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(Cydra) The Year 271 Campaign (Low Magic experiment)
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4117293" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Gibberlings boil out of the cave before Sir Harth, the traitor. He cries out in surprise as they swarm all around him. With a snarl, Harth whirls around, his blade slashing left and right, thrusting forward and then sweeping up in a parry before skewering another of the little creatures trying to drag him down.</p><p></p><p>“HARTH!!!” Lord Cedric bellows again. “WE THALL BRING YOU TO JUTHTITHE!!!”</p><p></p><p>Even as the Lord of Whitewater begins rushing forward to the fray, with the other warriors of the group following on his heels, Otis hurls a blazing <em>fireball</em> forward, ahead of the group. It explodes in a brilliant orange-white flower, and the massive gibbering is suddenly mixed with the screams of cooking gibberlings.</p><p></p><p>“Concentrate on the beholder!” Adelle urges the party, firing a <em>magic missile</em> at it. Lord Cedric shouts wild agreement, while the elves accompanying our heroes begin to pepper the weird sphere of many eyes with arrows. Unfortunately, the shafts bounce off the beholder’s tough-looking hide without effect. </p><p></p><p>The monster begins rising up in the air, and one of the small eyes upon its crown fires a strange yellow ray at Sir Harth. Harth laughs fiendishly as the beholder’s ray lifts him into the air, out of reach of the gibberlings. “Now we’ll finish this at last!” he sneers at the party, sheathing his blade and drawing out his bow. He nocks an arrow and fires it at Sir Colder. “Here, messenger,” he calls disdainfully, “take <em>this</em> to Sir Galadon!”* With that, Harth lets fly, and the arrow sinks deeply into Sir Colder’s abdomen. </p><p></p><p>“Aargh!” Colder cries, then gasps as the poison takes hold. He feels his fingers go numb- his feet feel as though they are falling asleep, but painfully. </p><p></p><p>The beholder glares down at our heroes from above, firing eye rays into the group with a leering grin. Colder suffers several blasts that open wounds on him, but manages to avoid becoming petrified. Another eye zaps Thane Stoxis of the duergar, and he groans and raises a hand to his head, looking bewildered for a moment. Still other eye rays tear into the gibberlings further back in the chamber. </p><p></p><p>And the horde of short, hairy, gibbering, bestial humanoids pours into our heroes. Adelle and Otis find themselves momentarily impotent as the beholder’s central eye catches them in its antimagical glare. The elves, too, have a similar problem. They realize that it is too late to back out of this fight, and whip their blades free of their scabbards. </p><p></p><p>Then Thane Stoxis attacks- but he attacks <em>Sir Colder,</em> charging into him and hacking into his chest and left arm with brutal force! Sir Colder gives a cry of pain and flies into the wall, then crumples onto the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Fortunately, he is out of the mass of gibberlings!</p><p></p><p>“Thir Colder!” cries Lord Cedric. With a loud battle cry, he charges Thunderpuss at the thane, crashing into him with terrific force. </p><p></p><p>The beholder drops Sir Harth back to the floor, where he immediately charges Lord Cedric. The two begin dueling, with Thane Stoxis flanking Cedric. The two of them press him- and Thunderpuss- hard. The Lord of Whitewater parries the dwarven axe, then whirls to defend against Sir Harth’s bastard sword. He can only block so many blows; both of them are puissant warriors. A massive axe blow catches Cedric across one leg, while Harth thrusts into his side. Cedric feels steel grate against, and crack, several of his ribs. He withdraws for the moment, hoping that his allies can hold off the enemy long enough for him to heal himself. </p><p></p><p>But the rest of the party have their hands full, between the deadly eye rays, the antimagic cone, the duergar thane, Sir Harth and dozens of gibberlings! Kyle keeps up a steady stream of arrows at the beholder, but he keeps missing. The spellcasters find themselves forced to resort to slings. The beholder laughs, though it has taken a few minor wounds. “Keep it up!” Kyle exhorts the others. “We <em>have</em> to kill that thing, fast!!”</p><p></p><p>The beholder laughs again. An eye beam stabs at Sheriff Jorgen, and he gasps and collapses, rendered asleep. Dahlia moves up next to him, firing another sling shot at the beholder as soon as she reaches him. Her badger drops down and growls at Jorgen, then bites his sleeve and begins to shake him. Jorgen’s eyes flutter and open. </p><p></p><p>The gibberlings are everywhere. The beholder has killed or petrified several of them, as has Harth; but our heroes have been focusing on their true enemies. </p><p></p><p>Suddenly <em>something else</em> enters the fray. </p><p></p><p>On the fringes of things, along the flanks of the seething mass of gibberlings, a flight of eyeless eels suddenly appears, wriggling grotesquely through the air. It closes with the churning mass of furry little monsters, and the eels all swarm onto one of them, tearing into it like a vicious school of piranha. The gibberling squeals, but the eels have latched on; it cannot escape. The eels seem to pull back, dragging the gibberling up into the air by their teeth. It screams a reedy scream, and then the eels pull back more, but almost as if they were crossing some weird threshold, their rear portions seem to <em>vanish...</em> and when they drag the gibberling through that threshold, it, too, vanishes. Its scream cuts off as soon as its head vanishes. </p><p></p><p>There are plenty more, though... swarming all over everything, falling in droves to the warriors, but preventing them from <em>finishing this.</em></p><p></p><p>There is a loud <em><strong>crack!</strong></em> and the smell of ozone, and almost a dozen gibberlings fly apart as one of the elves accompanying our heroes, finally out of the beholder’s antimagic cone, unleashes a <em>lightning bolt.</em> It blasts into the beholder, too, rocking it. It glares downward angrily. The other elf, meanwhile, fires off a <em>scorching ray</em> that blasts into the beholder, burning a huge seeping wound into its flesh. It gnashes its teeth and glares at the elf, but it is plainly shaken by the two spells’ combined effects. </p><p></p><p>Goer and Me finally manage to cut through the horde of gibberlings and get into the midst of things, swinging at Sir Harth and the duergar thane, punishing them heavily. Meanwhile, at a safe distance, Lord Cedric gulps down a healing potion. He sighs as his wounds close up. If there were time, he would <em>love</em> to take a drink right now. But there is no time. He must rejoin his manly brothers in arms immediately. </p><p></p><p>“Remember, we mutht keep him alive to find a way home!” Cedric cries. </p><p></p><p>Jorgen, meanwhile, throws a lasso at Sir Harth- and lands it expertly around his arms! With a jerk, the sheriff draws it tight. Sir Harth gives a cry of surprise, trying to turn his sword at the rope, but Goer is there to parry his blow, just in time! </p><p></p><p>Then Thane Stoxis has all of Goer’s attention. He captures it expertly, via his axe. Thankfully, the gibberlings getting pretty thin. </p><p></p><p>While the beholder’s antimagical eye is focused on the two elves (who moved away from the rest of the party), Otis fires a <em>magic missile</em> at it. He grins fiercely as his magical volley peppers it with wounds. It glares at him from several of its eyestalks, but its central eye remains focused on the elves.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, the eyeless eels reappear. Against, merciless and swift, they swim through the air to one of the gibberlings and attack, then somehow draw it <em>away,</em> vanishing in the process. </p><p></p><p>The beholder stabs Harth with that yellow ray again, and begins to lift him above the fray again. </p><p></p><p>“No you don’t!” Sheriff Jorgen braces himself and draws the rope taut, looping the rope around his saddle horn as if he were trying to drag the beholder down by its <em>telekinesis</em>. Kyle darts up and fires an arrow at Harth from only about 10’ away, almost taunting him with his nearness. </p><p></p><p>Harth struggles ineffectively, caught suspended in the air between the beholder and the saddle. The sheriff’s horse whinnies, but it stays on the ground. The beholder gnashes its teeth angrily.</p><p></p><p>Then the evil knight slashes the rope, and frees himself. With an exultant grin, he swirls the motion of his body into a deadly thrust at Sir Fwaigo. He gasps, staggering back, but manages to retain his footing. Another blow would be the end of him, especially if it were to be to a critical organ or area of his body.** </p><p></p><p>The male elf leaps forward, sword drawn. With a lightning-quick stab, he unleashes a massive <em>arcane strike</em> on the beholder. It gives a bellow of pain- and collapses.</p><p></p><p>“No!” cries Sir Harth, an instant before he drops to the ground. </p><p></p><p>Thane Stoxis stops fighting and falls back, shaking his head. “What?” he groans. </p><p></p><p>Jorgen runs the last of the gibberlings through.</p><p></p><p>The party converges on Harth, punching, striking with the flats of their blades, kicking. </p><p></p><p>They have him at last. </p><p></p><p>Now- <em>can they get home?</em></p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Well, <em>can they??</em></p><p></p><p>*Sir Galadon- more properly, <em>Lord</em> Galadon- is one of Sir Colder’s lords (with Lord Cedric the other). Long-time readers may recall him as Harth’s opposite number on the baron’s council from Kamenda City.</p><p></p><p>**In my game we use something called Wyrd, which are akin to fate points. In this battle, everyone burned a wyrd- because Sir Harth’s next attack was a crit. This mass wyrd-burning turned it into a complete and total miss instead.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4117293, member: 1210"] Gibberlings boil out of the cave before Sir Harth, the traitor. He cries out in surprise as they swarm all around him. With a snarl, Harth whirls around, his blade slashing left and right, thrusting forward and then sweeping up in a parry before skewering another of the little creatures trying to drag him down. “HARTH!!!” Lord Cedric bellows again. “WE THALL BRING YOU TO JUTHTITHE!!!” Even as the Lord of Whitewater begins rushing forward to the fray, with the other warriors of the group following on his heels, Otis hurls a blazing [i]fireball[/i] forward, ahead of the group. It explodes in a brilliant orange-white flower, and the massive gibbering is suddenly mixed with the screams of cooking gibberlings. “Concentrate on the beholder!” Adelle urges the party, firing a [i]magic missile[/i] at it. Lord Cedric shouts wild agreement, while the elves accompanying our heroes begin to pepper the weird sphere of many eyes with arrows. Unfortunately, the shafts bounce off the beholder’s tough-looking hide without effect. The monster begins rising up in the air, and one of the small eyes upon its crown fires a strange yellow ray at Sir Harth. Harth laughs fiendishly as the beholder’s ray lifts him into the air, out of reach of the gibberlings. “Now we’ll finish this at last!” he sneers at the party, sheathing his blade and drawing out his bow. He nocks an arrow and fires it at Sir Colder. “Here, messenger,” he calls disdainfully, “take [i]this[/i] to Sir Galadon!”* With that, Harth lets fly, and the arrow sinks deeply into Sir Colder’s abdomen. “Aargh!” Colder cries, then gasps as the poison takes hold. He feels his fingers go numb- his feet feel as though they are falling asleep, but painfully. The beholder glares down at our heroes from above, firing eye rays into the group with a leering grin. Colder suffers several blasts that open wounds on him, but manages to avoid becoming petrified. Another eye zaps Thane Stoxis of the duergar, and he groans and raises a hand to his head, looking bewildered for a moment. Still other eye rays tear into the gibberlings further back in the chamber. And the horde of short, hairy, gibbering, bestial humanoids pours into our heroes. Adelle and Otis find themselves momentarily impotent as the beholder’s central eye catches them in its antimagical glare. The elves, too, have a similar problem. They realize that it is too late to back out of this fight, and whip their blades free of their scabbards. Then Thane Stoxis attacks- but he attacks [i]Sir Colder,[/i] charging into him and hacking into his chest and left arm with brutal force! Sir Colder gives a cry of pain and flies into the wall, then crumples onto the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Fortunately, he is out of the mass of gibberlings! “Thir Colder!” cries Lord Cedric. With a loud battle cry, he charges Thunderpuss at the thane, crashing into him with terrific force. The beholder drops Sir Harth back to the floor, where he immediately charges Lord Cedric. The two begin dueling, with Thane Stoxis flanking Cedric. The two of them press him- and Thunderpuss- hard. The Lord of Whitewater parries the dwarven axe, then whirls to defend against Sir Harth’s bastard sword. He can only block so many blows; both of them are puissant warriors. A massive axe blow catches Cedric across one leg, while Harth thrusts into his side. Cedric feels steel grate against, and crack, several of his ribs. He withdraws for the moment, hoping that his allies can hold off the enemy long enough for him to heal himself. But the rest of the party have their hands full, between the deadly eye rays, the antimagic cone, the duergar thane, Sir Harth and dozens of gibberlings! Kyle keeps up a steady stream of arrows at the beholder, but he keeps missing. The spellcasters find themselves forced to resort to slings. The beholder laughs, though it has taken a few minor wounds. “Keep it up!” Kyle exhorts the others. “We [i]have[/i] to kill that thing, fast!!” The beholder laughs again. An eye beam stabs at Sheriff Jorgen, and he gasps and collapses, rendered asleep. Dahlia moves up next to him, firing another sling shot at the beholder as soon as she reaches him. Her badger drops down and growls at Jorgen, then bites his sleeve and begins to shake him. Jorgen’s eyes flutter and open. The gibberlings are everywhere. The beholder has killed or petrified several of them, as has Harth; but our heroes have been focusing on their true enemies. Suddenly [i]something else[/i] enters the fray. On the fringes of things, along the flanks of the seething mass of gibberlings, a flight of eyeless eels suddenly appears, wriggling grotesquely through the air. It closes with the churning mass of furry little monsters, and the eels all swarm onto one of them, tearing into it like a vicious school of piranha. The gibberling squeals, but the eels have latched on; it cannot escape. The eels seem to pull back, dragging the gibberling up into the air by their teeth. It screams a reedy scream, and then the eels pull back more, but almost as if they were crossing some weird threshold, their rear portions seem to [i]vanish...[/i] and when they drag the gibberling through that threshold, it, too, vanishes. Its scream cuts off as soon as its head vanishes. There are plenty more, though... swarming all over everything, falling in droves to the warriors, but preventing them from [i]finishing this.[/i] There is a loud [i][b]crack![/b][/i][b][/b] and the smell of ozone, and almost a dozen gibberlings fly apart as one of the elves accompanying our heroes, finally out of the beholder’s antimagic cone, unleashes a [i]lightning bolt.[/i] It blasts into the beholder, too, rocking it. It glares downward angrily. The other elf, meanwhile, fires off a [i]scorching ray[/i] that blasts into the beholder, burning a huge seeping wound into its flesh. It gnashes its teeth and glares at the elf, but it is plainly shaken by the two spells’ combined effects. Goer and Me finally manage to cut through the horde of gibberlings and get into the midst of things, swinging at Sir Harth and the duergar thane, punishing them heavily. Meanwhile, at a safe distance, Lord Cedric gulps down a healing potion. He sighs as his wounds close up. If there were time, he would [i]love[/i] to take a drink right now. But there is no time. He must rejoin his manly brothers in arms immediately. “Remember, we mutht keep him alive to find a way home!” Cedric cries. Jorgen, meanwhile, throws a lasso at Sir Harth- and lands it expertly around his arms! With a jerk, the sheriff draws it tight. Sir Harth gives a cry of surprise, trying to turn his sword at the rope, but Goer is there to parry his blow, just in time! Then Thane Stoxis has all of Goer’s attention. He captures it expertly, via his axe. Thankfully, the gibberlings getting pretty thin. While the beholder’s antimagical eye is focused on the two elves (who moved away from the rest of the party), Otis fires a [i]magic missile[/i] at it. He grins fiercely as his magical volley peppers it with wounds. It glares at him from several of its eyestalks, but its central eye remains focused on the elves. Meanwhile, the eyeless eels reappear. Against, merciless and swift, they swim through the air to one of the gibberlings and attack, then somehow draw it [i]away,[/i] vanishing in the process. The beholder stabs Harth with that yellow ray again, and begins to lift him above the fray again. “No you don’t!” Sheriff Jorgen braces himself and draws the rope taut, looping the rope around his saddle horn as if he were trying to drag the beholder down by its [i]telekinesis[/i]. Kyle darts up and fires an arrow at Harth from only about 10’ away, almost taunting him with his nearness. Harth struggles ineffectively, caught suspended in the air between the beholder and the saddle. The sheriff’s horse whinnies, but it stays on the ground. The beholder gnashes its teeth angrily. Then the evil knight slashes the rope, and frees himself. With an exultant grin, he swirls the motion of his body into a deadly thrust at Sir Fwaigo. He gasps, staggering back, but manages to retain his footing. Another blow would be the end of him, especially if it were to be to a critical organ or area of his body.** The male elf leaps forward, sword drawn. With a lightning-quick stab, he unleashes a massive [i]arcane strike[/i] on the beholder. It gives a bellow of pain- and collapses. “No!” cries Sir Harth, an instant before he drops to the ground. Thane Stoxis stops fighting and falls back, shaking his head. “What?” he groans. Jorgen runs the last of the gibberlings through. The party converges on Harth, punching, striking with the flats of their blades, kicking. They have him at last. Now- [i]can they get home?[/i] [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Well, [i]can they??[/i] *Sir Galadon- more properly, [i]Lord[/i] Galadon- is one of Sir Colder’s lords (with Lord Cedric the other). Long-time readers may recall him as Harth’s opposite number on the baron’s council from Kamenda City. **In my game we use something called Wyrd, which are akin to fate points. In this battle, everyone burned a wyrd- because Sir Harth’s next attack was a crit. This mass wyrd-burning turned it into a complete and total miss instead. [/QUOTE]
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