Pedestrian
Explorer
Ahoy ye scurvy dogs,
In the spirit of Speak Like a Pirate Day, this here old salt has opted to make his inaugaral post one detailing the exploits of his crew o' scallawags an' ne'er-do-wells. Though ye may have read it elsewhere on th' high seas, I assure you, tis much easier on the eyes here, what with the black background and white text. An', ye know, what good are the deeds o' a true pirate, if'n ye can't brag in e'ery port ye come across?
So, wi'out further preamble...
Session 1: Set sail for adventure, treasure and flaming monkeys!
Able hands and worthy salts had been called to a taverna in Amuel, the former Moorish settlement turned pirate cove. The man doing the calling? Captain Asif, lately of the Moorish navy. A sea dog, an able captain, a man of faith and a privateer for his people, he’d also garnered quite the reputation for being a treasure hunter. Many were those who’d taken ship with him and come back rich for it.
Asif, the brave captain of the ship, looks like Morgan Freeman from Robin Hood, except with an eye-patch and no head hair. He’s a Fighter/Unist Cleric, following the Ibrahimic tradition. Everyone likes Asif – I’m glad of this, as he’s the only NPC I can remember at any given time, In retrospect, this may be why they like him.
Two of the sea-dogs who’d taken up the call set out by Captain Asif were Tamarin and Jornan. Tamarin was Han born, though mixed with the blood of elves. A passable sailor at best, it was the skill at guns and fighting that made Tamarin worth the passage, as the whole crew would soon see. Jornan was a rune worker of the Norskar, a massive, bear-like man of dark eye and knowing countenance. He called the very airs of the storm to abide by his business. It just so happened he was also one hell of a cook, and it was under that aegis he’d often get himself aboard, disdaining to manipulate the rune-work unless necessary. It is this pair of rogues that our story will follow.
Our heroes. You’ll notice, as the write-up progresses, that the characters don’t really seem to speak much. That’d be because the players didn’t say much in character – they were still getting used to everything, and Jornan’s player is quiet as a mouse anyway.
Tamarin is a Han half-elven Ranger/Sorcerer, with a focus on Fire spells. Tamarin wields a quarterstaff and twin pistols. The staff also helps Tamarin focus on spell-casting, and has history. Tamarin is played by my partner, and it is largely at her insistence that we’re playing Swashbuckler. It was that, Eberron, or a fate worse than death!
Jornan, a Nosrkar Druid/Conjurer, is summoning mad! Spell Focus (Conjuration), Augment Summoning and Combat Casting. Played by my best friend, I think the idea is, at some point, to use Summon Monster IX to conjure up some sort of Storm Squid, which is patently ridiculous and also exactly what we like to see. Arcane Hierophant from Races of the Wild brings tears to the boy’s eyes.
Upon the table, under hand, Asif had a weathered parchment, stained by sea and perhaps little blood. Up until now, he’d been shielding it with one of his scarred hands. Now, as he cast his one jet-black eye about his newly gained crew, he unrolled the parchment, revealing a weathered and battered map of the Chain of Tears. With one callused figure, he pointed to an island just of the coast of the Peninsula of Dread.
“This, with the One’s blessing, is where we shall sail. Upon this isle, there are buried riches of the Elves. Any who would not risk the wrath of the heathen empire may walk from this place, and no word shall be cast against his name,” Asif had already called only those whom he knew would not be spooked by risk of elven marines – dire as the risk might be. Not a man moved. “Good.” He smiled, his teeth white against the dark skin of his sun-beaten face. “Then we set sale at-“
“Asif, ya thievin’ (Dog)!” The door to the taverna burst open, and a massive man, likely of Norskar blood – though probably some other black sludge might have likely been found floating through those veins - and brandishing a heavy looking war axe stepped through. He wore a blood red cape, much like the legendary ‘Red’ Craben. “Ye’ve stolen something from me and I mean to have it back!” Behind him streamed in a gang of ill-fated looking scallawags, rough sorts who’d be just as happy to see red as gold.
Red and Family will be turning up a bit. Keep out an eye and all that. Red is a Fighter/Barbarian, wielding a war axe two-handed. Red is slightly more memorable than Asif, but only because he’s just a bit pants really. Tamarin will kick his arse.
“Red” Asif rose as he spoke, waving one arm in welcome as the other nonchalantly placed the map into a pouch. “It is hardly becoming of a man to decry the will of the One, particularly when it comes to bad hand of cards.” He looked over one shoulder. “Considers myself your captain. To my side!” The rogues around the table eagerly surged to their feat.
Tamarin, fire quick, whipped a travel worn old staff from under the table and, channelling magic, flung what at first seemed a bolt of flame at the red-cloak. With an effortless leap, the half-elf took the table. As the flame sailed, its shape become more defined until a flaming monkey collided with Red. Lashing with impish fury, it cavorted around the big man’s head and shoulders, setting fire to his hair and cape.
Tamarin’s player was quite delighted at the idea of being able to Summon elemental animals. A Fire templated Monkey fit right in to the range of Summon Monster I, and so Tamarin’s Imp Ape was born.
The description given to deliver cast this spell was “Ah ah oo oo ee!”. The throwing component was Tamarin “placing” the spell’s range (30’).
As the two crews joined in battle, Red’s men armed with short blades, Asif’s only their fists, Jornan tackled one of them, fists flailing, he managed only to ward back his enemy. Meanwhile, Asif dropped into a low crouch and aimed a vicious belly-punch at one of the enemy pirates.
Charging down the table, Tamarin slid the staff into an extended reach and, with nimble ease, laid about one of the enemy’s head.
Red attempted to put himself out, but failed. The fire monkey, with a final impish laugh, winked out of existence, though the hot fires it had set remained.
Weighing his chances, Jornan balled his fists together and, with a double-handed smash, knocked one of Red’s sailors to the ground.
With an acrobatic flip, Tamarin leapt from the table, quarterstaff spinning, cracking the ribs of two of Red’s crew.
Tamarin’s skills and focus was built with the idea of being a swash-buckling, pretty pirate. With ranks in Jump, Climb, Swim and Tumble, Tamarin can get about a bit. My partner really showed off with this, Jumping and Tumbling and being an all-around Ninja. Er, Pirate.
Oh, when someone gives a bit of a flashy description, I award a +2 Circumstance bonus to whatever it is they are doing.
Red, having finally managed to put out the fires that had consumed all of his hair and much of his treasured red cape, called his men into a retreat. “Mark my words Asif!” He screamed “I’ll see my blade in your belly!”
Asif stopped to offer a prayer to the One, healing one of his men who had fallen in the battle, as Jornan manipulated the rune-work to the same effect. Asif, looked at the pair with respect, thanking them for their efforts. He looked to the rest of his crew, battered but triumphant. “I will leave you fine souls for the night. The Blessed Wind of the One sails at first light!”
*
The voyage was swift and uneventful. Asif picked Tamarin, Jornan and two other crew men to join him in the dinghy – Jornan and one of the crewmen taking the oars. When they reached shore, all five leapt from the boat and pulled it to shore.
Asif pulled a map from his belt, which the keen-eyed Tamarin noticed was not the same as the chart Asif had shown the crew in the taverna. Asif looked from the map and up to the stretch of land, no more than five miles across.
“Hmm. It must have been larger before.” Muttered the Moorish captain, stuffing the belt back into his belt. He strode up the sandy beach, his boots crunching the sand. Tamarin produced a long knife to deal with the heavy foliage, a gun in his other hand. The others produced similar hacking instruments, and started into the jungle.
Jornan noted quickly that everyone seemed to be being drawn off in separate directions. Before he could call a warning, only Tamarin remained in sight. Jornan hurried after the slight Han, who had not seemed to have noticed the strange effect of the forest.
I had everyone roll Survival to stay on track. I had forgotten that no-one had any ranks in it Oops. Luckily, Jornan is a rather sagacious chap, with a +3 Wisdom bonus, so with his Druidy powers, he kept he and Tamarin on the straight and narrow. Mostly.
As he walked, Jornan reached out with the senses of the Forseti, to feel the working of the Runes upon this isle. He nodded to himself, feeling the subtle weave of the Runework here. Someone had manipulated the Word Law of this place, to confound the senses. He was lucky that his training had prepared him for such things.
Spellcraft Check. Jornan is a magic-fiend – the only other skill he has better is Profession (Cook). This session was characterised by Jornan acing all the skill checks, whilst Tamarin bit the snot out of anything with a stick. Well, mostly.
A ripple in the flow of the magic of the island caught his attention. There, a presence, stalking them in the shadows. Jornan called a warning to his comrade, to be ready.
With lightning quickness, Tamarin’s blade and pistol were at the ready, sharp eyes scanning the woods. A shadow moved amongst the trees, uncertain now it had been seen. Tamarin’s keen elven eyes detected the sleek form of a jungle cat. Not wishing to harm the proud hunter, the ranger knelt down and, with soft murmurs and out-stretched hands, bid the feline leave. The great cat looked upon the man and the half-elf, and turned back into the forest.
Tamarin is a super-pretty half-Elf ranger, and rolled really well on this Wild Empathy check. Jornan had been grumbling a bit that I forgot to stat up his familiar and animal companion, so I ear-marked the Hunter as a potential pet.
Yes, Jornan’s player is a lazy, lazy swine. He’ll get his though.
The Runework, for those who are curious, is the Norskar interpretation of how magic works. It is, literally, the words that Wotan, chief god of the Norskar, set down onto the world to give it less hostile form. The mythologies I cooked up, in my opinion, are very cool and one of the things I am proudest of in the Swashbuckler setting.
Are the Norskar right? Hell if I know.
The Hunter seemingly allayed, the two found their path no longer disturbed by the cunning, subtle magic of the place, and in short order, they emerged into a clearing, dominated by a house sized stepped pyramid at the centre. Across the clearing, emerged Asif and then, to his left, a bedraggled looking crewman. Of their fifth member, there was no sign.
The four walked up to the stone structure, Tamarin holding back, the structure causing unease for the half-elf. The pyramid was perhaps a little over fifteen feet high, maybe twenty feet a side, built of hewn blocks of grey stone. Inspection revealed an inset impression in the shape of a doorway, with the carved likeness of a slight face, framed by a halo. The entire structure had been weathered by the elements and tropical rains of the Chain.
Whilst the others puzzled over the front door, Jornan climbed to the top of the structure, reaching the top-most step. Upon it was a strange crystal podium, a half-oblong, that seemed to catch the light in some strange way, rendering it invisible from below, but glowing with an inner light from here. Upon the surface were ten lines, slightly longer than the fingers of a man’s hand. Jornan placed his hands upon the stone. Beyond a slight sensation of warmth against his skin, nothing happened.
There was a moment of fumbling here as I called for Climb checks, then realised how pointless and stupid it was. God, I love Take 10, and I wish to introduce it to the parents, propose, get stood up at the altar, and become a burned out drunk over it.
Jornan called the others up to examine the pedestal. Tamarin reluctantly touched the warm stone, and there was a rumble and the noise of splitting stone. Rushing down the pyramid, the expedition found that the engraved indention on the East facing wall had disappeared, and the way into the building was now open.
Asif, Jornan and the crewman stepped inside, whilst Tamarin kept watch outside the door with pistols at the ready. The chamber was in was lit, dimly, by the sun flooding in from the open door, revealing the interior walls and ceiling had a strange, wave like surface. In the centre was another pedestal and atop it, something atop it glittering in the sunlight.
The object was a key, with a smooth, oblong bow and a notched, spiralled blade. Asif picked up the artefact, placing it into his belt-pouch, whilst Jornan examined the pedestal. Thinking perhaps it led to further treasures within the temple, Jornan called to Tamarin to come in and attempt to work the pedestal. Reluctantly, the half-elf stepped into the shadowed space.
As soon as Tamarin was fully within the pyramid, the chamber reacted. The waves upon the walls began to surge and churn and, to Tamarin’s eye, form coherent patterns from which words and meaning emerged, but only half-understood. For the human occupants of the chamber, there was but a single command: Stand.
Tamarin’s player had not liked the pyramid from the first moment of seeing it. Not one bit. Tamarin avoided coming into contact with it, thought that opening it would release one of Moses’ plagues, didn’t want to step inside and, when the walls came alive, shot Jornan’s player an “I told you so” look. It was great. I did consider Zombies, but not right now. It seemed petty.
The spell on Jornan, Asif and the crewman was an Extended Command type effect. They’d basically have hung around until some elves came poking around to see what had happened. In the Chain of Tears, this is universally agreed as a Bad Thing by anyone who is not an Elf.
Except for Jornan’s player, of course. His estimation of the situation? “We need to come back here with a proper elf, to see what happens.” I don’t know, you go to the effort of crafting a culture of rightfully feared xenophobes with a navy made of ships that whole fleets fear, that the only notable victory by humans had been by a ship loaded to the gills with cannon, and he wants to go grab one off of a corner!
Can you imagine the scene? “’Scuse me mate, I was defiling one of your Temples the other day and I thought “Corr, I bet I could get so much more stuff if I had one of you pointy-eared fellows along with me, to open the doors and whatno”t. So, spare a guy about t’ree fi’ty?” I’m sure it would just go down splendidly in Elftown.
Damn, but Jornan will get his!
Tamarin’s elf blood seemed to offer protection from the magic of the place, though it did not impart understanding of the mystical gibberish that rose to a tidal roar, before silencing abruptly. Tamarin was certain of one thing: the final message of the chamber had been an alarm, sent outward. With speed born of terror, the young Han pulled and shoved the three ensorcelled humans from the room.
Out in the sunshine, the spell upon Jornan and the others seemed to break and, at Tamarin’s urgent instruction, set off through the forest as rapidly as they could. Jornan focused on the Runework, shoving aside the thinning magic so that the enchantment could not stay their path. In a trice they found themselves looking out upon the shore. Their jubilation was, however, short lived.
Looking somewhat the worse for wear, what with the burns ill-healed across his face and shoulders, though with a new red cape, was Red, his heavy axe resting easy in one hand. Flanking him were six of his crew, blades in hands.
“Asif, ya dog, I’ve come for whatever treasure ya found on the isle. I’ll be happy to take yer hides as well, if ya don’t drop yer weapons.” The Norskar leered at the explorers, one finger running along the edge of his axe.
“Try to come and take it from us, you red-faced buffoon.” Called Tamarin, hand’s already straying to pistols.
“Hides it is.” Growled Red as he and his men tensed to spring into action.
“I’ll be happy to give you another hair-cut.” Tamarin smiled and, bringing both pistols up, fired thick gouts of flame into the faces of Red and his crew.
I might have mentioned above that one of the things I wanted to see with Swashbuckler was the kind of ridiculous and cool stuff that you see in proper Swashbucklery films? Well, this is one of them. Tamarin can use the pistols to activate Burning Hands. Tamarin has very little control over the sorceries inherent to a sorcerer, so having foci helps. The stick helps with concentration, the guns with the BOOM! Unfortunately, Tamarin has less luck using the guns as they were intended, due to stunningly bad die rolls.
The ensuing battle was thick and furious, with Asif attempting to battle Red with his great scimitar, but being laid low swiftly, and the other crewman holding off one of Red’s lot desperately. Jornan summoned crows made of crackling lightning and sparks, and called the multi-legged denizens of the deep up from the shore, and a shout of aid calling the Hunter of the Isle to his side when he fell. Tamarin deserted pistols in favour of the staff, a gift of the half elf’s father, laying about swift and precise blows.
Poor Asif. He tried Bull-rushing Red, and ended up being taken out after casting Cure Light Wounds on himself. Later on, Asif dropped into more of a support role – which is good, as I want the PCs in the front seat, even if Asif is the Cap’n.
Jornan’s wizardy bits focus on Air Magic, so the Lightning Hawks were a must. They’re just standard Hawks with the Air template stuck on them, brought through by Summon Monster I. With Jornan’s Augment Summoning feat, they’re pretty nasty, as they can fly by quicker than you can blink, peck out your eyes, and dissipate back into the Runework before you can blink!
The Hunter of the Isle is Jornan’s animal companion. At the time, I gave it 2d8 hit points, +3 to hit and 1d6+3 damage, but with the proviso that it is a leopard, so it gets whatever a leopard gets when I get around to looking up the stats.
And I told you Tamarin would kick Red’s behind.
In the end, only Tamarin was left standing. The storm hawk crackled and dissipated, and the octopus lurched back into the sea, though the Hunter remained. Weary from wounds, but better off than the bloodied and battered remnants of Red and his men, Tamarin pulled Asif, Jornan and the creman – Tamarin thought it might be good to learn the man’s name at some point – onto the dinghy. The Hunter sprung onto the boat, settled next to Jornan, and promptly fell asleep.
“I’ll row then shall I?” Muttered Tamarin. It was hard going, rowing a loaded boat alone, but somehow the half-elf managed to get the vessel back to the Blessed Wind. The First mate called down from the deck as the boat was raised, but Tamarin’s attention was elsewhere.
Upon the horizon, coming into view and approaching with the speed of mystic winds, could be spied the green sails of an elf ship.
And this is where we left the first session. I had absolutely no notes for this (as we’d cancelled an Eberron game and I offered to run a quick Swashbuckler game instead), but everyone had a colossally good time. With that in mind, I offered to do Swashbuckler as the long running game, with only a tidge of prep. Damn, but it’s hard. I love me them train-tracks!
We, as a group, have the attention span of a group of golden lion tamarinds who have gotten into the ribena stores.
Some rules related stuff that we implemented in this. In addition to the little bits like narrative bonuses (or “Stunts”), and alternate foci (Jornan should really be throwing about runes or something), the game used Class Defence Bonuses and Armour as Damage Reduction from Unearthed Arcana, and Hero Points similar to what you get in Mutants and Masterminds 2nd.
After this, I decided to work out my own progression for Defence, as everyone – even the little mook-y people – were damned hard to hit. This was implanted in the next game, and I’ll go into a bit more detail on it in that write up.
I’m going with free-form experience, so the PCs will level up when I damn well let them! Or rather, when I feel that they have made suitable progression.
In the spirit of Speak Like a Pirate Day, this here old salt has opted to make his inaugaral post one detailing the exploits of his crew o' scallawags an' ne'er-do-wells. Though ye may have read it elsewhere on th' high seas, I assure you, tis much easier on the eyes here, what with the black background and white text. An', ye know, what good are the deeds o' a true pirate, if'n ye can't brag in e'ery port ye come across?
So, wi'out further preamble...
Session 1: Set sail for adventure, treasure and flaming monkeys!
Able hands and worthy salts had been called to a taverna in Amuel, the former Moorish settlement turned pirate cove. The man doing the calling? Captain Asif, lately of the Moorish navy. A sea dog, an able captain, a man of faith and a privateer for his people, he’d also garnered quite the reputation for being a treasure hunter. Many were those who’d taken ship with him and come back rich for it.
Asif, the brave captain of the ship, looks like Morgan Freeman from Robin Hood, except with an eye-patch and no head hair. He’s a Fighter/Unist Cleric, following the Ibrahimic tradition. Everyone likes Asif – I’m glad of this, as he’s the only NPC I can remember at any given time, In retrospect, this may be why they like him.
Two of the sea-dogs who’d taken up the call set out by Captain Asif were Tamarin and Jornan. Tamarin was Han born, though mixed with the blood of elves. A passable sailor at best, it was the skill at guns and fighting that made Tamarin worth the passage, as the whole crew would soon see. Jornan was a rune worker of the Norskar, a massive, bear-like man of dark eye and knowing countenance. He called the very airs of the storm to abide by his business. It just so happened he was also one hell of a cook, and it was under that aegis he’d often get himself aboard, disdaining to manipulate the rune-work unless necessary. It is this pair of rogues that our story will follow.
Our heroes. You’ll notice, as the write-up progresses, that the characters don’t really seem to speak much. That’d be because the players didn’t say much in character – they were still getting used to everything, and Jornan’s player is quiet as a mouse anyway.
Tamarin is a Han half-elven Ranger/Sorcerer, with a focus on Fire spells. Tamarin wields a quarterstaff and twin pistols. The staff also helps Tamarin focus on spell-casting, and has history. Tamarin is played by my partner, and it is largely at her insistence that we’re playing Swashbuckler. It was that, Eberron, or a fate worse than death!
Jornan, a Nosrkar Druid/Conjurer, is summoning mad! Spell Focus (Conjuration), Augment Summoning and Combat Casting. Played by my best friend, I think the idea is, at some point, to use Summon Monster IX to conjure up some sort of Storm Squid, which is patently ridiculous and also exactly what we like to see. Arcane Hierophant from Races of the Wild brings tears to the boy’s eyes.
Upon the table, under hand, Asif had a weathered parchment, stained by sea and perhaps little blood. Up until now, he’d been shielding it with one of his scarred hands. Now, as he cast his one jet-black eye about his newly gained crew, he unrolled the parchment, revealing a weathered and battered map of the Chain of Tears. With one callused figure, he pointed to an island just of the coast of the Peninsula of Dread.
“This, with the One’s blessing, is where we shall sail. Upon this isle, there are buried riches of the Elves. Any who would not risk the wrath of the heathen empire may walk from this place, and no word shall be cast against his name,” Asif had already called only those whom he knew would not be spooked by risk of elven marines – dire as the risk might be. Not a man moved. “Good.” He smiled, his teeth white against the dark skin of his sun-beaten face. “Then we set sale at-“
“Asif, ya thievin’ (Dog)!” The door to the taverna burst open, and a massive man, likely of Norskar blood – though probably some other black sludge might have likely been found floating through those veins - and brandishing a heavy looking war axe stepped through. He wore a blood red cape, much like the legendary ‘Red’ Craben. “Ye’ve stolen something from me and I mean to have it back!” Behind him streamed in a gang of ill-fated looking scallawags, rough sorts who’d be just as happy to see red as gold.
Red and Family will be turning up a bit. Keep out an eye and all that. Red is a Fighter/Barbarian, wielding a war axe two-handed. Red is slightly more memorable than Asif, but only because he’s just a bit pants really. Tamarin will kick his arse.
“Red” Asif rose as he spoke, waving one arm in welcome as the other nonchalantly placed the map into a pouch. “It is hardly becoming of a man to decry the will of the One, particularly when it comes to bad hand of cards.” He looked over one shoulder. “Considers myself your captain. To my side!” The rogues around the table eagerly surged to their feat.
Tamarin, fire quick, whipped a travel worn old staff from under the table and, channelling magic, flung what at first seemed a bolt of flame at the red-cloak. With an effortless leap, the half-elf took the table. As the flame sailed, its shape become more defined until a flaming monkey collided with Red. Lashing with impish fury, it cavorted around the big man’s head and shoulders, setting fire to his hair and cape.
Tamarin’s player was quite delighted at the idea of being able to Summon elemental animals. A Fire templated Monkey fit right in to the range of Summon Monster I, and so Tamarin’s Imp Ape was born.
The description given to deliver cast this spell was “Ah ah oo oo ee!”. The throwing component was Tamarin “placing” the spell’s range (30’).
As the two crews joined in battle, Red’s men armed with short blades, Asif’s only their fists, Jornan tackled one of them, fists flailing, he managed only to ward back his enemy. Meanwhile, Asif dropped into a low crouch and aimed a vicious belly-punch at one of the enemy pirates.
Charging down the table, Tamarin slid the staff into an extended reach and, with nimble ease, laid about one of the enemy’s head.
Red attempted to put himself out, but failed. The fire monkey, with a final impish laugh, winked out of existence, though the hot fires it had set remained.
Weighing his chances, Jornan balled his fists together and, with a double-handed smash, knocked one of Red’s sailors to the ground.
With an acrobatic flip, Tamarin leapt from the table, quarterstaff spinning, cracking the ribs of two of Red’s crew.
Tamarin’s skills and focus was built with the idea of being a swash-buckling, pretty pirate. With ranks in Jump, Climb, Swim and Tumble, Tamarin can get about a bit. My partner really showed off with this, Jumping and Tumbling and being an all-around Ninja. Er, Pirate.
Oh, when someone gives a bit of a flashy description, I award a +2 Circumstance bonus to whatever it is they are doing.
Red, having finally managed to put out the fires that had consumed all of his hair and much of his treasured red cape, called his men into a retreat. “Mark my words Asif!” He screamed “I’ll see my blade in your belly!”
Asif stopped to offer a prayer to the One, healing one of his men who had fallen in the battle, as Jornan manipulated the rune-work to the same effect. Asif, looked at the pair with respect, thanking them for their efforts. He looked to the rest of his crew, battered but triumphant. “I will leave you fine souls for the night. The Blessed Wind of the One sails at first light!”
*
The voyage was swift and uneventful. Asif picked Tamarin, Jornan and two other crew men to join him in the dinghy – Jornan and one of the crewmen taking the oars. When they reached shore, all five leapt from the boat and pulled it to shore.
Asif pulled a map from his belt, which the keen-eyed Tamarin noticed was not the same as the chart Asif had shown the crew in the taverna. Asif looked from the map and up to the stretch of land, no more than five miles across.
“Hmm. It must have been larger before.” Muttered the Moorish captain, stuffing the belt back into his belt. He strode up the sandy beach, his boots crunching the sand. Tamarin produced a long knife to deal with the heavy foliage, a gun in his other hand. The others produced similar hacking instruments, and started into the jungle.
Jornan noted quickly that everyone seemed to be being drawn off in separate directions. Before he could call a warning, only Tamarin remained in sight. Jornan hurried after the slight Han, who had not seemed to have noticed the strange effect of the forest.
I had everyone roll Survival to stay on track. I had forgotten that no-one had any ranks in it Oops. Luckily, Jornan is a rather sagacious chap, with a +3 Wisdom bonus, so with his Druidy powers, he kept he and Tamarin on the straight and narrow. Mostly.
As he walked, Jornan reached out with the senses of the Forseti, to feel the working of the Runes upon this isle. He nodded to himself, feeling the subtle weave of the Runework here. Someone had manipulated the Word Law of this place, to confound the senses. He was lucky that his training had prepared him for such things.
Spellcraft Check. Jornan is a magic-fiend – the only other skill he has better is Profession (Cook). This session was characterised by Jornan acing all the skill checks, whilst Tamarin bit the snot out of anything with a stick. Well, mostly.
A ripple in the flow of the magic of the island caught his attention. There, a presence, stalking them in the shadows. Jornan called a warning to his comrade, to be ready.
With lightning quickness, Tamarin’s blade and pistol were at the ready, sharp eyes scanning the woods. A shadow moved amongst the trees, uncertain now it had been seen. Tamarin’s keen elven eyes detected the sleek form of a jungle cat. Not wishing to harm the proud hunter, the ranger knelt down and, with soft murmurs and out-stretched hands, bid the feline leave. The great cat looked upon the man and the half-elf, and turned back into the forest.
Tamarin is a super-pretty half-Elf ranger, and rolled really well on this Wild Empathy check. Jornan had been grumbling a bit that I forgot to stat up his familiar and animal companion, so I ear-marked the Hunter as a potential pet.
Yes, Jornan’s player is a lazy, lazy swine. He’ll get his though.
The Runework, for those who are curious, is the Norskar interpretation of how magic works. It is, literally, the words that Wotan, chief god of the Norskar, set down onto the world to give it less hostile form. The mythologies I cooked up, in my opinion, are very cool and one of the things I am proudest of in the Swashbuckler setting.
Are the Norskar right? Hell if I know.
The Hunter seemingly allayed, the two found their path no longer disturbed by the cunning, subtle magic of the place, and in short order, they emerged into a clearing, dominated by a house sized stepped pyramid at the centre. Across the clearing, emerged Asif and then, to his left, a bedraggled looking crewman. Of their fifth member, there was no sign.
The four walked up to the stone structure, Tamarin holding back, the structure causing unease for the half-elf. The pyramid was perhaps a little over fifteen feet high, maybe twenty feet a side, built of hewn blocks of grey stone. Inspection revealed an inset impression in the shape of a doorway, with the carved likeness of a slight face, framed by a halo. The entire structure had been weathered by the elements and tropical rains of the Chain.
Whilst the others puzzled over the front door, Jornan climbed to the top of the structure, reaching the top-most step. Upon it was a strange crystal podium, a half-oblong, that seemed to catch the light in some strange way, rendering it invisible from below, but glowing with an inner light from here. Upon the surface were ten lines, slightly longer than the fingers of a man’s hand. Jornan placed his hands upon the stone. Beyond a slight sensation of warmth against his skin, nothing happened.
There was a moment of fumbling here as I called for Climb checks, then realised how pointless and stupid it was. God, I love Take 10, and I wish to introduce it to the parents, propose, get stood up at the altar, and become a burned out drunk over it.
Jornan called the others up to examine the pedestal. Tamarin reluctantly touched the warm stone, and there was a rumble and the noise of splitting stone. Rushing down the pyramid, the expedition found that the engraved indention on the East facing wall had disappeared, and the way into the building was now open.
Asif, Jornan and the crewman stepped inside, whilst Tamarin kept watch outside the door with pistols at the ready. The chamber was in was lit, dimly, by the sun flooding in from the open door, revealing the interior walls and ceiling had a strange, wave like surface. In the centre was another pedestal and atop it, something atop it glittering in the sunlight.
The object was a key, with a smooth, oblong bow and a notched, spiralled blade. Asif picked up the artefact, placing it into his belt-pouch, whilst Jornan examined the pedestal. Thinking perhaps it led to further treasures within the temple, Jornan called to Tamarin to come in and attempt to work the pedestal. Reluctantly, the half-elf stepped into the shadowed space.
As soon as Tamarin was fully within the pyramid, the chamber reacted. The waves upon the walls began to surge and churn and, to Tamarin’s eye, form coherent patterns from which words and meaning emerged, but only half-understood. For the human occupants of the chamber, there was but a single command: Stand.
Tamarin’s player had not liked the pyramid from the first moment of seeing it. Not one bit. Tamarin avoided coming into contact with it, thought that opening it would release one of Moses’ plagues, didn’t want to step inside and, when the walls came alive, shot Jornan’s player an “I told you so” look. It was great. I did consider Zombies, but not right now. It seemed petty.
The spell on Jornan, Asif and the crewman was an Extended Command type effect. They’d basically have hung around until some elves came poking around to see what had happened. In the Chain of Tears, this is universally agreed as a Bad Thing by anyone who is not an Elf.
Except for Jornan’s player, of course. His estimation of the situation? “We need to come back here with a proper elf, to see what happens.” I don’t know, you go to the effort of crafting a culture of rightfully feared xenophobes with a navy made of ships that whole fleets fear, that the only notable victory by humans had been by a ship loaded to the gills with cannon, and he wants to go grab one off of a corner!
Can you imagine the scene? “’Scuse me mate, I was defiling one of your Temples the other day and I thought “Corr, I bet I could get so much more stuff if I had one of you pointy-eared fellows along with me, to open the doors and whatno”t. So, spare a guy about t’ree fi’ty?” I’m sure it would just go down splendidly in Elftown.
Damn, but Jornan will get his!
Tamarin’s elf blood seemed to offer protection from the magic of the place, though it did not impart understanding of the mystical gibberish that rose to a tidal roar, before silencing abruptly. Tamarin was certain of one thing: the final message of the chamber had been an alarm, sent outward. With speed born of terror, the young Han pulled and shoved the three ensorcelled humans from the room.
Out in the sunshine, the spell upon Jornan and the others seemed to break and, at Tamarin’s urgent instruction, set off through the forest as rapidly as they could. Jornan focused on the Runework, shoving aside the thinning magic so that the enchantment could not stay their path. In a trice they found themselves looking out upon the shore. Their jubilation was, however, short lived.
Looking somewhat the worse for wear, what with the burns ill-healed across his face and shoulders, though with a new red cape, was Red, his heavy axe resting easy in one hand. Flanking him were six of his crew, blades in hands.
“Asif, ya dog, I’ve come for whatever treasure ya found on the isle. I’ll be happy to take yer hides as well, if ya don’t drop yer weapons.” The Norskar leered at the explorers, one finger running along the edge of his axe.
“Try to come and take it from us, you red-faced buffoon.” Called Tamarin, hand’s already straying to pistols.
“Hides it is.” Growled Red as he and his men tensed to spring into action.
“I’ll be happy to give you another hair-cut.” Tamarin smiled and, bringing both pistols up, fired thick gouts of flame into the faces of Red and his crew.
I might have mentioned above that one of the things I wanted to see with Swashbuckler was the kind of ridiculous and cool stuff that you see in proper Swashbucklery films? Well, this is one of them. Tamarin can use the pistols to activate Burning Hands. Tamarin has very little control over the sorceries inherent to a sorcerer, so having foci helps. The stick helps with concentration, the guns with the BOOM! Unfortunately, Tamarin has less luck using the guns as they were intended, due to stunningly bad die rolls.
The ensuing battle was thick and furious, with Asif attempting to battle Red with his great scimitar, but being laid low swiftly, and the other crewman holding off one of Red’s lot desperately. Jornan summoned crows made of crackling lightning and sparks, and called the multi-legged denizens of the deep up from the shore, and a shout of aid calling the Hunter of the Isle to his side when he fell. Tamarin deserted pistols in favour of the staff, a gift of the half elf’s father, laying about swift and precise blows.
Poor Asif. He tried Bull-rushing Red, and ended up being taken out after casting Cure Light Wounds on himself. Later on, Asif dropped into more of a support role – which is good, as I want the PCs in the front seat, even if Asif is the Cap’n.
Jornan’s wizardy bits focus on Air Magic, so the Lightning Hawks were a must. They’re just standard Hawks with the Air template stuck on them, brought through by Summon Monster I. With Jornan’s Augment Summoning feat, they’re pretty nasty, as they can fly by quicker than you can blink, peck out your eyes, and dissipate back into the Runework before you can blink!
The Hunter of the Isle is Jornan’s animal companion. At the time, I gave it 2d8 hit points, +3 to hit and 1d6+3 damage, but with the proviso that it is a leopard, so it gets whatever a leopard gets when I get around to looking up the stats.
And I told you Tamarin would kick Red’s behind.
In the end, only Tamarin was left standing. The storm hawk crackled and dissipated, and the octopus lurched back into the sea, though the Hunter remained. Weary from wounds, but better off than the bloodied and battered remnants of Red and his men, Tamarin pulled Asif, Jornan and the creman – Tamarin thought it might be good to learn the man’s name at some point – onto the dinghy. The Hunter sprung onto the boat, settled next to Jornan, and promptly fell asleep.
“I’ll row then shall I?” Muttered Tamarin. It was hard going, rowing a loaded boat alone, but somehow the half-elf managed to get the vessel back to the Blessed Wind. The First mate called down from the deck as the boat was raised, but Tamarin’s attention was elsewhere.
Upon the horizon, coming into view and approaching with the speed of mystic winds, could be spied the green sails of an elf ship.
And this is where we left the first session. I had absolutely no notes for this (as we’d cancelled an Eberron game and I offered to run a quick Swashbuckler game instead), but everyone had a colossally good time. With that in mind, I offered to do Swashbuckler as the long running game, with only a tidge of prep. Damn, but it’s hard. I love me them train-tracks!
We, as a group, have the attention span of a group of golden lion tamarinds who have gotten into the ribena stores.
Some rules related stuff that we implemented in this. In addition to the little bits like narrative bonuses (or “Stunts”), and alternate foci (Jornan should really be throwing about runes or something), the game used Class Defence Bonuses and Armour as Damage Reduction from Unearthed Arcana, and Hero Points similar to what you get in Mutants and Masterminds 2nd.
After this, I decided to work out my own progression for Defence, as everyone – even the little mook-y people – were damned hard to hit. This was implanted in the next game, and I’ll go into a bit more detail on it in that write up.
I’m going with free-form experience, so the PCs will level up when I damn well let them! Or rather, when I feel that they have made suitable progression.