Get your free xp here!
"Gain xp the easy way. Need a few extra levels to be able to call yourself a master plumber? Want to be a level 20th farmer in a rural community so you can make the best goblin surprise? But you are afraid of the dark small enclosed spaces? Scared that you’re gonna die out there in a damp unsafe unapproved 'real' dungeon? Scared that your mates don't get you back to town before the local cleric shop closes for the weekend? Afraid you'll miss the Stormers vs the Raiders game on Saturday as a result? Well worry no longer! We have an indoor training facility containing realistic traps and golems controlled by competent wizards. Gain a level an hour due to the healing capabilities of a cleric assigned to your personally! Too good to be true? Come inside, sign the disclaimer forms, bring a friend and gain your first level for free. Hurry while the golems last."
It started simple: a couple of drunk wizards and a one handed rogue sit in their favorite inn some years ago reminiscing about how long it took them to gain a level. Complaining about the xp drain to the higher level members in their group and the lack of soft targets in world that seemed by the day to be fuller and fuller of goodie two shoes trying to save it and save it cheaper. Half drunk and half mad with half remembered half truth about fallen comrades that they never got on with but who were decent folk after all, when one of the docile wizards interrupts the rogue who is swimming up stream of memory and beer. The rogue half way through a tale of how the mother of all traps taught him a lesson by chewing his arm off asks: "Wasstat?"
A simple question by a bored wizard hoping to steer the conversation away from a story that by now had worn such a deep grove in his own head he himself felt like chewing his own arm off to make the body honor the memory. Any direction as long it was not in the same bloody track. "Can you recreate the trap?"
"Can you recreate the mother of all traps? You friggen drunk cockroach."
"Yeash."
"Good… think if you make her, we stand all behind you again and you stick your arm in it again we all go ding again?"
"Dunno…..shuddna thiksho…..a gnid might shappen thobs."
"Not after a gnid; I can do a gnid all by myself in the lab making love potions; I don't need you watching me to do so….you're likely right though my one armed bandit. What we need is a second one of you so that you can stick your remaining arms in each others traps so we can all go ding again and again."
Basically the idea was sound if a little soggy. After a few iterations, an animated trap, a few misshapen golems, the idea took shape. Soon the wizards and the rogue made the first perpetual xp engine. They housed it in the local cave complex and all it took was the ocassional goblin to kick start it on a cold wintery morning. The basic engine cycle was simple; a small trap, a small golem, a slightly bigger golem, a slightly bigger golem, a ding. Within a few weeks, the golems were the hardest to reconstruct, even with the manufacturers bolt on an extra limb at a time package. But after a while the whole group had dinged themselves up to level 20. After that they opened for business.
"Gain xp the easy way. Need a few extra levels to be able to call yourself a master plumber? Want to be a level 20th farmer in a rural community so you can make the best goblin surprise? But you are afraid of the dark small enclosed spaces? Scared that you’re gonna die out there in a damp unsafe unapproved 'real' dungeon? Scared that your mates don't get you back to town before the local cleric shop closes for the weekend? Afraid you'll miss the Stormers vs the Raiders game on Saturday as a result? Well worry no longer! We have an indoor training facility containing realistic traps and golems controlled by competent wizards. Gain a level an hour due to the healing capabilities of a cleric assigned to your personally! Too good to be true? Come inside, sign the disclaimer forms, bring a friend and gain your first level for free. Hurry while the golems last."
It started simple: a couple of drunk wizards and a one handed rogue sit in their favorite inn some years ago reminiscing about how long it took them to gain a level. Complaining about the xp drain to the higher level members in their group and the lack of soft targets in world that seemed by the day to be fuller and fuller of goodie two shoes trying to save it and save it cheaper. Half drunk and half mad with half remembered half truth about fallen comrades that they never got on with but who were decent folk after all, when one of the docile wizards interrupts the rogue who is swimming up stream of memory and beer. The rogue half way through a tale of how the mother of all traps taught him a lesson by chewing his arm off asks: "Wasstat?"
A simple question by a bored wizard hoping to steer the conversation away from a story that by now had worn such a deep grove in his own head he himself felt like chewing his own arm off to make the body honor the memory. Any direction as long it was not in the same bloody track. "Can you recreate the trap?"
"Can you recreate the mother of all traps? You friggen drunk cockroach."
"Yeash."
"Good… think if you make her, we stand all behind you again and you stick your arm in it again we all go ding again?"
"Dunno…..shuddna thiksho…..a gnid might shappen thobs."
"Not after a gnid; I can do a gnid all by myself in the lab making love potions; I don't need you watching me to do so….you're likely right though my one armed bandit. What we need is a second one of you so that you can stick your remaining arms in each others traps so we can all go ding again and again."
Basically the idea was sound if a little soggy. After a few iterations, an animated trap, a few misshapen golems, the idea took shape. Soon the wizards and the rogue made the first perpetual xp engine. They housed it in the local cave complex and all it took was the ocassional goblin to kick start it on a cold wintery morning. The basic engine cycle was simple; a small trap, a small golem, a slightly bigger golem, a slightly bigger golem, a ding. Within a few weeks, the golems were the hardest to reconstruct, even with the manufacturers bolt on an extra limb at a time package. But after a while the whole group had dinged themselves up to level 20. After that they opened for business.
A PC of any level should be able to handle any threat.
