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KidC wrote:
And the goblin thing wasn't comic at the time. It was brave and foolhardy, the stuff of legends. Nolin gave his life to save Arcade. It only became goofy when we thought about it later. "Killed by 1" tall goblins? Maybe I won't write a stirring ballad about that."

Here follows a brief thread-hijack by the "Defenders of Daybreak, the Early Years" thread:

Bear in mind that the Defenders had accomplished mighty deeds before this point in history. We had slain demons, devils and a mind-flayer, killed a dragon, defeated an archmage, and crushed a superdoppelganger plot. Understandably, we had gotten a bit cocky.

We were, I believe, on the trail of a cult formed by a Helm of the Hive. Nolin's brother Eritain (unbeknownst to us) had been possessed by the helm, and was forming a group-mind army to serve as slaves.

Nothing had gone well on the trip so far. We had been on a really unpleasant slog through swamps, plains, and generally nasty terrritory for days. Arcade kept getting little psychic summonings to join the cult. [P'Cat kept passing me little paper notes that would say things like "We are One," and "Join Us!" Very irritating, and distracting. ;)]

Then to top things off, we had to stop at a bleak and abandoned waystation to get out of a massive rainstorm. We spent the night on the floor, and woke in the morning to find ourselves shrunk to minute size. We were appalled to find that Velendo had lost his access to his god (no healing spells). Luckily we had a few potions, and we began to explore a bit.

Suddenly, from the ceiling, a goblin war party on very long ropes dropped down to attack us. We finished them in moments, but we decided to investigate. Arcade cast fly. Nolin's cloak permitted him to glide, and Arcade towed him and a psionically- lightened Tom-Tom up to the ceiling beams. While the other two stayed put, Arcade turned invisible and went to look for the goblins.

He discovered an entire tribe of the tiny humanoids, and saw a cage with a human maiden being prepared for sacrifice.

The early paragraphs are, of course, a weak attempt to excuse Arcade's somewhat rash behavior at this point. It seemed a very straightforward rescue. He quickly notified the party at a distance that there was trouble. (He used his Clasp of Crown Eternal. These were magic items gifted to the party by the King of Gaunt that permitted us to send warning signals to others wearing the clasps.)

He then took out the cage guards (with 'missiles I think), knocked the lock, cast a fireball into the goblin camp which was supposed to deter pursuit, scooped up the maiden, and flew off.

Unfortunately, with the weight of the maiden (Arcade STR: 11), Arcade was unable to gain much height or speed. In the meanwhile, the entire village had grabbed weapons and streamed after him. Slowly, they started to close.

The cavalry arrived in the form of Nolin. Gliding with his cloak of the phoenix, Nolin launched a spell that took out several of the goblins, and moved in to finish off the lead group. Had he been able to dispatch them we might have gotten away, and then been able to return later to finish the job with no hostage to worry about.

Nolin drew his frostbrand jambiya and swung, slew one goblin, and then with his second stroke fumbled. As a flame-using creature (with his cloak), he was horribly wounded. Things went from bad to worse, as a couple of goblins rolled criticals. Nolin slumped onto the beam, unconscious. The goblins closed, and slit his throat.

An ignominious death for the bard of the Defenders, at the hands of inch-high goblins.

The first that the rest of the party knew of the disaster was Nolin's body falling the hundreds of inches to the floor and landing in their midst, dead. His body was smoldering. The Defenders leaped for cover as a huge gout of flame erupted from the corpse. Blearily, Nolin rose from his own ashes and stood, his hair burning merrily.

The "rebirth in flame" bonded the souls of Nolin and the phoenix. The cloak disappeared, and ever afterwards Nolin's hair was perpetually on fire. Over the years, Nolin learned to commune with the phoenix, and tap its powers of flame and flight.

So, after all, it came out OK.:D

We now return you to your regularly scheduled thread.
 

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There was one hilarious game, the very first playtest game we played after we converted the Defenders to 3e, where the Defenders went to a carnival! Nolin decided to be mischevious and spread the rumor that Velendo, living saint, walked through the crowd. Velendo, disgusted, stalked away... and as soon as he was out of sight of Nolin, started using his influence to get people to light cigars off of the head of Nolin Benholm, bard to the crowned heads of Spira. For the entire adventure, Nolin had to deal with people trying to light their smokes off of his scalp. It was great.

I don't think Velendo ever fessed up, either.
 

A recent face-to-face discussion with someone who reads this thread made me realize that not all the proper nouns in the campaign have self-evident pronunciations. Hence, a quick (and incomplete) list:

Velendo - veh-LENN-doh
Mara - MARR-ah (not "MARE-ah")
Nolin - NOLL-inn (not "NOH-linn")
TomTom - TOMM-TOMM (duh)
Tao - TAY-oh (not "TAH-oh")
Malachite - MAL-ah-kite (not "MAL-ah-chite")
Raevynn - RAY-vinn
Agar - AY-garr (not "AH-garr" or "ah-GARR")
PirateCat - RAT-BASS-tarrd (not "PIE-rat-cat")
Shara - SHARR-ah (not "SHARE-ah")
Dylrath - DILL-rath
Aleax - AY-lee-ax
 
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The heroes do their best to sleep late, but it isn’t easy; dozens of people are bustling around the outside of the inn, trying to get a glimpse of them. Finally they rise and have breakfast. The innkeeper has been kind enough to forbid anyone else entry, but their meal is still interrupted by curious people. Tomtom tells them that the dwarven woman that they met last night was Tursa Coskeep, granddaughter of Lord Coskeep, head of the beer and wine brewing House in Eversink. She wasn’t hurt, at least, so no harm done.

The group splits up. Raevynn and Mara stay in Eversink, Mara to speak calmingly to the locals and Raevynn to resanctify the graveyard. No one thinks to somehow fill in the tunnels, and Mara gets asked almost two dozen times what the town is supposed to do. Mara stalls them, expecting that someone with an earth elemental or two will be back to help. In fact, Arcade shows back up later that day, and uses move earth to solve the problem. The hill becomes lower, but the huge hole is closed up, and a new wall of stone blocks access to the narrow tunnel around the oak tree. Arcade assures Mara that if the Defenders want to reenter the Underdark via this method, he can easily reopen it.

Nolin, Agar and TomTom head to the huge trade port of Oursk, where they find the temple of Korok, God of Chance. His temple is filled with people gambling, a holy casino where visitors can find redemption through risk. Amused, the Defenders play a few dice games in order to purify themselves, and are brought to see the excitable High Priest. He leaps up when they enter, greeting them. Once they’re seated and given refreshments, Nolin starts to speak. “We have something that….” He’s interrupted by the cleric, who holds up his hand to stop him.

“No no no! Not yet!” he exclaims. “You'll jinx my luck. My horoscope today said, ‘Today will be filled with unexpected surprises. Do not be greedy, and your gifts will be returned four-fold.’ This must be what it was referring to. Here… roll this die.” He hands everyone a die. Agar rolls a 1, and both Nolin and TomTom roll 2s.

“Now draw that many chits from this bag.” He holds open a pouch. Everyone draws a numbered chit, and the high priest sends a lackey out with the numbers. “They’re cubbies in our vaults, you see. If you’re going to give me something – something big, I can feel it in my bones! – then you should have the chance to make an exchange. You may receive a dusty bone, or a magical catapult… there are a lot of things down there.”

The lackey returns and distributes items. There is a bone rabbit figurine that rattles, a roll of old leather, a beautifully filigreed rod, a set of goggles, and a small spyglass. The items aren’t all undead-bane weapons of disruption, but the Defenders accept them gratefully, and pass over the Chancestone of Korok. This dangerous luck-related item is no longer their responsibility, and everyone heaves a sigh of relief. Nolin also gives a magical rod of misplacing to the ecstatic cleric, and in return he gives Nolin a coin of the cat, an apparently non-magical coin that always lands the way that the person flipping it chooses.

Back in Eversink, everyone meets up. Tao is just back from visiting her family, and Nolin has been busy identifying the new items. “I’m going to do the commune” announces Velendo. Everyone troops into a Calphas’ Comfortable Castle, and just to be safe Agar looks about with zone of revelation, a spell that allows him to peer into nearby planes.

He sees someone.

In the temple they just departed, there is a hideous creature crawling on the floor. He is unnaturally gaunt, the skin of his face pulled taut against his cheekbones, and his eyes are afire with madness. Huge open sores pock his face and arms, and Agar is fascinated to see signs of creatures – slugs, maybe – moving under the man’s skin. It looks like the man was observing them, clawing at them ineffectually from his alternate plane of existence. Then, without fanfare, he vanishes.

Agar describes the sight to the other Defenders. Possibilities are considered… a manifestation of Yorrine, the God of Disease? The ghost of Alix? Hagiok the lich? One of the White Kingdom? But the man seemed to Agar to be alive, albeit in terrible pain and possibly insane.

And then someone describes Lord Griggan to Agar.

To be continued. . . .
 
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Badly disturbed, Velendo heads into the inner temple and lowers himself to his knees in front of the altar. Praying, he casts commune and speaks to Calphas. The rest of the group waits quietly behind him.

Casting the spell, he feels his God's presence fill the room, solid and reassuring as a pillar of faith.

1. "Is there magic at work that prevents or obscures Divinations targeted at any Aeosian historical figures?"

  • (after a long pause, and a shaking of the walls around him): I BELIEVE SO
2. "Could my casting of a Miracle get rid of the effects of the magic preventing or obscuring Divinations targeting Aeosian historical figures?"

  • (again, after a long pause): YES, BUT YOU RISK A HOLY WAR.
3. "Is an alliance of Necromancers and Ghouls using the ghoulish advance in the Underdark as a distraction to draw forces away from those who would bolster the Aeosian and Ioun's forces?"

  • NO.
4. "Is an alliance of Necromancers and Ghouls using the Necromancers as a distraction to draw forces away from those who would stop the advance of the Ghoulish forces of the Underdark?"

  • YES.
5. "If the Orb of the Necromancers is destroyed, will that destroy all undead for thousands of miles?"

  • YES, BUT ONLY ON THE SURFACE.
6. "Will we have a better chance of breaking the spine of the White Kingdom by assisting the aboveground assault on the Necromancers, as opposed to by our planned quest into the Underdark?"

  • NO.
7. "Is it truly the will of Aeos that the Scriptures be changed to allow for the change in His church's attitude toward undead?"

  • YES.
8. "Are the armies of Aeos and Ioun being led, wittingly or unwittingly, into a trap?"

  • NO.
9. "Would the holy war you mentioned be between the churches of Aeos and Calphas?"

  • MOST PROBABLY.
10. "Is the Divination-blocking magic the product of Aeosian casters?"

  • NO.
11. "Is the Divination-blocking magic the product of undead forces?"

  • YES.
12. "Do we currently have the means to break the Maradine family curse?"

  • I DON'T KNOW.
 
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DocMoriartty said:
You know the Aeos clerics I would think would the same answers to a Commune as Valendo got. So as long as they are not intentionally being dense they should know that there is magic blocking the divination of Sir Ghoulex.

Well, it's kind of an Emperor's New Clothes situation. The inital divinations were all thwarted by the magic covering Aleax, which is to say they confirmed him to be good, not evil. The church certainly cast Commune, but if they mentioned Aleax by name, their results were skewed by the interference. Having gotten a few positive results, the clerics of Aos weren't going to go against their god's will, and were therefore less willing to probe and ask tricky questions.

We only got this information because we asked really tricky questions. The clerics of Aos asked different questions, and so they got different answers. And having bought into the situation, they're not going to thank us for showing up wearing our "Ghouleax is an evil abomination, ask me how I know" buttons.

As for the re-writing of the book, I must admit that Nolin is curious, but not very. I mean, it's Aos' will, so it's not my problem. We're already into Aosian church politics as deep as we ever wanted to be.
 

Krellic said:
Probably me just rambling while I'm desperately waiting for the next installment. Is PC really so convoluted?

He is indeed full of nooks and crannies to catch the butter of evil. But I think that idea might be a bit much, even for him. He has wheels within wheels, but usually not wheels within wheels within wheels.
 

Following the Commune, the Defenders discuss plans. What to do about Griggan? Leave him for now, they agree, and deal with him within the week. What’s the best way of training? They desperately need to train, but they can’t afford the nineteen weeks it will take for Nolin to do so… and even Velendo needs almost that much time. Velendo is thinking of designing a Calphas’ Comfortable Castle that is filled with training gear: practice dummies, alchemy labs, crystal meditation rooms, music rooms, and so forth. He’s not positive it would work, however, as every time the spell was recast any unique items would have to be brought into the new Castle. The group is pondering this when Agar speaks up. “I know a place that might help. How do you feel about planar travel?”

“We like it,” Nolin says. “Why?”

Agar’s eyes shine. “I know a place,” he says, “known as the Citadel of Kodali’s Retreat. It’s named after a warlord who transported his entire army there. It’s in a place where time moves faster.”

Agar picks up a paperweight and gestures with it. “If I tied a string to this and swung it around, the paperweight would be moving much faster than the string at the top. My hand would just be moving a little bit to make a circle, but this paperweight would have considerably farther to travel in the same amount of time.” Agar absentmindedly slaps an invisible bug on his neck. “Kodali’s Retreat is like the paperweight… it’s at the end of the infinite planes, near the places where the multiverse grows thin. Time there moves about….” He considers for a moment, puffing on his pipe. “About 160, 170 times faster than it does here. An hour on the Prime is equal to about a week in the Citadel. You could train and be home within a day!” His cherubic face grows serious. “There’s probably other creatures and people there, of course, but it’s unlikely that they’ll try to fight us. When I was there before, I saw signs that creatures who come to fight go… elsewhere.” He shivers, flicks an invisible ant off of his sleeve, then smiles. “A legend lore, a plane shift, and we’re there!”

First, though, Velendo does a sending to Splinder. Splinder is a former follower of Tao’s, a dwarf who is leading a company of dwarven warriors to meet the Defenders and descend into the Underdark. Casting the spell, Velendo asks him where they are.

“We’re a little busy right now fighting river trolls,” the answer comes back, “but we should make it to Eversink within four days.”

Concerned, Nolin swings an ornately carved mirror towards him and casts greater scrying. He sees three squads of dwarves in a defensive position, using tactics and long spears to hold back eight drooling, scuttling trolls. No one has been killed – except for one of the trolls – but a number of the dwarves look hurt. “Grab your gear, everyone!” exclaims Nolin. “We’re going in to help!”

To be continued….
 
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Of course PC has it in for paladins.

PC is a DM. It is a DM's job to perplex and torment the heroic players. A DM must concoct and develop schemes and monsters and tactics and strategies against the wiles of the player characters who try to restore a level of buttery goodness to the world the DM presents to them. A DM is evil, and thus hates the self-righteous paladin characters. A DM is neutral, appreciating the hard work, but offput by the extremist personality and religious beliefs of a paladin. A DM is good, inspiring and loving the rapturous joy that is the paladin. Yes, a DM is all of these things; this is the nature of a DM.

But when push comes to shove, you know that the DM is creating his evil creations, laughing maniacally with glee as he envisions the torments that he puts them through and schemes of ways to wipe that smug grin off of those blessed paladins. Oh sure, they think they're better than everyone else, don't they. Oh, he'll show them. Yes, he'll show them and their little intelligent sword Aleax too.

(By the way, my money is on this: The sword has been magicked with the abilities of paladins or picks up the personalities of the paladins who have wielded it at the point of their deaths. Ghouleax is, as far as he himself can tell, the real deal, however he was indeed raised by the White Kingdom with certain information leaked to him in order to throw the church of Aeos into turmoil and off of the proper trail. The soul that was rejoined to the undead body is the sainted soul of Aleax, regardless of how it came to be, and thus cannot be damnable by Aeos. This is the reason for the change in the scripture. This also explains the source of the potential holy war between the two churches, as the Calphites will see the Saint as an abomination that must be destroyed regardless of soul, whereas the Aeosians will fight to protect him.

Then again, I could simply be talking out my ass. After all, I only started reading this thing after PC got 70k odd page views. <grin> )
 

Warm blood dripping into his eyes, Splinder the Dwarven Captain grimaces. His thirty troops are arrayed in a half-square around him, each front rank equipped with shield and oil, each back rank equipped with sharp-bladed long spears. “Keep yer guard up, boys! They’ll break before long… they’re hungry. Try to kill the one in armor first.”

“Tell us somethin’ we don’t know, Captain,” spits Rogon bitterly. He has claw marks across his throat, as he was “lucky” enough to be the first one attacked by the nine aquatic trolls. He shifts his spear slightly and glares at the trollish leader, the monster with wormlike hair dangling from its rusted helm, patched-together metal armor, and a look in its eyes that says it knows it’s already won.

“Discipline, Rogon,” growls Splinder with a hiint of anger. “First rank: ready oil. Torchbearers, be ready to light. Rea….” The splintering of light from behind him catches him off guard. Spinning his head, he sees the heroes that he first met thousands of miles away, in the middle of a desert, next to a mountain that ate anyone living who tried to climb it. With them is a handful of people he doesn’t recognize. “’bout time!” he tells Tao by way of greeting. Tao smiles… and the mass haste goes off.

The trolls don’t stand a chance.

The flame strikes hammer down from the skies as fireballs roll outwards. Searing lights rip through regenerating flesh, and magical weapons slice through green and warty skin. The beasts howl in pain and counterattack, but the dwarves have their strategies straight; they use their shield wall and long spears to keep most of the beasts at bay as the Defenders take them apart piece by piece.

The troll leader, a loathsome and hunched male with rusted armor and sharpened claws, gives the most challenge. He fights fiercely, spittle flying as he throws himself at the Defenders in an insane rage, but he’s clearly outclassed. Thirty seconds after the Defender’s arrival, troll corpses are being cooked with oil and fire, and the dwarves’ wounds are being treated by clerics.

“Efficient,” notes Splinder. “You’ve been practicing.”

Velendo surveys the well disciplined dwarves. “You have too,” he says jealously. “I wish we had a fragment of your tactics.”

Splinder slaps him familiarly on the small of the back. “We’ll teach you,” he offers, and they sit down to discuss strategy.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The Defenders send the dwarves on to Eversink, and make a whirlwind trip back to their home country of Gaunt. Nolin says goodbye, for what seems like the fifteenth time, to his daughter. “I may not be coming back,” he explains, as the ten year girl eyes him skeptically. “Uh huh,” says Tasha. “You always say that. Aunt Cadrienne says it’s just to get attention, and Aunt Kiri agrees.” As he hugs his daughter and his aging mother, Nolin makes a mental note to have a word with his old adventuring companions.

Meanwhile, TomTom and Agar have gone to see the King to deliver the blackmail materials that they found and to offer a report on the current political situation. Unfortunately, they are intercepted by their least favorite chamberlain. “Thousands of gold pieces on clothing alone!” he screams at them, his thin voice rising like a fishwife's. “And hundreds of thousands for bail. And the entire reputation of our country soiled, and.. and… that woman possibly marrying the Prince, and you killing the most important person in the city, and….” His face goes red with rage as he turns apoplectic, and Agar and TomTom finally have a chance to get a word in edgewise about their mission and report.

Finally back in Eversink, Velendo raises the subject that no one wants to talk about. “We’ve got to do something about Griggan,” he states flatly. “He’s miserable in there, and we’ve left him to suffer.”

Malachite and Mara look surprised. “What’s this? I knew nothing of this.”

The party members who did know of Griggan’s unfortunate fate look around a little guiltily. “Well, he’s stuck in a demi-plane, and we have to get him out. He’s been there three or four months with nothing to eat, so he’s probably pretty hungry.”

“And crazy,” adds Agar.

“And crazy,” admits Velendo. “We have to help him. But after we do, how can we stop him from poisoning the city against us, or using all the information he’s learned against his political foes, or sabotaging Shara’s bid for his house, or…?”

“Or doing something awful to his wife, Lady Brea,” adds Nolin. “She’s carrying a half-elven baby. My half-brother, thanks to my no good philandering can’t-keep-it-in-his-pants father. Griggan knows, and he’ll certainly have it killed.”

“Huh.” Everyone thinks. And then a plan is hatched.

To be continued!
 
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Into the Woods

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