CERAMIC DM March 2012
phoamslinger
Explorer
moderately painful. this one's tough.
maxfieldjadenfox
First Post
Ooooh, let the smack talk begin!
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
To be fair, if anyone knows about low-down dirty cracks it's Rodrigo.
Also, remind me to edit the thread a bit before I send my mom here to read my story.
phoamslinger
Explorer
ok, the story's written. unlike the first time, I'm just going to sit on it and do a bit of editiing and try to firm up a couple of the pictures. I'll probably post it tomorrow.
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Whatever happens, I'm in awe of how quickly you turn thought to story.
UselessTriviaMan, phoamslinger: good luck!
phoamslinger
Explorer
Ceramic DM, Round II, Match I: phoamslinger's entry
enjoy!
word count: approximately 3210
[sblock]The Favor
The gray skies of a wintery morning hung across the city. Avoiding the townsfolk as they scurried towards shelter, Thuvis and Asperon moved with care through the litter and chaos of the street while high overhead a cow arced across the sky, bellowing madly in fear before landing violently (and explosively) on top of a nearby cloth vendor’s kiosk. Raising a hand to wipe a bit of bovine gore off his armor, Thuvis wondered if the reason for the cattle bombardment was that all of the neighboring rocks and combustibles had already been fired against the city in the previous weeks …doubtful. There were always rocks around and the most likely possibility was just that the catapult crews of the Denaxan Empire were bored with the more common missiles and were engaging in a bit of “let’s see what we can put over the city walls next”. At least they weren’t using peasants from the surrounding farms anymore. And besides, splashing renowned heroes such as himself and Asperon with cow entrails was just the sort of thing that the God of Twisted Plot Devices enjoyed. Asperon gazed down at the blood splashed across his winter furs, then turned to his partner of many campaigns and began speaking in a strange lingo.
“I still don’t see why we don’t just hop the wall and go on a killing spree. I know it’s a big army, but it’s probably ninety percent minions with only one hit point each. We would go through hundreds of them before we even got hurt ourselves and besides, according to our class features, we both fight better when we’re bloodied.”
At these words, a small green ball of light appeared beside Asperon’s head. A small spark of energy leaped out and zapped his ear.
METAGAMING INFRACTION. THREE HIT POINT PENALTY FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS GAME TIME. C’MON GUYS, FOLLOW THE BOXED TEXT.
Thuvis glanced over at his partner. “I still want to know why it is that the God of Twisted Plot Devices only does that to us. What is it that makes us special and no one else? I’d also like to know what some of the words it uses mean. “Game Time” suggests a competition of some sort, but who do we compete against?”
The barbarian looked confused as he rubbed the side of his head “Were my words possessed again? All I know is that now my ear hurts. Let’s get on to the temple and see what Joranz wants.”
The two adventurers had been together from the start of their careers. Occasionally they had been joined by others whose talents complemented their own, but for obscure sounding reasons like “work”, “school”, and inexplicably “the ball and chain”, those others had gradually left the team, never to be heard from again. Now it was just Thuvis and Asperon, warlord and barbarian, heroes of the realm who were (frequently it seemed) called upon to help those less capable.
From the very beginning, Thuvis and Asperon had been haunted, nay cursed, by the presence of the small green ball of light. It had first appeared when they were but fledgling heroes. They had answered a call to arms, tossing back a small goblin encroachment on some farmsteads and somewhere during that first adventure, the small green light had adopted them. Over the subsequent months, they had determined that it was not a demon or a devil. It was not aligned in any sense, nor was it magical. Remove Curse had no effect on it, nor did any other type of arcane or divine ritual. It appeared to be invisible and undetectable to almost everyone they met. And while it followed only them, if anyone joined their band, they too would be occasionally targeted by the thing’s effects until that individual left once more. Finally, Thuvis and Asperon had traveled to the capitol to consult with the master sage, Barnabus Barnaby. It was Barnabus who had told them of an obscure deity outside the rest of the pantheon of gods, the God of Twisted Plot Devices or Deificus Maliciositi (or Dei Ehm in the Elder Tongue). Omnipotent, and almost omniscient, it was written that the god would follow them until the day they retired, then it would move on to hover over and torment some other poor souls. But in all of his researching, Barnabus had found no other means of banishing the god. The two adventurers had no intention of dissolving their partnership for a life of ease and retirement, so the damned thing was something they’d gradually learned to tolerate and mostly ignore. The only side effect was an occasional tendency on their parts to speaking gibberish, which in turn would be punished by a spark from the green ball of light.
The unfairness of it all was self evident.
Ever since the arrival of the armies of the Denaxan Empire outside the city walls, the two adventurers had been speaking with city officials and researching private libraries, looking for some way that they could end the war and bring peace to the land again. It had seemed a fruitless task until the small green ball had appeared above them last night, just before an emissary from Joranz Jor had approached them with a possible mission.
Thuvis and Asperon moved up the Avenue of Temples towards Summerhaem, the grand temple of Pelor in the city. They went up the steps and through the doors and into the sunny warmth of the temple’s interior. Several townsfolk were huddled in groups near the entrance, being fed bread and wine by the temple acolytes. Many had lost their homes during the continuous catapult assault and the temples of the city were the first to open their doors to the needy and oppressed.
They moved on to the other end of the main temple chamber and each dropped a few gold coins into the offering box. Above them, the miracle of the Everburning Candles of Pelor blazed away, radiating heat and light, banishing the darkness and constantly demonstrating the power of the God to all who passed by. It was said that even in the heaviest of winter snows, the area surrounding the grand temple remained clear of ice and snow, warmed by the God’s power. But Thuvis and Asperon had yet to see this for themselves. What was obvious was the chill of winter air outside had no place here. Asperon cursed under his breath as beads of sweat appeared on his brow and he began hurriedly removing his heavy fur outer garments. Thuvis threw back his winter cloak and turned as Joranz Jor, solar divine of the Sun God’s temple approached them.
Sitting comfortably in Joranz’s office and enjoying a cup of sacramental wine, the temple divine explained.
“Many years ago, during my own adventuring days, I met a creature from the elemental plane of Earth. The creature’s name was Malichon and my adventuring group did a service for it with the promise that it would owe us a favor someday in return. Many years have passed since then, but we never did claim the service we were promised. At one point we went to speak with Malichon only to find that it had moved on to some other locale, and we never had the time to track it down. In time we went on to other things and the whole thing was forgotten.
“During the past few weeks, as I have prayed for guidance beneath the Miracle of Pelor, I have been given a vision of Malichon sitting, gazing towards a distant horizon. Using auguries, portents and divinations from blessed Pelor, I have since determined that Malichon is the key to breaking the siege of our beleaguered city. It seems time now to call upon the favor due. I would go myself, but my duties as the head divine keep me here. So I am offering you this mission and the chance to save the city and win glory, honor and riches. What do you say?”
***
The twinkling glow of the teleport circle faded around them and Thuvis and Asperon looked around at the scenery.
“We’re a long way from home.” remarked Asperon as he began removing and packing his winter furs away.
“Yes, judging by the tree cacti, it looks like the Fulani Desert, on the southern continent. It’s mid-summer down here and you’ll probably be more comfortable with just your leathers.”
“Sand and thorns. I hate deserts,” growled the barbarian.
“Well,” replied his companion, “Joranz did mention that Malichon preferred desolate locations, far from the civilized lands. This desert was where they encountered him years ago. It’s unlikely that he’s still around, but hopefully we can find out where he headed off to next. At least Joranz gave us magical transportation so we didn’t have to walk.”
As Asperon finished his wardrobe adjustments, Thuvis coiled the enchanted circle of rope Joranz Jor had given them and stored it in his pack. Asperon scouted around until he found the trail that Joranz had mentioned. Then the two of them headed north through the cactus groves, leading towards a saddle between two hills.
After several days of fighting off manticores, great sand worms, swarms of blood flies and Fulani nomads, the two had had just about all of the exciting desert adventure they could stand. Killing monsters from faraway lands was sort of fun but it didn’t seem to be furthering their quest very much. Finally, under the watching glow of the green ball of light, they had met a Fulani wise woman in a village of tents. Wracking their brains to find different ways of eliciting the knowledge they needed from her, the woman had sat patiently listening to one argument after another, faintly smiling under the green glow of the god. Finally as if some sufficiency of reasons had been given to her, she had told them that yes, Malichon had once sat upon a nearby hill watching the skies turn, but had moved on several years past when she was just a young woman. She had been a student of the creature, learning wisdom through patience and it had spoken a single word before departing, “Arctinis”. The adventurers thanked her and then used the teleport rope to travel back to the capitol.
The following morning, the two prepared to leave for their next destination. The winter shedding warmth from the Candles of Pelor radiated down upon them once more as Joranz Jor continued to brief them.
“Arctinis is a province in northern Galandria.” said Joranz. “Watch out for the wind off the Frozen Seas. It’s quite cold.”
“What? Wait! I need my furs from my-“ …and the twinkling glow of the teleport cut off the rest of Asperon’s protests.
A pack of polar bears, a remorhaz, a cryohydra and a small white dragon later, Thuvis and Asperon did not seem to be making much headway. It seemed as if the bleak frozen tundra of the Arctinis coastline was home to a variety of creatures, but all of them had been more interested in eating the two adventurers, rather than talking with them or giving them some clue as to the whereabouts of Malichon. The only exception to this had been a baby harp seal that they had startled with their sudden appearance when they had first arrived. The seal had just stared at them with this comical look of astonishment on its face. Asperon had almost clubbed the helpless creature to death, but Thuvis had cryptically said “it’s not worth any XP”, prompting a green spark to the ear. The two had ignored the seal thereafter.
Now on their third night in Arctinis, they were camped around a fire debating if one of their former companions, a halfling of Littlehill, had been right about the correct method of roasting remorhaz steaks over a fire. Thuvis continued asserting that the meat was too gamey, while Asperon kept saying that the barbarian tribes of the plains that he’d come from ate all sorts of things you wouldn’t find served at an inn of the capitol, and that remorhaz was actually pretty good stuff in comparison to some of the things he’d been forced to eat as a boy. They both agreed that it was a damned shame the dragon had crashed into the sea and been pulled under by something in the water. Dragon steaks were always the best no matter how they were prepared.
Thuvis glanced up at the God of Twisted Plot Devices.
“You know it’s been hovering up there for most of the day now.”
“I know,” agreed Asperon. “Normally it pops in for a bit and then leaves again. We’re probably not making progress as fast as it would like.” He turned to the small glowing ball. “Maybe a hint or something? Otherwise we’re just going to keep killing monsters and debating culinary techniques.” But the green light just winked out, while out beyond the circle of firelight, the harping of the seals could be heard from the nearby shoreline.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes while wheels turned, synapses fired, and a bit of thinking went on outside of regularly shaped boxes. At least that’s what happened to Thuvis. Asperon was busy gazing up at the starscape of the northern skies and fondly remembering a tavern back at the capitol and some of the things he’d tasted in the past. Thuvis turned and began digging stuff out from the bottom of his adventurer’s field pack, eventually pulling out a small flask.
“What’s that for?” asked Asperon.
“Follow me.” replied Thuvis.
Making his way back to where they had first appeared, Thuvis walked over to the harp seal and squatted down in front of it. Pulling the stopper, he drank down the liquid inside and then looked at the seal.
“You wouldn’t happen to know of a being called Malichon, would you?”
Asteron watched as the seal blinked a few times, gazed soulfully up at Thuvis and then started barking happily. Asteron moved away and listened for a while to the roar of the waves as they lashed the beaches. “Not a twisted plot device, just one bent the Nine Hells out of all recognition. ” he muttered to himself while behind him, a faint green glow lit the warlord and the barking seal.
“Malichon? Malichon? He’s one of my best friends! He would sit and I would tell him stories, and he would sit and I would tell him more stories and he would sit and I would tell him even more stories! Not even the seagulls sit around for even more stories after that, but Malichon would sit all day and listen and listen and listen!” With the patience that only a warlord skilled at commanding armies, herding cats and driving reticent barbarians to his will could muster, Thuvis gradually waded through the exuberance of the seal and then walked over to Asperon.
“I know where Malichon went from here.”
“Excellent. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning should be fine.”
“Good. I have something to take care of in the mean time…”
The following morning, Thuvis laid out the teleport rope and set about laying out the ritual for their destination. Glancing at Asperon with a smile on his face, he activated the device. As the warm wet air of the southern tropics washed across them, Asperon tore his new seal fur hat off his head and threw it to the ground while Thuvis started laughing.
“It’s not funny. After freezing for three days, I spent five hours curing the hide and crafting that hat. How was I supposed to know we’d be back in the south again?”
“You should have left the seal alone. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.
Thuvis continued, “The seal told me that Malichon said one word before he left, “Trellis”. I’m assuming that he was referring to the Trellis daisies that bloom day and night, and are only found only on a few islands in the Sharkshead Archipelago. Let’s take a look around and see if we can find this Malichon creature.”
Asperon responded, “Desert, tundra, tropics. It’ll be the Wastelands next, mark my words. I need a beer.”
The island was not all that big and it didn’t take the two long to quarter the island and search each part. But other than a flock of gargoyles, dispatched with the duo’s customary style, and which Thuvis insisted were referred to as a “notre” of gargoyles, there was no sign of anything larger than a ground shrew anywhere on the island. Asperon couldn’t understand what gargoyles were doing on a tropic isle, but Thuvis was encouraged because he thought they were elemental Earth creatures, which indicated Malichon might be nearby. Finally they set up camp near a large patch of trellis daisies, finished off the last of the dried remorhaz they had in their packs, and Thuvis went to sleep while Asperon stood watch.
A short while later, the barbarian shook the warlord awake.
“You gotta see this. There’s a rock that keeps mumbling at me.”
Asperon led Thuvis to the center of the field of flowers. There a large boulder could be seen peeking up amongst the blooms, but when Thuvis activated the radiant aura of his armor, the rockface shifted, becoming a humanoid head that seemed carved from granite. The eyes on the head slowly opened and in a gravelly voice it asked, “WHY?”
Thuvis addressed the head, “Are you Malichon? The Galeb Duhr Rockcaller that was once aided by Joranz Jor and his party of the Bright Swords? High Priest Jor calls upon you now to repay the favor owed to him and help us to relieve the siege of the Denaxan Empire upon our city. By the light of Pelor’s Everburning Candles, the Sun God has shown that you can aid us. What is your reply?”
As the two adventurers braced for possible combat, the stone creature sat there for a few moments, then it spoke.
“Ragoshet.”
Then the head shifted once more, becoming nothing more than a boulder surrounded by flowers.
“What the hell is a Ragoshet?" asked Thuvis.
Asperon sighed, “Ragoshet is the name of a barbarian hero of the wasteland tribes. It is said his spear could break mountains. Supposedly he was defeated in battle with a great dragon and the location of his tomb has never been discovered. His spear is probably lying next to him and would probably scare the piss out of the Denaxans. Or maybe we could use it to bribe them into leaving. Or something.”
“The wastelands, eh? We haven’t been there yet. I bet they have different monsters to kill. Well, go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll use the rope tomorrow and head for the Western Escarpment. From there we can get some provisions, head through the passes and into the wastelands beyond. We’ll go looking for this tomb, find this legendary spear and see where things go from there.”
Asperon lay down on his bedroll while Thuvis settled down to watch the camp as the stars turned slowly overhead.
A short distance from the camp, a small green ball of light hovered nearby, working out stat blocks for monsters and reviewing each type’s unique abilities to make sure next week’s adventure would be a memorable one.[/sblock]
Afterword: not part of the story, just a recap of the pictures and some thoughts on my entry.
[sblock]Picture Recap
The candle candelabra: The Miracle of Everburning Candles in the temple of Pelor, radiant enough to both light up and heat the temple to summer temperatures. Also used as the means by which the cleric gets the initial information to relay to the characters. I thought the warm red-gold filter of the picture lent itself to being in a sun god’s temple, better than using some other deity’s temple would have. Thus the winter setting and opening the running gag of the barbarian’s clothing.
The California desert: a very bland image, I tried to use not just the desert as a locale, but to give everything in the picture; the path, the hills, etc, at least some play, even if it’s just a bit of direction to move the story forward. The idea of distant desolation tied all three outdoor images together, so that helped some too.
The harp seal: spoken to by Thuvis to get information on Malichon. The seal is the only creature of a non-hostile, kill-it-on-sight, nature that that the adventurers encounter in the frozen north. This is the sort of arcane, how the bleep were we supposed to figure that out, sort of clue that I’ve run into in LOTS of adventures run by not-so-experienced DMs at conventions who later on have to explain where their train of thought was actually going. So the image of a cute little baby seal worked nicely into the story.
The stone head in the flowers: Malichon, a galeb duhr, sitting for many years amongst the Tellis flowers. The story is obviously a fictionalized plug and play 4E adventure, with the one small exception of the galeb duhr, which 4e converted from pacifists to just another monster to kill. I always liked the 3.5 philosopher version sitting motionless for years. The image of a creature of stone sitting there while flowers grew all around it until it was almost obscured by them appealed to me. In fact, that particular idea jumped out of the picture as the very first idea to build the story around. Dei Ehm’s prerogative and presto! a dumb 4E monster becomes a 3.5 monster, and thus the basis for the story.
Like Deuce Traveler mentioned in his post (#327), three wildly differing picture settings suggested travel would need to be a part of the story. I could either use modern to futuristic transport or teleportation. Choosing teleporting moved the story towards fantasy, and fantasy has always been easier with my personal writing style. If I’d gone the SF route, the story would have taken place on multiple planets and been much different. But the idea of the galeb duhr, a creature I’ve never actually put into a campaign but have always liked the idea of, appealed to me conceptually. With that, it was easy to move to a D&D framework and the story took off from there.
I have always been firmly in the “I prefer 3.5” crowd, which means the reverse is also true (I dislike 4E). But Rich Burlew’s observation of 4E’s “it works as long as you’re willing to suspend disbelief” lent itself to the story more than 3.5 would have. That is why the skill test made it in there as well as the almost obligatory multiple monster fights. I started writing out the first combat encounter then realized if I kept going I’d have a novella by the time I was done. So they got a mention, but no more than that. I’ve always thought skill tests came across as forced plot devices, so why not write one as such? The idea of player characters who don’t realize that they are player characters and don’t always play “in character” has been done lots of places (The Gamers, DM of the Rings, OotS, Andre Norton’s Quag Keep, etc.), but it was still fun to play around with and helped smooth out what would have seemed to me to have been a very forced picture juxtaposition. I’m curious to see how PC and UselessTriviaMan work through them.
Once I had the images in place and the rough story outlined, everything mostly wrote itself. Clearly, I do better with light hearted writing off the cuff, although I can do dark when the muse hits just right. If I were writing professionally, I’d probably take the time to re-write this as a sci-fi piece, as well as write it as dark fiction, just to see the contrasts, then try to bring all of them together as a single piece. That one would probably take a few weeks to finish though.
The word count ran longer than I’d hoped, but I didn't want to get docked points for dropping stuff out and hoping the judges would understand the inferences. In my first entry I chopped an entire scene (the sword combat between the ambassadors in the gymnasium of the island - the actual picture in fact) and got judged negatively as a result. So I figured it would be best to put as much in there as needed to be to make the story complete. I hope it was as fun to read as it was for me to write.
Anyone who needs an adventure idea for their 4E campaign is welcome to try this one out. If you do, let me know how it goes. [/sblock]
enjoy!
word count: approximately 3210
[sblock]The Favor
The gray skies of a wintery morning hung across the city. Avoiding the townsfolk as they scurried towards shelter, Thuvis and Asperon moved with care through the litter and chaos of the street while high overhead a cow arced across the sky, bellowing madly in fear before landing violently (and explosively) on top of a nearby cloth vendor’s kiosk. Raising a hand to wipe a bit of bovine gore off his armor, Thuvis wondered if the reason for the cattle bombardment was that all of the neighboring rocks and combustibles had already been fired against the city in the previous weeks …doubtful. There were always rocks around and the most likely possibility was just that the catapult crews of the Denaxan Empire were bored with the more common missiles and were engaging in a bit of “let’s see what we can put over the city walls next”. At least they weren’t using peasants from the surrounding farms anymore. And besides, splashing renowned heroes such as himself and Asperon with cow entrails was just the sort of thing that the God of Twisted Plot Devices enjoyed. Asperon gazed down at the blood splashed across his winter furs, then turned to his partner of many campaigns and began speaking in a strange lingo.
“I still don’t see why we don’t just hop the wall and go on a killing spree. I know it’s a big army, but it’s probably ninety percent minions with only one hit point each. We would go through hundreds of them before we even got hurt ourselves and besides, according to our class features, we both fight better when we’re bloodied.”
At these words, a small green ball of light appeared beside Asperon’s head. A small spark of energy leaped out and zapped his ear.
METAGAMING INFRACTION. THREE HIT POINT PENALTY FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS GAME TIME. C’MON GUYS, FOLLOW THE BOXED TEXT.
Thuvis glanced over at his partner. “I still want to know why it is that the God of Twisted Plot Devices only does that to us. What is it that makes us special and no one else? I’d also like to know what some of the words it uses mean. “Game Time” suggests a competition of some sort, but who do we compete against?”
The barbarian looked confused as he rubbed the side of his head “Were my words possessed again? All I know is that now my ear hurts. Let’s get on to the temple and see what Joranz wants.”
The two adventurers had been together from the start of their careers. Occasionally they had been joined by others whose talents complemented their own, but for obscure sounding reasons like “work”, “school”, and inexplicably “the ball and chain”, those others had gradually left the team, never to be heard from again. Now it was just Thuvis and Asperon, warlord and barbarian, heroes of the realm who were (frequently it seemed) called upon to help those less capable.
From the very beginning, Thuvis and Asperon had been haunted, nay cursed, by the presence of the small green ball of light. It had first appeared when they were but fledgling heroes. They had answered a call to arms, tossing back a small goblin encroachment on some farmsteads and somewhere during that first adventure, the small green light had adopted them. Over the subsequent months, they had determined that it was not a demon or a devil. It was not aligned in any sense, nor was it magical. Remove Curse had no effect on it, nor did any other type of arcane or divine ritual. It appeared to be invisible and undetectable to almost everyone they met. And while it followed only them, if anyone joined their band, they too would be occasionally targeted by the thing’s effects until that individual left once more. Finally, Thuvis and Asperon had traveled to the capitol to consult with the master sage, Barnabus Barnaby. It was Barnabus who had told them of an obscure deity outside the rest of the pantheon of gods, the God of Twisted Plot Devices or Deificus Maliciositi (or Dei Ehm in the Elder Tongue). Omnipotent, and almost omniscient, it was written that the god would follow them until the day they retired, then it would move on to hover over and torment some other poor souls. But in all of his researching, Barnabus had found no other means of banishing the god. The two adventurers had no intention of dissolving their partnership for a life of ease and retirement, so the damned thing was something they’d gradually learned to tolerate and mostly ignore. The only side effect was an occasional tendency on their parts to speaking gibberish, which in turn would be punished by a spark from the green ball of light.
The unfairness of it all was self evident.
Ever since the arrival of the armies of the Denaxan Empire outside the city walls, the two adventurers had been speaking with city officials and researching private libraries, looking for some way that they could end the war and bring peace to the land again. It had seemed a fruitless task until the small green ball had appeared above them last night, just before an emissary from Joranz Jor had approached them with a possible mission.
Thuvis and Asperon moved up the Avenue of Temples towards Summerhaem, the grand temple of Pelor in the city. They went up the steps and through the doors and into the sunny warmth of the temple’s interior. Several townsfolk were huddled in groups near the entrance, being fed bread and wine by the temple acolytes. Many had lost their homes during the continuous catapult assault and the temples of the city were the first to open their doors to the needy and oppressed.
They moved on to the other end of the main temple chamber and each dropped a few gold coins into the offering box. Above them, the miracle of the Everburning Candles of Pelor blazed away, radiating heat and light, banishing the darkness and constantly demonstrating the power of the God to all who passed by. It was said that even in the heaviest of winter snows, the area surrounding the grand temple remained clear of ice and snow, warmed by the God’s power. But Thuvis and Asperon had yet to see this for themselves. What was obvious was the chill of winter air outside had no place here. Asperon cursed under his breath as beads of sweat appeared on his brow and he began hurriedly removing his heavy fur outer garments. Thuvis threw back his winter cloak and turned as Joranz Jor, solar divine of the Sun God’s temple approached them.
Sitting comfortably in Joranz’s office and enjoying a cup of sacramental wine, the temple divine explained.
“Many years ago, during my own adventuring days, I met a creature from the elemental plane of Earth. The creature’s name was Malichon and my adventuring group did a service for it with the promise that it would owe us a favor someday in return. Many years have passed since then, but we never did claim the service we were promised. At one point we went to speak with Malichon only to find that it had moved on to some other locale, and we never had the time to track it down. In time we went on to other things and the whole thing was forgotten.
“During the past few weeks, as I have prayed for guidance beneath the Miracle of Pelor, I have been given a vision of Malichon sitting, gazing towards a distant horizon. Using auguries, portents and divinations from blessed Pelor, I have since determined that Malichon is the key to breaking the siege of our beleaguered city. It seems time now to call upon the favor due. I would go myself, but my duties as the head divine keep me here. So I am offering you this mission and the chance to save the city and win glory, honor and riches. What do you say?”
***
The twinkling glow of the teleport circle faded around them and Thuvis and Asperon looked around at the scenery.
“We’re a long way from home.” remarked Asperon as he began removing and packing his winter furs away.
“Yes, judging by the tree cacti, it looks like the Fulani Desert, on the southern continent. It’s mid-summer down here and you’ll probably be more comfortable with just your leathers.”
“Sand and thorns. I hate deserts,” growled the barbarian.
“Well,” replied his companion, “Joranz did mention that Malichon preferred desolate locations, far from the civilized lands. This desert was where they encountered him years ago. It’s unlikely that he’s still around, but hopefully we can find out where he headed off to next. At least Joranz gave us magical transportation so we didn’t have to walk.”
As Asperon finished his wardrobe adjustments, Thuvis coiled the enchanted circle of rope Joranz Jor had given them and stored it in his pack. Asperon scouted around until he found the trail that Joranz had mentioned. Then the two of them headed north through the cactus groves, leading towards a saddle between two hills.
After several days of fighting off manticores, great sand worms, swarms of blood flies and Fulani nomads, the two had had just about all of the exciting desert adventure they could stand. Killing monsters from faraway lands was sort of fun but it didn’t seem to be furthering their quest very much. Finally, under the watching glow of the green ball of light, they had met a Fulani wise woman in a village of tents. Wracking their brains to find different ways of eliciting the knowledge they needed from her, the woman had sat patiently listening to one argument after another, faintly smiling under the green glow of the god. Finally as if some sufficiency of reasons had been given to her, she had told them that yes, Malichon had once sat upon a nearby hill watching the skies turn, but had moved on several years past when she was just a young woman. She had been a student of the creature, learning wisdom through patience and it had spoken a single word before departing, “Arctinis”. The adventurers thanked her and then used the teleport rope to travel back to the capitol.
The following morning, the two prepared to leave for their next destination. The winter shedding warmth from the Candles of Pelor radiated down upon them once more as Joranz Jor continued to brief them.
“Arctinis is a province in northern Galandria.” said Joranz. “Watch out for the wind off the Frozen Seas. It’s quite cold.”
“What? Wait! I need my furs from my-“ …and the twinkling glow of the teleport cut off the rest of Asperon’s protests.
A pack of polar bears, a remorhaz, a cryohydra and a small white dragon later, Thuvis and Asperon did not seem to be making much headway. It seemed as if the bleak frozen tundra of the Arctinis coastline was home to a variety of creatures, but all of them had been more interested in eating the two adventurers, rather than talking with them or giving them some clue as to the whereabouts of Malichon. The only exception to this had been a baby harp seal that they had startled with their sudden appearance when they had first arrived. The seal had just stared at them with this comical look of astonishment on its face. Asperon had almost clubbed the helpless creature to death, but Thuvis had cryptically said “it’s not worth any XP”, prompting a green spark to the ear. The two had ignored the seal thereafter.
Now on their third night in Arctinis, they were camped around a fire debating if one of their former companions, a halfling of Littlehill, had been right about the correct method of roasting remorhaz steaks over a fire. Thuvis continued asserting that the meat was too gamey, while Asperon kept saying that the barbarian tribes of the plains that he’d come from ate all sorts of things you wouldn’t find served at an inn of the capitol, and that remorhaz was actually pretty good stuff in comparison to some of the things he’d been forced to eat as a boy. They both agreed that it was a damned shame the dragon had crashed into the sea and been pulled under by something in the water. Dragon steaks were always the best no matter how they were prepared.
Thuvis glanced up at the God of Twisted Plot Devices.
“You know it’s been hovering up there for most of the day now.”
“I know,” agreed Asperon. “Normally it pops in for a bit and then leaves again. We’re probably not making progress as fast as it would like.” He turned to the small glowing ball. “Maybe a hint or something? Otherwise we’re just going to keep killing monsters and debating culinary techniques.” But the green light just winked out, while out beyond the circle of firelight, the harping of the seals could be heard from the nearby shoreline.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes while wheels turned, synapses fired, and a bit of thinking went on outside of regularly shaped boxes. At least that’s what happened to Thuvis. Asperon was busy gazing up at the starscape of the northern skies and fondly remembering a tavern back at the capitol and some of the things he’d tasted in the past. Thuvis turned and began digging stuff out from the bottom of his adventurer’s field pack, eventually pulling out a small flask.
“What’s that for?” asked Asperon.
“Follow me.” replied Thuvis.
Making his way back to where they had first appeared, Thuvis walked over to the harp seal and squatted down in front of it. Pulling the stopper, he drank down the liquid inside and then looked at the seal.
“You wouldn’t happen to know of a being called Malichon, would you?”
Asteron watched as the seal blinked a few times, gazed soulfully up at Thuvis and then started barking happily. Asteron moved away and listened for a while to the roar of the waves as they lashed the beaches. “Not a twisted plot device, just one bent the Nine Hells out of all recognition. ” he muttered to himself while behind him, a faint green glow lit the warlord and the barking seal.
“Malichon? Malichon? He’s one of my best friends! He would sit and I would tell him stories, and he would sit and I would tell him more stories and he would sit and I would tell him even more stories! Not even the seagulls sit around for even more stories after that, but Malichon would sit all day and listen and listen and listen!” With the patience that only a warlord skilled at commanding armies, herding cats and driving reticent barbarians to his will could muster, Thuvis gradually waded through the exuberance of the seal and then walked over to Asperon.
“I know where Malichon went from here.”
“Excellent. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning should be fine.”
“Good. I have something to take care of in the mean time…”
The following morning, Thuvis laid out the teleport rope and set about laying out the ritual for their destination. Glancing at Asperon with a smile on his face, he activated the device. As the warm wet air of the southern tropics washed across them, Asperon tore his new seal fur hat off his head and threw it to the ground while Thuvis started laughing.
“It’s not funny. After freezing for three days, I spent five hours curing the hide and crafting that hat. How was I supposed to know we’d be back in the south again?”
“You should have left the seal alone. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.
Thuvis continued, “The seal told me that Malichon said one word before he left, “Trellis”. I’m assuming that he was referring to the Trellis daisies that bloom day and night, and are only found only on a few islands in the Sharkshead Archipelago. Let’s take a look around and see if we can find this Malichon creature.”
Asperon responded, “Desert, tundra, tropics. It’ll be the Wastelands next, mark my words. I need a beer.”
The island was not all that big and it didn’t take the two long to quarter the island and search each part. But other than a flock of gargoyles, dispatched with the duo’s customary style, and which Thuvis insisted were referred to as a “notre” of gargoyles, there was no sign of anything larger than a ground shrew anywhere on the island. Asperon couldn’t understand what gargoyles were doing on a tropic isle, but Thuvis was encouraged because he thought they were elemental Earth creatures, which indicated Malichon might be nearby. Finally they set up camp near a large patch of trellis daisies, finished off the last of the dried remorhaz they had in their packs, and Thuvis went to sleep while Asperon stood watch.
A short while later, the barbarian shook the warlord awake.
“You gotta see this. There’s a rock that keeps mumbling at me.”
Asperon led Thuvis to the center of the field of flowers. There a large boulder could be seen peeking up amongst the blooms, but when Thuvis activated the radiant aura of his armor, the rockface shifted, becoming a humanoid head that seemed carved from granite. The eyes on the head slowly opened and in a gravelly voice it asked, “WHY?”
Thuvis addressed the head, “Are you Malichon? The Galeb Duhr Rockcaller that was once aided by Joranz Jor and his party of the Bright Swords? High Priest Jor calls upon you now to repay the favor owed to him and help us to relieve the siege of the Denaxan Empire upon our city. By the light of Pelor’s Everburning Candles, the Sun God has shown that you can aid us. What is your reply?”
As the two adventurers braced for possible combat, the stone creature sat there for a few moments, then it spoke.
“Ragoshet.”
Then the head shifted once more, becoming nothing more than a boulder surrounded by flowers.
“What the hell is a Ragoshet?" asked Thuvis.
Asperon sighed, “Ragoshet is the name of a barbarian hero of the wasteland tribes. It is said his spear could break mountains. Supposedly he was defeated in battle with a great dragon and the location of his tomb has never been discovered. His spear is probably lying next to him and would probably scare the piss out of the Denaxans. Or maybe we could use it to bribe them into leaving. Or something.”
“The wastelands, eh? We haven’t been there yet. I bet they have different monsters to kill. Well, go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll use the rope tomorrow and head for the Western Escarpment. From there we can get some provisions, head through the passes and into the wastelands beyond. We’ll go looking for this tomb, find this legendary spear and see where things go from there.”
Asperon lay down on his bedroll while Thuvis settled down to watch the camp as the stars turned slowly overhead.
A short distance from the camp, a small green ball of light hovered nearby, working out stat blocks for monsters and reviewing each type’s unique abilities to make sure next week’s adventure would be a memorable one.[/sblock]
Afterword: not part of the story, just a recap of the pictures and some thoughts on my entry.
[sblock]Picture Recap
The candle candelabra: The Miracle of Everburning Candles in the temple of Pelor, radiant enough to both light up and heat the temple to summer temperatures. Also used as the means by which the cleric gets the initial information to relay to the characters. I thought the warm red-gold filter of the picture lent itself to being in a sun god’s temple, better than using some other deity’s temple would have. Thus the winter setting and opening the running gag of the barbarian’s clothing.
The California desert: a very bland image, I tried to use not just the desert as a locale, but to give everything in the picture; the path, the hills, etc, at least some play, even if it’s just a bit of direction to move the story forward. The idea of distant desolation tied all three outdoor images together, so that helped some too.
The harp seal: spoken to by Thuvis to get information on Malichon. The seal is the only creature of a non-hostile, kill-it-on-sight, nature that that the adventurers encounter in the frozen north. This is the sort of arcane, how the bleep were we supposed to figure that out, sort of clue that I’ve run into in LOTS of adventures run by not-so-experienced DMs at conventions who later on have to explain where their train of thought was actually going. So the image of a cute little baby seal worked nicely into the story.
The stone head in the flowers: Malichon, a galeb duhr, sitting for many years amongst the Tellis flowers. The story is obviously a fictionalized plug and play 4E adventure, with the one small exception of the galeb duhr, which 4e converted from pacifists to just another monster to kill. I always liked the 3.5 philosopher version sitting motionless for years. The image of a creature of stone sitting there while flowers grew all around it until it was almost obscured by them appealed to me. In fact, that particular idea jumped out of the picture as the very first idea to build the story around. Dei Ehm’s prerogative and presto! a dumb 4E monster becomes a 3.5 monster, and thus the basis for the story.
Like Deuce Traveler mentioned in his post (#327), three wildly differing picture settings suggested travel would need to be a part of the story. I could either use modern to futuristic transport or teleportation. Choosing teleporting moved the story towards fantasy, and fantasy has always been easier with my personal writing style. If I’d gone the SF route, the story would have taken place on multiple planets and been much different. But the idea of the galeb duhr, a creature I’ve never actually put into a campaign but have always liked the idea of, appealed to me conceptually. With that, it was easy to move to a D&D framework and the story took off from there.
I have always been firmly in the “I prefer 3.5” crowd, which means the reverse is also true (I dislike 4E). But Rich Burlew’s observation of 4E’s “it works as long as you’re willing to suspend disbelief” lent itself to the story more than 3.5 would have. That is why the skill test made it in there as well as the almost obligatory multiple monster fights. I started writing out the first combat encounter then realized if I kept going I’d have a novella by the time I was done. So they got a mention, but no more than that. I’ve always thought skill tests came across as forced plot devices, so why not write one as such? The idea of player characters who don’t realize that they are player characters and don’t always play “in character” has been done lots of places (The Gamers, DM of the Rings, OotS, Andre Norton’s Quag Keep, etc.), but it was still fun to play around with and helped smooth out what would have seemed to me to have been a very forced picture juxtaposition. I’m curious to see how PC and UselessTriviaMan work through them.
Once I had the images in place and the rough story outlined, everything mostly wrote itself. Clearly, I do better with light hearted writing off the cuff, although I can do dark when the muse hits just right. If I were writing professionally, I’d probably take the time to re-write this as a sci-fi piece, as well as write it as dark fiction, just to see the contrasts, then try to bring all of them together as a single piece. That one would probably take a few weeks to finish though.
The word count ran longer than I’d hoped, but I didn't want to get docked points for dropping stuff out and hoping the judges would understand the inferences. In my first entry I chopped an entire scene (the sword combat between the ambassadors in the gymnasium of the island - the actual picture in fact) and got judged negatively as a result. So I figured it would be best to put as much in there as needed to be to make the story complete. I hope it was as fun to read as it was for me to write.
Anyone who needs an adventure idea for their 4E campaign is welcome to try this one out. If you do, let me know how it goes. [/sblock]
phoamslinger
Explorer
damn. 2 typos. I thought I caught all of them. oh well, consider them a gift to steeldragons (end of post #245).
Rodrigo Istalindir
Explorer
Fire when ready, Gridley.
