02:16 AM   #22 (permalink)
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Peteinmaine Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Chapped my hairy mule

The first potion poured into tha' damn dwarf came from my coffers! I'll have to speak with the potion maker that weak brew couldna' even git him ohn his feet! But at least it stopped his bleeding! It'd been a damn shame if we'd had to drag his body up the rope ladder (maybe we could rig up some kind of derrick with some rope and this pile of angry cow man bones....) I wonder how far down the ladder into darkness goes, and will we be able to tell by how long it took the hobgoblin body to reach the bottom? (I think that's a dwarf skill {good thing we got him walking again})
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Old 5th February 2008, 07:33 PM   #23 (permalink)
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High Cleric Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Bloody Shield of Faith Spell, it was just enough to give a higher AC to the hob cleric. But the night also shows just how chancy it is if the dice rolls are in the cellar. Now where did I put that lucky 20-sided????
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Old 5th February 2008, 07:39 PM   #24 (permalink)
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High Cleric Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
The Cause Fear spell was a real bummer too. Full effect (~4 rounds of cowering).
But, the DM was right, we're not heavy into the RP yet, I think someone actually said "You have skill points in diplomacy? Wow...." LOL.
SO the real question is, where do we go to find the Temple of the Scourge (begins praying to Solonor)...
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Old 6th February 2008, 09:14 PM   #25 (permalink)
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Peteinmaine Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
"cause fear"

N here I thought you ran off, just because the fighter looked like the was goin' down...and not the way that damn torch bearer did with the wretched orc!!
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Old 8th February 2008, 08:47 PM   #26 (permalink)
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High Cleric Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
When the dwarf went down, I wasn't sure if he was intoxicated or not. If he passed out, I wasn't sure a hangover was covered by a cure light wounds spell
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Old 14th February 2008, 04:48 AM   #27 (permalink)
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Peteinmaine Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
sum up

I think tonights adventure can be summed up by the following copyrighted comic, which I blatantly stole, but give full credit to for being funny.
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Old 16th February 2008, 10:30 PM   #28 (permalink)
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Abciximab Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Islands in the Dark

Once again, the companions found them selves gathered around a table at the Coronet and Cabbage Inn and were discussing some of the clues they had garnered from the draft they had found on the Hobgoblin cleric.

“So let’s see what we’ve learned so far,” said Celtir. “No one around here knows of any ‘Temple of Hextor’, nor have they heard of the ‘Vanguard’ or this ‘Xernon’ character. In short, we haven’t learned anything.”

“Well, we’ve made some gold from the equipment we’ve looted and Ian gave us 400 gold coins as a reward for the jewelry we returned,” said Wencis. “How’s everyone feeling? Are we ready to return to the barrow?”

“I could use a little healing, but I was thinking we might stop by the fountain and see if it will heal me again this morning,” answered Frankie. “I found it very refreshing yesterday.”

“Yes, though some of us found it more refreshing then others,” Wencis said with a smirk.

Bootsy grumbled something about “Bloody, biased, goody-two-shoes” and left it at that.

A quick check to see that they were all prepared and they were off yet again.

----------

A short time later, they found themselves back in the room where the great battle against the evil cleric and his undead minions had taken place. Frankie sampled the water from the fountain and was healed once more. Once they were all ready, they turned to the smashed door in the northern wall where the ladder descended into the darkness beyond. Climbing down, they found themselves in a great natural cavern, standing atop what appeared to be a tall column. Somewhere far below, they could hear the sound of running water. Moving carefully, they found the column to be about fifteen feet in diameter. Frankie and Wencis looked out into the darkness with their dark vision.

“There’s a rope here tied to a spike, knotted for climbing,” said Frankie who then peered over the edge. “It descends to another column about fifty feet below.”

Bootsy stepped forward to examine the rope. “It’s spiked at this end,” he said, then gave the rope a sharp tug, “Seems to be firmly attached below as well. Better play it safe though.” He then pulled out a potion and drank it down. Frankie gave him a questioning look. “Levitation. I’ll check it out and let you know.” Stepping out into open air, Bootsy willed himself to slowly descend along the length of the rope, stopping from time to time to give it a tug. The others broke out torches and sun rods, casting them about the chamber to light it up as much as possible.

Bootsy was about forty feet down the rope when a beam lanced down and struck him on his left side. He felt magical drowsiness fill his head, but was able to shrug it off. Simultaneously, another beam lanced into Frankie, and a wave of magical fear washed over him. Unable to stop himself, he ran back up the ladder. Wencis looked to where the beams had come from and saw an odd sight. A three foot long strand of sinew connecting two grotesque eyeballs flew near the eastern wall. He quickly stepped to the edge of the column and launched his hammer of soul energy at the creature, striking it in one of its eyes. The creature seemed stunned for only a moment before it launched two more beams that narrowly missed both Wencis and Bootsy. Bootsy quickly descended the last ten feet and then loaded his crossbow.

The magic of Wencis’ hammer caused it to reappear in his grasp and he quickly launched it again, barely missing the creature this time. His Soul Spark then flew out and burned the creature with its mystical energy. The eye creature flew north, farther into the chamber trying to put some distance between itself and its attackers and once again fired one of its eye beams at Wencis, missing by a hairs breadth. Bootsy started to cast a summoning spell but Wencis’ next throw was right on target, smashing into the creature yet again. This time the creature fell from the air and they heard it splash into the water far below. Bootsy finished his spell and just let the owl fly around for a short time before it returned to its own plane.

About this time Frankie was coming back down the ladder more then a little shamefaced. “Did I miss the fun?” He asked with a meek smile.

Wencis stepped back from the edge and patted Frankie’s shoulder, “Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m sure there’s plenty more to be had.”

“There’s another rope down here,” called Bootsy as the others started down the rope from the first column. “Not as steep of an incline and not too far to go it would seem.” Willing himself off the ground once again, he pulled himself across the rope and found himself on yet another column about ten feet below the second one. A quick examination led to the discovery of another spiked rope. “Another one,” he called back again as the others continued to follow him, “This one’s been cut at the far end though.” Bootsy waited for Frankie to find his footing and come up next to him, “It would seem that’s the way out of here.”

Across a short gap and about twenty feet lower, they could see a stone ledge with a ladder leading up to another passage. “Well, let’s go check it out,” said Bootsy as he walked away from the edge.

Frankie gave him a questioning look. Bootsy just smiled, got a running start and launched himself into the air activating the levitation effect as he leapt. The momentum was enough to carry him to a point where he could lower himself down to the last ledge.

“Bah! I can do better then that,” said Frankie with a smile. He backed up and also launched himself into the air as the others looked on with shocked expressions. Amazingly, even though the other ledge was ten feet away and twenty feet lower, he cleared the distance and landed with only a slight twisting of the ankle, which he barely acknowledged. “All right, so I didn’t quite stick the landing,” he joked.

With the unspoken challenge in the air, the others started to get themselves ready for the leap. Wencis stepped back and ran full tilt for the edge. Just as he was about to launch him self across the gap, his foot caught on the spike that was holding the severed rope and he tumbled over the edge. The others heard a splash and a number of expletives from below. Celtir moved to the edge and looked down at Wencis, who was standing in about a foot of water with only mild injuries. “All right then, who’s got rope?” He asked.

It didn’t take long to rig a rope leading from the column to the ledge using the spikes that were already in place and another rope from the ledge down to the water covered floor of the chamber. While the others were crossing, Frankie and Bootsy climbed down to join Wencis who was examining the area below. They found the depth of the water to be fairly uniform throughout the area. A thorough search by the three of them revealed a large rotted orb-shaped carapace. Bootsy and Frankie moved around it, examining it closely.

“Looks like an Eye Tyrant,” said Bootsy. “An Ex-eye Tyrant, that is.” Stepping closer, Bootsy reached into the tooth filled jaws and pulled loose a single tooth. “There’s gotta be some use for this,” he said as he tucked the tooth into one of his pouches. “We’re done here I think, nothing more to be found.”

----------

After they had all climbed up the ladder they found themselves in a corridor with irregular stone walls. Crude carvings and patterns of what appeared to be runes or writing decorated the rough walls.

Bootsy moved closer to the wall and after casting a spell, leaned in to examine the markings. “They are magical in nature, though what they are meant to do, I’m unsure.”

Frankie and Wencis had moved down the corridor to see where it might lead. Looking at how the corridor seemed to branch out, Wencis started to get suspicious. “I think we’ve entered a maze,” he said.

“Oh, I hate mazes,” Frankie said with a grimace.

Bootsy just smiled and started casting, a dog appeared before him. “Check it out boy!” he said enthusiastically pointing down the hall. The dog gave him a tired look and went off down the hall. Still smiling, Bootsy looked back at his companions, “Smarter then the average dog, you know,” he said while tapping his head with his index finger. “I just wish I could summon more creatures in a day.”

Within fifteen seconds they heard the dog barking and snarling. It had obviously found something. The companions readied themselves for battle and then started down the corridor. Bootsy jumped out from around the corner and called forth a fan of flames that washed over the creature before he even had time to register just what it was that stood before him. A large spider, still smoking from where the spell had singed it, skittered forward, snapping at Bootsy with its fanged mouth. Bootsy ducked beneath the attack and, seeing the poison that dripped from the creature’s fangs, was relieved to see Frankie charge in, his axe chopping into the large spider’s carapace. Ichor oozed from the wound as he pulled the axe back for another strike. Wencis and his Soul Spark struck at the creature as well, causing further injury to the spider.

Bootsy noted that the flames hadn’t caused as much damaged as he had hoped, so he stepped back and fired his crossbow at the creature. The bolt glanced off the creature’s hard exoskeleton and flew off into the darkness beyond. The spider turned its attention to Frankie, biting him in the leg. Frankie grimaced as he felt the poison trying to weaken him, but the sturdy dwarf was able to resist the initial effects. The flurry of attacks that followed finally dispatched the creature and it disappeared in a flash.

“Ah, it was summoned,” Bootsy declared. “We must be cautious.”

The companions spread out, examining the various exits from this area. Most led to dead ends, though Wencis found one that seemed to continue to the northwest. As the companions moved to join him, they all heard Frankie gasp. Celtir stepped up to check on him, but Frankie waved him off. “It’s the poison, I was unable to continue resisting its effects and it has weakened me.”

“Do you need help?” Celtir asked in a concerned tone.

Frankie looked at him and answered, “I’m a dwarf! I am weaker then usual, but I am, by no means, weak.”

Celtir just smiled, “Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment there.”

The companions moved on, exploring whatever avenues they came across until they finally reached a stone archway that lead into a small chamber. Entering, they noticed three other darkened archways, their light unable to penetrate beyond. The strange writings and runes covered the walls here as well.

Bootsy moved to the southern door and stuck his torch through the impenetrable darkness that filled the doorway. The top of the torch disappeared in the darkness, though when he pulled it back out, the torch seemed undamaged. With a shrug, he threw the torch through the doorway and stuck his head into the darkness. The darkness seemed papyrus thin and beyond was another room, lit by the torch he had tossed through. The room was the same size as the first but with only two other exits.

He turned back to his companions. “Gnomish yo-yo?” he asked.

The others nodded and got out the rope.

After the rope was firmly tied around his waist and he saw Frankie had a firm grip, Bootsy went through the doorway. Seeing no notable difference in the archways, he picked up the torch and chose to go west. As he stepped toward the western archway two creatures appeared before him in a puff of smoke. Two evil looking wolverines hissed at him.

Bootsy was fast to react. “Wolverines!” he shouted. Then, using the torch like a club, he brought it down with a “crunch” right onto the skull of the wolverine directly in front of him. Blood ran freely down the creatures face but it was far from finished. Once again it was Frankie who was first to join him, his axe biting deep into the other wolverine. Bootsy was scratched by one of the creatures before he could back away and the other sank its teeth into Frankie. Though both bled freely, neither injury was life threatening. Wencis and Celtir came in close behind. Celtir used his healing prayers to bolster his wounded companions while Wencis and his Soul Spark attacked the wolverine threatening Bootsy.

Knowing close combat was not his forte, Bootsy stepped back and fired his crossbow. The bolt pierced the creatures hide just above its shoulder.

The combat between Frankie and the wolverine before him was intense, with both of them growling and spitting, slashing and biting, their demeanors were almost identical. The others thought it best just to stay out of the way and focused their efforts on the other wolverine. This creature was obviously angered as well and seemed to soak up a lot of the damage that was dealt to it by the companions.

Frankie finally dispatched the wolverine before him and he turned his attention to the other. With a loud battle cry, he swung his axe in an arc over his head and brought it down at the base of the wolverine’s skull. The axes momentum was broken only by the stone floor.

“Are you sure you’re feelin’ all right?” Bootsy asked Frankie. “You barely chipped that stone.”

----------

Returning to their routine, they continued to explore the maze. They could tell this area had some strange effect on their decision making. Some rooms they reentered seemed different then they recalled, their thoughts muddled by some strange magical effect. Bootsy tried selecting archways that would lead him to where he thought the “middle” of this maze might be.

He was just about to head through the northern door of the latest room when two more creatures appeared before him. Big freakin’ weasels, he thought to himself. He quickly ran back through the southern door that he had entered through, dropped his torch and readied his crossbow. He wanted to see if the creatures could leave the area into which they were summoned.

As soon as he saw them coming through the archway, he fired his crossbow and yelled, “Trouble!”

One of the creatures was pierced by the bolt, but they both kept coming. One sank his teeth into Bootsy’s arm and latched on, refusing to let go. Bootsy shook his arm in an effort to break the creatures grip and shouted again, even louder, “TROUBLE!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth then Frankie was there once again, his axe slashing the weasel attached to Bootsy’s arm in two. Wencis and his Soul Spark followed close behind, quickly killing the other weasel.

Bootsy straightened his robe and checked the rope. “Right… Back at it.” With that, he went through the northern archway.

A short time later, Bootsy finally found something different. He found himself looking at a corridor similar to the ones they had left behind when they entered these strange rooms. A damp scent hung in the air and he thought he could hear running water. He tugged the rope three times and the others quickly joined him.

Once again they spread out to search the area. The corridor opened up into what appeared to be a natural cavern. Openings pierced the northern and southern walls, allowing ingress and egress from several points. A deep, dark pool filled most of the room, though a rough pebbly floor was visible to the west. Three spires of rock with flat tops jutted from the water. Bootsy moved to inspect the pebble beach as the others looked out over the water at various points to see what they could. Maybe I’ll find some drift wood shaped like a tiger on this pebble beach he thought to himself, and then he froze. “Found something!” he called.

Hearing Bootsy’s call from the beach, they all moved to see what he had found. He was moving carefully along the eastern wall. “There are runes carved into the stone in this area,” he said as he pointed to a roughly ten foot square area of the beach, “Watch where you step.” He stayed as close to the wall as possible until he finally reached the corridor on the far side. The others followed in his footsteps as closely as they could as they crossed to join him.

They continued down the hall to the north once they all had safely crossed the beach.

“I feel like we’ve missed something,” said Wencis.

“Aye, and are you thinkin’ that’s a bad thing?” Bootsy asked, “Because I’m thinking it’s for the best.”

The others could not disagree, so they continued on. Around a triangular column, they spotted a yawning pit in the western corner of this area. Carefully looking over the edge, Bootsy saw a young female in a light chain shirt lying at the bottom about thirty feet down. She had auburn hair and fine features. Her ears suggested Elf heritage but her height and build suggest Human ancestry as well. He looked closely and could see she was still breathing. Bootsy turned to his companions, “Rope me up boys, I’m goin’ in.”

“I can not, in good conscience, leave her down there alone with the gnome,” Celtir said and he quickly moved to climb down the rope as well.

By the time he arrived, Bootsy had already poured a healing draught into her mouth. She coughed and sputtered, but regained consciousness. “Easy now,” Celtir said soothingly, “We’re here to help you.” He mumbled a quick prayer and healed most of her remaining injuries. “Who are you and how did you come to be down here?” he asked.

“My name is Leera,” she answered somewhat hesitantly. “I learned of the expedition to this tomb from Teryl, an associate of mine and he let me have a place in the party. I guess I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

Celtir saw she had a lute among her equipment. “You’re a Bard?” he asked.

“Yes.” She answered quietly, apparently still unsure of her benefactors.

“Can you tell us how you came to be in this pit?” Celtir asked.

“Xernon led us around the corner to the east and we went into a wide room beyond. There, we saw two metal statues. There was also a complicated puzzle lock – one Xernon had considerable trouble unraveling. He got angry and ordered the tomb robbers to smash the platform that contained the lock and break through the doors to the north.

“Unfortunately, when we smashed the puzzle, the chests of the statues spit out small automatons that attacked and the statues mouths spewed out smoky creatures that distracted and nipped at us. Three of us, including Teryl and I, fought back while Xernon and the others smashed through the doors and escaped. When I saw that happen, I ducked back around the corner and fled… Right into this pit it would seem. I don’t remember anything from that point until now.”

“What can you tell us of Xernon?” asked Celtir.

“Xernon isn’t human or elf. I’m sure of that. I don’t know what he is, but something about him makes my skin crawl.”

“Are you going to stay down there all day?” Frankie interrupted.

“He’s right,” said Celtir with a smile, “Let’s get you out of here.”

Once they were all back at the top, they readied themselves for the combat that they felt was sure to come in the next room. Leera stayed toward the back while Wencis moved forward to look around the corner.

The smell of blood and entrails filled this large oddly shaped room. A dead Hobgoblin lay almost directly at his feet and another apparently Human body lay in a pool of blood in the middle of the room. A pile of rubble that may have once been a stone table sat just north of the body. In the north wall hung what remained of two stone doors that had obviously been smashed open. To the southeast and northwest stood two light colored metal statues, there appeared to be dried blood around a small compartment door in the chests of each.

Wencis motioned for Bootsy to bring Leera forward. “Let’s go honey-lips,” Bootsy said as he grabbed her arm and led her forward. As they came around the corner he felt her slip from his fingers as she screamed.

!” Wencis exclaimed.

She had stepped onto an undetected pit trap and had fallen thirty feet to the bottom, where she lay unconscious once again.

“We’ve got to save her!” Bootsy exclaimed. The others stared at him as this concern for others seemed a little out of character for Bootsy. “Having her around is like having unlimited summoning at our finger tips,” he explained. The others just rolled their eyes and started to go about saving her once again.

----------

“Is she still breathing?” Celtir asked, once he was down next to her.

“Huh?”

“Breathing. I assume your hand is on her chest to check her breathing.”

“Oh, Right. Yeah, she’s breathing,” Bootsy finally answered. “Sorry I was a little distracted there for some reason.”

“Please move so that I might heal her once more.”

“Right. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right over here if you need me.”

----------

Having healed her once again, everyone climbed up out of the pit and turned to face the room with the statues. Bootsy cast a quick spell to search for magic. “The amulet from the Hobgoblin is magic.” He turned his attention to the other body still in the middle of the room. “All right, do you know what your friend out there had that might be magic?” Bootsy asked Leera.

For the first time she looked into the room. “That’s Teryl,” she answered sadly. “I don’t know why he thought I would want to be part of this gang of thugs, but even he deserved better then this.” She looked away and paused for a moment to collect her self. “The only magic I knew of that he carried was a wand that fired magical missiles. I think the command word was ‘Sparkus’. I’m not sure what the amulet does, but I can identify it for you. I have a talent for appraising magical items.” She looked to where Bootsy had been standing, only to find that he had already run into the middle of the room and grabbed the wand from Teryl’s body.

Just as he scooped it up, each statue spit from its mouth a small creature that looked like animated smoke with luminous eyes and a humanoid form. The chests of both statues opened and from the southeastern one, a vaguely humanoid creature that looked to be made of stone leapt out, its eyes burning. Each of its four appendages ended with a sharp spike. From the other statue a black, metallic, animal like creature tumbled forth. It ran on four paw-like limbs and had oversized jaws filled with sharp teeth. Both constructs were covered in dry blood and looked as though they had been damaged from an earlier battle.

All four of these creatures converged on Bootsy, flanking him on all sides. The smoke creatures harassed him, making it difficult to dodge the attacks of the other two creatures. The spiked construct pierced Bootsy’s side while the animal like construct grabbed him by the throat, blood spraying from the wound. Bootsy broke free and stumbled back, retreating in the only direction he could and started to cast. One of the smoke creatures lashed at him as he did but missed completely. Finishing his spell, the magical fire burned some of the creatures attacking him. Frankie, Wencis and his Soul Spark all ran forward to help him and the three of them quickly destroyed the animal construct and one of the smoke creatures.

The spiked construct attacked Bootsy again, injuring him even more, just before Celtir came around to try and heal him. Frankie and the others turned their attention to the spiked construct as Bootsy fell back once more and fired his crossbow, piercing the creature in the head. Had the creature not been a construct, it surely would have been a critical injury. Frankie swung at the spiked construct but his axe glanced off the metal exterior of the creature. Wencis and his Soul Spark destroyed the last smoke creature.

The spiked creature turned its attention to Frankie, piercing him through his left arm. Bootsy raised the wand, “Sparkus!” He cried and two missiles flew from the wand and struck the construct. The others slashed at the creature as well, causing minor damage. Finally Bootsy activated the wand once more and as the two missile slammed into the creature, it fell apart and crashed to the floor.

Bootsy sat down hard onto the floor, blood still streaming from numerous wounds. Holding up the wand he smiled, “That was definitely worth it!”

End of Session 4
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Old 16th February 2008, 10:40 PM   #29 (permalink)
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Abciximab Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Session notes.

First - High Cleric (Celtir) was missing for this session, so you won't see much of him in combat.

Second - Apparently they weren't kidding about bringing their lucky d20's. There were a lot of 20's floating around that night. (I was only able to get 1 crit. Construct vs Bootsy).

We covered more ground then I expected, things went smoothly, including the maze, I wasn't sure how that would go. I had preprinted 10 20x20 rooms with 2, 3 or 4 exits and made some changes (the impenetrable darkness) so they were never sure what they were getting into until they actually looked. They did fairly well, only choosing the wrong exit twice. (2 of their rooms only had one other exit so that made it a little easier.) 7 rooms and three encounters (counting the spider) and they were through.

Took a picture of the model we used for the "Island" room. Forgot to take one during the process so this is when they finally made it across.
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Old 18th February 2008, 04:39 PM   #30 (permalink)
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Skeletal Remains?

Just as an aside-

Does anyone have any thoughts as to what the skeletal remains of a beholder would look like? A big skull with 10 little foramen, one big eye socket and teeth? Guess I should have put more thought into it before they found it...
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Old 19th February 2008, 01:55 PM   #31 (permalink)
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SKull of a beholder

Beholder's almost look like they have an exoskeleton, simlar to lobsters, with a cavity for the eye and teeth. If you want a real scientific thought, the stalks would require some severe strength to hold up the eyes stalks, which means either a lot of muscle or outward reinforcement (exo). If its an exo, think of finding a dead crab on the beach, brittle and holllowed out.
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Old 19th February 2008, 01:56 PM   #32 (permalink)
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But it looks like a I missed one hel of a game!
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Old 19th February 2008, 02:07 PM   #33 (permalink)
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Quote:
Originally Posted by High Cleric
If its an exo, think of finding a dead crab on the beach, brittle and holllowed out.
Hmmm, I like that description a lot more then what I came up with. Now what are the chances of ever having to describe that again...
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Old 19th February 2008, 03:51 PM   #34 (permalink)
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High Cleric Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
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Old 24th February 2008, 12:58 AM   #35 (permalink)
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Peteinmaine Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Can't wait to git out of this hole

Hopefully I got a good night sleep in this !#@$~ pit!! Cuz, I can't wait to go ahead and find out what was snorin' down that corridoor!
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Old 28th February 2008, 01:18 PM   #36 (permalink)
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Interludes.

The sound of the falling water made it hard to be sure, but he thought he heard sounds from the puzzle room. Should he wake Xernon? Better to be sure. He edged forward and looked around the corner. He saw light at the top of the stairs and heard the sounds of combat from above. So Xernon was right, they were being followed! Moving backed to where Xernon rested, he woke him with a gentle shake and held his finger to his lips to indicate the need for silence. Xernon was confused for a moment, but when he saw his loyal servant pointing toward the stairs, he knew what was going on.

“Quickly,” Xernon whispered urgently, “Wake only those that are truly loyal to our cause. It is time to move on and rid ourselves of some of this dead weight that holds us back. Being slaughtered in their sleep would serve them right for their foolishness. Jeopardizing the entire mission for a few baubles…”

----------

“I hear the water too, but I’m sure I hear snoring as well,” whispered Celtir.

“We’re in no shape for another fight,” whispered Bootsy. “They’ll surely have guards, let’s fall back and find somewhere to rest.”

“Perhaps on the islands in the water room,” suggested Wencis.

“Nay, I feel we’ve dodged a bullet in that room and we should not go back,” answered Bootsy.

“Dodged a what?” Wencis asked.

“Bullet. You know, those lead balls they throw with slings.”

“Ah, right.”

“How about we rest at the bottom of the pit?” Suggested Frankie.

The companions looked at each other and shrugged. They’d slept in worse places.

----------

Once they had settled in, Celtir turned to face Leera. Time to get some answers, he thought. “So, you have met Xernon. You were introduced to him by Teryl? Is that right? Who was this Teryl?”

“Just an associate,” she answered, “He thought we could make some quick coin with this group.”

“What more is there to this?” Celtir pressed. “Tell us your story.”

"I was part of the band of tomb robbers.” She answered in almost a whisper. The companions leaned in as she continued. “A man named Xernon leads them, but a hobgoblin priest of Hextor also has some clout. Xernon is some sort of arcanist - he's also young, intense and without mercy. To be honest, he scares me and I've tried to keep from attracting too much notice until I could escape from his band of cutthroats. He's looking for something deeper in the catacombs and only his personal magnetism has kept the tomb robbers from escaping with the treasure they've found already. He thinks that someone is bound to be pursuing them by now, though and has talked about finding a different exit from the tomb rather than the hole we dug to come in.

"The hobgoblin cleric - Krootad they call him - elected to stay behind and take care of the pursuit. You must have already run across him. He wouldn't shirk when it comes to raising the dead and the possibility of killing decent folk.”

“Who is left in the band?” asked Celtir.

"I think the remaining tomb robbers are nothing more then servants and hirelings, though most seem loyal to Xernon. Minus the ones who fell in the next room, he still has a few Varags, two more Hobgoblin warriors, a Halfling male I think is a sorcerer and a nasty Goblin female. We left several goblinoids and undead behind us, as well as some of Xernon's twisted pets. Many members of our band have died in the run through this place.”

Her expression grew thoughtful as she continued, "Xernon is definitely working for someone, though. I remember Xernon and Krootad quarreling about how to carry out our superior’s wishes, leading me to think that Xernon is either already a member of an organization or about to join one. He certainly knows a lot about the tomb complex, though he appears unsure of what dangers he might face as he explores. It's as if his map - yes, he has one - has no notes or specific details about the area.”

“You describe Xernon as neither elf nor human. Can you tell us any more of him?” asked Celtir.

An involuntary shiver ran through her as she answered, “He was bald, with bright yellow eyes. He had reptilian scales on his forehead. I don't know what he was”.

“Any indication of where he might be from or going to?”

“I don't know where he came from, and other then escaping from this tomb once he found whatever he was looking for, I don't know where he was going after.”

“So now what is the plan?” asked Bootsy.

She looked confused for a moment before answering, “His? I don't know. Mine? I just want to get out of this place.”
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Old 1st March 2008, 05:02 PM   #37 (permalink)
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Varags in the Mist

“Well, that was uncomfortable, but at least it was uneventful,” Celtir said, while stretching out his stiffened limbs.

The night in the pit had passed without any trouble, each member had taken watch in turn and morning had arrived all too early for some of the tired adventurers.

“Yeah, sleeping on stone can’t be good for you,” commented Wencis.

“Speak for yourself,” said Frankie with a grin. “It’s really the only way to get a proper nights rest, with the solid earth at your back.” Celtir winced as Frankie thumped him on the back.

Bootsy looked at Wencis and Celtir, “How is it that you two got to sleep on either side of the only female in the group.”

“To protect her from the things that might go ‘bump’ in the night,” Celtir responded, with a pointed look in the gnome’s direction.

Climbing out of the pit, the companions made ready to see what challenges awaited them in the next room.
----------

Celtir was first to climb onto the stones that had been piled four feet high at the bottom of the stairs. Bootsy quickly clambered up next to him. Beyond was a wide room full of mist and moisture. Directly ahead were three sarcophagi, their lids removed to provide the material to block the doorway. To the west was a wide crack in the floor, near which stood three weathered statues of human warriors leaning on longswords and bearing shields. Straw had been spread on the floor just beyond the fissure. The sound of falling water came from the west.

Through the mist to the west they could make out three of the hairy, horned Varags hastening to ready their bows.

Celtir jumped down and quickly moved into the room as Bootsy fired his crossbow, striking one of the Varags in the arm. Frankie and Wencis quickly followed their companions over the low wall and into the room.

A flurry of arrows was the response from the far side of the room. None of them found their marks and the shafts snapped against the stone statues and the wall.

As Celtir ran to the far side, he felt sharp objects scattered within the straw piercing the souls of his boots but was able to safely make it through without injury. His arrow struck one of the Varags in the leg. Frankie ran up to the closest and slashed the creature with his axe, sorely wounding it. Wencis’ hammer glanced off the creature’s armor but his Soul Spark was able to drop the creature with a blast of energy.

Celtir mumbled a quick prayer and a morning star appeared and struck at the Varag that was in the back of the room. Bootsy climbed up into the nearest sarcophagus and fired his crossbow. The bolt struck one of the creatures and Wencis was there to finish it with his mystical war hammer.

The only remaining creature moved quickly. It ran up and slashed Frankie and then moved back near the stream of water that ran from the falls and washed over the stairs to the north. Celtir’s spiritual morning star followed the Varag closely and struck when it could.

Frankie and Wencis closed the distance quickly and each struck their target, though the creature’s skills in battle ensured the injuries were only minor. Celtir fired away with his bow whenever he saw an opening.

Finding itself cornered and apparently unwilling to descend the slippery stairs, the creature grabbed a potion bottle from its belt. Wencis tried to take advantage of this distracting action and struck at the creature while Frankie tried to strike the bottle from its hand, but both attacks failed. The Varag quickly drank the contents and took up his blade with newfound strength. Frankie and Wencis both struck again, this time each struck the creature on opposite sides of its body. The creature’s blade slashed Frankie across the torso. Frankie then winced as he saw a familiar looking vial fly past his shoulder and strike the Varag a glancing blow, splashing acid over Frankie and Wencis as well. The two of them gritted their teeth and vented their anger on the creature before them.

Sorely wounded, the creature took out another potion but this time Frankie was able to smash the vial out of the creature’s hand. The creature’s anger turned to surprise as two mystical bolts of energy flew between Wencis and Frankie, striking the Varag in the head. The creature finally dropped to the ground.

Wencis turned to see Bootsy standing behind them, putting away his new wand. “Now why didn’t you go with the wand before, instead of dousing us all with acid?”

Bootsy looked incredulous. “It only had six charges to start with,” he stated, as if that would explain everything. The others just shook their heads and turned to investigate the room.

Into the Web

Gathering their loot and placing much of it into Bootsy’s new Haversack that he had found near the cots, they turned to the task of descending the water covered stairs. Beyond was a slick ledge, the waterfall on one side of it, a deep pit on the other. Someone had driven spikes into the ledge along the eastern edge and a rope had been threaded through the loops in their tops forming a banister of sorts. After much discussion they decided they needed an additional safety rope, just to be sure. Working together they were able to drag two of the statues to the top of the stairs to act as an anchor. They tied one end of a rope to the statues and the other around Celtir.

Moving cautiously down the stairs the words “bull rush” kept passing through Celtir's mind for some reason. As he reached the bottom he heard a voice from the waterfall, “So many visitors this day.” A ruggedly handsome man stepped out of the falls, clad in a shirt of shimmering mail. His silvery hair wasn’t wet, but it cascaded over his shoulders in ringlets. A trim beard rounded out his face, accented by a silver chain around his neck shaped like an acorn. Silvered axes hung from his belt and his intense blue eyes focused on Celtir, his jaw set. “Tell me, why came you here?”

Celtir found it challenging to be diplomatic while keeping his balance on a slippery ledge next to a fifty foot pit, but he did his best. “We pursue a band of evil tomb raiders that have infiltrated this place and seek to steal its treasures.”

The man seemed to consider for a moment before answering, “Listen, the ones of whom you speak have preceded you into the tomb, though they will almost certainly be destroyed. The Betrayer is compelled to destroy them, if the foul creature in the next room does not.”

“Who is this betrayer you speak of?” Celtir asked.

“”Why, the one who betrayed the king whose tomb this is,” the man replied, as if this should be common knowledge.

“What can you tell me of the creature in the next room?”

At this, the man's countenance grew angry, “A large spider has made its home in the next room. It comes and goes as it pleases, I am unable to stop it. It is an abomination and must be destroyed. If you pledge to do this, I shall help you all safely past these falls.”

Celtir, a true representative of the tenets of Solonor, the Elven god of war, did not even hesitate in his reply, “It will be done.”

One by one, the fey water guardian, named Sigur, helped each of the companions across. Leera was last to go and as they neared the middle of the water covered ledge, she leaned in, saying something to him they could not hear. The companions could see him smile, nod and then quickly whisk Leera up to what they could only presume was the top of the waterfall. Only Bootsy expressed any disappointment, “Ah well, no more free identification of magic items.”

Sigur came over as they made ready to open the door, “I do know this. Weapons touched by virtue can harm the spider most easily.”

“Good to know,” said Bootsy who then turned to his companions. “Anyone here have an aligned weapon or the ability to create one?”

Wencis was the only one to raise his hand.

“Aye, that’s about what I thought. Well, let’s get this over with.”

“Wait a few moments more, I wish to give us all the blessing of Solonor and enchant my weapon,” Celtir said. He then murmured a couple of quick prayers before indicating to Frankie to open the door.

Dust choked the air in this large, open room. Webs covered the walls, but they could see the gleam of their glasslike surfaces in a few clear patches. The webs also blanketed the walls to the south and covered a large statue in the center of the room. It was hard to make out the features but it appeared to be a man sitting on a throne. There was a high balcony to the south. Bootsy stepped to the front, “Right, let’s see if I can clean this place up a little.”

Walking a short distance into the room, he raised his hands to burn away the webs. Just as the spell went off, he noticed movement behind the statue as something shuffled toward him. As he shouted a warning to the others, a swarm of tiny spider boiled forth from the burning webs and swarmed over him. He felt many tiny bites from the creatures but was able to keep his head. “Get the other creature, I’ve got these bastards!” he shouted to his companions.

Frankie rushed into the room and around the statue, where he saw a horrible sight. It was a human shaped creature wrapped in webs, its skin rippling as if many tiny creatures squirmed inside of it. Undeterred, Frankie ran up to it and promptly cut it in half. As it dropped, its body seemed to lose its shape and it released another mass of swarming red spiders.

Wencis and his Soul Spark stepped into the room. He threw his hammer at the first swarm, smashing a number of spiders, while Celtir threw a vial of holy water at the swarm to little or no effect.

Bootsy took a step back to get out of the swarm, then cast forth a fan of flames once again, destroying the first swarm. Wencis worked his way along the room to the south near the balcony, throwing his hammer at the second swarm. Frankie was unable to strike effectively with his axe as the swarm flowed over him. He felt the tiny bites and though he was able to resist the sickening effects of having a swarm of spiders crawl all over him, he felt the poison of the creatures tear at his very soul. As he ran back to stand next to Wencis, he felt cold, as if the darkness of the grave had enveloped his heart, the very spark of his life, within its grasp.

Celtir worked his way over to confront the swarm, sending forth a beam of energy to burn at the creatures. The spiders swarmed over him, nauseating him as they climbed quickly up his body and over his face, trying to crawl into his mouth and nose. Bootsy, seeing the sputtering flames burning away the webs at Celtir's feet, quickly thought of a solution. In retrospect it may not have been the best solution, but the demands of the battlefield sometimes call for desperate measures.

The flask smashed into Celtir's back, soaking him and the spiders with oil, which was quickly ignited by the flames at his feet. Still retching, Celtir backed away from the swarm, looking for a place to stop, drop and roll... and perhaps throw up a little more.

The swarm moved across the room, covering Frankie once again, though his Dwarven fortitude won out against the effects of the spiders this time. Celtir’s hammer blow and the dieing flames of the remaining oil were enough to disperse the last of the swarm.

Celtir, figuratively and literally still smoldering and smoking, gave Bootsy a tired look as he tried to spit the taste of bile from his mouth, “I don’t think I can bring myself to thank you for that one.”

The companions collected themselves and proceeded to search the downstairs area, though Frankie and Wencis contributed by watching the stairs up to the balcony. All the flames had burned away much of the webs and Bootsy was able to get a good look at the statue. While there was a passing resemblance to the king’s statue on the hill, this mans hands and feet were chained to the throne. Unsure of what this meant, he decided to climb up onto the statues lap. Celtir searched through four sarcophagi in the northeast corner but found them all empty.

“Well, that spider has to be here somewhere, let’s see if we can flush him out,” Bootsy said with a grin as he pulled out more oil and began lobbing it up onto the balcony. For the fourth vial, he tore a piece of cloth from his bandoleer and stuffed it into the top of the flask as a wick. “Everyone ready?” he asked.

Frankie, noting that the cold feeling had finally left him, nodded grimly and raised his axe. The others indicated their readiness as well as Bootsy checked to see that his crossbow was loaded. Motioning the torch bearer over, he then lit the wick and threw the flask.

The flames spread quickly and almost immediately a large spider appeared at the top of the stairs, pieces of mottled gray chitin flaking off as it moved. The spider didn’t seem to notice as Bootsy’s bolt struck it a glancing blow. Wencis quickly ran up the stairs, striking with his hammer. Bolts and arrows from the others flew up toward the spider, though most seemed ineffective. The spider bit Wencis on the shoulder, causing the same cold feeling that Frankie had experienced earlier. Wencis and his Soul Spark both struck again as the others continued to fire arrows at the large beast. The spider’s fangs tore into Wencis once more and knowing he was close to death, he quickly decided now was the time to retreat. Carefully backing away, he moved as far away from the terrible spider as he could.

As the spider tried to pursue Wencis, Frankie stepped in to block its advance. He was happier now that he was finally able to strike at it with his axe, a weapon he felt infinitely more comfortable with then the short bow he had been using. Hacking with all his strength, he saw his strikes didn’t cleave as deeply as he thought they should. The tough spider struck back, its fangs piercing Frankie’s armor, but the stout dwarf resisted the effects of the poison.

Wencis worked his way over toward Celtir, who was busy firing arrow after arrow at the large creature. Bootsy, finally growing weary of seeing his bolts glance off the spider’s hard chitin, took out his wand. The bolts of energy tore into the spider from behind.

Frankie's incredible fortitude allowed him to hold the line while the others attacked with abandon from a distance. After what seemed like an eternity, the combination of axe, Magic Missiles and arrows finally destroyed the vile creature.

After the combat had finally ended, Wencis finally was able to get Celtir’s attention. “I could use whatever healing you could spare, my friend.”

“Unfortunately, I have used up my most powerful prayers, but I do have these scrolls I purchased in town,” Celtir answered. Digging out the scrolls, Celtir read from one of them and placed his hand on Wencis.

“Aaahhhrg!” The pain caught Wencis completely off guard as the magic of the healing prayer seemed to burn his flesh. He was so shocked by the pain, he almost struck Celtir in retaliation, until he saw the surprised expression on Celtir’s face as well and knew it was not his doing. “The poison! The cold feeling! Now I see. Hopefully it will wear off as it did for Frankie and you can try to heal me once more.”

While they waited, Bootsy explored the balcony, finding the corpse of a Hobgoblin, some weapons and a skull that was still wearing some type of phylactery. Placing the loot into a pile he cast Detect Magic. A potion he could not identify and the phylactery were the only things that were magical. Putting the rest into his haversack, he debated what to do with the phylactery. “Wencis, could you check to see if this is evil?” He asked, holding it up. Wencis concentrated for a moment then shook his head. Bootsy shrugged then put it on. Nothing happened. He tried running, jumping, even thinking to see if he felt smarter or wiser. “Hey Frankie, do I look more commanding or physically attractive to you? You know, like I have a greater presence?”

Frankie just laughed and shook his head, “Crazy Gnome, you’ve been without a woman far too long.”

Shaking his head in frustration Bootsy called the others together to examine the only exit, a door on the balcony that had been almost covered in webs before the oil had burned them away. Wencis, the cold feeling finally having left him, was successfully healed by Celtir while Frankie opened the door.

As they entered the square room beyond, the room lit up. They were able to discern a winding stair to the southeast before the walls seemed to paint themselves with rich images. The magic painting depicted a spring day on a high, green hill, making it seem as if the sun reached this room as well as the green slope. They could almost smell the apple blossoms and awakening flowers. People in fine clothes stood around the hill and it was as if they were among them. Central in the scene was a tall, raven-haired man dressed in shining plate armor, kneeling before a blond man and a red-haired woman, each wearing golden crowns. The image faded and the light diminished but did not go out.

Bootsy quickly put on the phylactery and looked around the room, but was disappointed when nothing more happened. He took it off.

As the companions moved down the stairs, Bootsy was disappointed once more by the absence of a railing and seemed reluctant to walk down the stairs in a normal fashion.

Reaching the bottom, they saw gleaming doors to the northeast and southwest engraved with fiery grinning skulls. Celtir felt they had some religious significance, though he could not place them. In the southeast corner another stair descended. As they took all this in, the walls seemed to paint themselves with images once again. They saw the same hill as they had in the previous vision, but it was now covered in brown grass and flames were leaping into the sky off in the distance. The dark haired man in shining armor wielded two curved swords and battled howling goblinoids and baying wolves. Beside him stood the blond king armed with a black longsword. Light sparkled on the blade and the kings crowned helm. The red haired woman held her ground behind and between the two, her staff held aloft as lightning struck her foes. The companion’s hair stood on end and their skin tingled as if electricity were really in the air. Then, the image faded and they saw the room as it had been.

They moved to the door in the northeast and Frankie opened it. Four sarcophagi stood within, two along the south wall and two to the east. The lids showed graven images of trapped people on them, one different person for each lid. It seemed as if each lid was a prison. The imprisoned people were depicted as if they were crying out, their desperate eyes set with rubies. To the north, a huge mirror hung on the wall.

“Rubies, eh,” said Bootsy. “Too bad. We ain’t in’ with no mirror.”

They closed the door and moved back to the door in the southwest. Within, a musty putrescence pervaded the air. Two statues of warriors here looked stern, even angry as they brandished their spears southward. There were four standing sarcophagi along the southern wall, two sealed ones flanking two others that had been smashed open, their lids lying broken on the ground before them. Each remaining lid had the graven image of a person on it. Again each looked as though they were imprisoned, each face screaming in pain, wide eyes set with rubies.

They heard the sound of steel clearing its sheath and a skeletal figure in full plate stepped out of the eastern coffin with a hiss. Its eyes burned under its helm, “Blood and vengeance,” it whispered.

Then a bloated rotting figure raised its arms and shambled forward from the other open coffin. A gurgling moan escaped from its flabby lips.

Bootsy slammed the door shut.

Celtir opened it once more and stepped inside, invoking the power of his deity. The creature in full plate hissed and moved to the back of the chamber averting his eyes from the radiant power of Solonor. The bloated creature shuffled his way up the stairs and struck Celtir across the chest. Wencis stepped in next to him and his Soul Spark flew above as they both struck the disgusting creature with solid blows and burning bolts. Bootsy used even more energy from the wand, further wounding the creature. Frankie fired into the room with his bow, but was unable to find his mark. The hideous creature struck back at Wencis, but his thick armor deflected both of the creature’s strong blows. Celtir struck the creature with his morning star and once more, both Wencis and his Soul Spark landed crushing blows, driving the creature to the ground.

Almost as one, Celtir and Wencis charged the other creature that was cowering in the back of the room. They pounded on it with all their strength, though the creature seemed resistant to their blows. The creature lashed back with its fist, the effects of the turning broken by Celtir’s charge. Frankie also charged in, his axe slashing the creature. Though the creature proved to be tough, soaking up a great amount of damage, it did not stand long against their determined assault.

Bootsy had started prying the rubies out of the sarcophagi before the combat had even ended. When he had all eight he turned to his tired companions. “Right. Let’s go have a chat with the water boy again.”

End of Session 5.
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Last edited by Abciximab; 4th April 2008 at 02:23 PM..
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Old 1st March 2008, 05:16 PM   #38 (permalink)
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Abciximab Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
First, it was pointed out by my players that I had confused Celtir and Wencis at a few points in the Session 4 post. Sorry for any confusion, it should be fixed now.

Session Notes.

I was a little disappointed at the small space the Varags had to work with. It made hit and run tactics almost impossible.

For a moment we thought Celtir had blown the diplomacy check with Sigur, but thanks to actually having Ranks in that skill he was able to pull it off.

We were all disappointed that Wencis was not killed by Celtir's healing.
Ok, not really, but we did all have a good laugh over it.

Mirrors. What more can I say.

Wencis and his soul spark dropped the plague walker before it could detonate. Darn.
The Huecuva was pretty ineffective in all respects and it’s turn resistance was not enough to resist the power of Solonor.
.
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Old 1st March 2008, 06:43 PM   #39 (permalink)
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Man, its a good thing I didn't give a cure mod wounds spell. That would have been, well...uncomfortable, for Wencis. Luckily, he takes it in stride.
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Old 4th March 2008, 12:21 AM   #40 (permalink)
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mundinironhand Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
It would have been a much more entertaining story had i actually been slain by the party cleric. oh, well guess i get to keep my character a little longer
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