jmucchiello said:
Good Stuff.
Only one thing bugged me. That was having the new PC start 3 levels lower than the lowest level PC. While that in itself isn't bad. It isn't very fair when the lowest level PC is lowest because he spends XP on magic items. Personally, if I were using a 3 levels lower rule I would base it on the level each PC would be if he hadn't spent XP on magic items or spellcasting. I'm guessing SADUUL is actually one of the PCs with the highest earned XP in the group.
MOO (memories of Diablo II ...)
I brought this up.
The Monk was retconned to 9th level and STILL leveled. (YAY!) He took Firewhip Kick for his ability (We use variant monks, in case you can't tell) which gives the awesome ability to kick EVERYONE within 5' with various penalties.
The XP had been totalled up, and it was time to move up levels. I made it by 425 XP. It was close. That boosts my firepower. BUT we also had a new problem...
Our long range seabird scouts reported to the druid that they saw ships with "flats full of shiney men-things" on thier way. Ever try to ask a bird how many of something there are? You get answers that are either "Yes" or "No." Damn things have no concept of numbers.
They're between the resupply island and us. We're going to have to take that island sooner or later. By the time ships get to it, thier fresh water is brackish and thier food is going bad. If we can raze that to the ground, we can keep them back awhile longer.
And well, we all know what will happen to the 400+ people manning that station, don't we.
"Saaaay, are you fireproof?"
BUT, back to the game...
So, we come limping back from the pyramid. We're challenged by the guards that the settlers had thrown up, and we come inside. They'd seen all the pyrotechnics and heard all the screaming ("MOOOOOOO!") and the children were all huddled in the central shelter that was finished, and my stupid skeletons were guarding everyone by butchering crabs and other things washing up on the beach. I swear, they get dumber every day.
We begin taking stock. Everyone is wounded, the Barbarian and Saduul are the worst injured, but the cleric and druid both are out of healing spells. Five settler women are in labour, two children are missing, and some doofus got stung by a jellyfish.
Saduul staggers to his hut, uses his scroll of
Warded Shelter and crawls into his bed.
The alarm goes off, and Saduul comes up ready to fight, only to see Spring Heeled Jack poking his head out of the sand and looking around. With a dry hiss, SHJ disappears into the sand and the lump burrows away.
With curses, Saduul goes back to sleep.
Other people did thier stuff. Druid praising the stars and moon, the cleric working on the altar to his/her god, the fighters drinking fermented berry juice out of dried gourds with the barbarian and bragging, and the rogue and ranger going out looking for the kids.
I'm looking at my spells, and trying to figure out what to do next while the rest of the party is just having thier PC's relax. The monk is practicing his Firewhip Kick.
Morning comes, and disaster has struck.
Well, for me.
One of the settlers has used my spellbook as construction materials. The iron binding was cut apart and used to attach poles and boards, the paper was greased and used as windows, and the front and back covers were used as shutters on this illiterate assclown house.
Yup, I'm down a spellbook.
And it's all my damn fault. Saduul had left his spellbook by the construction material because of the sudden attack. I've got NO spells memorized, I've suffered massive blood and arcane burn, so all I have left is my arcane burn feats.
Many people in the community begin lamenting, and Saduul is PISSED! He wants the guy hung, right there, and his hovel torn down. Cooler heads prevail, and a trail is agreed too. The monk agrees to act as the judge (Lawful Evil, BTW, with a STRICT code of conduct and monkly vows), the rogue as defense, and the ranger as prosecution.
Twelve settlers are chosen by random lot to act as jurors. The barbarian is standing by to mete out whatever justice is necessary. Saduul is tied up with a silence spell on him, and the cleric has turned the skeletons to keep them away from what is obviously a tense situation.
The truth comes out. He knew it was Saduul's spellbook, but figured that since Saduul had left it there (a lie according to the cleric's spell) and it eventually came out that he did it to "protect the kids and women" from Saduul.
The ranger tells how Saduul's firepower is all that has kept massive amounts of casualties from happening, and how niether Saduul nor his undead minions have ever killed or harmed any of the settlers (barring
meatsack the failed apprentice) and that it was a crime against the settlement.
The rogue speaks only of the person's concern for the settlement.
Then a suprise witness comes forward, claiming to have been raped by the defendant. And another. And another. And about a dozen more, including a young woman who claims the defendant killed her husband in order to rape her the entire sea voyage.
We burn him at the stake.
Saduul, the monk, the ranger, and the rogue go to the pyramid for "supplies", bringing back cowmen skin, and Saduul begins rebuilding his spellbook. Knowledge Arcana and Spellcraft checks abound.
I drop 350 XP in order to create a "new type" of spellbook. Think heat-dependant braille.
The week passes pretty quietly, I'm out of action while the rest of the party goes to the goblin, kobold, savage human, orc, and of all things, gnoll tribe. There's a couple of frantic fights in the jungle, but none I take part in.
I'm rebuilding my spellbook, and crafting the monk's Cestus of Warfire for him. He had to sacrifice the XP, and did so happily. Anything that pushes up his combat firepower is welcome to him.
The gnolls agree to ally with us, providing one of us can beat thier champion. A huge, cruel looking, and scarification tattooed gnoll wielding a pair of iron bars joined by a short chain. We go the village, and I've got a handful of spells memorized (I started with the highest and am working my way down) but can still tell I'm lacking in the spell capacity department.
The shaman, wearing the skin of a cowman over his shoulders, and the skull of a bear on his head, draws the combat circle and dances in the middle for awhile. And out steps the tribal champion. He's HUGE! 12' tall and ready to kick ass. He's got claw mark scars on his chest, back, legs, forearms, biceps, is missing an ear, and has scars on his face.
"Watch it, his totem's got his back." the cleric warns. "Saduul, watch the crowd, get ready."
The monk steps in, and the crowd hisses a clicking hiss, kinda creepy sound, and growls. The champion raises his arms, blocking out the sun to the monk, and the crowd barks and yips and stamps thier feet.
The shaman uses a rock filled gourd ended mace to break the skull of an infant cowman (just the skull, obviously dug up) and the fight is on. The monk goes to defensive fighting, and Saduul is warming up the new Saduul Special. A LOT of firepower. (18d10 worth the 40 foot fireball. I can only do it once, and the backlash will burn me for 6d4) Just in case the crowd gets too ugly.
The fight is brutal, and ugly. Twice the monk is almost pushed out of the circle, and lands on his back two other times, but manages to avoid the killing blows that the bearman is attempting. (A gnoll kind of looks like the local "coconut bears" the are in the trees) Then he gets lucky with a Pheonix Claw, and critically wounds the bearman. He goes down to one knee, stunned and mostly unconscious.
The crowd is at a frenzy, stamping and growling.
"FINISH HIM!" the fighter yells.
"He is disabled and vanquished." the monk replies.
"Don't step out. This is to the death." the fighter informs the monk.
"WHAT? YOU PUT ME IN A DEATH MATCH?" (the player knew, the character didn't)
"FINISH HIM!" the rogue screams, jumping up and down.
The bearman lunges and tries to bite the monk, who dodges, and the bearman sprawls out.
"FINISH HIM!" the cleric yells.
The monk rears back and stamps on the bearman's spine, shattering it and killing him. The bearmen (gnolls) whine and cry in lament as the tribes new champion stands bloody, battered, but victorious. He picks up the cruel bronze weapon, and shatters it with a spinning kick (nice hit and roll) and then poses.
The shaman comes forward, and whips up a knife, slashing the monk's cheek three times. Then the tribe breaks out in a big celebration, showering meat, milk, blood & milk in gourds, and "comely virgins" upon him.
We spend the night, and escort our limping, but victorious monk back to the settlement.
(I've gotta hit class, more later)
The ships are 6 days away. By asking 1 bird to look at 1 ship, and come back, we found out that there are 12 ships coming in.
I don't have any spells lower than 3rd level. The monk is pretty beat up.
And the cleric's spells just quit working.
That night, he/she falls into a coma, coinciding with his/her altar bursting into flame that hurts nothing, but completely consumes the altar. The resounding scream of despair and agony ringing from the immolating altar wakes everyone up.
Things are looking bad for the home team.
