ZEITGEIST [ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.

[gideonpepys]

Reflections turn into Ramblings

Okay, so I just posted a link to a youtube clip of Night On Bare Mountain to get my players in the mood for our next sesh. Posting music clips before a session is something I've done a couple of times recently. (We can't choose what music plays during the session because we play in a pub.) This got me thinking about a thread SanjMerchant started a few months ago that I didn't have time to respond to. Shortly after that, by sheer coincidence, one of my players posted a list of tracks he felt were appropriate for each character in our campaign which was interesting because it was very different from what I would have chosen myself and made me realise how personal music choices are - perhaps to the extent that sharing them is almost pointless!

That said, the fact is that I have had a Zeitgeist playlist on my ipod since the campaign began. On it there are 'themes' for adventures or sections of adventures, for the campaign as a whole, for specific NPC and - perhaps most importantly - for each PC. When I'm out walking my dog, or driving to work, and ruminating on twists and turns for the next few sessions, I make sure to play the appropriate theme. It doesn't matter that the player might not recognise, might even disagree with my choice - or that the choice is in some cases totally anachronistic or lyrically inappropriate - as long as the track I've chosen creates the right mood in my very own head.

This is my main campaign theme, chosen to chime with the busy urban mystery of Dying Skyseer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSkOfi-oLl4

And here are a few of the PC's songs:

Korrigan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diKcaqRwuss

Leon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zw5pZps-aIc

Rumdoom: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilIDkkD0jIg

Matunaaga https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L41oGXgVmZg

Xambria https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZhAG01aDFg

Gupta: (Odd one this, but I was listening to it a lot when planning the reboot and certain early scenes involving her are now inextricably linked to this song in my mind. This tune works for Conquo too, especially the drums towards the end. But he has his own theme anyway...) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRWUoDpo2fo

Conquo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5IpN3grKDI

Malthusius: (Aw.) ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAdqFUYusdA

Uriel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2inNYauU1o

Uru: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WZha_LHVS8

And here are some themes for specific, recent scenes:

Schism, Act Two - The Frost Giant's Rift: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ypyt_vXd5dw

Schism, Act Three - As their Ship Approaches Mutravir: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiK2JlBpzvI

Diaspora - Travelling in the Jungle and Exploring the Elafaivaren Ruins: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INHttEHCZEw

Finally, Some key NPCs:

Nicodemus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EOlZyD26T4

Kasvarina https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fHoMw8tCzo

Han Jierre https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oP2SS8ggLtU

Lorcan Kell https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O22CM5oYJng

Ramble over. Normal service will resume shortly.

 

[RangerWickett]

Well damn. Now I need to write a sequel to ZEITGEIST set a few decades later with Jazz Age inspiration. And I'm always a fan of some Morricone. Oh, f*** you for making me stay up and listen to all of these when there's a tropical storm about to knock my power out in Atlanta.

 

[gideonpepys]

Well damn. Now I need to write a sequel to ZEITGEIST set a few decades later with Jazz Age inspiration.

Yeah, not quite the right era, but it just fits in my head. Having said that, I would totally back/buy/run a jazz-era D&D campaign.

And I'm always a fan of some Morricone.

Me too. Ever since I watched Once Upon A Time in the West at an inappropriately young age. Caught it on TV. Haunted me for years, and in those days you couldn't just google stuff you liked, watch it on the internet or buy it on DVD. Managed to get a copy on VHS about ten years later!

Oh, f*** you for making me stay up and listen to all of these when there's a tropical storm about to knock my power out in Atlanta.

You're welcome. And good luck with that!

 

[RangerWickett]

In a modern fantasy campaign I ran back in '05, I managed to arrange a scene that was like the three-way duel in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, only it was the PCs, a gang of ghost bounty hunters, and wizards trying to take over the world, and they were standing at ground zero where we'd tested the first atomic bomb -- which happened to be where the Holy Grail was buried.

Three way duels *DO NOT* work in D&D-style initiative. Ha.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 22 (145) - Bonds of Forced Faith Teaser

NB: If this reads strangely - or is a bit too detailed and long, considering the tangential nature of this interlude - that's mainly because I just copied and pasted chunks of readaloud text from the adventure and added a few references to what happened to our group for good measure. I include it here for completeness' sake. (An abridged version would simply read, 'we ran the teaser'.)

The year is 400AOV. In the sleepy fishing town of Flint, Mayor Roland Stanfield leads a band of inexperienced militiamen soldiers in a desperate attempt to root out a coven of witches from the Hunchback, a mountain that looms over the town. Stanfield doesn’t hold out much hope, having already failed (and died) before, but his pleas to the king have fallen on deaf ears, and his only other choice is to do nothing:

You’ve ascended halfway to the peak, and you can see the evening lights of Flint below. You’re nearly to ‘the hunch,’ where the thickly forested mountain grows suddenly rockier and steeper, but you can already hear the drums and wailing chants from the summit. A great fire burns a thousand feet above you, and for a moment your mouth waters at the rich scent of boiled meat, before you remember it’s probably human flesh they’re cooking up there.

This mountain used to be called The Hunchback. Now the locals are calling it Cauldron Hill. Mayor Stanfield and forty more armed men go to rescue the hostages, because you at least are brave. For years, your King refused your calls for help, first too busy with his war across the sea, and now too busy signing an armistice after he lost. Every one of you has seen a friend kidnapped, or a wife, a son, a parent. For decades it was rare, rare enough that people dismissed the stories and preferred to ignore the witches. But these last few years while the soldiers were away, the coven grew bold. A dozen more were abducted just last night, and if there’s a chance you can save them, you’ll not let fear stand in-

A sudden movement.

There is a rustling sound in the trees overhead, and a cackling woman’s voice pierces the silence. When you look back down, one man is on the ground, blood pouring from his belly. Another half-dozen are already running. The cackling swoops over them, and one flies up off the ground screaming, pulled into the tree canopy. All around you all you can see in the dark are trees, brush, and steep slopes to falls of hundred feet or more.

One man mutters an imprecation. “It’s all right for Stanfield, he gets to come back.” (Privately, Stanfield wishes he could share the horrors of his previous death at the hands of the coven, but knows it would only shatter their morale. At least they only have to die once!) Another man tries to be brave, and gives a rousing speech in a quavering voice that undermines his intention.

The pulse of a magical glamour is felt.

A man running beside you stops suddenly, begins to weep, draws a knife, and then jams it into his throat. Another man shrieks and shoves his companion off the nearest ledge. A gust of cold wind brushes the back of your neck, and a voice tarts to whisper into your ear, telling you to fling yourself off the mountain before the witches can steal your soul.

Another foul spell assails the group.

A cluster of soldiers standing in a ring, their swords brandished bravely, begin to cough blood and fall to their knees. You still can’t see any attackers, just chaos and confusion and screaming.

You hear a scream twenty feet away as shadows reach out from the backside of a tree, grab a man, and pull him tight against the trunk, crushing the life from him. Tree branches leap out and grasp others, those who moments ago were brave witch hunters, but now scream for salvation. Wet, mulchy fingers paw at their faces, thorns rip at their skin, blood dribbles down their arms. Shadowy humanoids as high as your waist detach from the night and surround the surviving warriors. They leap upon them, pull them down, and drag them away screaming. The din of pandemonium dulls, grows quiet, goes silent. The mayor stands alone. The horrors of Cauldron Hill seem to have spared him intentionally. Torches light up the forest. No. Burning bodies, some wailing. Silhouetted by flames, a trio of female figures walk slowly toward the mayor. Two of them hang back in the shadows, softly chanting, but one steps close. Her black hair cascades down to a dress the color of a scab, so tattered it looks like it’s been through battle many times.

Though resigned to his fate, Stanfield makes a resolute thrust with his short sword. The woman in red makes no attempt to evade the blow.

You plunge your sword through the exposed pale skin above her heart, striking what should be a killing blow. She rolls her eyes, shoves you back into the brambles, and drags the blade out of her ribcage with a grunt. No wound is left behind. She drops the sword with a muted clang and draws a rusted, jagged knife from her dress. It’s still stained with blood from the last time you saw her.

“Sisters,” she says, “you can have the others. I’ve grown fond of killing this one.”

The knife’s teeth saw the flesh of your neck open. Your blood pours down her arm. She holds you up by your jaw with unnatural strength, as a her dark fey underlings begin gnawing on your fingers, calves and forearms. Your vision darkens. Your limbs slacken. Your last sensation is hearing your men still screaming as they burn.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 22 (145) - Bonds of Forced Faith Briefing

More copying an pasting, with a few bits of originality thrown in. (A couple of players were absent, so the updates had to be detailed!)

Several weeks later. King Lorcan and his retinue have joined Stanfield in the Mayor’s mansion. They occupy a turret overlooking a crowd of protestors. With the king are his advisor Harkover Lee, bodyguard Dame Melissa Gahlot and a visitor from Crisillyir names Tomas Masaryk – a clergy godhand with information about the witch he calls ‘The Red Contessa’. The group are awaiting the arrival skyseer Rachel Lang, and intend to strike at dawn. (Tonight is a lunar eclipse – a bad omen.)

Stanfield has just finished persuading the king to allow him to join the assault, and impressing upon all present the ravages inflicted on his town by the witches.

Harkover Lee then shares his researches with the group:

The coven’s leader, the Red Contessa, can sense any blood spilled within 3 miles, and can speak and observe through pools of blood. Harkover had a magical black gem that will help the group sneak up on her.

The witch known as Sister Pernicity can command dark fey and the spirits of the dead. Sister Deliria confuses people’s minds, using trickery, illusions, and enchantment. There may be more witches.

People have reported attacking the witches, inflicting mortal wounds, and then seeing no effect. They have many minions, some willing, some coerced, some enchanted. And not all of them are human. The witches are never seen far from their minions, so perhaps they derive power from them.

The witches have captured more than a hundred hostages in the past month, and hundreds more in the past decade. Ritual sacrifice in the past has drawn the peak of Cauldron Hill in close contact with the realm of spirits, but Harkover cannot determine what the Contessa intends her current crop of blood sacrifice for.

The visitor Tomas Masaryk has come from the nation Crisillyir, who follow a religion known as the Clergy. Tomas claims he has information that will be useful, and Harkover has used magic to verify the truth of his claims. He can be trusted as an ally, at least for the mission of defeating the Red Contessa. Harkover then invites Masaryk to speak:

Tomas is a geneu credeto - a godhand devoted to the service of Triegenes. He names the leader of the coven as the Red Contessa – a heretic cast out of the faith forty years ago. Five years ago she returned to Crisillyir and snuck into the Vault of Heresies, from which she stole the blasphemous ritual bond of forced faith, scribed by the ancient fiend Namtar-Shamash of the demonocracy (which Triegenes gloriously defeated a thousand years ago). The ritual means that willing allies or unwilling hostages share their life force with the caster, whose physical might is increased. Wounds dealt to the caster are instead distributed among those bonded to her, but she must remain within 250 feet of them. Drowning and other non-wounding subdual should still work, as would moving her far enough from those bonded to her.

Dame Melissa looks down at the protestors, and loudly questions the strength of King Lorcan’s connection to his people – the very rites of rulership they will rely upon in the coming conflict may be weakened by the king’s loss of face, and territory in his recent, failed war with the nation of Danor. Tomas commiserates with the king and expresses his dislike of the infernal tieflings.

A messenger reports to the royal guards, who convey that the skyseer Rachel Lang still hasn’t arrived. Just then shouting from all across the island draws everyone’s attention out the window. A ship is sailing into harbor—no, not sailing, churning with some grumbling mechanism that belches black smoke and white steam in its wake. It flies both a white flag, and the flag of Danor.

As the ship nears the island, they can make out its name: Hinc ad Aeternitatem. A steam-powered runabout embarks and approaches the island.

At length, two visitors are brought before the king – a female tiefling, and a tall, thin deva. The tiefling bears many unusal weapons and calls herself Amielle Latimer. (Dame Melissa subtly interposes herself, and rests a hand on the pommel of her swrod.) Her deva companion looks uncomfortably cold and draws a thick fur cloak about him. The deva does not speak (though he stares at Stanfield a lot). Amielle explains their mission (in a very Pythonesque French accent):

An astronomer colleague of hers (she gestures at the deva) has calculated that tonight’s lunar eclipse will be in conjunction with the dark planet Nem, creating a strong surge of necromantic mana. At 8:30pm the focus of that power will align with the peak of Cauldron Hill, so any magic performed at that time will be greatly enhanced. The Danorans know that the Risuri think eclipses are bad omens, but they cannot let superstition cause them to hesitate. They must strike tonight, before the eclipse reaches its maximum. Amielle says that she had rushed “on Danor’s fastest ship… well, actually, Danor’s second-fastest ship (Danor’s fastest ship was being… oh, never mind)” to warn them while there’s still time. She volunteers to join the assault.

King Lorcan considers her news and agrees to attack now.

Stanfield impresses on everyone present how dangerous the mission will be. Amielle uses this opportunity to try to persuade her deva companion from joining them, but he is insistent. He reassures King Lorcan that he is more than capable of looking after himself.

A commotion down below heralds the arrival of Flint’s chief of police. He bows to the king, nods to his mayor, and glowers at the tiefling.

“I have news about the skyseers, my king. A mob attacked them and they had to flee onto the water at Parity Lake. Last I saw the mob was looking for boats to pursue them. They must have been enchanted, your majesty. Some of my men were injured in a brawl, and we couldn’t make them calm down long enough to explain themselves.”

Before the police chief can explain anymore either, screams sound from the crowd of protesters. A figure in the crowd has brandished a dagger high, and he removes his hood, tilts his head up, and plunges the blade into his throat.

People scatter, and the blood pours out onto the ground. The blood slowly rises up, waving its hands to forestall any hysterical reactions like attacking it. Dame Melissa has her returning spear at the ready.

The Red Contessa’s blood simulacrum speaks: “Greetings people of Flint. No one cares about you! You’re more chattel to them than you are to me, and I’ve been sticking your children in a black pot and cooking them alive for thirty years.

“Well, time has come to change that. I am your queen now, and a queen treats her subjects well. The abductions shall stop! Anyway, we don’t need more hostages; we have too many already.”

She gestures up to the mountain top, and a line of fires are shining there. People are being burned alive.

“Hush, king. I have no words for you that will speak louder than the sound my boot will make crushing your skull against the stone of my mountain. You’re an old man, and so I’ve lit candles for your birthday. Come if you dare. I’ll let you bow to me in fealty.”

“Now, my subjects, ask yourselves. Who will better protect you? A king who has lost a war, who has let his enemies sail into your harbor? Or a queen who burns those who offend her? Let me demonstrate.”

A few hundred feet away, with no other warning, the Danoran vessel explodes, vanishing in a cloud of white.

“Merde!” cries Amielle Latimer, “Danor’s second-fastest ship!” Uncontained steam from the boiler launches timbers and metal shards through the air. The remnants of the boat catch fire and crumple. But over the roar of its destruction the witch’s laughter can be heard as her blood simulacrum fades away.

This part of the session was a lot more fun and funnier than this write-up suggests. I wasn't taking notes, that's how funny it was. My personal favourite moment was when Malthusius' player (playing Stanfield) cottoned on to his connection with Malthus. I had mocked up a similar character sheet to those included with the adventure (at least from a distance in the dim light of a pub), and the player was properly perplexed. "Did you mock this up, or was this always part of the adventure?!?" I include the mock-up so you can see what a hash it is close up. Ho ho.

 

[RangerWickett]

Ooh, fancy character sheet.

 

[gideonpepys]

Ooh, fancy character sheet.

I did it on publisher. Careful observers will notice that his basic stats are copy-and-pasted from Stanfield.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 22 (145) - BoFF: Deception at Parity Lake

It was decided to strike against the witches that very night, but first to rescue skyseer Rachel Lang from the angry mob that had driven her onto Parity Lake. On the way the tall deva introduced himself to Mayor Stanfield. He said he was very interested in learning more about reincarnation. Stanfield said he would be only too glad to help, and promised to find him if he died tonight. The deva was reassured and finally introduced himself as Malthus.

At the lake, a mob of sixty or so people was clustered by a short dock, daring one another to board a boat and go in pursuit of Lang and her acolytes, who had fled in a boat themselves and now floated a few hundred feet off shore, just out of range of the two archers who were trying to hit their vessel with flaming arrows.

The mob was led by Husky Pete, Beadle of the North Shore, who was busy whipping the crowd up into a frenzy, his unkempt beard spittle-flecked, his eyes wild: “Drown the witch,” and “Skyseer? More like lie-seer!” Harkover confirmed that a magical glamor had been worked upon these people. The king ordered them to stand down and led his retinue towards the boat.

At once, Husky Pete reverted to his true form – the beautiful, red-haired Sister Deliria. “Weak-minded and weak-limbed,” she screamed. “Drown them, my pets!” At once, three trolls lunged up from the deep water around the dock, and a fourth emerged from a deep, reed-choked pool. One grabbed Harkover Lee and dragged him into the water just as Sister Deliria cursed the mage to forget all of his fire spells! Another two trolls lashed out at Tomas and the king.

Mounted on her stag, Weodam, Dame Melissa dodged a javelin thrown by the fourth troll, and used a fey entanglement spell to restrain the crowd, unsure whether the charm placed on them would cause them to join in the attack. Sister Deliria was caught in the entanglement too, but did not seem too concerned. When she was attacked, cries of pain were heard from the entangled crowd. It would appear that she too had somehow bound these people in a ritual of forced faith. She brought Weodam down with a wicked spell that caused the beast to thrash and moan in pain.

The ensuing battle was hard fought. (Although, oddly, the fourth troll began to fight against other, unseen adversaries, and was brought down without the king or his retinue lifting a finger. This was my nod to the fact that this is actualy a memory event. When the party witnesses it later in adventure eight, they'll be attacked by that fourth troll.) But all present proved their worth: the King caused the land itself to restrain the crowd and struck great blows with his claymore; Tomas was a nimble combatant, able to take punishment on behalf of others, and strike with his radiant fists from some distance away; Amielle Latimer bore strange, new-fangled firearms which did a great deal of damage when they hit, but seemed oddly prone to malfunction in this backward land of curses and gremlins; Mayor Stanfield was able to summon the remnants of his past lives to fight beside and heal his comrades; even the strange deva was able to provide uncanny insights that helped his allies strike true.

As the tide began to turn their way, Sister Deliria transformed herself into a raven, but the entangling briars clutched the raven fast too. When at last her trolls were defeated, Deliria remained defiant – even as Dame Melissa threw a magical, golden net over her. They dispersed the crowd and sailed the boat halfway to meet the returning Rachel Lang. As they went they cursorily interrogated Deliria. “Let me guess, you’re not going to tell us anything are you?” When she confirmed that this was the case, they tossed her over the side to drown inside the net.

Rachel Lang cast what little healing magic she had on the retinue, before sharing her vision:

“Blood coats the peak of the mountain, pouring out of a cauldron scorched black with fire. Body after body is dragged into that pot, and the victims scream and die and lend their blood to the cascade, while their terrified souls seep into the stone of the mountain. Then blood falls from the moon, raining across the entire city, and the eyes of a countess watch from every pool of moonlight. It is not safe to attack tonight! When the moon is near setting, and the glow of dawn waits to appear, the cauldron is unguarded, the coven exhausted and sleeping after their night of revelry. And a figure steps willingly into the boil and the bubble. By that selfless sacrifice, the fire turns to ice, the cascade stops, the blood fades away. And then the sun rises, the witches turn to stone, and the mountain is purified.”

Malthus shook his head and insisted that this was contrary to his very clear vision that a great disaster would befall Flint if the witches weren’t stopped tonight. The king considered the matter carefully (ignoring a few more unhelpful comments from Dame Melissa), and decided to press on immediately. (At least once Harkover and Stanfield had been freed from the curses Deliria had laid upon them.) Rachel Lang offered to protect them with blood magic of her own: a drop or two from each of them into a gourd of milk which she and her acolytes would pray over to ward away the evil of the mountain. She also mentioned another vision in which she saw prisoners kept at the ‘hunch’ halfway up. She had assumed these poor souls were lost, but now perhaps there might be a chance of rescue…

King Lorcan and his retinue set off towards the hill, and began their ascent in full darkness. It was very hard going. They sensed the presence of spirits around them, but they kept their distance thanks to the skyseer’s ward. Harkover Lee used his magic to prevent the witches from scrying them. They managed to avoid detection, until they reached the hunch.

Here they found the tiny, flighty witch, Sister Pernicity singing songs atop a pile of charred corpses that lay in the centre of a pentacle. A row of ‘beacons’ lined the clifftops nearby and Sister Pernicity complained that some of them had gone out. Dark fey danced around her and obeyed her command to drag more prisoners out of the nearby cages and lash them to new bonfires.

The king and his retinue prepared to intervene. …

End of Session

 

[SanjMerchant]

... Amielle explains their mission (in a very Pythonesque French accent): ...

Weirdly enough, despite knowing full well that Danoran is French, I can't help but imagine Amielle with a Texan drawl. "Stand still, ya little varmint!"

Of course, now I want her to tell off the witches: "Go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!"

(Oh, and did the players accept Lang's "help"?)