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I ran my first Epic session last Sunday
- Thread starter pemerton
- Start date
Pour
First Post
@pemerton , Up until about level 22, I was keeping close track of XP and leveling the party accordingly. However, now that we're in mid-Epic and the end is in sight (I've set an end date for late August), I've forgone experience points. I've decided to base leveling on achievement, and level 26 awaits those survivors who overcome the Siege (if there are any).
Loosely mapping it out, the party has determined there are, roughly, about five major objectives left to see Creation endure. Despite a few twists, kinks, and betrayals I plan to throw in, it'll work out nicely to level 30. Truth be told, I've crammed enough into the Siege that if I did tally it all out I bet they would properly level by the end.
I think my only challenge will be actually wrapping it all up by the end of summer. I tend to elaborate and work off of what players do, and inject all kinds of additional material, strange diversions, and extended politics, and if I'm actually going to conclude the campaign in a satisfying and well-paced way, I'll have curb some of that.
Loosely mapping it out, the party has determined there are, roughly, about five major objectives left to see Creation endure. Despite a few twists, kinks, and betrayals I plan to throw in, it'll work out nicely to level 30. Truth be told, I've crammed enough into the Siege that if I did tally it all out I bet they would properly level by the end.
I think my only challenge will be actually wrapping it all up by the end of summer. I tend to elaborate and work off of what players do, and inject all kinds of additional material, strange diversions, and extended politics, and if I'm actually going to conclude the campaign in a satisfying and well-paced way, I'll have curb some of that.
Pour
First Post
[I should preface that my party and I play online, a combination of Maptool and mIRC for roleplaying. It is very helpful, especially in combats, tracking conditions, damage, and even just the names of NPCs and enemies. I can have more fun, especially with naming and characterizing monsters, which would otherwise be nondescript tokens on a tabletop.]
The party continued their trials in the Purgatory Siege...
While the party continued researching both the sphere-summoning ritual and information on the brutal pantheon and cowed worlds of the preceding Creation, the seminary imps returned with a vengeance. They came with fourteen unnerving, completely soundless beings of dense shadowstuff standing around ten feet, wearing over-sized and decomposing ram's heads like full-helms, with names such as 'Without Eyes', "Anti-Librarian', 'Slaughterer of the Learned', and 'Mindlock'. They had a modified phasing ability, able to move freely through the walls of the Siege (but not through PCs or their summoned/created obstructions). They also each had a unique mechanic that, should they be the last abomination standing, a battlefield-wide effect would result. For instance, had Anti-Librarian been the last standing, all the party's ritual books would be destroyed. If Without Eyes was the last, all the party would be permanently blinded until a proper Remove Affliction could be cast. Slaughterer of the Learned would have forced every PC to roll a save for each Intelligence modifier or incur 1 point of necropotence. And so on...
The party identified these beings as undead demons of Orcus converted to the cause of the Exgod. Previously in the campaign, undeath had been a fate reserved for mortals, but now it seemed angels, devils, and demons were also susceptible. Furthermore, the Exgod had cured his creations of all radiant vulnerability, so the light edge many of the PC's considered themselves having in future fights vanished. This also implied that Orcus, previously suspected to be an ally of the Exgod, may in fact be an enemy of their enemy.
I used a portion of 0one's Citadel map for the seminary with a few modifications to represent the statue of Orcus' sister-lover Anat, the lectern which had held the Necronomicon, etc. I absolutely love their maps, and some of the players mentioned getting an old school vibe they inspire (we'd previously used realistic maps such as LordZseze, but there simply aren't enough out there to represent the places my party treads, nor do I have the patience to make new ones in Photoshop like I once did). The map provided a main seminary level (if you recall with a floor of chipped glass several dozen feet thick, below which was a lake of boiling blood and tormented souls). There was also the balcony level which held the lectern and, beyond, hallways and chambers beyond sight which the imps originally fled down last session. There were also several ancillary chambers, like the one with the succubus/marilith mural and a separate room with the confessional (once housing the mysterious and not altogether unfriendly Confessor of Orcus).
The combat was dynamic, and I say that because objectives kind of evolved between rounds and everyone was busy and thinking throughout. Initially, the party was all about combating the abominations [re-skinned Forsaken Slaughterers, standard level 28 brutes with extremely reduced hp to prevent grind]. They had auras which halved healing, a bloodied trigger which inflicted a healing surge worth of damage, and their attacks did enough on their own [6d8+18] to concern the party if cornered. PCs were able to shine using forced movement, smart positioning, healing, and big damage.
On the second round, the fight started to lean the party's way, thanks in part to a house rule we've had a LOT of fun with, called collision damage. Basically, if a PC has a power that pushes, pulls, or slides an enemy into something without give (a wall for instance) and they have squares remaining in the push, they can convert them to d10's in damage, not unlike a fall. In this way, controllers get some beef in the damage department, and it's just fun. Despite being potent, it's never spoiled anything in my games, rather its empowered our PC movers. And if I feel adequate damage has been dealt, the obstruction might break.
We also use something similar when we decide where enemies end up if they're pushed into each other. If there are any remaining squares of a forced movement, you can spend 1 on each enemy in contact, then whatever's left over to move them. For instance, if a power was used with Push 5, and the PC spent 2 moving one enemy into another, he could spend 2 more to target them both, then his remaining 1 square to push them both 1. It's worked out nicely in the past tiers, and continues to in Epic.
Some of the PCs shifted focus to chasing down the four imps going separate directions so they couldn't inform anything or anyone else. I also introduced the Lord of Ignorance, a huge-sized ram's head abomination that startled the nearest PCs. Our warlock immediately reacted, dropping Web of something or other which kept it rooted and dealt a solid 112 psychic damage. It was enough to trigger the Lord's bloodied effect, and if not for the Archdruid's sacred earth zone (part of a homebrew story-based prestige class element I designed for my game called a 'mantle') everyone on the battlefield (I define this in my game as on the map), instead of only 2, would have suffered losing a fourth of their hp.
I experimented here with a mini-boss whose triggers and attacks could potentially effect the entire battlefield, and its auras stretched to within line of effect. In my estimation, the Lord of Ignorance was a complete success. I'd gotten the controllers' attentions, and they used what they had to great effect mitigating what the Lord might have done. It upped the ante, added another facet to the combat, threatening but not so big a bomb all their previous work was undone, or they were so outmatched they simply had to flee. It worked particularly well as a second round introduction, too.
On the third round, Tomeburn was the last abomination standing, triggering an effect which basically dropped a huge fireball down in the main seminary chamber. It injured a few PCs, nothing very serious, but the real price paid was in the seminary library, which was utterly destroyed in moments. Whatever treasures, lore, and rumors that might have been gained were now lost. The party, after learning some of the other effects of the other abominations, were grateful, but mostly in their ignorance (irony) of what they didn't realize they lost.
Later in the round, the Lord of Ignorance was blinded and slowed, and the druid was preparing to stake it to the wall with a well-placed oak skewer. He'd also... healed. The party feared regeneration, but the secret to his renewal (and the opportunity to trigger multiple healing surge damages across the battlefield) wasn't so arbitrary. Though the party never discerned it, whenever one of the smaller abominations died, it evaporated and fed the mini-boss. There were further clues, also, when one of them died by massive ice damage and became trapped and didn't heal the big guy. Neither here nor there, but I thought it was cool that there was an explanation and a synergy.
The party's angel tried to recognize with a self-initiated History check (which I thought clever) the identity of the Lord of Ignorance. Given her vast lifetime, it seemed a fair approach. She'd no doubt use the information to play at a weakness of ego or physiology. But instead she recognized there were several souls trapped within the amalgam, two angels she once knew, two demons, and a mortal soul- the late father and former vampire king of the party warlock. Appealing in a very, very creative way to each of them (and their times together, be it battles, arguments, or shared vision) she freed the angels and demons as the Lord receded behind a wall, ultimately reducing the Lord to his remaining soul out of sight.
Things were just about coming to a close, when the NPC companion of the druid, seeking to put out all the fires and save some scraps by expanding his aura with a Nature check, crit. In my games, natural 20s are sometimes more scary than natural 1's, only because I play a natural 20 as something being overly successful, and depending on the nature of the task delving too deep or pushing too far. The NPC extinguished everything with a blast of cold, but I wasn't so rat bastard that I had it damage the party, rather it soothed burns and created a gentle snowfall. Given that the room was, moments ago, super-heated and ablaze, the glass floor developed a crack from the drastic temperature change. The crack veined and expanded rapidly, releasing super-heated air from below. That lake of boiling blood would soon open wide to welcome the party, which in and of itself wasn't so frightening to a group that could almost all fly, but which promised unknown complications involving heat and anything lurking down there (forsaken souls) they did not want to face unnecessarily.
Things fell apart, the party fled back the way they came, and in a very Last Crusades moment, the warlock looked back to see her father with the last remaining imp dead in his hands waving back to her with a look of utmost pride, appreciate, and of course sadness. She vowed to free him and continued up with the rest of the group.
I could go on much longer about how the party psion discovered the Siege was in fact a new breed of alien ship subverted by the Exgod, how it was tied to the Abyss and, unlike the psion's own alien ship which was mindless and obedient, seemed alive, wounded, angry, and hateful. When she tried to interface with it, the vessel tried to kill the group by clamping shut the stairwell back up to the watchtower, which they just barely survived. There is a strong theme throughout the campaign involving alien technology from all kinds of civilizations and star systems with only one thing in common- all were destroyed by the Yth (aberrations) whose lords are pretty much the Lovecraftian Old Ones.
Anyway, when the psion tried to appeal to the Siege a second time, she was struck by a blood red beam. I felt I had every right to lay massive damage, maybe even kill her. She'd repeatedly poked the sleeping bull knowing the potential consequences. However, I'd decided no save vs death. And I'm glad I did... Again, background on the character, her mantle as psionic Oversoul, and her aura/efforts to bring about hope and unity in opposition to her psion father (The Overmind) who inspires progress and conquest would be helpful here. Suffice to say, the Siege's intentions were to eradicate her, open a portal to the Abyss, and flood the chamber with high-level demons. INSTEAD, the psion's powerful aura of hope and psionic will seemed to balance the attack, and she ended up with a slow-spiraling portal of bloody red, fringed with black, about the size of a dinner plate in her chest. Investigation and shock ensued, especially from her love interest, the assassin. In the end, they decided to wrap it in gauze and hope for the best. Hope, the party ardent suspected, would be the only medicine. So long as she maintained her field of inspiration and psychic power, she was safe. Should the character ever truly despair and lose heart, it would consume her utterly. This poses a very interesting element for the psion going into the final stretches of the game where she'll be facing no less than four Ythlords (Old Ones) and potentially the destruction of several planets. It also proves a fun allegory for her character in relation to the setting.
As if things couldn't get worse, waiting in the watchtower was the Confessor of Orcus with an invitation to treat with his lord and master. The angel refused and truly could not be swayed (and there were attempts by nearly every party member). It was no secret Orcus wanted the death spark in the angel's possession and the Gate in the Exgod's possession to become the god of death and undeath. Discussion exploded, lines were drawn, and the confessor didn't have to say very much, only affirm (and Insight proved he believed what he said) that the party would need the demon prince's help if they were to succeed. Worse, if the party refused, they invited a second powerful enemy to oppose them who already had a presence in the Siege. If there was one glimmer of promise in all this, it was that Orcus "was detained" by the Exgod, meaning the demon prince was not able to simply manifest and attack them, or the Exgod. Perhaps that is why he summoned the party in the first place.
It's often said, "Never split the party". They split the party. Initially, the confessor wanted all of the party or none of them, but when it became apparent nothing on heaven or earth would budge the angel into treating, he opened a portal and welcomed any who wished to join him. The warlock, assassin, and swordmage (remember a budding demon lord himself) followed. The druid, ardent, psion, and of course angelic bladesinger remained. And that's where we ended.
I must say, I admire my players for playing true to their characters. Obviously, none of the players wanted to split, but they knew they simply had to. I think that's awesome. I'm not going to punish them for that, but...
The party continued their trials in the Purgatory Siege...
While the party continued researching both the sphere-summoning ritual and information on the brutal pantheon and cowed worlds of the preceding Creation, the seminary imps returned with a vengeance. They came with fourteen unnerving, completely soundless beings of dense shadowstuff standing around ten feet, wearing over-sized and decomposing ram's heads like full-helms, with names such as 'Without Eyes', "Anti-Librarian', 'Slaughterer of the Learned', and 'Mindlock'. They had a modified phasing ability, able to move freely through the walls of the Siege (but not through PCs or their summoned/created obstructions). They also each had a unique mechanic that, should they be the last abomination standing, a battlefield-wide effect would result. For instance, had Anti-Librarian been the last standing, all the party's ritual books would be destroyed. If Without Eyes was the last, all the party would be permanently blinded until a proper Remove Affliction could be cast. Slaughterer of the Learned would have forced every PC to roll a save for each Intelligence modifier or incur 1 point of necropotence. And so on...
The party identified these beings as undead demons of Orcus converted to the cause of the Exgod. Previously in the campaign, undeath had been a fate reserved for mortals, but now it seemed angels, devils, and demons were also susceptible. Furthermore, the Exgod had cured his creations of all radiant vulnerability, so the light edge many of the PC's considered themselves having in future fights vanished. This also implied that Orcus, previously suspected to be an ally of the Exgod, may in fact be an enemy of their enemy.
I used a portion of 0one's Citadel map for the seminary with a few modifications to represent the statue of Orcus' sister-lover Anat, the lectern which had held the Necronomicon, etc. I absolutely love their maps, and some of the players mentioned getting an old school vibe they inspire (we'd previously used realistic maps such as LordZseze, but there simply aren't enough out there to represent the places my party treads, nor do I have the patience to make new ones in Photoshop like I once did). The map provided a main seminary level (if you recall with a floor of chipped glass several dozen feet thick, below which was a lake of boiling blood and tormented souls). There was also the balcony level which held the lectern and, beyond, hallways and chambers beyond sight which the imps originally fled down last session. There were also several ancillary chambers, like the one with the succubus/marilith mural and a separate room with the confessional (once housing the mysterious and not altogether unfriendly Confessor of Orcus).
The combat was dynamic, and I say that because objectives kind of evolved between rounds and everyone was busy and thinking throughout. Initially, the party was all about combating the abominations [re-skinned Forsaken Slaughterers, standard level 28 brutes with extremely reduced hp to prevent grind]. They had auras which halved healing, a bloodied trigger which inflicted a healing surge worth of damage, and their attacks did enough on their own [6d8+18] to concern the party if cornered. PCs were able to shine using forced movement, smart positioning, healing, and big damage.
On the second round, the fight started to lean the party's way, thanks in part to a house rule we've had a LOT of fun with, called collision damage. Basically, if a PC has a power that pushes, pulls, or slides an enemy into something without give (a wall for instance) and they have squares remaining in the push, they can convert them to d10's in damage, not unlike a fall. In this way, controllers get some beef in the damage department, and it's just fun. Despite being potent, it's never spoiled anything in my games, rather its empowered our PC movers. And if I feel adequate damage has been dealt, the obstruction might break.
We also use something similar when we decide where enemies end up if they're pushed into each other. If there are any remaining squares of a forced movement, you can spend 1 on each enemy in contact, then whatever's left over to move them. For instance, if a power was used with Push 5, and the PC spent 2 moving one enemy into another, he could spend 2 more to target them both, then his remaining 1 square to push them both 1. It's worked out nicely in the past tiers, and continues to in Epic.
Some of the PCs shifted focus to chasing down the four imps going separate directions so they couldn't inform anything or anyone else. I also introduced the Lord of Ignorance, a huge-sized ram's head abomination that startled the nearest PCs. Our warlock immediately reacted, dropping Web of something or other which kept it rooted and dealt a solid 112 psychic damage. It was enough to trigger the Lord's bloodied effect, and if not for the Archdruid's sacred earth zone (part of a homebrew story-based prestige class element I designed for my game called a 'mantle') everyone on the battlefield (I define this in my game as on the map), instead of only 2, would have suffered losing a fourth of their hp.
I experimented here with a mini-boss whose triggers and attacks could potentially effect the entire battlefield, and its auras stretched to within line of effect. In my estimation, the Lord of Ignorance was a complete success. I'd gotten the controllers' attentions, and they used what they had to great effect mitigating what the Lord might have done. It upped the ante, added another facet to the combat, threatening but not so big a bomb all their previous work was undone, or they were so outmatched they simply had to flee. It worked particularly well as a second round introduction, too.
On the third round, Tomeburn was the last abomination standing, triggering an effect which basically dropped a huge fireball down in the main seminary chamber. It injured a few PCs, nothing very serious, but the real price paid was in the seminary library, which was utterly destroyed in moments. Whatever treasures, lore, and rumors that might have been gained were now lost. The party, after learning some of the other effects of the other abominations, were grateful, but mostly in their ignorance (irony) of what they didn't realize they lost.
Later in the round, the Lord of Ignorance was blinded and slowed, and the druid was preparing to stake it to the wall with a well-placed oak skewer. He'd also... healed. The party feared regeneration, but the secret to his renewal (and the opportunity to trigger multiple healing surge damages across the battlefield) wasn't so arbitrary. Though the party never discerned it, whenever one of the smaller abominations died, it evaporated and fed the mini-boss. There were further clues, also, when one of them died by massive ice damage and became trapped and didn't heal the big guy. Neither here nor there, but I thought it was cool that there was an explanation and a synergy.
The party's angel tried to recognize with a self-initiated History check (which I thought clever) the identity of the Lord of Ignorance. Given her vast lifetime, it seemed a fair approach. She'd no doubt use the information to play at a weakness of ego or physiology. But instead she recognized there were several souls trapped within the amalgam, two angels she once knew, two demons, and a mortal soul- the late father and former vampire king of the party warlock. Appealing in a very, very creative way to each of them (and their times together, be it battles, arguments, or shared vision) she freed the angels and demons as the Lord receded behind a wall, ultimately reducing the Lord to his remaining soul out of sight.
Things were just about coming to a close, when the NPC companion of the druid, seeking to put out all the fires and save some scraps by expanding his aura with a Nature check, crit. In my games, natural 20s are sometimes more scary than natural 1's, only because I play a natural 20 as something being overly successful, and depending on the nature of the task delving too deep or pushing too far. The NPC extinguished everything with a blast of cold, but I wasn't so rat bastard that I had it damage the party, rather it soothed burns and created a gentle snowfall. Given that the room was, moments ago, super-heated and ablaze, the glass floor developed a crack from the drastic temperature change. The crack veined and expanded rapidly, releasing super-heated air from below. That lake of boiling blood would soon open wide to welcome the party, which in and of itself wasn't so frightening to a group that could almost all fly, but which promised unknown complications involving heat and anything lurking down there (forsaken souls) they did not want to face unnecessarily.
Things fell apart, the party fled back the way they came, and in a very Last Crusades moment, the warlock looked back to see her father with the last remaining imp dead in his hands waving back to her with a look of utmost pride, appreciate, and of course sadness. She vowed to free him and continued up with the rest of the group.
I could go on much longer about how the party psion discovered the Siege was in fact a new breed of alien ship subverted by the Exgod, how it was tied to the Abyss and, unlike the psion's own alien ship which was mindless and obedient, seemed alive, wounded, angry, and hateful. When she tried to interface with it, the vessel tried to kill the group by clamping shut the stairwell back up to the watchtower, which they just barely survived. There is a strong theme throughout the campaign involving alien technology from all kinds of civilizations and star systems with only one thing in common- all were destroyed by the Yth (aberrations) whose lords are pretty much the Lovecraftian Old Ones.
Anyway, when the psion tried to appeal to the Siege a second time, she was struck by a blood red beam. I felt I had every right to lay massive damage, maybe even kill her. She'd repeatedly poked the sleeping bull knowing the potential consequences. However, I'd decided no save vs death. And I'm glad I did... Again, background on the character, her mantle as psionic Oversoul, and her aura/efforts to bring about hope and unity in opposition to her psion father (The Overmind) who inspires progress and conquest would be helpful here. Suffice to say, the Siege's intentions were to eradicate her, open a portal to the Abyss, and flood the chamber with high-level demons. INSTEAD, the psion's powerful aura of hope and psionic will seemed to balance the attack, and she ended up with a slow-spiraling portal of bloody red, fringed with black, about the size of a dinner plate in her chest. Investigation and shock ensued, especially from her love interest, the assassin. In the end, they decided to wrap it in gauze and hope for the best. Hope, the party ardent suspected, would be the only medicine. So long as she maintained her field of inspiration and psychic power, she was safe. Should the character ever truly despair and lose heart, it would consume her utterly. This poses a very interesting element for the psion going into the final stretches of the game where she'll be facing no less than four Ythlords (Old Ones) and potentially the destruction of several planets. It also proves a fun allegory for her character in relation to the setting.
As if things couldn't get worse, waiting in the watchtower was the Confessor of Orcus with an invitation to treat with his lord and master. The angel refused and truly could not be swayed (and there were attempts by nearly every party member). It was no secret Orcus wanted the death spark in the angel's possession and the Gate in the Exgod's possession to become the god of death and undeath. Discussion exploded, lines were drawn, and the confessor didn't have to say very much, only affirm (and Insight proved he believed what he said) that the party would need the demon prince's help if they were to succeed. Worse, if the party refused, they invited a second powerful enemy to oppose them who already had a presence in the Siege. If there was one glimmer of promise in all this, it was that Orcus "was detained" by the Exgod, meaning the demon prince was not able to simply manifest and attack them, or the Exgod. Perhaps that is why he summoned the party in the first place.
It's often said, "Never split the party". They split the party. Initially, the confessor wanted all of the party or none of them, but when it became apparent nothing on heaven or earth would budge the angel into treating, he opened a portal and welcomed any who wished to join him. The warlock, assassin, and swordmage (remember a budding demon lord himself) followed. The druid, ardent, psion, and of course angelic bladesinger remained. And that's where we ended.
I must say, I admire my players for playing true to their characters. Obviously, none of the players wanted to split, but they knew they simply had to. I think that's awesome. I'm not going to punish them for that, but...
Last edited:
Pour
First Post
For posterity, I thought we should add [MENTION=3586]MerricB[/MENTION] 's Epic Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun play report to this thread.
Scrivener of Doom
Adventurer
Great thread!
Thanks for posting.
Thanks for posting.
Pour
First Post
Last we left, the party split.
Our warlock, swordmage, and assassin followed the Confessor of Orcus through a portal and to a different part of the Siege. While I've locked down all teleportation and communication outside of the fortress, I've tried to sustain the value of many of their rituals within the Siege interior. It would make sense the other factions within the Siege would also utilize this limited utility (local teleports, Sendings, etc).
After a quick pep talk, they warily met 'detained' Orcus. There had to be a reason the prince had bothered to treat with mortals at all, why he didn't just kill their angel, steal her death spark, and take the fight directly to the Exgod himself. They found the answer quickly enough:
I modified Orcus some, giving him an aura 6 that inflicts 30 necrotic damage, so the PCs were forced to keep at a distance. I also have a running thread throughout the game that the very utterance of Abyssal is painful to hear, and usually causes some sort of bleeding through tear ducts or pores. This was magnified with the big guy here.
Negotiations were relatively straightforward. There was really only the demon's offer of alliance on the table, and the party was lucky to get him to divulge one or two of his intentions before growing tired of their prying and demanding an answer. They would retrieve Orcus's prized skull (they don't know its purpose quite yet, but it obviously holds power for the prince) in return for two planetary spheres and Orcus's aid in the battle against the Exgod. The three took council in an antechamber, deciding to accept the offer rather than risk facing the demon lord undermanned and in unfamiliar surrounds.
They also caught a glimpse of Orcus's genitals when they reentered the durance to find him free of his bonds, crouching by the doorway and washing them all in necrotic energy in his eagerness for an answer. Yikes. I'd post the description, but it breaks board policies.
I try to do every demon in a bombastic way, but Orcus is one of the very baddest princes in the Abyss. Throughout the campaign, I've followed a thematic thread of having demons' presences cause bad things to happen. For a relatively minor vrock earlier in the game, things would slowly decay in its line of effect, mundane items, scrolls, clothing, metal. For a more powerful demon later in the game, bugs would surface in unexpected places and food would perish. For Orcus, I took out the stops and had all kinds of unhygienic stuff automatically occur to the PCs, including tasting maggots in the back of their throats, developing legions on their lips, losing clumps of their hair, having their teeth and fingernails loosen, and ultimately feeling VERY uncomfortable sensations and added weight in their undergarments (giant tape worms). These usually occurred when Orcus emoted, for instance the maggots happened when the demon lord licked his own lips. Suffice to say, when those three returned to the watchtower, each of them stripped and thanked all the gods for the Fastidiousness ritual.
Meanwhile, the archdruid, bladesinger, ardent, psion, and companion druid pressed on. The angel's Analyze Portal ritual determined the trident-etched tile led to a place called the Starcellar, a sort of cthonic observatory. What a cool ritual to allow me to give some background via the portal creator and the last creature through. The Exgod had, of course, built this tile, though shaped might have been a more apt word (remember, the Siege itself was really an alien ship that keyed off of the subliminal paradigms of its helmsman and joined them with its demonic nature). The last one to use the tile was the resurrected vestige of one of the fallen gods of an older Creation (perhaps one of the previously-mentioned Merciless, or something older still) into an exarch. Though the Exgod's loss of true divinity had weakened this creature, underestimating it would just be stupid in this place. So they didn't, rather prepared themselves for an attack just as soon as they passed.
I have to interject that creating this dungeon complex around the dead, including the gods, demons, and angels from across the universe's infinite extinguished stars and swallowed worlds, has allowed a lot of room for creativity and spontaneity to blossom. I'm glad I opted this route. I could conceivably introduce just about anything within the context of this place and have it still fit within the grander scheme of my setting, without breaking the campaign. I've already introduced fourthcore gods. I have a mind to stretch even further...
They were not attacked straight away in the Starceller, though they were taken aback by the place, an hemispheric observatory of alien architecture and design, with dull black-gray vaults inundated with circuitry and a loom-like ceiling of cyberoptics. Most of these circuits were burned out, save one blue knot and adjoining tributaries and glowing offshoots. They came to realize it represented their solar system, while the ceiling represented the known universe.
However, the element which really drew their attention was the telescope, or perhaps cannon, what we ended up calling simply "the device" or "the machine". A giant, pallid corpse of some alien creature with an elephantine snout and huge, octopus hands strewed fused to the chair and console (okay, okay, I'd watched Prometheus the night before, sue me). There was a doorway leading out, but glistening strands of circuitry stretched across the opening.
Considerable investigation, speculation, and trial-and-error commenced. Also, the Orcus party rejoined the others around this time. I think I'll leave it here for now and continue tomorrow with the conclusion.
Our warlock, swordmage, and assassin followed the Confessor of Orcus through a portal and to a different part of the Siege. While I've locked down all teleportation and communication outside of the fortress, I've tried to sustain the value of many of their rituals within the Siege interior. It would make sense the other factions within the Siege would also utilize this limited utility (local teleports, Sendings, etc).
After a quick pep talk, they warily met 'detained' Orcus. There had to be a reason the prince had bothered to treat with mortals at all, why he didn't just kill their angel, steal her death spark, and take the fight directly to the Exgod himself. They found the answer quickly enough:
I modified Orcus some, giving him an aura 6 that inflicts 30 necrotic damage, so the PCs were forced to keep at a distance. I also have a running thread throughout the game that the very utterance of Abyssal is painful to hear, and usually causes some sort of bleeding through tear ducts or pores. This was magnified with the big guy here.
Negotiations were relatively straightforward. There was really only the demon's offer of alliance on the table, and the party was lucky to get him to divulge one or two of his intentions before growing tired of their prying and demanding an answer. They would retrieve Orcus's prized skull (they don't know its purpose quite yet, but it obviously holds power for the prince) in return for two planetary spheres and Orcus's aid in the battle against the Exgod. The three took council in an antechamber, deciding to accept the offer rather than risk facing the demon lord undermanned and in unfamiliar surrounds.
They also caught a glimpse of Orcus's genitals when they reentered the durance to find him free of his bonds, crouching by the doorway and washing them all in necrotic energy in his eagerness for an answer. Yikes. I'd post the description, but it breaks board policies.
I try to do every demon in a bombastic way, but Orcus is one of the very baddest princes in the Abyss. Throughout the campaign, I've followed a thematic thread of having demons' presences cause bad things to happen. For a relatively minor vrock earlier in the game, things would slowly decay in its line of effect, mundane items, scrolls, clothing, metal. For a more powerful demon later in the game, bugs would surface in unexpected places and food would perish. For Orcus, I took out the stops and had all kinds of unhygienic stuff automatically occur to the PCs, including tasting maggots in the back of their throats, developing legions on their lips, losing clumps of their hair, having their teeth and fingernails loosen, and ultimately feeling VERY uncomfortable sensations and added weight in their undergarments (giant tape worms). These usually occurred when Orcus emoted, for instance the maggots happened when the demon lord licked his own lips. Suffice to say, when those three returned to the watchtower, each of them stripped and thanked all the gods for the Fastidiousness ritual.
Meanwhile, the archdruid, bladesinger, ardent, psion, and companion druid pressed on. The angel's Analyze Portal ritual determined the trident-etched tile led to a place called the Starcellar, a sort of cthonic observatory. What a cool ritual to allow me to give some background via the portal creator and the last creature through. The Exgod had, of course, built this tile, though shaped might have been a more apt word (remember, the Siege itself was really an alien ship that keyed off of the subliminal paradigms of its helmsman and joined them with its demonic nature). The last one to use the tile was the resurrected vestige of one of the fallen gods of an older Creation (perhaps one of the previously-mentioned Merciless, or something older still) into an exarch. Though the Exgod's loss of true divinity had weakened this creature, underestimating it would just be stupid in this place. So they didn't, rather prepared themselves for an attack just as soon as they passed.
I have to interject that creating this dungeon complex around the dead, including the gods, demons, and angels from across the universe's infinite extinguished stars and swallowed worlds, has allowed a lot of room for creativity and spontaneity to blossom. I'm glad I opted this route. I could conceivably introduce just about anything within the context of this place and have it still fit within the grander scheme of my setting, without breaking the campaign. I've already introduced fourthcore gods. I have a mind to stretch even further...
They were not attacked straight away in the Starceller, though they were taken aback by the place, an hemispheric observatory of alien architecture and design, with dull black-gray vaults inundated with circuitry and a loom-like ceiling of cyberoptics. Most of these circuits were burned out, save one blue knot and adjoining tributaries and glowing offshoots. They came to realize it represented their solar system, while the ceiling represented the known universe.
However, the element which really drew their attention was the telescope, or perhaps cannon, what we ended up calling simply "the device" or "the machine". A giant, pallid corpse of some alien creature with an elephantine snout and huge, octopus hands strewed fused to the chair and console (okay, okay, I'd watched Prometheus the night before, sue me). There was a doorway leading out, but glistening strands of circuitry stretched across the opening.
Considerable investigation, speculation, and trial-and-error commenced. Also, the Orcus party rejoined the others around this time. I think I'll leave it here for now and continue tomorrow with the conclusion.
[MENTION=59411]Pour[/MENTION], I'm enjoying your writeups. And am getting a sci-fantasy-horror vibe from them.
When the party split, how did you handle it at the table? Several sessions ago now I had a split party, and tried round-robinning across each of the the three groups to keep everyone engaged, but it didn't work especially well - in part because I didn't feel I was achieving meaningful mechanical connections across each group.
When the party split, how did you handle it at the table? Several sessions ago now I had a split party, and tried round-robinning across each of the the three groups to keep everyone engaged, but it didn't work especially well - in part because I didn't feel I was achieving meaningful mechanical connections across each group.
Pour
First Post
[MENTION=42582]pemerton[/MENTION] , That's the beauty of running the game online via chatrooms. All of my players are writers at heart, and that takes a long enough delay between the typing, sending, and responding to allow a dedicated DM to juggle two or more rooms at the same time (plus private messaging with questions and secret information). Now the thinner you stretch yourself, the lower your quality, believe me, so I try to max out at 2, though 3 rooms isn't uncommon.
Strangely, I've never minded this pacing compared to my tabletop games. I have noticed that playing online has allowed me to take part in more mature, horrific, cerebral, and generally more serious campaigns, while my tabletop stuff tends to be more spontaneous, humorous, and fast paced. I love both approaches, really, for their differences. I guess going into an online chat game, everyone's expectations are different right from the get go. Also, we read each other's chatrooms and to hell with the meta (though one or two players do refrain, not trusting themselves hehe). That provides additional entertainment. And we also keep an OOC room for general chat about anything and everything.
There have been times when the game has felt slow, though long combat is more tolerable in this venue (though I do everything in my power to keep it from being grindy). I usually change things up, then, but I'd say one of the great strengths of chatrooms is the ability to quickly and easily split the party, even down to seven simultaneous solo missions if I really wanted to.
Strangely, I've never minded this pacing compared to my tabletop games. I have noticed that playing online has allowed me to take part in more mature, horrific, cerebral, and generally more serious campaigns, while my tabletop stuff tends to be more spontaneous, humorous, and fast paced. I love both approaches, really, for their differences. I guess going into an online chat game, everyone's expectations are different right from the get go. Also, we read each other's chatrooms and to hell with the meta (though one or two players do refrain, not trusting themselves hehe). That provides additional entertainment. And we also keep an OOC room for general chat about anything and everything.
There have been times when the game has felt slow, though long combat is more tolerable in this venue (though I do everything in my power to keep it from being grindy). I usually change things up, then, but I'd say one of the great strengths of chatrooms is the ability to quickly and easily split the party, even down to seven simultaneous solo missions if I really wanted to.
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