Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
the Jester
Legend
They Delved Too Deep
Deep within the Bloody Fist, the dwarves have mined for decades. Iron, gold, silver; all of these have been brought forth from the bones of the mountain. As the finished out one vein, they would follow another. Deeper and deeper they followed the metals, digging out lower and lower levels of the mountain. As they descended into the roots of the Bloody Fist, they built elevator rooms to allow for easy transport of ore to the smelters above, and then laster smelters on the lower levels. Cunning dwarven craft allowed much to be taken from the mountain that other miners would have missed.
Then they delved too deep, and something became aware of the dwarves. A party of miners descended into a newly-discovered cavern and their wills were seized. Enslaved by some terrible entity, they lured other dwarves to a similar fate; and unbeknownst to the dwarves above a terrible chain of sacrifice began, as one by one they began feeding themselves to their new master. A small group at the edge of the master’s control served to lure others in.
Above, meanwhile, the dwarves were busy- distracted by the northern faction of the invasion fleet from Zacradose. After a brilliant battle, the forces of the Fist smashed the Zacradosians against the edge of the mountain. Dwarven war craft is very strong, much like their mining lore.
When finally the fact that something was terribly wrong in the mines below came to the attention of the dwarves above, they were weary and preparing for the arrival of the embassy from Sritivara. Alliance against outsiders attempting to control the dwarves’ home seemed like a good idea to Hilge.
And that’s about where our heroes entered the picture.
***
10/16/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist
The marvels of the dwarven elevators, architecture and stone craft are not entirely lost on our heroes, but that’s nothing compared to how bad dwarven food is. Once they reach the deep levels of the mountain, they almost immediately encounter the miners that are used to lure others in. But our heroes are forewarned, and in a few battering moments, one miner is out cold and the other is a prisoner. Though he is fairly unresponsive, Federico does manage to suggest to the prisoner that he tell them all about the ‘new master’ that he mentions.
“Oh....” The dwarf shudders, then smiles happily. “He’s a... a mauve-skinned tentacled monster,” he says. His face contorts in horror for an instant, then snaps back into a smile.
Federico starts to shake.
“I wonder what that could be?” Sandy muses.
“I’ve heard a few tales,” Feddie whimpers. “They’re called mind flayers, and they eat your brains!!!”
“Damn it, everything wants to eat us!” exclaims Beau. “It just isn’t right!”
“Well, that’s probably the root of the dwarven problem then,” Ezeekiel remarks. “This thing can obviously control minds; let’s do what we can to protect against that.”
After some discussion, Hortense lays a magic circle against evil on both Jawbreaker and Ezeekiel. She tells them, “One of you stay in the front, one in the back; that way everyone stays close enough that they’re in the spell’s radius. As long as you are in the spell, you should be warded against direct mind control.”
Then they plunge forward. Deep have the dwarves delved, and deep have the halflings come. Soon, as they walk forward, they are ambushed by a pair of bizarre creatures. To all appearances, they are brains on legs. The little brain-dogs use mental powers to try to control our heroes, but the magic circles foil them. They prove as tough as iron when our heroes move to the attack, and then one of the brains blasts Beau and Jawbreaker with a psionic attack via id insinuation! Jawbreaker begins babbling about nothing, while Beau lurches over to Humphrey and hits him with a shocking grasp.
“Ow!” the druid cries, then blasts one of the brains with a flame strike. It finally dies. The other one finally falls to a perfect shot from Martini’s skilled archery. Then it’s simply a matter of restraining the confused folks for a few moments while they come back to themselves.
“What were those things?” wonders Sandy.
“I think they’re called intellect devourers,” Federico responds. Once again, bardic knowledge proves its worth.
The party moves deeper yet. Their mission is to recover as many of the dwarves alive as they can, and if possible destroy the entity behind it all. Soon they have a major catch, as they find a group of thralls sent to ambush them. One of them is a warrior of some kind, wearing armor, unlike the enthralled miners (who are dressed in doughty helmets and pads, but not actual armor). Our heroes fight with the flat of their blades, striking to knock their foes out rather than to kill.* Federico uses sleep to great effect. Even the warrior falls easily before brave Chief Jawbreaker.
When all is said and done, our heroes have seven dwarven prisoners that they have liberated and one unfortunate corpse. They laboriously return to the elevator with them, then head back up to the Bloody Fist’s upper levels, where Hilge is delighted at their results so far and dismayed by the news they bring. “A mind flayer!” she exclaims. “Damn, that’s bad news.” She looks grim, stroking her beard in thought.
Our heroes are tired. They decide to rest, since they’re safe up above, and prepare to descend again on the morrow.
Next Time: The mind flayer!
*This was Hortense’s first chance to use one of her prestige class abilities, which lets her strike for nonlethal damage without taking a penalty.
Deep within the Bloody Fist, the dwarves have mined for decades. Iron, gold, silver; all of these have been brought forth from the bones of the mountain. As the finished out one vein, they would follow another. Deeper and deeper they followed the metals, digging out lower and lower levels of the mountain. As they descended into the roots of the Bloody Fist, they built elevator rooms to allow for easy transport of ore to the smelters above, and then laster smelters on the lower levels. Cunning dwarven craft allowed much to be taken from the mountain that other miners would have missed.
Then they delved too deep, and something became aware of the dwarves. A party of miners descended into a newly-discovered cavern and their wills were seized. Enslaved by some terrible entity, they lured other dwarves to a similar fate; and unbeknownst to the dwarves above a terrible chain of sacrifice began, as one by one they began feeding themselves to their new master. A small group at the edge of the master’s control served to lure others in.
Above, meanwhile, the dwarves were busy- distracted by the northern faction of the invasion fleet from Zacradose. After a brilliant battle, the forces of the Fist smashed the Zacradosians against the edge of the mountain. Dwarven war craft is very strong, much like their mining lore.
When finally the fact that something was terribly wrong in the mines below came to the attention of the dwarves above, they were weary and preparing for the arrival of the embassy from Sritivara. Alliance against outsiders attempting to control the dwarves’ home seemed like a good idea to Hilge.
And that’s about where our heroes entered the picture.
***
10/16/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist
The marvels of the dwarven elevators, architecture and stone craft are not entirely lost on our heroes, but that’s nothing compared to how bad dwarven food is. Once they reach the deep levels of the mountain, they almost immediately encounter the miners that are used to lure others in. But our heroes are forewarned, and in a few battering moments, one miner is out cold and the other is a prisoner. Though he is fairly unresponsive, Federico does manage to suggest to the prisoner that he tell them all about the ‘new master’ that he mentions.
“Oh....” The dwarf shudders, then smiles happily. “He’s a... a mauve-skinned tentacled monster,” he says. His face contorts in horror for an instant, then snaps back into a smile.
Federico starts to shake.
“I wonder what that could be?” Sandy muses.
“I’ve heard a few tales,” Feddie whimpers. “They’re called mind flayers, and they eat your brains!!!”
“Damn it, everything wants to eat us!” exclaims Beau. “It just isn’t right!”
“Well, that’s probably the root of the dwarven problem then,” Ezeekiel remarks. “This thing can obviously control minds; let’s do what we can to protect against that.”
After some discussion, Hortense lays a magic circle against evil on both Jawbreaker and Ezeekiel. She tells them, “One of you stay in the front, one in the back; that way everyone stays close enough that they’re in the spell’s radius. As long as you are in the spell, you should be warded against direct mind control.”
Then they plunge forward. Deep have the dwarves delved, and deep have the halflings come. Soon, as they walk forward, they are ambushed by a pair of bizarre creatures. To all appearances, they are brains on legs. The little brain-dogs use mental powers to try to control our heroes, but the magic circles foil them. They prove as tough as iron when our heroes move to the attack, and then one of the brains blasts Beau and Jawbreaker with a psionic attack via id insinuation! Jawbreaker begins babbling about nothing, while Beau lurches over to Humphrey and hits him with a shocking grasp.
“Ow!” the druid cries, then blasts one of the brains with a flame strike. It finally dies. The other one finally falls to a perfect shot from Martini’s skilled archery. Then it’s simply a matter of restraining the confused folks for a few moments while they come back to themselves.
“What were those things?” wonders Sandy.
“I think they’re called intellect devourers,” Federico responds. Once again, bardic knowledge proves its worth.
The party moves deeper yet. Their mission is to recover as many of the dwarves alive as they can, and if possible destroy the entity behind it all. Soon they have a major catch, as they find a group of thralls sent to ambush them. One of them is a warrior of some kind, wearing armor, unlike the enthralled miners (who are dressed in doughty helmets and pads, but not actual armor). Our heroes fight with the flat of their blades, striking to knock their foes out rather than to kill.* Federico uses sleep to great effect. Even the warrior falls easily before brave Chief Jawbreaker.
When all is said and done, our heroes have seven dwarven prisoners that they have liberated and one unfortunate corpse. They laboriously return to the elevator with them, then head back up to the Bloody Fist’s upper levels, where Hilge is delighted at their results so far and dismayed by the news they bring. “A mind flayer!” she exclaims. “Damn, that’s bad news.” She looks grim, stroking her beard in thought.
Our heroes are tired. They decide to rest, since they’re safe up above, and prepare to descend again on the morrow.
Next Time: The mind flayer!
*This was Hortense’s first chance to use one of her prestige class abilities, which lets her strike for nonlethal damage without taking a penalty.
the Jester
Legend
Plan on seeing the mind flayer's update (from its point of view, no less 
) later today.
In the meantime, I just wanted to point out that I ran this game the day before I got Lords of Madness, or there would prolly have been some other freakish aberration-related stuff from it in here somewhere. Shrug. Timing sucked. Oh well, I'm certain I'll get some good use out of it sometime.
) later today.In the meantime, I just wanted to point out that I ran this game the day before I got Lords of Madness, or there would prolly have been some other freakish aberration-related stuff from it in here somewhere. Shrug. Timing sucked. Oh well, I'm certain I'll get some good use out of it sometime.
the Jester
Legend
The Mind Flayer
10/17/369 O.L.G, 1 p.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist
Contemplation. Thralls taken away, and now the bright points of intellect that did it are coming again. Minds with no power- save one. Study it. Study it. Some psionic potential, but infinitesimal. Perhaps someday... if I do not take it as my next meal. It has been a very long time since a tangy treat like that been lovingly extracted by my tentacles.
Pause. A thought, sent racing through the warrens, to summon the ceremorphized primitives. They will guard against crude physical attacks. Surely the spots of intelligence will realize, once I have caressed their minds with my own puissance, that their true place is at my feet. They have taken away many larger, stronger thralls already, but that one with a spark of psychic ability would be worth the loss. It has been so long since I have eaten such a delicacy!
Ahh, I can hear the screams through my mind. One of them is being consumed by a dungeon-dwelling slime. Will they save him in time? It spreads quickly; even my kind fear the touch of green slime. But yes, one of them has done it with their slave-magic. Begged from a vast power! How primitive. The recognition that all power comes from within is necessary to achieve sentience. Primitives such as these, even the psionic one, will never truly climb that ladder. They are too caught up in their primitive drives and emotions.
My guard-thralls arrive. Taken from their warrens in the places deeper still within the rock, then ceremorphized into a more pleasing and effective form, they are effective guards and useful thralls. And they will no doubt have to prove their worth again today, for my would-be attackers are coming forward again.
Twisting through the tunnels and caves they come. Soon they will arrive. I move my thralls to the appropriate positions, where they will be able to prevent the primitives from reaching me.
None of the oncoming attackers is human. A shame; it would be ideal to be able to ceremorphize one of them. Then there would be a second sentient being here, and together we could begin the process of growth and expansion. For this island does have humans; they must simply be lured, and then my community can begin to grow strong. There are plenty of tadpoles; there is room for many of us; there are plenty of primitives to provide thralls and food. I would be first to die, and my brain would be the seed of the new community’s Elder Brain.
With patience, all things shall come to me.
Just as these primitives are coming. My thralls sense them, too; and- now!
The lead one reeks of mammal sweat. Feathers and fur adorn it. It does not even have the think veneer of civilzation that most of these things have adopted by instinct. I reach out to grasp its will in my mental fist, to command it to do my will. Its face changes to a purple hue and it lets out a loud exclamation of rage. I can feel its surprising mental strength. Worse, overlaying it, I can feel a magical field that will prevent mind control. Surprised, I withdraw my psionic attack. Let the thralls deal with it. They move in, surrounding it-
Its rage blossoms. A thrill of pain shoots through my abstract lobe at the force of it. The primitive suddenly changes. It doubles, nearly triples in height, broadens, grows coarse fur. It is- a bear?? The body of an animal on the tiny bit of consciousness that was that primitive. Interesting. It bears vivisection. Surely my slaves will-
The bear smashes down two of the three thralls in a single mighty blow.
I am shocked. My defenses are crumbling much too quickly. This is unacceptable! They must be stopped. There are other primitives advancing behind the bear, burning with bright devotion to the fight against me.
Why must these unintelligent creatures fear and hate my kind and I? Why can they not recognize their place in the universe? They follow their instincts and raise cattle, birds, food animals of their own; why can they not see that, above them in that same chain, are we?
It is precisely because they follow their instincts. If they were rational, thinking beings they would understand. But of course, if they were rational, thinking beings- they would be illithid.
I clench my mental fist, and a cone of psionic energy ripples out, washing over the attackers. But surprisingly, they all withstand it. Suddenly they are coming forward at me!
No!! I am delicate! Stay back!!!
A blow from the bear knocks me a few feet. Then one of them fires an arrow that lands in my thigh. I need only a moment to escape, only a moment! Just a moment to concentrate... I stagger away as another of the little monsters hacks at me with an axe. No, you little primitive, stay back! Get away from me! Yes, that’s batter- a little distance- but-
The whoosh of flames rushes down at me from above. My innate ability to resist magic does not protect me this time. It is terrible- a horrifying agony. I can feel the slime on my body drying and cracking as I catch fire.
My dreams, my hopes... they will never be fulfilled now. I cannot see through the flames. I can feel my tentacles shriveling. I am weakening.
Oh, you primitives! Someday you must realize you are nothing but food!
I die.
Next Time: The party plays in a pool full of tadpoles! Then there’s trouble at sea!
10/17/369 O.L.G, 1 p.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist
Contemplation. Thralls taken away, and now the bright points of intellect that did it are coming again. Minds with no power- save one. Study it. Study it. Some psionic potential, but infinitesimal. Perhaps someday... if I do not take it as my next meal. It has been a very long time since a tangy treat like that been lovingly extracted by my tentacles.
Pause. A thought, sent racing through the warrens, to summon the ceremorphized primitives. They will guard against crude physical attacks. Surely the spots of intelligence will realize, once I have caressed their minds with my own puissance, that their true place is at my feet. They have taken away many larger, stronger thralls already, but that one with a spark of psychic ability would be worth the loss. It has been so long since I have eaten such a delicacy!
Ahh, I can hear the screams through my mind. One of them is being consumed by a dungeon-dwelling slime. Will they save him in time? It spreads quickly; even my kind fear the touch of green slime. But yes, one of them has done it with their slave-magic. Begged from a vast power! How primitive. The recognition that all power comes from within is necessary to achieve sentience. Primitives such as these, even the psionic one, will never truly climb that ladder. They are too caught up in their primitive drives and emotions.
My guard-thralls arrive. Taken from their warrens in the places deeper still within the rock, then ceremorphized into a more pleasing and effective form, they are effective guards and useful thralls. And they will no doubt have to prove their worth again today, for my would-be attackers are coming forward again.
Twisting through the tunnels and caves they come. Soon they will arrive. I move my thralls to the appropriate positions, where they will be able to prevent the primitives from reaching me.
None of the oncoming attackers is human. A shame; it would be ideal to be able to ceremorphize one of them. Then there would be a second sentient being here, and together we could begin the process of growth and expansion. For this island does have humans; they must simply be lured, and then my community can begin to grow strong. There are plenty of tadpoles; there is room for many of us; there are plenty of primitives to provide thralls and food. I would be first to die, and my brain would be the seed of the new community’s Elder Brain.
With patience, all things shall come to me.
Just as these primitives are coming. My thralls sense them, too; and- now!
The lead one reeks of mammal sweat. Feathers and fur adorn it. It does not even have the think veneer of civilzation that most of these things have adopted by instinct. I reach out to grasp its will in my mental fist, to command it to do my will. Its face changes to a purple hue and it lets out a loud exclamation of rage. I can feel its surprising mental strength. Worse, overlaying it, I can feel a magical field that will prevent mind control. Surprised, I withdraw my psionic attack. Let the thralls deal with it. They move in, surrounding it-
Its rage blossoms. A thrill of pain shoots through my abstract lobe at the force of it. The primitive suddenly changes. It doubles, nearly triples in height, broadens, grows coarse fur. It is- a bear?? The body of an animal on the tiny bit of consciousness that was that primitive. Interesting. It bears vivisection. Surely my slaves will-
The bear smashes down two of the three thralls in a single mighty blow.
I am shocked. My defenses are crumbling much too quickly. This is unacceptable! They must be stopped. There are other primitives advancing behind the bear, burning with bright devotion to the fight against me.
Why must these unintelligent creatures fear and hate my kind and I? Why can they not recognize their place in the universe? They follow their instincts and raise cattle, birds, food animals of their own; why can they not see that, above them in that same chain, are we?
It is precisely because they follow their instincts. If they were rational, thinking beings they would understand. But of course, if they were rational, thinking beings- they would be illithid.
I clench my mental fist, and a cone of psionic energy ripples out, washing over the attackers. But surprisingly, they all withstand it. Suddenly they are coming forward at me!
No!! I am delicate! Stay back!!!
A blow from the bear knocks me a few feet. Then one of them fires an arrow that lands in my thigh. I need only a moment to escape, only a moment! Just a moment to concentrate... I stagger away as another of the little monsters hacks at me with an axe. No, you little primitive, stay back! Get away from me! Yes, that’s batter- a little distance- but-
The whoosh of flames rushes down at me from above. My innate ability to resist magic does not protect me this time. It is terrible- a horrifying agony. I can feel the slime on my body drying and cracking as I catch fire.
My dreams, my hopes... they will never be fulfilled now. I cannot see through the flames. I can feel my tentacles shriveling. I am weakening.
Oh, you primitives! Someday you must realize you are nothing but food!
I die.
Next Time: The party plays in a pool full of tadpoles! Then there’s trouble at sea!
the Jester
Legend
The Tadpole Pool
Admittedly it's a little short, but here's another update before we start playing the high-level party today...
***
Our heroes stand over the crumpled form of the hideous, mauve-skinned monster that had seized control of the dwarven miners deep beneath the Bloody Fist. They have overcome the threat and rescued most of the dwarven captives.
But their job is not yet done.
Beneath a trap door they discover a horrible pool of brine, thriving with little ochre four-tailed tadpoles. On the shore are a pair of huddled forms, somewhere in between lizard folk and the half-mind flayer abominations that had guarded the illithid above. They slay the slowly transforming creatures, then turn their attention to the pool. After resting and recovering spells, Hortense lowers the water level enough that the party can slog through it, killing all the tadpoles they can. Dozens, then hundreds, of the little things are squished, slashed or stabbed. For hours the party works at their grim task, finally stopping when Hortense’s spell wears off. By then they are sure that they have killed most of the tadpoles, but as the little buggers move, it’s not hard to realize that some of them might have slipped through the party’s grasp.
Nonetheless, they adjudge that they have done all they can; and soon they are marching back up the laborious passages leading to the great elevator. Within another hour they have reached the upper halls of the Bloody Fist, and an hour after that- having had baths, a change of clothes and a quick snack- our mighty band of halflings comes before Hilge Urnskurm. She is more than pleased at their success and announces her intention to send an embassy back to Sritivara in order to ascertain how best the Bloody Fist can aid the cause.
***
The party is awarded medals by the dwarves. Then the group makes their farewells. They are still nervous about Sritivara falling apart again in their absence. They head north to a town on the coast called Methwo, and from there they charter a boat back to Sritivara. They keep a low profile in Methwo, as they do not wish to alienate yet another community.
***
10/22/369 O.L.G., 7 a.m., the Sea Snake
The merchant ship pulls smoothly away from the harbor. The morning sun has emerged from its sleep beneath the waves in the east, continuing its revolution around faraway Forinthia. Our heroes are safely aboard. Sailors hustle about, hoisting this or tying that, and there is much friendly cursing. The day is overcast but warm, and it spits drops of rain for a few moments once. The Sea Snake sails out about three miles, then turns to the west and begins following the coastline as it gradually curves towards the south. Our heroes mostly stay below, out of the way, but Humphrey prefers to be outside, on deck if not flying about as a seagull.
Evening finally comes, and is rapidly followed by night. The stars draw across the sky like a curtain. Most of the crew rests, with a few men awake on watch or simply up drinking. Several of our heroes sleep on deck.
As the ship’s lanterns are extinguished, no one has a clue as to how dangerous the night will prove.
***
10/23/369 O.L.G., around 4 a.m.
Martini’s eyes open, from the depths of sleep.
What was that?
He remains where he is: on deck, against a netted-down pallet of some kind of cargo. He opens his senses. Something woke him, some preternatural sound...
There it is, he thinks. It’s so faint I can barely hear it. It’s almost like... singing. He springs silently up and walks to the forecastle of the ship. One man is on watch at the wheel, another in the crow’s nest. Softly, he calls up to the man in the ‘nest. “Do you hear that?”
But it is too faint. Neither of the sailors hears anything at first. But the sound slowly grows louder, and the man at the wheel finally exclaims, “He’s right- I hear it now! Just barely, but it’s there... it’s beautiful, too.”
“Be careful- try not to get too close to it,” cautions Martini, moving to wake his companions on the deck. He knows trouble when he comes across it. And soon the sound is loud enough that they can all hear it plainly.
“Maybe you should change course,” suggests Beau to the helmsman.
”So... beautiful,” the man gasps.
“Aw, crap,” moans Beau.
Then suddenly, there is a terrible lurch as something in the water grabs the ship! Great blue-green tentacles wrap around the vessel, and just about everyone on deck is thrown from their feet; only Martini maintains his balance.
And then the great deadly battle of the feyipus begins.
Next Time: Oh no, a grappling monster! You know what that means, right? If there’s climbing or grappling, halflings die!
Admittedly it's a little short, but here's another update before we start playing the high-level party today...
***
Our heroes stand over the crumpled form of the hideous, mauve-skinned monster that had seized control of the dwarven miners deep beneath the Bloody Fist. They have overcome the threat and rescued most of the dwarven captives.
But their job is not yet done.
Beneath a trap door they discover a horrible pool of brine, thriving with little ochre four-tailed tadpoles. On the shore are a pair of huddled forms, somewhere in between lizard folk and the half-mind flayer abominations that had guarded the illithid above. They slay the slowly transforming creatures, then turn their attention to the pool. After resting and recovering spells, Hortense lowers the water level enough that the party can slog through it, killing all the tadpoles they can. Dozens, then hundreds, of the little things are squished, slashed or stabbed. For hours the party works at their grim task, finally stopping when Hortense’s spell wears off. By then they are sure that they have killed most of the tadpoles, but as the little buggers move, it’s not hard to realize that some of them might have slipped through the party’s grasp.
Nonetheless, they adjudge that they have done all they can; and soon they are marching back up the laborious passages leading to the great elevator. Within another hour they have reached the upper halls of the Bloody Fist, and an hour after that- having had baths, a change of clothes and a quick snack- our mighty band of halflings comes before Hilge Urnskurm. She is more than pleased at their success and announces her intention to send an embassy back to Sritivara in order to ascertain how best the Bloody Fist can aid the cause.
***
The party is awarded medals by the dwarves. Then the group makes their farewells. They are still nervous about Sritivara falling apart again in their absence. They head north to a town on the coast called Methwo, and from there they charter a boat back to Sritivara. They keep a low profile in Methwo, as they do not wish to alienate yet another community.
***
10/22/369 O.L.G., 7 a.m., the Sea Snake
The merchant ship pulls smoothly away from the harbor. The morning sun has emerged from its sleep beneath the waves in the east, continuing its revolution around faraway Forinthia. Our heroes are safely aboard. Sailors hustle about, hoisting this or tying that, and there is much friendly cursing. The day is overcast but warm, and it spits drops of rain for a few moments once. The Sea Snake sails out about three miles, then turns to the west and begins following the coastline as it gradually curves towards the south. Our heroes mostly stay below, out of the way, but Humphrey prefers to be outside, on deck if not flying about as a seagull.
Evening finally comes, and is rapidly followed by night. The stars draw across the sky like a curtain. Most of the crew rests, with a few men awake on watch or simply up drinking. Several of our heroes sleep on deck.
As the ship’s lanterns are extinguished, no one has a clue as to how dangerous the night will prove.
***
10/23/369 O.L.G., around 4 a.m.
Martini’s eyes open, from the depths of sleep.
What was that?
He remains where he is: on deck, against a netted-down pallet of some kind of cargo. He opens his senses. Something woke him, some preternatural sound...
There it is, he thinks. It’s so faint I can barely hear it. It’s almost like... singing. He springs silently up and walks to the forecastle of the ship. One man is on watch at the wheel, another in the crow’s nest. Softly, he calls up to the man in the ‘nest. “Do you hear that?”
But it is too faint. Neither of the sailors hears anything at first. But the sound slowly grows louder, and the man at the wheel finally exclaims, “He’s right- I hear it now! Just barely, but it’s there... it’s beautiful, too.”
“Be careful- try not to get too close to it,” cautions Martini, moving to wake his companions on the deck. He knows trouble when he comes across it. And soon the sound is loud enough that they can all hear it plainly.
“Maybe you should change course,” suggests Beau to the helmsman.
”So... beautiful,” the man gasps.
“Aw, crap,” moans Beau.
Then suddenly, there is a terrible lurch as something in the water grabs the ship! Great blue-green tentacles wrap around the vessel, and just about everyone on deck is thrown from their feet; only Martini maintains his balance.
And then the great deadly battle of the feyipus begins.
Next Time: Oh no, a grappling monster! You know what that means, right? If there’s climbing or grappling, halflings die!
the Jester
Legend
Trouble At Sea
Timbers shatter! Wood splinters! Water surges, sloshing into the guts of the ship! Our soundtrack is the terrified screams of sailors laid over the background noise of the sea. And over it all, the singing of the feyipus- an enchanting, alien sound that wraps the sailors’ minds around it like a bandage bound tight to a festering wound.
A pair of great slimy green tentacles is wrapped around the foredeck of the ship, cracking the planks. Martini takes careful aim as his friends desperately try to scramble to their feet, and then he lets his shaft fly! The arrow sinks fletching-deep into the feyipus’ tentacle. The greenish flesh quivers for a moment, and the singing stops for a moment.
Then the monster utters a terrible howl that kills several sailors. Most of our heroes are caught by the blast as well, and the terrible cry smashes into them in a wave of loud agony. Then Arthur On-Tap gives a despairing shout as he is plucked from the deck and dangled in mid-air by another of the tentacles! Our heroes have begun to fight back, unlimbering axes and firing magic missiles, but the monster proves somewhat resistant to both blows and magic! Beau starts to sweat as his spells bounce off it, and Jawbreaker curses when he discovers his bow isn’t going to hurt it.
Then he rushes forward with a howling scream.
More tentacles are smashing, grasping, taking sailors. One wraps around Ezeekiel and jerks him into the sea. “NO!” cries Hortense, “We have to save him!” Humphrey blasts it with an ineffective flame strike.
Martini fires another ranged precision shot, opting to try to inflict as much damage as possible in one shot to penetrate its ability to shrug off weapon damage. He springs aside as a tentacle lashes out at him, but it grabs him around the leg and pulls him off the ship! Now the monster has Arthur, Ezeekiel and Martini in its grasp. Seemingly satisfied with its meal- or perhaps unhappy about the number of blows that have wounded it, mostly from Martini and Jawbreaker- the feyipus starts to withdraw, loosening its hold on the badly damaged Sea Snake.
“Don’t let it get away!” cries Hortense.
Arthur has been squirming in the monster’s grasp for a while now. He’s terrified- Halfings eat octopus, not the other way around! he gibbers inwardly- but that actually helps him. As it squeezes him again he vomits up a gout of the rum and fishy stew he’s been consuming on the ship and uses the added slipperiness it gives him to slip free of the feyipus’ grasp, dropping into the ocean gasping for breath. As the monster is distracted by Arthur’s escape, Martini manages to force its tentacle to release him, as well, as he falls into the water with a splash!
Zeke is being squeezed incredibly hard. He channels, establishing divine vigor, choosing to attempt to sustain himself rather than to try to break free- something he seriously doubts he can do.
On the deck, Federico is screaming at the sailors, “The hull’s breached! The hull’s breached!” He’s running around with his hands in the air in a near-panic. The feyipus- Ezeekiel firmly grappled by its tentacle- descends into the water, which promptly turns black as the monster releases its ink.
“No! We have to save him!” cries Hortense.
“I’m on it!” cries Humphrey, casting water breathing on the party. Then he turns and leaps into the water, wild shaping into a dolphin as he enters the water.
Jawbreaker dives into the dark water, but the feyipus has already jetted away. Spluttering with anger, the barbarian begins swimming forward, strongly, hoping to spot it. He looks left and right constantly. Hortense has leapt into the water as well, attempting to use detect evil for guidance. Beau swims slowly out too, wondering if this isn’t the most foolish idea ever. He is ready with a shocking grasp, but there is no sign of the thing...
What’s that light?
That light is a daylight spell cast by the druid Humphrey. The last, final, desparate attempt to save Ezeekiel begins, but the thing is deep and Humphrey can’t get quite close enough. The feyipus is interested only in going away and having dinner, and Humphrey can’t really blame it. By the time the distance is short enough to see Zeke’s head, he is not moving or breathing.
Heart heavy, Humphrey returns to the surface and to the ship. Federico has organized ropes and helped Martini get back aboard, and Arthur has already quaffed a potion of fly and returned to the ship as well. Several sailors are dead, and Humphrey returns empty handed.
Hortense bursts into tears. She wails, “I wanted to have his baby!”
***
10/23/269 O.L.G., 1 p.m.
The Sea Snake limps to the nearest natural harbor and the ship puts a large crew ashore to gather enough material to effect repairs. Hortense stays on board, unable to stop weeping. The others try to comfort her to no avail; she is heartbroken. It seems that a strong secret fire had burned in her breast for Ezeekiel all along. Now her heartfire has gone out, at least for the moment, and all she can do is cry.
The repairs take most of the afternoon; though the Sea Snake needs a significant amount of work to be in good shape again, she is at least seaworthy now. And so the vessel sails on through the night, finally reaching Sritivara at noon of the next day.
Next Time: Our heroes stumble into a chance at one of their collective long-term goals- a halfling war wagon!
Timbers shatter! Wood splinters! Water surges, sloshing into the guts of the ship! Our soundtrack is the terrified screams of sailors laid over the background noise of the sea. And over it all, the singing of the feyipus- an enchanting, alien sound that wraps the sailors’ minds around it like a bandage bound tight to a festering wound.
A pair of great slimy green tentacles is wrapped around the foredeck of the ship, cracking the planks. Martini takes careful aim as his friends desperately try to scramble to their feet, and then he lets his shaft fly! The arrow sinks fletching-deep into the feyipus’ tentacle. The greenish flesh quivers for a moment, and the singing stops for a moment.
Then the monster utters a terrible howl that kills several sailors. Most of our heroes are caught by the blast as well, and the terrible cry smashes into them in a wave of loud agony. Then Arthur On-Tap gives a despairing shout as he is plucked from the deck and dangled in mid-air by another of the tentacles! Our heroes have begun to fight back, unlimbering axes and firing magic missiles, but the monster proves somewhat resistant to both blows and magic! Beau starts to sweat as his spells bounce off it, and Jawbreaker curses when he discovers his bow isn’t going to hurt it.
Then he rushes forward with a howling scream.
More tentacles are smashing, grasping, taking sailors. One wraps around Ezeekiel and jerks him into the sea. “NO!” cries Hortense, “We have to save him!” Humphrey blasts it with an ineffective flame strike.
Martini fires another ranged precision shot, opting to try to inflict as much damage as possible in one shot to penetrate its ability to shrug off weapon damage. He springs aside as a tentacle lashes out at him, but it grabs him around the leg and pulls him off the ship! Now the monster has Arthur, Ezeekiel and Martini in its grasp. Seemingly satisfied with its meal- or perhaps unhappy about the number of blows that have wounded it, mostly from Martini and Jawbreaker- the feyipus starts to withdraw, loosening its hold on the badly damaged Sea Snake.
“Don’t let it get away!” cries Hortense.
Arthur has been squirming in the monster’s grasp for a while now. He’s terrified- Halfings eat octopus, not the other way around! he gibbers inwardly- but that actually helps him. As it squeezes him again he vomits up a gout of the rum and fishy stew he’s been consuming on the ship and uses the added slipperiness it gives him to slip free of the feyipus’ grasp, dropping into the ocean gasping for breath. As the monster is distracted by Arthur’s escape, Martini manages to force its tentacle to release him, as well, as he falls into the water with a splash!
Zeke is being squeezed incredibly hard. He channels, establishing divine vigor, choosing to attempt to sustain himself rather than to try to break free- something he seriously doubts he can do.
On the deck, Federico is screaming at the sailors, “The hull’s breached! The hull’s breached!” He’s running around with his hands in the air in a near-panic. The feyipus- Ezeekiel firmly grappled by its tentacle- descends into the water, which promptly turns black as the monster releases its ink.
“No! We have to save him!” cries Hortense.
“I’m on it!” cries Humphrey, casting water breathing on the party. Then he turns and leaps into the water, wild shaping into a dolphin as he enters the water.
Jawbreaker dives into the dark water, but the feyipus has already jetted away. Spluttering with anger, the barbarian begins swimming forward, strongly, hoping to spot it. He looks left and right constantly. Hortense has leapt into the water as well, attempting to use detect evil for guidance. Beau swims slowly out too, wondering if this isn’t the most foolish idea ever. He is ready with a shocking grasp, but there is no sign of the thing...
What’s that light?
That light is a daylight spell cast by the druid Humphrey. The last, final, desparate attempt to save Ezeekiel begins, but the thing is deep and Humphrey can’t get quite close enough. The feyipus is interested only in going away and having dinner, and Humphrey can’t really blame it. By the time the distance is short enough to see Zeke’s head, he is not moving or breathing.
Heart heavy, Humphrey returns to the surface and to the ship. Federico has organized ropes and helped Martini get back aboard, and Arthur has already quaffed a potion of fly and returned to the ship as well. Several sailors are dead, and Humphrey returns empty handed.
Hortense bursts into tears. She wails, “I wanted to have his baby!”
***
10/23/269 O.L.G., 1 p.m.
The Sea Snake limps to the nearest natural harbor and the ship puts a large crew ashore to gather enough material to effect repairs. Hortense stays on board, unable to stop weeping. The others try to comfort her to no avail; she is heartbroken. It seems that a strong secret fire had burned in her breast for Ezeekiel all along. Now her heartfire has gone out, at least for the moment, and all she can do is cry.
The repairs take most of the afternoon; though the Sea Snake needs a significant amount of work to be in good shape again, she is at least seaworthy now. And so the vessel sails on through the night, finally reaching Sritivara at noon of the next day.
Next Time: Our heroes stumble into a chance at one of their collective long-term goals- a halfling war wagon!
Brain
First Post
Seems like the story hour is almost caught up. Nice work!
Hortense was well prepared for battle at sea, but Ezeekiel was too concerned with others and stepping forward to fight the beast. Thus he didn't get what would have been a life-saving Freedom of Movement. Instead, it went to Chief Jawbreaker.
Hortense was well prepared for battle at sea, but Ezeekiel was too concerned with others and stepping forward to fight the beast. Thus he didn't get what would have been a life-saving Freedom of Movement. Instead, it went to Chief Jawbreaker.
the Jester
Legend
Return to Sritivara
10/24/369 O.L.G, 12:20 p.m., Sritivara
Hortense is inconsolable. The loss of Ezeekiel has left her a wreck. When the party puts ashore, she tells them she has to leave. “I... need some time by myself,” she sobs. In her eyes, the words she won’t say are emblazoned: he’s gone!
Sadly, our heroes watch her go. They ache for her, and all of them feel the loss of their friend. “I’m going to get his name tattooed on my arm of dead buddies,” Sandy vows, rubbing the names already tattooed there by Naomi:Dogtooth. Ethel. Grulka.
While the others secure lodging, Naomi and Federico go to visit the new mayor of Sritivara, the civilized savage half-elf Rhudiveldan. He is pleased by their report, and he is saddened to hear of the demise of Ezeekiel. “Ezeekiel Dandybanter was well-known as a staunch member of the resistance. I understand that without his help- without all of your help- the Zacradosian occupiers might have taken over. We will not forget him.”
“Indeed, I hope not!” exclaims Federico. “In fact, I suggest that you memorialize him by renaming the town after him!”
“It’s brilliant!” Naomi crows. “Think of it! The people know he was a hero.” She adds her own psionic suggestion to reinforce the kobold’s.
“Yes- yes, I like it,” the mayor breathes. “It is brilliant.”
The meeting goes on for a few more minutes, during which time the mayor asks our heroes to keep an eye out at a rally the next day. “I just want to make sure there’s no trouble there,” he says fervently.
***
10/25/369 O.L.G., 8 a.m.
A gull flaps lazily into the sky, then beats its wings industriously until the house it is seeking comes into view. Smoke is curling out of the chimney, indicating the owner is at home. Good. He lands on the sill and squawks.
Monli the druid walks over to him. He studies the gull for a moment; then he casts speak with animals. “Good morning,” he says with a smile.
“Good morning. It’s Humphrey.”
”Ah, you’re back in town. Good! You should bring your friends to me, and we’ll confer. I might even have something you’d be interested in doing for you. How did things go?”
Humphrey summarizes briefly the key contacts the party made further north on Dyshim, then flaps away to get the others. After they finish breakfast, the party heads cheerfully through the streets. As they walk, there is a chipper spring in their collective step. This time, when they left Sritivara, it held together. Nobody came to conquer it; no major troubles happened.
Of course, there is the issue of the damage caused by what has become known as the Bear’s Fire. The stories vary, but in general they go something like this: a great creature, half-bear and half-shark, rose from the water on a column of water. It breathed a great gout of flames and shot magical beams from its eyes, igniting the docks, and then the monster went on a rampage through the streets, killing natives and invaders alike. When they hear bits of that story, our heroes are rather amused, for reasons they keep to themselves.
Soon they reach Monli’s house, where they catch up with the druid, giving him a complete report on their activities, including the death of Ezeekiel. This sad news causes the druid to sigh and shake his head. “We may have had our differences,” Monli states, “but he had the good of the people in mind. He was a good halfling.”
Our heroes have a moment of sad silence, thinking of their dead. From Coco to Brother He, from Mama to Dogtooth... they have lost many of their loved ones.
“Speaking of halflings,” Monli the druid continues, “I have someone here you may be interested in meeting.”
Next Time: Meet Brain’s new pc!
10/24/369 O.L.G, 12:20 p.m., Sritivara
Hortense is inconsolable. The loss of Ezeekiel has left her a wreck. When the party puts ashore, she tells them she has to leave. “I... need some time by myself,” she sobs. In her eyes, the words she won’t say are emblazoned: he’s gone!
Sadly, our heroes watch her go. They ache for her, and all of them feel the loss of their friend. “I’m going to get his name tattooed on my arm of dead buddies,” Sandy vows, rubbing the names already tattooed there by Naomi:
While the others secure lodging, Naomi and Federico go to visit the new mayor of Sritivara, the civilized savage half-elf Rhudiveldan. He is pleased by their report, and he is saddened to hear of the demise of Ezeekiel. “Ezeekiel Dandybanter was well-known as a staunch member of the resistance. I understand that without his help- without all of your help- the Zacradosian occupiers might have taken over. We will not forget him.”
“Indeed, I hope not!” exclaims Federico. “In fact, I suggest that you memorialize him by renaming the town after him!”
“It’s brilliant!” Naomi crows. “Think of it! The people know he was a hero.” She adds her own psionic suggestion to reinforce the kobold’s.
“Yes- yes, I like it,” the mayor breathes. “It is brilliant.”
The meeting goes on for a few more minutes, during which time the mayor asks our heroes to keep an eye out at a rally the next day. “I just want to make sure there’s no trouble there,” he says fervently.
***
10/25/369 O.L.G., 8 a.m.
A gull flaps lazily into the sky, then beats its wings industriously until the house it is seeking comes into view. Smoke is curling out of the chimney, indicating the owner is at home. Good. He lands on the sill and squawks.
Monli the druid walks over to him. He studies the gull for a moment; then he casts speak with animals. “Good morning,” he says with a smile.
“Good morning. It’s Humphrey.”
”Ah, you’re back in town. Good! You should bring your friends to me, and we’ll confer. I might even have something you’d be interested in doing for you. How did things go?”
Humphrey summarizes briefly the key contacts the party made further north on Dyshim, then flaps away to get the others. After they finish breakfast, the party heads cheerfully through the streets. As they walk, there is a chipper spring in their collective step. This time, when they left Sritivara, it held together. Nobody came to conquer it; no major troubles happened.
Of course, there is the issue of the damage caused by what has become known as the Bear’s Fire. The stories vary, but in general they go something like this: a great creature, half-bear and half-shark, rose from the water on a column of water. It breathed a great gout of flames and shot magical beams from its eyes, igniting the docks, and then the monster went on a rampage through the streets, killing natives and invaders alike. When they hear bits of that story, our heroes are rather amused, for reasons they keep to themselves.
Soon they reach Monli’s house, where they catch up with the druid, giving him a complete report on their activities, including the death of Ezeekiel. This sad news causes the druid to sigh and shake his head. “We may have had our differences,” Monli states, “but he had the good of the people in mind. He was a good halfling.”
Our heroes have a moment of sad silence, thinking of their dead. From Coco to Brother He, from Mama to Dogtooth... they have lost many of their loved ones.
“Speaking of halflings,” Monli the druid continues, “I have someone here you may be interested in meeting.”
Next Time: Meet Brain’s new pc!
hippiejedi2
First Post
When Ziek died Beau became the bearer of the Halfling Prophecy.
Upon arrival, back in Stritivara, Beau tried to convince Hortense to stick around with the party for a little while. However; the loss of Ziek was too much for Hortense and despite Beau's attempt at diplomacy Hortense left the party.
When Federico and Naomi went to the Druid, Beau and Arthur went to the Halfling district to break the bad news (about Ziek's death) to the Halflings. In the Halfling District, Beau and Arthur entered an inn for a meal, drink, and likely another snack. The patrons recognized Beau as one within the group that was responsible for Heather Peachtree's paralysis and were in the process of kicking us out. Instead Beau bought a round for the local patrons, and casually mentioned adventering with Ziek, but that Ziek's adventuring days were over, and proceeded to tell the tale of Ziek's demise. Meanwhile Arthur made sure that the rounds kept on coming to the patrons and summarily decided to match drinks with everyone at the inn. Beau shifted from Ziek's death to Peachtree's condition and then made a generous dontation to the Heather Peachtree fund. Beau asked everyone to bow their heads and for a moment of silence for the fallen Halflings, some of the patrons went as far as to give up a meal. Next, Beau spoke of the impending Zachrodosian invasion warning the Halflings to prepare. Finally, Beau read the Halfling Prophecy and guaranteed that the good Halflings of Stritivara would be included. The patrons attitude to Beau and the group seemed to shift a little. Arthur made some new friends and got smashed real good.
Upon arrival, back in Stritivara, Beau tried to convince Hortense to stick around with the party for a little while. However; the loss of Ziek was too much for Hortense and despite Beau's attempt at diplomacy Hortense left the party.
When Federico and Naomi went to the Druid, Beau and Arthur went to the Halfling district to break the bad news (about Ziek's death) to the Halflings. In the Halfling District, Beau and Arthur entered an inn for a meal, drink, and likely another snack. The patrons recognized Beau as one within the group that was responsible for Heather Peachtree's paralysis and were in the process of kicking us out. Instead Beau bought a round for the local patrons, and casually mentioned adventering with Ziek, but that Ziek's adventuring days were over, and proceeded to tell the tale of Ziek's demise. Meanwhile Arthur made sure that the rounds kept on coming to the patrons and summarily decided to match drinks with everyone at the inn. Beau shifted from Ziek's death to Peachtree's condition and then made a generous dontation to the Heather Peachtree fund. Beau asked everyone to bow their heads and for a moment of silence for the fallen Halflings, some of the patrons went as far as to give up a meal. Next, Beau spoke of the impending Zachrodosian invasion warning the Halflings to prepare. Finally, Beau read the Halfling Prophecy and guaranteed that the good Halflings of Stritivara would be included. The patrons attitude to Beau and the group seemed to shift a little. Arthur made some new friends and got smashed real good.
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