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"Out of the Frying Pan" - Book II: Catching the Spark (Part Two) - {complete}
- Thread starter el-remmen
- Start date
Martin Olarin
First Post
Dawn said:
Just wanted to say I think Dawn hit the nail on the head here. Many DMs can come up with challanging encounters and many can randomly beat up on their players but few have the stamina and attention to detail needed to make the punishment seem part of something larger and thus meaningful. What Nem does requires alot of up front work and alot of on going note taking just to keep track of details and timelines. Just last session we spent a good 2 hours (or so it seemed
) verifying how long we spent doing something. Being the whiner I am I started to complain until Nemm gently reminded me that timelines are important - he didn't say it was because something horrific was happening elsewhere but I sure thats why...In anycase, I thought this line of discussion was started by someone who thought the party's failure to accomplish any of our major goals would be frustrating but others seem to be addressing the diffulculty of individual encounters. None of Nemms encounters have seemed unreasonably diffulcult to me and, quite frankly, I wouldn't want them to be easy. Futhermore, Nemm is pretty good in accepting opinions on rule interpretations when one interpretation over another may make things more diffulcult then they should be.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #34
The six adventurers marched through the night. Ratchis’ pace did not flag, and Kazrack moved to the back of the straggling line to keep Jana and Martin going. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and soon they were stumbling in the dark, drunk with fatigue, forcing themselves through tall snow banks.
“I will bring us near the stream,” Ratchis said. “The snow will not be as deep there, and we may be able to find a sheltered place.
He was not far from wrong. As the breached another bit of thick woods and the first lights became visible ahead of them, they found a dried branch of the stream filled with snow, with a low shelf of land that provided cover from the wind, and sight from the main hunter’s trail they intersected.
“We will camp down here,” Ratchis said.
“I will take first watch,” Martin said, after casting a mending spell or two to repair the ripped tent.
“Jeremy, will you watch with Martin?” Ratchis asked.
Jeremy sighed tiredly, “Sure, I’ll stay up.”
The tents went up and the rest of the party fell to sleep straight away, almost too tired to shiver against the cold.
----------
The weather grew warmer as Ra’s Glory crawled up the eastern sky like a burning flag, and the drip-drip of melting snow was all around them and in a few hours there was a trickle of a stream in the snow filled stream bed.
“I can’t keep my eyes open any longer,” Jeremy moaned, and stood.
“I am pretty tired myself,” Martin said. “Who has the next watch?”
“Beorth, I suppose,” Jeremy replied. “And, uh, Kazrack… I’ll wake the dwarf.”
Jeremy crawled into the larger tent and shook the dwarf.
“Time for your watch,” the Neergaardian said.
“Uh? Wake someone else. Not Ratchis…” the dwarf grumbled.
“Oh, you mean someone else who is not a spell-caster?” Jeremy replied, crankily. “Well, someone else is going to have to suck it up.”
Kazrack rolled over.
“Ratchis it is then,” Jeremy said, turning away.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Kazrack said, sitting up.
---------
Beorth and Kazrack watched for several more hours. The sun reached its peak and then began it western descent. Martin was awake in about two hours, feeling as if he no longer needed sleep, but still feeling the soreness of the nearly ceaseless marching in his bones. He searched in his pack for his whittling gear, and went back to the project that kept him occupied most of his sleepless nights.
Eventually, Ratchis and Jana stirred. Ratchis immediately walked off from everyone else, and knelt by the uppermost portion of the little sheltered beach where they had camped. There he prayed, looking out over the track that ran parallel to the stream and beside the woods the party had passed through.
Jana helped Beorth gather what tinder the party had left and began a fire.
Jeremy continued to snore quietly in the smaller tent.
Suddenly, Ratchis spotted a quadrupedal creature emerge from the wood, charging in their direction, a blast of smoky breath rising from it as it panted in the cold air.
It was some strange combination of cat and dog, but four feet at the shoulder, with brownish-red fur, pointed ears and spots on its coat. It had a slavering maw, and seemed to let out a chuckling snort as it approached with a strange gait, its powerful and over-developed fore-shoulders seeming to yank the rest of it along.
“Gnolls!” Ratchis cried, though he saw none of the humanoids, he recognized the creature as the type gnolls often use. “Martin, bring me my hammer. Nephthys, heal my wounds so I may better deal with this new danger!”
The half-orc laid a hand upon himself and his wounds closed, so he was back to perfect health.
Jana dropped the wood she was carrying and popped her head over the ledge of earth, and spoke her arcane word of blindness, but the creature seemed to ignore the spell, and just kept on coming.
Martin dropped his whittling knife and wood and ran over to Ratchis’ pack, where the large warhammer leaned.
Ratchis pulled the dagger from his boot and tossed it with all his might at the approaching creature. The blade cut into its shoulder, and it yelped, but still did not slow.
Kazrack grabbed his halberd, and moved to stand beside Ratchis.
Jana cried out her arcane word again, but again it failed to affect the thing.
The commotion made Jeremy stir, and he stuck his head out of the tent.
“Ratchis? Martin?” he mumbled.
“Wake up!” Martin cried, hefting the hammer. “We’re under attack, again!”
“Gotta get up,” Jeremy mumbled to himself, looking around for his weapons. “Remember why you’re doing this. Remember why you’re doing this.”
The strange animal leapt down on Ratchis, grabbing his forearm in its powerful jaws. The half-orc yanked it out painfully before the limb was snapped off, but blood and bits of flesh went flying. Ratchis cried out in pain, as Kazrack swung his halberd to distract the thing. Martin stepped behind the half-orc and held out the hammer. Ratchis made grabbed, and in one swirft motion brought down to smash the great animal’s head, but missed.
Kazrack thrust the blade of his halberd at the creature, smacking it in the muzzle, and drawing blood.
“By the gods! What is this creature?” the dwarf exclaimed.
“Jana, you are injured. Let me help you,” Beorth said, and he lay his hands on the young witch, and some of her wounds closed. Even as he did this, she tried again to blind the thing, failing.
By this time Jeremy had crawled out of the tent and was loading his crossbow.
At the edge of the wood appeared several gnolls with longbows. They let out a group roar and moved forward, drawing arrows from their quivers. Only Ratchis was in a position to see them. ‘Gnolls! Coming down on us, straight for me from the northwest!” the half-orc cried, trying to give his companions as precise a description as possible. The low ledge that created this small beach where they had camped created a shelf that was over six feet high at the sound end of the beach, but only three feet high where Ratchis and Kazrack fought beast.
Jana spoke another arcane word and made a gesture, but again the gnollish creature seemed to simply shake off her spell. She cursed under her breath.
Kazrack felt Jana’s failure with great pain, for the creature was able to get within the long reach of the polearm and grab hold of the dwarf’s arm. There was a sickening tearing of flesh and tendon, and Kazrack cried out in agony. The dwarf’s arm fell to his side, a useless and pain-filled lump of flesh, that poured blood in a torrent to the snowy ground (150). He knocked himself off his feet in his effort to pull his arm free.
“Kazrack!” Martin cried, having readied his own crossbow and firing at the animal. The bolt flew way over the melee.
Jeremy climbed up the shelf and looked at the gnolls approaching. He prepared his shot, even as the three closest gnolls (still over 80 feet away) stopped to fire arrows from their long bows.
He felt the bite of one across his temple. He dropped prone and lost his shot.
“Can we flee across the stream?” the Neergaardian suggested loudly to his companions.
Ratchis made what would have been bone-crushing contact to any normal creature with his hammer, but this animal’s hide was a thick mat of cushioning wire-like hair, and dense muscle. The blow only served to anger it more, and draw its attention away from the dwarf long enough for him to stand. Kazrack left his halberd on the ground, now unable to use the two-handed weapon.
Beorth, meanwhile, was struggling to climb the six feet to the top of the shelf, his heavy armor dragging him down.
Jana jogged over to where the ledge was not as high and simply stepped up, and moved her hands in a clawing motion at the closest gnoll while chanting under her breath.
It cried out in fear and dropping its bow, turned to run in the opposite direction of its companions.
Again, the gnoll’s animal sunk his devastating teeth into the dwarf’s flesh, and this time he was yanked from his feet, tossed aside like a rag doll.
And his arm still bled uselessly.
Martin dropped his crossbow and frantically pulled sand from a pouch at his belt. He tossed it and said, ”Sumnus”, while pointing at the beast that was tearing Kazrack apart, but the creature would not sleep.
Ratchis slammed the side of his hammer in the animal’s flank. It yelped.
Jeremy let a bolt go, and it barely grazed a gnoll’s leg. It cursed in its barking tongue, and aimed an arrow at the Neergaardian. The gnoll arced it too much and it struck Jeremy’s foot and not his back. The arrow punctured Jeremy’s boot, but absorbed most of the damage.
The gnoll that fled in fear, cried out in pain as one of his companion still emerging from the wood, took aim at him instead.
Again Kazrack dragged himself to his feet, drawing his light flail, and smacked the beast’s snout, making teeth go flying free.
The fight with the beast had moved sufficiently into the beach area, to allow Beorth to take up a place in the melee. He abandoned his attempt to climb and moved to slam the butt of his staff into the creature’s face, but the beast reared back and the paladin missed.
Again, Jana attempted her spell that caused fear, but this time she failed. Perhaps she was distracted by the horrific cries of agony coming from Kazrack, as the dwarf was again pulled off his feet and ravaged by the beast. And still his arm bled.
Martin moved over to where the ledge was lower, risking coming close to the beast again, but turned his attention to the advancing gnolls. “Sumnus!” he cried again, tossing sand, and this time a gnoll fell face first in the snow, snoring softly.
“Thank you, Isis!” the alumnus cheered.
It seemed that the third time was the charm, because Ratchis brought his hammer down on the beast one last time and there was a loud crunch as brain matter scattered everywhere. The creature fell in lifeless heap.
“I will heal Kazrack,’ Ratchis announced to the others.
A gnoll came charging up to take advantage of Ratchis’ distraction. It ignored the bite of a crossbow bolt from Jeremy (who ignored those that continued to pepper him with arrows to try and help his friend), and swung his battle axe with his full momentum. Ratchis, ducked however, as Beorth stepped in to block for him.
“I’ll take care of this gnoll,” the paladin said. “Take care of the dwarf.”
The paladin’s staff met the gnoll’s chin, and it flew backward, conscious.
Jana dropped back down to the beach, ready to using her healing skills should Ratchis fail, while Martin plucked a bit of wool from his cloak and said, “imago creare. A black shadow creature, humanoid in shape, and much like the one the party had fought outside of the Sun’s Summit Inn (151) but with vaguely bugbearish features, appeared on the field of battle, menacing the gnolls.
“Nephthys, grant me your healing strength so that I may bring friend back from the edge of Anubis’ Realm,” Ratchis prayed over the dwarf. The arm, while still useless as its very muscles were torn, stopped pouring the dwarf’s life into the snow. (152) The dwarf’s eyes fluttered, but he did not regain consciousness.
“I can use some help up here!” Jeremy cried, shooting one of the gnoll’s taking aim at him. This time the bolt buried itself in the opponent’s thigh. Jeremy rolled, avoiding a return arrow. The other archer-gnolls fired at the illusory shadow, but the arrow flew right through it. Martin had his creation feel at where the arrow flew through, and then toss back its shadowy head and howl.
Beorth moved to obey Jeremy’s summons, when he saw the shadow-creature for the first time.
“By Anubis, what is that!” the ghost-hunter exclaimed. “Guardian of the Dead, I call upon your power to send this creature back from whence it came!” Beorth channeled divine energy toward the shadowy thing, but there was no effect.
Jana stepped along side Beorth and spoke her arcane word again, in order to blind the gnolls firing at Jeremy, but again her spell failed. It felt the bite of another of Jeremy’s bolts, but did not flee or fall.
“I am running out of bolts!” Jeremy cried out.
Ratchis came running up now, snorting loudly in orcish at the gnoll foes.
Martin had his creation fly towards the gnoll firing at it, reaching as if to claw out the humanoid’s heart. The gnoll cried out and fear, dropping his bow and running.
Beorth cursed and dropping his quarterstaff drew his sword. “Anubis, my faith was insufficient to turn this foul creature. Give me the strength to wreak vengeance upon it!” And with that the paladin charged at the creature and brought his shining blade down over his head and right through the creature. (153) Nothing happened.
“Beorth, it’s an illusion,” Jana said, futilely as the paladin had run off.
The shadow creature turned and addressed Beorth, “Yes, it is an illusion. I’m sorry, apparently I should have mentioned this earlier.”
“Yes, Martin can create illusions,” Ratchis echoed as he ran past both the paladin and the illusion to charge at the remaining gnoll (for the rest were now fleeing back into the woods) and smash its skull.
Jeremy stood. “Thank the gods!” He walked over to check on Kazrack, while Jana slit the throat of the sleeping gnoll.
Martin had dispelled his illusion and was already at the dwarf’s side when Jeremy arrived.
“How’s Kazrack doing?”
“He’s breathing,” Martin replied. “I guess he’ll be alright.”
Jana began to collect the arrows and bows from the fallen gnolls, while Beorth collected their bodies and took what valuables they had (154).
Ratchis used the healing graces of his goddess to heal Kazrack once again. “Nephthys, we will not get far from our enemies with our friend unconscious. Give him strength to get back to his feet.”
Kazrack coughed and sputtered and his eyes fluttered open to see Ratchis leaning over him.
“Ratchis!” Kazrack seemed surprised to be alive. “Your son… that was your payment… for the scroll that healed my arm?” (155)
“Yes,” Ratchis replied. “Relax, my friend. You have been gravely injured, and need to rest a bit.”
The dwarf looked away, feeling ashamed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes
(150) Kazrack suffered the following critical result: Primary Weapon Arm Struck – Severe Muscle Damage, double die damage, Arm Useless Until Repaired, +1d4 hps damage / round
(151) This occurred in http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=1340#post1340]Session #14[/url]
(152) To see the rules from the Aquerra Player’s Handbook concerning critical hit results and healing http://www.matantisi.com/aquerra/rules/spells.htm]spells[/url] and skill check the Aquerra website.
(153) Paladins of Anubis do not gain the ability to Cure Disease[/url], instead they gain the ability of Divine Vengeance, using a turning attempt to deal +2d6 damage to undead creatures.
(154) Jana and Beorth collected a few longbows, battle axes and daggers and nearly three score arrows, along with more Black Island copper coins and some silver obleks.
(155) See session #32
The six adventurers marched through the night. Ratchis’ pace did not flag, and Kazrack moved to the back of the straggling line to keep Jana and Martin going. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and soon they were stumbling in the dark, drunk with fatigue, forcing themselves through tall snow banks.
“I will bring us near the stream,” Ratchis said. “The snow will not be as deep there, and we may be able to find a sheltered place.
He was not far from wrong. As the breached another bit of thick woods and the first lights became visible ahead of them, they found a dried branch of the stream filled with snow, with a low shelf of land that provided cover from the wind, and sight from the main hunter’s trail they intersected.
“We will camp down here,” Ratchis said.
“I will take first watch,” Martin said, after casting a mending spell or two to repair the ripped tent.
“Jeremy, will you watch with Martin?” Ratchis asked.
Jeremy sighed tiredly, “Sure, I’ll stay up.”
The tents went up and the rest of the party fell to sleep straight away, almost too tired to shiver against the cold.
----------
The weather grew warmer as Ra’s Glory crawled up the eastern sky like a burning flag, and the drip-drip of melting snow was all around them and in a few hours there was a trickle of a stream in the snow filled stream bed.
“I can’t keep my eyes open any longer,” Jeremy moaned, and stood.
“I am pretty tired myself,” Martin said. “Who has the next watch?”
“Beorth, I suppose,” Jeremy replied. “And, uh, Kazrack… I’ll wake the dwarf.”
Jeremy crawled into the larger tent and shook the dwarf.
“Time for your watch,” the Neergaardian said.
“Uh? Wake someone else. Not Ratchis…” the dwarf grumbled.
“Oh, you mean someone else who is not a spell-caster?” Jeremy replied, crankily. “Well, someone else is going to have to suck it up.”
Kazrack rolled over.
“Ratchis it is then,” Jeremy said, turning away.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Kazrack said, sitting up.
---------
Beorth and Kazrack watched for several more hours. The sun reached its peak and then began it western descent. Martin was awake in about two hours, feeling as if he no longer needed sleep, but still feeling the soreness of the nearly ceaseless marching in his bones. He searched in his pack for his whittling gear, and went back to the project that kept him occupied most of his sleepless nights.
Eventually, Ratchis and Jana stirred. Ratchis immediately walked off from everyone else, and knelt by the uppermost portion of the little sheltered beach where they had camped. There he prayed, looking out over the track that ran parallel to the stream and beside the woods the party had passed through.
Jana helped Beorth gather what tinder the party had left and began a fire.
Jeremy continued to snore quietly in the smaller tent.
Suddenly, Ratchis spotted a quadrupedal creature emerge from the wood, charging in their direction, a blast of smoky breath rising from it as it panted in the cold air.
It was some strange combination of cat and dog, but four feet at the shoulder, with brownish-red fur, pointed ears and spots on its coat. It had a slavering maw, and seemed to let out a chuckling snort as it approached with a strange gait, its powerful and over-developed fore-shoulders seeming to yank the rest of it along.
“Gnolls!” Ratchis cried, though he saw none of the humanoids, he recognized the creature as the type gnolls often use. “Martin, bring me my hammer. Nephthys, heal my wounds so I may better deal with this new danger!”
The half-orc laid a hand upon himself and his wounds closed, so he was back to perfect health.
Jana dropped the wood she was carrying and popped her head over the ledge of earth, and spoke her arcane word of blindness, but the creature seemed to ignore the spell, and just kept on coming.
Martin dropped his whittling knife and wood and ran over to Ratchis’ pack, where the large warhammer leaned.
Ratchis pulled the dagger from his boot and tossed it with all his might at the approaching creature. The blade cut into its shoulder, and it yelped, but still did not slow.
Kazrack grabbed his halberd, and moved to stand beside Ratchis.
Jana cried out her arcane word again, but again it failed to affect the thing.
The commotion made Jeremy stir, and he stuck his head out of the tent.
“Ratchis? Martin?” he mumbled.
“Wake up!” Martin cried, hefting the hammer. “We’re under attack, again!”
“Gotta get up,” Jeremy mumbled to himself, looking around for his weapons. “Remember why you’re doing this. Remember why you’re doing this.”
The strange animal leapt down on Ratchis, grabbing his forearm in its powerful jaws. The half-orc yanked it out painfully before the limb was snapped off, but blood and bits of flesh went flying. Ratchis cried out in pain, as Kazrack swung his halberd to distract the thing. Martin stepped behind the half-orc and held out the hammer. Ratchis made grabbed, and in one swirft motion brought down to smash the great animal’s head, but missed.
Kazrack thrust the blade of his halberd at the creature, smacking it in the muzzle, and drawing blood.
“By the gods! What is this creature?” the dwarf exclaimed.
“Jana, you are injured. Let me help you,” Beorth said, and he lay his hands on the young witch, and some of her wounds closed. Even as he did this, she tried again to blind the thing, failing.
By this time Jeremy had crawled out of the tent and was loading his crossbow.
At the edge of the wood appeared several gnolls with longbows. They let out a group roar and moved forward, drawing arrows from their quivers. Only Ratchis was in a position to see them. ‘Gnolls! Coming down on us, straight for me from the northwest!” the half-orc cried, trying to give his companions as precise a description as possible. The low ledge that created this small beach where they had camped created a shelf that was over six feet high at the sound end of the beach, but only three feet high where Ratchis and Kazrack fought beast.
Jana spoke another arcane word and made a gesture, but again the gnollish creature seemed to simply shake off her spell. She cursed under her breath.
Kazrack felt Jana’s failure with great pain, for the creature was able to get within the long reach of the polearm and grab hold of the dwarf’s arm. There was a sickening tearing of flesh and tendon, and Kazrack cried out in agony. The dwarf’s arm fell to his side, a useless and pain-filled lump of flesh, that poured blood in a torrent to the snowy ground (150). He knocked himself off his feet in his effort to pull his arm free.
“Kazrack!” Martin cried, having readied his own crossbow and firing at the animal. The bolt flew way over the melee.
Jeremy climbed up the shelf and looked at the gnolls approaching. He prepared his shot, even as the three closest gnolls (still over 80 feet away) stopped to fire arrows from their long bows.
He felt the bite of one across his temple. He dropped prone and lost his shot.
“Can we flee across the stream?” the Neergaardian suggested loudly to his companions.
Ratchis made what would have been bone-crushing contact to any normal creature with his hammer, but this animal’s hide was a thick mat of cushioning wire-like hair, and dense muscle. The blow only served to anger it more, and draw its attention away from the dwarf long enough for him to stand. Kazrack left his halberd on the ground, now unable to use the two-handed weapon.
Beorth, meanwhile, was struggling to climb the six feet to the top of the shelf, his heavy armor dragging him down.
Jana jogged over to where the ledge was not as high and simply stepped up, and moved her hands in a clawing motion at the closest gnoll while chanting under her breath.
It cried out in fear and dropping its bow, turned to run in the opposite direction of its companions.
Again, the gnoll’s animal sunk his devastating teeth into the dwarf’s flesh, and this time he was yanked from his feet, tossed aside like a rag doll.
And his arm still bled uselessly.
Martin dropped his crossbow and frantically pulled sand from a pouch at his belt. He tossed it and said, ”Sumnus”, while pointing at the beast that was tearing Kazrack apart, but the creature would not sleep.
Ratchis slammed the side of his hammer in the animal’s flank. It yelped.
Jeremy let a bolt go, and it barely grazed a gnoll’s leg. It cursed in its barking tongue, and aimed an arrow at the Neergaardian. The gnoll arced it too much and it struck Jeremy’s foot and not his back. The arrow punctured Jeremy’s boot, but absorbed most of the damage.
The gnoll that fled in fear, cried out in pain as one of his companion still emerging from the wood, took aim at him instead.
Again Kazrack dragged himself to his feet, drawing his light flail, and smacked the beast’s snout, making teeth go flying free.
The fight with the beast had moved sufficiently into the beach area, to allow Beorth to take up a place in the melee. He abandoned his attempt to climb and moved to slam the butt of his staff into the creature’s face, but the beast reared back and the paladin missed.
Again, Jana attempted her spell that caused fear, but this time she failed. Perhaps she was distracted by the horrific cries of agony coming from Kazrack, as the dwarf was again pulled off his feet and ravaged by the beast. And still his arm bled.
Martin moved over to where the ledge was lower, risking coming close to the beast again, but turned his attention to the advancing gnolls. “Sumnus!” he cried again, tossing sand, and this time a gnoll fell face first in the snow, snoring softly.
“Thank you, Isis!” the alumnus cheered.
It seemed that the third time was the charm, because Ratchis brought his hammer down on the beast one last time and there was a loud crunch as brain matter scattered everywhere. The creature fell in lifeless heap.
“I will heal Kazrack,’ Ratchis announced to the others.
A gnoll came charging up to take advantage of Ratchis’ distraction. It ignored the bite of a crossbow bolt from Jeremy (who ignored those that continued to pepper him with arrows to try and help his friend), and swung his battle axe with his full momentum. Ratchis, ducked however, as Beorth stepped in to block for him.
“I’ll take care of this gnoll,” the paladin said. “Take care of the dwarf.”
The paladin’s staff met the gnoll’s chin, and it flew backward, conscious.
Jana dropped back down to the beach, ready to using her healing skills should Ratchis fail, while Martin plucked a bit of wool from his cloak and said, “imago creare. A black shadow creature, humanoid in shape, and much like the one the party had fought outside of the Sun’s Summit Inn (151) but with vaguely bugbearish features, appeared on the field of battle, menacing the gnolls.
“Nephthys, grant me your healing strength so that I may bring friend back from the edge of Anubis’ Realm,” Ratchis prayed over the dwarf. The arm, while still useless as its very muscles were torn, stopped pouring the dwarf’s life into the snow. (152) The dwarf’s eyes fluttered, but he did not regain consciousness.
“I can use some help up here!” Jeremy cried, shooting one of the gnoll’s taking aim at him. This time the bolt buried itself in the opponent’s thigh. Jeremy rolled, avoiding a return arrow. The other archer-gnolls fired at the illusory shadow, but the arrow flew right through it. Martin had his creation feel at where the arrow flew through, and then toss back its shadowy head and howl.
Beorth moved to obey Jeremy’s summons, when he saw the shadow-creature for the first time.
“By Anubis, what is that!” the ghost-hunter exclaimed. “Guardian of the Dead, I call upon your power to send this creature back from whence it came!” Beorth channeled divine energy toward the shadowy thing, but there was no effect.
Jana stepped along side Beorth and spoke her arcane word again, in order to blind the gnolls firing at Jeremy, but again her spell failed. It felt the bite of another of Jeremy’s bolts, but did not flee or fall.
“I am running out of bolts!” Jeremy cried out.
Ratchis came running up now, snorting loudly in orcish at the gnoll foes.
Martin had his creation fly towards the gnoll firing at it, reaching as if to claw out the humanoid’s heart. The gnoll cried out and fear, dropping his bow and running.
Beorth cursed and dropping his quarterstaff drew his sword. “Anubis, my faith was insufficient to turn this foul creature. Give me the strength to wreak vengeance upon it!” And with that the paladin charged at the creature and brought his shining blade down over his head and right through the creature. (153) Nothing happened.
“Beorth, it’s an illusion,” Jana said, futilely as the paladin had run off.
The shadow creature turned and addressed Beorth, “Yes, it is an illusion. I’m sorry, apparently I should have mentioned this earlier.”
“Yes, Martin can create illusions,” Ratchis echoed as he ran past both the paladin and the illusion to charge at the remaining gnoll (for the rest were now fleeing back into the woods) and smash its skull.
Jeremy stood. “Thank the gods!” He walked over to check on Kazrack, while Jana slit the throat of the sleeping gnoll.
Martin had dispelled his illusion and was already at the dwarf’s side when Jeremy arrived.
“How’s Kazrack doing?”
“He’s breathing,” Martin replied. “I guess he’ll be alright.”
Jana began to collect the arrows and bows from the fallen gnolls, while Beorth collected their bodies and took what valuables they had (154).
Ratchis used the healing graces of his goddess to heal Kazrack once again. “Nephthys, we will not get far from our enemies with our friend unconscious. Give him strength to get back to his feet.”
Kazrack coughed and sputtered and his eyes fluttered open to see Ratchis leaning over him.
“Ratchis!” Kazrack seemed surprised to be alive. “Your son… that was your payment… for the scroll that healed my arm?” (155)
“Yes,” Ratchis replied. “Relax, my friend. You have been gravely injured, and need to rest a bit.”
The dwarf looked away, feeling ashamed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes
(150) Kazrack suffered the following critical result: Primary Weapon Arm Struck – Severe Muscle Damage, double die damage, Arm Useless Until Repaired, +1d4 hps damage / round
(151) This occurred in http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=1340#post1340]Session #14[/url]
(152) To see the rules from the Aquerra Player’s Handbook concerning critical hit results and healing http://www.matantisi.com/aquerra/rules/spells.htm]spells[/url] and skill check the Aquerra website.
(153) Paladins of Anubis do not gain the ability to Cure Disease[/url], instead they gain the ability of Divine Vengeance, using a turning attempt to deal +2d6 damage to undead creatures.
(154) Jana and Beorth collected a few longbows, battle axes and daggers and nearly three score arrows, along with more Black Island copper coins and some silver obleks.
(155) See session #32
Black Bard
First Post
Wonderful post!!!
But if I was Kazrack's player I would be really mad after this session... Someone up in the heavens don't want a dwarf using a two handed weapon...Or maybe this one is behind the DM's screen...
But if I was Kazrack's player I would be really mad after this session... Someone up in the heavens don't want a dwarf using a two handed weapon...Or maybe this one is behind the DM's screen...
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #34 (part II)
“I will be able to heal your arm tomorrow,”(156) Ratchis said to Kazrack, who clutched his limp and useless right arm with his left. “You rest while we pack up and clean up, but the gnolls will be back.”
“Well, then, shouldn’t we hurry away?” Jeremy asked.
“The gnolls will take some time to heal their wounds,” Ratchis said. “I want to skin their beast, their fur is very warm.”
Ratchis skinned the hyenadon, while Martin watched, intrigued and the others broke down camp – except for Kazrack. The dwarf quietly prayed, beseeching his gods for the answer to why fortune had not favored him of late.
“It will be an hour before Kazrack is even able to move with any kind of reliability,” Jana said. “Perhaps there is somewhere else nearby we can move to and hide.”
“Or I can do the hiding,” Martin said.
Everyone looked at him. “What I mean, is that I can use an illusion to help shield us. Perhaps a rocky outcropping and a fallen tree will look believable.”
“Do it,’ Ratchis said.
And so an hour passed, as the party sat beneath the illusory rocks and branches, gathering their wits and strengths. Martin could do nothing but concentrate on his spell.
Ratchis checked on Kazrack one last time, as the others pulled their packs on to their backs and Martin made ready to drop the spell.
Kazrack stood and bowed to Ratchis, and then whispered, “I may not be able to speak freely later, so I’ll say this now.” The dwarf paused and looked down and then back up straight into Ratchis’ eyes. “Uh, I know you are a good person, but you still surprise me from time to time. I mean, uh…” The dwarf struggled with his words. “I know some peoples leaves their children to be claimed by the elements, but to my people, ther is nothing more valuable than a child. If I had known what you were going to do I’d have asked you to not do it, but nevertheless, I am indebted to you.”
Ratchis did not reply.
The dwarf continued: “Ratchis, in my mind you are like a diamond that is uncut. You are beautiful, but rough. If you would allow it I would like to call you D’nar, henceforth. It is the dwarven word for an uncut diamond. The diamond also represents the heart to my people, so it is doubly appropriate. Also, I offer you my services, if you should seek to liberate your child.”
Still Ratchis did not reply.
“Do you accept my pledge?” the dwarf asked.
“I am not going to liberate my child,” Ratchis finally said. “But, I am going to go see him in 12 years hence. I have known other names, and my people use other names as descriptions, so if you wish to call me that, I will answer to it. I only did what needed to be done, whether it was right or wrong, I made my choice freely. Please, let’s forget it, and put our minds on the task at hand.”
“Do you give me permission to raise your son in your stead, should you be unable to do this?” Kazrack asked.
“I don’t think that would be possible, considering where he is,” Ratchis replied.
“Do you give me permission to raise your son in your stead, should you be unable to do this?” Kazrack repeated, stubbornly. “Twelve years is but a short time to my people, but still many things can change in that period, even that place.”
“I don’t think that would be possible, considering where he is,” Ratchis said again, meeting stubbornness with obstinence.
“Fine. I will accept what you can give freely and nothing more.” The dwarf hefted his pack onto his good shoulder, straining with the weight, and wincing from the pain of his recent wounds. He made to walk away.
.
“There is one last thing,” Ratchis said, placing his big and callous hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Ratchis means ‘pale runt’ in the orcish tongue.”
“They named you wrong.”
“”Orcs grow fast.”
“I prefer D’nar,” and soon the party was marching westward by southwestward, led by Ratchis
As they marched through snowdrifts, among skeletal scrubby trees and bushes, interspersed with thick firs and pines, it was discovered that Beorth had no idea where the party was going and why.
Ratchis and Jana explained as best they could.
“… And the druids said that this other-worldly creature can take multiple forms,” the half-orc said.
“And when they said multiple forms they seemed to mean that it can not only change its shape, but be more than one thing at a time,’ Jana explained. “Not that I really understand how that could be.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Jeremy said.
Kazrack did not speak at all.
In time Ratchis found signs of wild ponies, and followed their spore to a sunken field that was bordered on its eastern and western ends by lop-sided hills, as if long ago a wave had washed away the center of a much larger hill, or even a mountain. The half-orc ranger led them around from the north, as light snow began to filter down.
They were all exhausted, especially Kazrack, who winced with every step as his arm was jarred by the marching.
In the distance they could see a small group of wild ponies huddled for warmth. Their breath rose like a signal against the backdrop of the gray horizon.
“It could be among those ponies,” Ratchis said.
“Yes, but we need rest,” Jana said. “We are in no condition to take this thing one now.”
“Maybe we can climb up the western face of the western hill and observe their behavior from there,” Ratchis said.
“I think you’d be better off finding us a camping spot,” Jana replied.
“I can help to scout for a camping spot,” Beorth offered.
Ratchis was taken aback.
Jana patted Beorth’s shoulder sympathetically. “I don’t remember you doing any scouting before, so why don’t you stay behind and we’ll try to catch you up some more on events.”
“Will he be okay on his own?” Beorth asked of the half-orc.
“He does this all the time,” Jana replied, and nodded to Ratchis.
The half-orc jogged away, running atop the drifts as if he did not weigh a thing, his magical boots carrying over and around the foot of the western hill and out of sight.
-----
Ratchis returned nearly an hour later, saying he had found a place he had been to before, when the rest of the party had been arrested. It was a large cleft rock outcropping, shaped like a crab claw on its side, and its open end screened by tall pines. The stones at the back point of the “claw” created a natural staircase, while a stubborn tree’s roots had cracked the thinner end, and created a climbable divot. It had been here that Ratchis had run into the stranger who had seemingly killed a bunch of gnolls single-handedly. (157)
As the rest of the party made camp, Kazrack began a long dwarven prayer, saying it very softly as he removed his armor. He then tied his arm in a sling, and hefting his prayer stone on one shoulder, walked to the inner corner of the cleft in the stone. There he dropped the stone, prostrated himself before it, began to scrape the dirt off the incline, down on to himself and the prayer stone.
Jana noted what the dwarf was doing and hurried over, passing Martin who was looking around and scratching his chin, “I wonder if this thing could turn into a tree?” he mused. Jana paid no attention him, but laid ah and on Kazrack’s shoulder. “Kazrack, you shouldn’t over exert yourself. Your arm is useless!”
“Thank you, Jana,” the dwarf replied without looking at her. “I will be fine.”
“No, you are, as we say in Westron, a nut!” Jana declared.
Martin noticed Jana’s flustering and walked over, and then noticed Kazrack’s poison and actions.
“Kazrack, what are you doing?” the watch-mage asked.
“I must do this,” was Kazrack’s only reply.
Martin paused, “Very well,” he said and walked away.
“Can anyone help you with this?” Jana offered.
“Thank you, but no,” Kazrack said. He still had not looked up.
Jana walked off surrendering with a sigh.
Once the tents were set up Ratchis finished cleaning the hyenadon hide, while Martin put a sketch of the beast into his journals, which had doubled as his notebooks at the Academy of Wizardry. Jeremy spent some time showing Beorth the finer points on using one of the recovered long bows, and then while the paladin practiced the energetic Neergaardian, began to scale to he stone and scurry back and forth to practice climbing.
“Don’t use up too many arrows!” he called down playfully to the paladin. The top of the stone was no more than fifteen feet above the ground level.
Suddenly Martin cocked his head, in the tiniest moment of silence amid the chatter and bustle of his companions he thought he heard something above them upon the rock.
“Did anyone else hear that?” Martin asked. “It sounded like crunching snow.”
Everyone stopped, except for Kazrack who remained prostrate upon his prayer stone.
Ratchis signaled for everyone to remain quiet, and then sprang up the incline to check it out.
“Thomas?” Martin called to his familiar, who was wrapped in a ball in the watch-mage’s hood. “Do you smell anything? Gnolls? Or something, wrong? The thing we are hunting may smell wrong.”
“All I smell is Ratchis,” Thomas chittered.
Ratchis soon returned.
“Must have been the wind knocking snow from a branch,” the half-orc reasoned.
Kazrack’s chanting began again, and he removed the stone and ceramic beads he wore in certain locks of his beard. Everyone else returned to their previous activity. Martin used his mending spell on Ratchis’ chain shirt to repair a link (158).
There was a sudden sound of many booted feet hurrying on the snow above them.
“Gnolls again?” Martin sighed, and looked up as gnolls appeared above them on the broader side of the cleft.
Ratchis had already pulled his bow, but he let off a hurried shot that fell short, striking the stone walls. The gnolls fired in kind. One gnolls appeared directly above Kazrack and fired an arrow down on the dwarf, who leapt backward as it clipped his shoulder.
“We might be able to hide!” Jeremy cried and ran for the cover of the trees at the entrance to the “claw”. However, as soon as he got under them he spotted a handful of more gnolls coming from that direction. “Scratch that idea! They are down here, too!”
Martin cried out as he leapt away from one arrow only to feel the slash of another whizzing past him.
Beorth fired an arrow, but his recent practice failed him and his arrow also fell short of its mark. The hyenas barked their laughing language.
Kazrack ran past the mage towards the tents, crying “the trees are our best chance of cover!” Martin turned with the armorless dwarf and chanted, “distortus!” and touching Kazrack made his image blur. The mage followed to gain cover behind the tents.
Jana mumbled her arcane words, pointing at one of the archer gnolls, but the spell did not seem to work.
A gnoll tried to run past Jeremy, who turned and used his momentum to bury his sword in the thing’s back. However, Jeremy did not feel the all-too-familiar and often satisfying thud of the long sword blade cutting deep into flesh and meeting bone. No, instead he felt as if his sword had entered a very thick pudding, or drying mortar, and then he could not believe what his eyes revealed to him. Instead of gouts of blood and crumbling gore, that he had grown accustomed to seeing, the gnolls flesh seemed to grow amorphous, and instead of veins and organs, the inside of the creature seemed made of brownish-red pudding-like material (at least pudding was the best analogy he could make in his mind – for he had never seen anything like this). Jeremy yanked his sword back in shock, as the two halves sprouted tendrils that connected and then pulled the two halves back together, melding back into one piece. The gnoll’s head, which was at an odd twisted angle, looked back at Jeremy with filmed over eyes that dripped milky mucus as the flesh turned and curled.
“By the gods! It’s not gnolls! It’s not gnolls!” Jeremy began to scream as he pulled his short sword from his belt and twirled it in his left hand, swinging both blades down on the horrific thing.
------------------------------------------
Notes
(156) The “useless” critical result can be counter both by the Cure Moderate Wounds spell (or greater) and by being tended to by someone with the healing skill for 2d4 days minus 1 day per point over DC 15 on healing check (minimum 1 day).
(157) See Interlude II – between sessions # 27 and #28.
(158) The mending spell will repair one point of armor damage per casting.
“I will be able to heal your arm tomorrow,”(156) Ratchis said to Kazrack, who clutched his limp and useless right arm with his left. “You rest while we pack up and clean up, but the gnolls will be back.”
“Well, then, shouldn’t we hurry away?” Jeremy asked.
“The gnolls will take some time to heal their wounds,” Ratchis said. “I want to skin their beast, their fur is very warm.”
Ratchis skinned the hyenadon, while Martin watched, intrigued and the others broke down camp – except for Kazrack. The dwarf quietly prayed, beseeching his gods for the answer to why fortune had not favored him of late.
“It will be an hour before Kazrack is even able to move with any kind of reliability,” Jana said. “Perhaps there is somewhere else nearby we can move to and hide.”
“Or I can do the hiding,” Martin said.
Everyone looked at him. “What I mean, is that I can use an illusion to help shield us. Perhaps a rocky outcropping and a fallen tree will look believable.”
“Do it,’ Ratchis said.
And so an hour passed, as the party sat beneath the illusory rocks and branches, gathering their wits and strengths. Martin could do nothing but concentrate on his spell.
Ratchis checked on Kazrack one last time, as the others pulled their packs on to their backs and Martin made ready to drop the spell.
Kazrack stood and bowed to Ratchis, and then whispered, “I may not be able to speak freely later, so I’ll say this now.” The dwarf paused and looked down and then back up straight into Ratchis’ eyes. “Uh, I know you are a good person, but you still surprise me from time to time. I mean, uh…” The dwarf struggled with his words. “I know some peoples leaves their children to be claimed by the elements, but to my people, ther is nothing more valuable than a child. If I had known what you were going to do I’d have asked you to not do it, but nevertheless, I am indebted to you.”
Ratchis did not reply.
The dwarf continued: “Ratchis, in my mind you are like a diamond that is uncut. You are beautiful, but rough. If you would allow it I would like to call you D’nar, henceforth. It is the dwarven word for an uncut diamond. The diamond also represents the heart to my people, so it is doubly appropriate. Also, I offer you my services, if you should seek to liberate your child.”
Still Ratchis did not reply.
“Do you accept my pledge?” the dwarf asked.
“I am not going to liberate my child,” Ratchis finally said. “But, I am going to go see him in 12 years hence. I have known other names, and my people use other names as descriptions, so if you wish to call me that, I will answer to it. I only did what needed to be done, whether it was right or wrong, I made my choice freely. Please, let’s forget it, and put our minds on the task at hand.”
“Do you give me permission to raise your son in your stead, should you be unable to do this?” Kazrack asked.
“I don’t think that would be possible, considering where he is,” Ratchis replied.
“Do you give me permission to raise your son in your stead, should you be unable to do this?” Kazrack repeated, stubbornly. “Twelve years is but a short time to my people, but still many things can change in that period, even that place.”
“I don’t think that would be possible, considering where he is,” Ratchis said again, meeting stubbornness with obstinence.
“Fine. I will accept what you can give freely and nothing more.” The dwarf hefted his pack onto his good shoulder, straining with the weight, and wincing from the pain of his recent wounds. He made to walk away.
.
“There is one last thing,” Ratchis said, placing his big and callous hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Ratchis means ‘pale runt’ in the orcish tongue.”
“They named you wrong.”
“”Orcs grow fast.”
“I prefer D’nar,” and soon the party was marching westward by southwestward, led by Ratchis
As they marched through snowdrifts, among skeletal scrubby trees and bushes, interspersed with thick firs and pines, it was discovered that Beorth had no idea where the party was going and why.
Ratchis and Jana explained as best they could.
“… And the druids said that this other-worldly creature can take multiple forms,” the half-orc said.
“And when they said multiple forms they seemed to mean that it can not only change its shape, but be more than one thing at a time,’ Jana explained. “Not that I really understand how that could be.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Jeremy said.
Kazrack did not speak at all.
In time Ratchis found signs of wild ponies, and followed their spore to a sunken field that was bordered on its eastern and western ends by lop-sided hills, as if long ago a wave had washed away the center of a much larger hill, or even a mountain. The half-orc ranger led them around from the north, as light snow began to filter down.
They were all exhausted, especially Kazrack, who winced with every step as his arm was jarred by the marching.
In the distance they could see a small group of wild ponies huddled for warmth. Their breath rose like a signal against the backdrop of the gray horizon.
“It could be among those ponies,” Ratchis said.
“Yes, but we need rest,” Jana said. “We are in no condition to take this thing one now.”
“Maybe we can climb up the western face of the western hill and observe their behavior from there,” Ratchis said.
“I think you’d be better off finding us a camping spot,” Jana replied.
“I can help to scout for a camping spot,” Beorth offered.
Ratchis was taken aback.
Jana patted Beorth’s shoulder sympathetically. “I don’t remember you doing any scouting before, so why don’t you stay behind and we’ll try to catch you up some more on events.”
“Will he be okay on his own?” Beorth asked of the half-orc.
“He does this all the time,” Jana replied, and nodded to Ratchis.
The half-orc jogged away, running atop the drifts as if he did not weigh a thing, his magical boots carrying over and around the foot of the western hill and out of sight.
-----
Ratchis returned nearly an hour later, saying he had found a place he had been to before, when the rest of the party had been arrested. It was a large cleft rock outcropping, shaped like a crab claw on its side, and its open end screened by tall pines. The stones at the back point of the “claw” created a natural staircase, while a stubborn tree’s roots had cracked the thinner end, and created a climbable divot. It had been here that Ratchis had run into the stranger who had seemingly killed a bunch of gnolls single-handedly. (157)
As the rest of the party made camp, Kazrack began a long dwarven prayer, saying it very softly as he removed his armor. He then tied his arm in a sling, and hefting his prayer stone on one shoulder, walked to the inner corner of the cleft in the stone. There he dropped the stone, prostrated himself before it, began to scrape the dirt off the incline, down on to himself and the prayer stone.
Jana noted what the dwarf was doing and hurried over, passing Martin who was looking around and scratching his chin, “I wonder if this thing could turn into a tree?” he mused. Jana paid no attention him, but laid ah and on Kazrack’s shoulder. “Kazrack, you shouldn’t over exert yourself. Your arm is useless!”
“Thank you, Jana,” the dwarf replied without looking at her. “I will be fine.”
“No, you are, as we say in Westron, a nut!” Jana declared.
Martin noticed Jana’s flustering and walked over, and then noticed Kazrack’s poison and actions.
“Kazrack, what are you doing?” the watch-mage asked.
“I must do this,” was Kazrack’s only reply.
Martin paused, “Very well,” he said and walked away.
“Can anyone help you with this?” Jana offered.
“Thank you, but no,” Kazrack said. He still had not looked up.
Jana walked off surrendering with a sigh.
Once the tents were set up Ratchis finished cleaning the hyenadon hide, while Martin put a sketch of the beast into his journals, which had doubled as his notebooks at the Academy of Wizardry. Jeremy spent some time showing Beorth the finer points on using one of the recovered long bows, and then while the paladin practiced the energetic Neergaardian, began to scale to he stone and scurry back and forth to practice climbing.
“Don’t use up too many arrows!” he called down playfully to the paladin. The top of the stone was no more than fifteen feet above the ground level.
Suddenly Martin cocked his head, in the tiniest moment of silence amid the chatter and bustle of his companions he thought he heard something above them upon the rock.
“Did anyone else hear that?” Martin asked. “It sounded like crunching snow.”
Everyone stopped, except for Kazrack who remained prostrate upon his prayer stone.
Ratchis signaled for everyone to remain quiet, and then sprang up the incline to check it out.
“Thomas?” Martin called to his familiar, who was wrapped in a ball in the watch-mage’s hood. “Do you smell anything? Gnolls? Or something, wrong? The thing we are hunting may smell wrong.”
“All I smell is Ratchis,” Thomas chittered.
Ratchis soon returned.
“Must have been the wind knocking snow from a branch,” the half-orc reasoned.
Kazrack’s chanting began again, and he removed the stone and ceramic beads he wore in certain locks of his beard. Everyone else returned to their previous activity. Martin used his mending spell on Ratchis’ chain shirt to repair a link (158).
There was a sudden sound of many booted feet hurrying on the snow above them.
“Gnolls again?” Martin sighed, and looked up as gnolls appeared above them on the broader side of the cleft.
Ratchis had already pulled his bow, but he let off a hurried shot that fell short, striking the stone walls. The gnolls fired in kind. One gnolls appeared directly above Kazrack and fired an arrow down on the dwarf, who leapt backward as it clipped his shoulder.
“We might be able to hide!” Jeremy cried and ran for the cover of the trees at the entrance to the “claw”. However, as soon as he got under them he spotted a handful of more gnolls coming from that direction. “Scratch that idea! They are down here, too!”
Martin cried out as he leapt away from one arrow only to feel the slash of another whizzing past him.
Beorth fired an arrow, but his recent practice failed him and his arrow also fell short of its mark. The hyenas barked their laughing language.
Kazrack ran past the mage towards the tents, crying “the trees are our best chance of cover!” Martin turned with the armorless dwarf and chanted, “distortus!” and touching Kazrack made his image blur. The mage followed to gain cover behind the tents.
Jana mumbled her arcane words, pointing at one of the archer gnolls, but the spell did not seem to work.
A gnoll tried to run past Jeremy, who turned and used his momentum to bury his sword in the thing’s back. However, Jeremy did not feel the all-too-familiar and often satisfying thud of the long sword blade cutting deep into flesh and meeting bone. No, instead he felt as if his sword had entered a very thick pudding, or drying mortar, and then he could not believe what his eyes revealed to him. Instead of gouts of blood and crumbling gore, that he had grown accustomed to seeing, the gnolls flesh seemed to grow amorphous, and instead of veins and organs, the inside of the creature seemed made of brownish-red pudding-like material (at least pudding was the best analogy he could make in his mind – for he had never seen anything like this). Jeremy yanked his sword back in shock, as the two halves sprouted tendrils that connected and then pulled the two halves back together, melding back into one piece. The gnoll’s head, which was at an odd twisted angle, looked back at Jeremy with filmed over eyes that dripped milky mucus as the flesh turned and curled.
“By the gods! It’s not gnolls! It’s not gnolls!” Jeremy began to scream as he pulled his short sword from his belt and twirled it in his left hand, swinging both blades down on the horrific thing.
------------------------------------------
Notes
(156) The “useless” critical result can be counter both by the Cure Moderate Wounds spell (or greater) and by being tended to by someone with the healing skill for 2d4 days minus 1 day per point over DC 15 on healing check (minimum 1 day).
(157) See Interlude II – between sessions # 27 and #28.
(158) The mending spell will repair one point of armor damage per casting.
MavrickWeirdo
First Post
So they left the "circle of thorns";
They camped for the night;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on through the night to a new camp, spent some daylight hours resting;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on to the third camp started to settle down for the evening;
They were attacked;
Would it be to much to let them have a chance to rest and heal?
Way to keep the players on their toes I mean.
They camped for the night;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on through the night to a new camp, spent some daylight hours resting;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on to the third camp started to settle down for the evening;
They were attacked;
Would it be to much to let them have a chance to rest and heal?
Way to keep the players on their toes I mean.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
MavrickWeirdo said:So they left the "circle of thorns";
They camped for the night;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on through the night to a new camp, spent some daylight hours resting;
They were attacked;
Surviving they moved on to the third camp started to settle down for the evening;
They were attacked;
Would it be to much to let them have a chance to rest and heal?
It would not be very believable if monsters only ever attacked while the party was awake, well-rested and in full day light.
There is a fine line to be walked between verisimilitude and fairness, and I try really hard to keep to it. So that means that when they are going to go what I know to be a dangerous area I try to make every effort to make that clear to them without being overt or contrived for the sake of the “fairness of a game”, but this also means that I can be “ruthless” about the encounter or situation.
In this example, the party had both heard rumor of gnolls and orcs and the like (in Archet for example), and Ratchis had seen nearly a dozen that had been killed by “the mysterious stranger”. It lent itself to verisimilitude without having to have Ratchis suddenly attacked by 12 gnolls to show him that rumors he had heard were true (while providing a clue? red herring?). On the other hand, if he had remained another day or two in that same area by himself, he would have definitely run into some.
Of course, there is also the fact that gnolls as intelligent opponents, and know when to attack their foes; when they are most vulnerable.
I think my players have come to expect that I would not hesitate to kill any one of their characters (not to give anything away
) if they slip up in too big a way or even a little way at too wrong a time – and most of them (you know who you aren’t) know that I make no effort to kill their characters except in regards to playing the motivations and goals of their opponents. Hmmmm. . . I should use my story hour to pontificate on the art of DMing more. . .
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