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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
In Hextor's Name (Completed 22 Oct 2004)
- Thread starter Capellan
- Start date
Capellan
Explorer
DM: you find a chest.
Capellan: "Troilan, check it for traps."
DM: do you?
Troilan's Player: yeah, sure
DM: *clatter of dice behind screen* You're pretty confident it's not trapped.
Capellan: I'm certain it isn't ... that was a d4 you just rolled.
DM: ...
Arwink: they sound different, you know
Yeah, we're geeks
?
psst, Wee Jas, hint, hint).
Capellan
Explorer
Kull's 10th Report - Part 2
Arranging passage out to the ruins on the island proved a simple task, and I set out before dawn the next morning, stepping ashore just as the sky began to lighten in the east. Raven's stronghold sat at the end of a high spur of rock, granting it a clear range of vision over many miles. Despite this, there was no sign of movement or alarm to be seen: either the darkness had covered my arrival, or these goblins were as inefficient as most of their kind, and had mounted no competent watch.
Leading the way to the building, I entered through the front door. This led to a narrow, looping corridor, overlooked by a broad stone ledge. Suspicious that ambushers might lurk there, I immediately scaled the wall.
My suspicions were well-founded: four goblins hid at the top, armed with nets and poisoned daggers. In truth, I cannot fault their choice of tactics: it offered them a strong defensive position, from which they could easily snare and defeat most intruders. My immediate investigation of their ledge caught them off guard, however, and their ambush set awry.
I managed to wound one of the creatures before they could react, but two others cast down their net, entangling Ulfgar and Dargim. The two dwarves soon cut their way free, however, and moved down the corridor in search of another way up. They quickly found one, and we crushed the goblins between us. The creatures were unusually fierce for their kind. I believe we faced elite troops – at least by the standards of the goblin race – possibly sent to the island on some business of the humanoid armies.
Moving on, we entered what appeared to be a disused room. Ulfgar too readily accepted this appearance, and moved forward, finding himself the target of a hail of arrows from hidden archers. Their barbs were well-aimed, and all of us took wounds, though none were felled. No doubt, if they could, the goblins would have fled at this time, but they had chosen a position without a line of retreat, and were butchered in swift order: without the advantage of surprise, they fell easily beneath my flail.
The next area of the fortress proved to be the prison cells. The first cell contained a kobold prisoner, but it would not co-operate, and made laughable threats against me, so I slew it. Only one other cell was occupied, with a pair of skeletons that had been manacled to the wall. Bidding the others stand back, I entered the cell alone. Ruins such as these are endlessly infested with minor undead irritants, and this proved to be the case here, as the skeletons rushed forward to attack me.
Before they had crossed even half the room, Hextor's Will had consumed them, and turned them to my service. It would have been well if Gnorric had seen this, and learned the folly of his fascination with such creatures. But this lesson will have to wait.
Further exploration caused me to once more reduce my opinion of the goblin defenders. I had thought them foolish at the outset, for they had not set a guard on the island, but the two ambushes I had so far faced had been as well executed as could be expected for such weak and disorganised creatures. Deeper within the stronghold, however, their discipline was negligible once more. We faced and swiftly slew two wolf-riders, though they destroyed one of the skeletons before they fell. The fight they gave was better than most goblins could offer, but it was only through their own indolence that they met us alone. Their location meant that they must surely have heard our battles with the earlier groups, but they had made no effort to investigate, nor even to sound the alarm. Any man under my command who showed such negligence would be executed as an example to his fellows.
The wolf-riders had made their quarters in the dining hall. Beyond this lay the kitchen, but this contained only rats and some tattered spider webs, so I led the way down another hall, into what appeared to be a small drawing room. I had barely stepped inside, however, before the skeleton that walked before me suddenly vanished through the solid flagstones of the floor.
Investigation quickly showed that these flagstones were nothing more than an illusion, placed over an open pit trap. The skeleton had been shattered by the drop, and so I left it, and we continued into the next room. There, we faced and quickly slew a pair of hobgoblins, with only Ulfgar being hurt in the fight..
There were two doors leading from this chamber, which appeared to be the true drawing room, and was rather larger than the false one. There was little to distinguish the two doors, and no enemies had issued forth from either, despite the commotion of our battle. In the end I chose that we would head to the right, for that door stood slightly ajar, suggesting that it might have been used more recently.
In this supposition, I was correct, for the door opened into a chamber some twenty feet to a side, in which stood an array of enemies. There were five goblins amongst the foe, but these were not the true challenge to be faced: behind them stood a pair of hobgoblins, proud and tall, and I knew we had found the leaders of this band.
The first of the two was close to seven feet in height, and dressed in a mighty suit of plate armour. He clasped a massive greatsword in his hands. His compatriot was less tall, though still taller than most men, and bore no armour or weapons. Instead, he wore the robes of a wizard or scholar, and he quickly proved he was the former, as he spoke words of arcane power, and hurled a mighty bolt of lightning against us.
Arranging passage out to the ruins on the island proved a simple task, and I set out before dawn the next morning, stepping ashore just as the sky began to lighten in the east. Raven's stronghold sat at the end of a high spur of rock, granting it a clear range of vision over many miles. Despite this, there was no sign of movement or alarm to be seen: either the darkness had covered my arrival, or these goblins were as inefficient as most of their kind, and had mounted no competent watch.
Leading the way to the building, I entered through the front door. This led to a narrow, looping corridor, overlooked by a broad stone ledge. Suspicious that ambushers might lurk there, I immediately scaled the wall.
My suspicions were well-founded: four goblins hid at the top, armed with nets and poisoned daggers. In truth, I cannot fault their choice of tactics: it offered them a strong defensive position, from which they could easily snare and defeat most intruders. My immediate investigation of their ledge caught them off guard, however, and their ambush set awry.
I managed to wound one of the creatures before they could react, but two others cast down their net, entangling Ulfgar and Dargim. The two dwarves soon cut their way free, however, and moved down the corridor in search of another way up. They quickly found one, and we crushed the goblins between us. The creatures were unusually fierce for their kind. I believe we faced elite troops – at least by the standards of the goblin race – possibly sent to the island on some business of the humanoid armies.
Moving on, we entered what appeared to be a disused room. Ulfgar too readily accepted this appearance, and moved forward, finding himself the target of a hail of arrows from hidden archers. Their barbs were well-aimed, and all of us took wounds, though none were felled. No doubt, if they could, the goblins would have fled at this time, but they had chosen a position without a line of retreat, and were butchered in swift order: without the advantage of surprise, they fell easily beneath my flail.
The next area of the fortress proved to be the prison cells. The first cell contained a kobold prisoner, but it would not co-operate, and made laughable threats against me, so I slew it. Only one other cell was occupied, with a pair of skeletons that had been manacled to the wall. Bidding the others stand back, I entered the cell alone. Ruins such as these are endlessly infested with minor undead irritants, and this proved to be the case here, as the skeletons rushed forward to attack me.
Before they had crossed even half the room, Hextor's Will had consumed them, and turned them to my service. It would have been well if Gnorric had seen this, and learned the folly of his fascination with such creatures. But this lesson will have to wait.
Further exploration caused me to once more reduce my opinion of the goblin defenders. I had thought them foolish at the outset, for they had not set a guard on the island, but the two ambushes I had so far faced had been as well executed as could be expected for such weak and disorganised creatures. Deeper within the stronghold, however, their discipline was negligible once more. We faced and swiftly slew two wolf-riders, though they destroyed one of the skeletons before they fell. The fight they gave was better than most goblins could offer, but it was only through their own indolence that they met us alone. Their location meant that they must surely have heard our battles with the earlier groups, but they had made no effort to investigate, nor even to sound the alarm. Any man under my command who showed such negligence would be executed as an example to his fellows.
The wolf-riders had made their quarters in the dining hall. Beyond this lay the kitchen, but this contained only rats and some tattered spider webs, so I led the way down another hall, into what appeared to be a small drawing room. I had barely stepped inside, however, before the skeleton that walked before me suddenly vanished through the solid flagstones of the floor.
Investigation quickly showed that these flagstones were nothing more than an illusion, placed over an open pit trap. The skeleton had been shattered by the drop, and so I left it, and we continued into the next room. There, we faced and quickly slew a pair of hobgoblins, with only Ulfgar being hurt in the fight..
There were two doors leading from this chamber, which appeared to be the true drawing room, and was rather larger than the false one. There was little to distinguish the two doors, and no enemies had issued forth from either, despite the commotion of our battle. In the end I chose that we would head to the right, for that door stood slightly ajar, suggesting that it might have been used more recently.
In this supposition, I was correct, for the door opened into a chamber some twenty feet to a side, in which stood an array of enemies. There were five goblins amongst the foe, but these were not the true challenge to be faced: behind them stood a pair of hobgoblins, proud and tall, and I knew we had found the leaders of this band.
The first of the two was close to seven feet in height, and dressed in a mighty suit of plate armour. He clasped a massive greatsword in his hands. His compatriot was less tall, though still taller than most men, and bore no armour or weapons. Instead, he wore the robes of a wizard or scholar, and he quickly proved he was the former, as he spoke words of arcane power, and hurled a mighty bolt of lightning against us.
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Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
Wow, another awesome story hour. Interesting perspective(s), quality writing.
But let's not forget the campaign! The padre should be commended. The mystery of the swamp is intriguing. The "before" and "after" maps are stunning in their scope--the "after" image shows a town and entire region submerged under a new encroachment of the sea. What magic could cause such a massive change to the landscape, and why was it wielded?
-z
But let's not forget the campaign! The padre should be commended. The mystery of the swamp is intriguing. The "before" and "after" maps are stunning in their scope--the "after" image shows a town and entire region submerged under a new encroachment of the sea. What magic could cause such a massive change to the landscape, and why was it wielded?
-z
Capellan
Explorer
Lela said:
You've forgotten them
EDIT: As of October '04, these links no longer work. I'll try and find a new place to link the files when i get home, just before Xmas.
Current Map of Saltmarsh Area
Old Map of Saltmarsh Area
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Capellan
Explorer
Kull's 10th Report - Part 3
Hextor's providence protected me, and the lightning passed me by, without harm. It raged over both Ulfgar and Dargrim, but each managed to protect himself from it to some extent, reducing the harm they suffered.
I have grown used to Ulfgar as a taciturn, despondent companion, but that dull gloom sometimes becomes a fierce anger, and so it was this day: he sprang forward into the midst of the enemy, laying about him with his sword. For my own part, I saw clear to a less fierce - but more effective – tactic. Dargrim stepped before me, blocking the door with his stout body and even stouter shield, and I invoked Hextor's power, sealing the enemy's position in a globe of inviolate silence. At this single stroke, one of our opponents was nullified: no more spells would pass the wizard's lips.
The huge fighter, however, was by no means inhibited by this act, and he charged forward to engage Dargrim, seeking to drive us back and give his compatriot a place to use his magic. There was a shower of sparks as their blades met, then another as he slammed his sword against Dargrim's shield. The first blow fell silently; the second rang with the sound of steel on steel, and I called for the dwarf to hold his ground, while conjuring a glowing flail in the air to strike at our enemy.
And thus was this fight of two halves joined: in the silent room, Ulfgar battled the goblins, while at the doorway, Dargrim and I faced their leader. At first, it seemed as if my invocation of silence would be enough to win the day: the wizard had been eliminated from the fight, and Ulfgar quickly felled two of the goblins. As soon as he joined the fight against the hobgoblin fighter, I knew the battle would be won.
But as the hobgoblin's blows fell like hammers on Dargrim's shield and armour, I could see that the fight was still in the balance. Ulfgar had felled a third goblin, but he bled from many wounds, and his own attacks were no longer as strong and accurate as they had been. He would not come to Dargrim's aid in time: in fact, as he took another injury, I began to wonder if he would come to Dargrim's aid at all.
But Hextor grants us many tools with which to win our battles, and the sphere of silence was merely the first I had used. Seeing the strength of the enemy's mighty sword, I spoke the words of breaking, sending Our Lord's power forth to shatter the steel like glass. The huge hobgoblin reeled back, with only the stump of the blade in his hand.
Desperation now moved the foe, and the wizard dashed past his fighter companion, rushing through the words of a spell as he managed to squeeze into an area where speech could be used. As the words of the incantation finished, Dargrim's limbs locked in place, leaving him helpless as a statue. Ulfgar, however, was far from helpless, and the wizard's desperate move had left him open to the dwarf's blade: he staggered now as Ulfgar cut him deeply, though he did not fall.
Or perhaps I should say, he did not fall then. Instead, he had the ignominy of living a few seconds more: just long enough to see my invocation to Hextor blast away his paralysing magic, before the glowing flail I had summoned stove in his skull.
For all this, the fight was still not won. The huge hobgoblin was reduced to the use of a dagger, but together with the last of his goblin followers, he knocked Ulfgar to the ground, the dwarf falling victim of his own recklessness and the power of a more skilful warrior.
In truth, I think I too often rely on the strength of my arm, rather than the strength and power that Hextor grants us, but against this foe I did not make that error. I invoked our Lord again, sending the pain and confusion of battle into the mind of my foe. I saw him sway, his eyes glazing as he tried to fight my curse, but his will could never match that of Hextor, and he stumbled, shaking his head as he tried to clear the pain and remember his purpose.
It was enough to hold him from stabbing the fallen Ulfgar, though his goblin companion was not restrained, and sank a blade into the dwarf's side. I have little personal liking for the follower of Fharlanghn, but he has been a sturdy servant of my cause, and I would not lose his sword, if I can prevent it. Knowing that the foul goblin would strike again, I summoned forth a great dire wolf from the stables of Our Lord, and it tore the weakling creature asunder.
Dargrim stepped forward, moving to engage hobgoblin, who still struggled with the curse of pain and confusion I had laid upon him. Often, his blows would falter and be forgotten, as he tried to remember his purpose and intent. But, even with the wolf now tearing at his back, he stood his ground, barring the way forward, and Dargrim could not force a path to Ulfgar's side, as the dwarf slipped closer to death.
Hextor's providence protected me, and the lightning passed me by, without harm. It raged over both Ulfgar and Dargrim, but each managed to protect himself from it to some extent, reducing the harm they suffered.
I have grown used to Ulfgar as a taciturn, despondent companion, but that dull gloom sometimes becomes a fierce anger, and so it was this day: he sprang forward into the midst of the enemy, laying about him with his sword. For my own part, I saw clear to a less fierce - but more effective – tactic. Dargrim stepped before me, blocking the door with his stout body and even stouter shield, and I invoked Hextor's power, sealing the enemy's position in a globe of inviolate silence. At this single stroke, one of our opponents was nullified: no more spells would pass the wizard's lips.
The huge fighter, however, was by no means inhibited by this act, and he charged forward to engage Dargrim, seeking to drive us back and give his compatriot a place to use his magic. There was a shower of sparks as their blades met, then another as he slammed his sword against Dargrim's shield. The first blow fell silently; the second rang with the sound of steel on steel, and I called for the dwarf to hold his ground, while conjuring a glowing flail in the air to strike at our enemy.
And thus was this fight of two halves joined: in the silent room, Ulfgar battled the goblins, while at the doorway, Dargrim and I faced their leader. At first, it seemed as if my invocation of silence would be enough to win the day: the wizard had been eliminated from the fight, and Ulfgar quickly felled two of the goblins. As soon as he joined the fight against the hobgoblin fighter, I knew the battle would be won.
But as the hobgoblin's blows fell like hammers on Dargrim's shield and armour, I could see that the fight was still in the balance. Ulfgar had felled a third goblin, but he bled from many wounds, and his own attacks were no longer as strong and accurate as they had been. He would not come to Dargrim's aid in time: in fact, as he took another injury, I began to wonder if he would come to Dargrim's aid at all.
But Hextor grants us many tools with which to win our battles, and the sphere of silence was merely the first I had used. Seeing the strength of the enemy's mighty sword, I spoke the words of breaking, sending Our Lord's power forth to shatter the steel like glass. The huge hobgoblin reeled back, with only the stump of the blade in his hand.
Desperation now moved the foe, and the wizard dashed past his fighter companion, rushing through the words of a spell as he managed to squeeze into an area where speech could be used. As the words of the incantation finished, Dargrim's limbs locked in place, leaving him helpless as a statue. Ulfgar, however, was far from helpless, and the wizard's desperate move had left him open to the dwarf's blade: he staggered now as Ulfgar cut him deeply, though he did not fall.
Or perhaps I should say, he did not fall then. Instead, he had the ignominy of living a few seconds more: just long enough to see my invocation to Hextor blast away his paralysing magic, before the glowing flail I had summoned stove in his skull.
For all this, the fight was still not won. The huge hobgoblin was reduced to the use of a dagger, but together with the last of his goblin followers, he knocked Ulfgar to the ground, the dwarf falling victim of his own recklessness and the power of a more skilful warrior.
In truth, I think I too often rely on the strength of my arm, rather than the strength and power that Hextor grants us, but against this foe I did not make that error. I invoked our Lord again, sending the pain and confusion of battle into the mind of my foe. I saw him sway, his eyes glazing as he tried to fight my curse, but his will could never match that of Hextor, and he stumbled, shaking his head as he tried to clear the pain and remember his purpose.
It was enough to hold him from stabbing the fallen Ulfgar, though his goblin companion was not restrained, and sank a blade into the dwarf's side. I have little personal liking for the follower of Fharlanghn, but he has been a sturdy servant of my cause, and I would not lose his sword, if I can prevent it. Knowing that the foul goblin would strike again, I summoned forth a great dire wolf from the stables of Our Lord, and it tore the weakling creature asunder.
Dargrim stepped forward, moving to engage hobgoblin, who still struggled with the curse of pain and confusion I had laid upon him. Often, his blows would falter and be forgotten, as he tried to remember his purpose and intent. But, even with the wolf now tearing at his back, he stood his ground, barring the way forward, and Dargrim could not force a path to Ulfgar's side, as the dwarf slipped closer to death.
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