Rel
Liquid Awesome
Re: Good Stuff!
In answer to Broc's question above, the body count for the Gnolls in the initial attack was somewhere around 20. Hard to tell exactly because I was "recycling" some of the plastic figures I was using.
Darklone, glad to have you as a reader! I dunno about a "crossover" episode between the campaigns, but if Old One ever makes it back down here to NC, I sure wouldn't mind sitting in on one of his games.
Howzabout this:
Deceit and Death
The night passed uneventfully without any incursions by the Gnolls. As the dawn broke over the fog-shrouded valley, the party rose from their bedrolls and ate a cold breakfast. They waited quietly for the arrival of the Gnoll representative.
Just as the fog was beginning to break up, they began to hear noises from the woods to the west. Slowly, by twos and threes, Gnolls emerged from the tree line and took up cautious stances 50 to 100 feet from the base of the tower until approximately 30 of them stood outside. A trio of Gnolls bearing heavy flails (which tentatively identified them as priests) made their way to the center of the group.
"We have come for the Flail as you asked. Where is it?"
Rhys made his way out onto the tower roof, closely followed by Speaks and Krase. Rhys addressed the gathered Gnolls in their own tongue, "We have your flail. But you won't get it back yet. We have come here on behalf of he that owns this tower. He will be returning soon and he finds your presence in the town unacceptable. You are to leave immediately or suffer more of our wrath."
"As to the matter of your flail," Rhys continued, "we could give it back to you. But we thought it would be more sporting if we allowed you the opportunity to 'win it back'. If you want the flail, you will have to fight for it.
Our finest warrior will battle yours and if ours wins, you leave without the flail. If yours wins, you leave with it."
The Gnolls grumbled among themselves for a moment. Then their priest spoke again, "This battle shall be to the death?"
"Yes." Rhys confidently replied.
"And there shall be no outside interference by us or by you?" asked the Gnoll.
"That is correct," said Rhys.
"We accept!"
Speaks kept watch atop the tower roof as Rhys and Krase descended and lowered the drawbridge. As they did so, Rhys cast Cat's Grace on the warrior to give him an extra edge. Then the pair of them walked confidently out onto the platform atop the stairs outside the tower and marched out to meet with the Gnolls.
"Have you selected your champion?" Rhys asked with a hint of disdain.
"We have," replied the Gnoll and gestured before adding, "Urrgol!"
Through the crowd of Gnolls stepped what was easily the largest Gnoll any of them had ever seen. If the top of his head was shy of eight feet, the tops of his ears certainly weren't. Tufts of fur protruded from the suit of chainmail he wore and his heavily muscled arm hefted an enormous greatsword.
As Rhys once again began to talk with the Gnoll priest, Speaks gazed down at the Gnollish warrior and had a flash of recognition. He had last seen this warrior mired in mud on the bank of the Fodor as he, Arc and Ilrath had paddled away to safety. This was the Gnoll who had chased them across the western wilds with his hunting parties those many months ago, before they were regarded as heroes.
Meanwhile Rhys discussed the terms of the duel with the priest. The Gnoll explained that when his people fought, they did so within a circle. Any who left the circle of their own will lost the battle and their life was forfeit for the victor to do with as he pleased. He further explained that whoever was challenged was given the choice of how large the circle was to be.
Rhys agreed to this so long as the circle was no smaller than eight paces across.
The priest quickly paced off a ten pace circle and the gnolls hastily drew the rudiments of a circle in the dirt. Krase took a position at the circle's edge nearest the tower and Urrgol stood opposite him. Rhys leaned in to Krase as he walked by and said, "I'll wait atop the stairs. If they try anything funny, I'm getting you out of here." Krase nodded and collected himself for a duel with his hated enemy.
Moments later, the priest barked, "Begin!"
Krase was quicker to react than the hulking Gnoll. As he had stood waiting for the fight to start he had debated several different strategies. Now he simply rushed forward and slashed at the Gnoll with Heartneedle and unfortunately missed.
In turn, the Gnoll hauled back with his greatsword and swung with all his might, pounding into Krase's side and nearly knocking him to the ground (Rolled a 20 on the first swing - confirmed crit for 29 points of damage). A cheer rang out from the surrounding Gnolls.
Krase shook his head with shock but quickly recovered himself and slashed away with his twin blades. His defensive training kicked in and he attacked more timidly, reserving some of his energy to try to fend off any further blows from the Gnoll. Only Heartneedle found its mark but at least he had paid back the Gnoll with blood.
Urrgol was pleased and confident after his initial swing. He would finish this puny human off in moments and then they would recover the Fists of Yeenoghu, one way or another. He swung his sword with reckless abandon putting his full weight behind the swing while sacrificing some accuracy. Krase dodged the blow with no trouble and the tip of the greatsword dug into the moist soil.
Krase let fly with another pair of slashes, continuing to be mindful of the powerful blows aimed at him by Urrgol. This time Heartneedle lodged harmlessly in one of the rugged chain links of the Gnoll's armor. But his other blade cut a shallow wound along the calf of the beast. "Slow and steady," he told himself.
Urrgol hacked again with his sword but the powerful cut again went far wide of its target. The cautious human was turning out to be tougher to hit than he had anticipated. He decided to be more careful with his strikes, sacrificing some of the fury he put into his blows. He also stepped slightly to the side, seeking to disrupt the concentration of the human warrior with his sudden move.
Krase noted the sidestep by the Gnoll. It left a direct line between himself and the Gnoll shamans. He knew he couldn't trust them so he too stepped to the side, keeping the immensity of the Gnoll between him and the treacherous priests. He slashed out with his swords again. Heartneedle failed him again but the blade in his off hand put a cut in the smelly hide of his adversary.
Urrgol noted the nervous way the human had reacted to his maneuvering. He repeated the move, this time to the inside of the circle. If the human panicked and stepped outside the circle, his life was over. He then swung his mighty sword and this time his aim was true. It was not as mighty as the first blow he had struck but he felt the human stagger under the weight of it.
Krase was becoming very hard pressed. He knew that one more such blow would be the end of him. Foregoing his attacks, he stepped just beyond the reach of the Gnoll and drank a potion he hastily snatched from his belt. He felt slightly better but was a long way from healthy.
The Gnolls howled in anger at this move (it being a clear departure from their long standing tradition of "smashing each other in the face until someone is dead" style of battle). Urrgol growled. If the human had tried that trick within his reach, he'd have lost his head for it. He stepped forward and lashed out with his blade. But his anger made the blow clumsy and Krase easily dodged it.
Krase's blades cleaved away at the enraged Gnoll more aggressively now. He let loose his own growl of frustration as Heartneedle slid harmlessly off the side of the Gnoll's armor. But his other sword continued to prove it's worth, digging a deep notch into the thigh of his opponent.
Urrgol roared in pain and frustration. He swung his hefty blade straight out in a flat arc that could easily have decapitated the young human. But again, the nimble warrior ducked under his blow and escaped unharmed.
Krase allowed himself a slight smile. The Gnoll was losing focus and getting sloppy. A few more nicks and cuts and the blood loss would do him in. He let fly another pair of slashed. As seemed to be the trend for the day, Heartneedle failed to connect while his other blade left blood oozing from a fresh cut across the Gnoll's forearm.
The Gnoll let loose a roar that sent blood-flecked foam sailing from his jaws. Krase anticipated another powerful but clumsy swing from the enraged beast. Instead, Urrgol dropped low and reversed his swing, spinning the opposite direction and catching the young warrior from Glynden off guard. The blade bit low, just under the protection of his mithral breastplate and severed flesh and bone.
Krase Sandoval, hero in the lands of the Fodor and champion among the peoples of Glynden, toppled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.
As Speaks and Rhys gazed on in horror, Urrgol held aloft his victorious sword. A moment later, he reversed his grip, clearly meaning to drive the point of the enormous blade into Krase's breast. Rhys snapped into action pulling forth a scroll he had earmarked for just this eventuality. He hastily read the arcane words and as he spoke, Krase's limp body began to Levitate into the air until it rose to a height of 20 feet.
Urrgol was completely taken off guard by this as were the rest of the Gnolls who stared on in anger and disbelief that the victory of their champion was about to be stolen away by such deceitful magic.
Speaks tried to buy them a momentary distraction by attempting to hold to at least a bit of their bargain. He pitched the Flail off the tower roof, into the midst of the Gnolls, saying, "Your champion has prevailed. Take your Flail and leave!" He then prepared himself to transform into an eagle, hoping he might be able to drag Krase to safety before he died.
But his voice was drowned out by that of the Gnoll priest who shouted, "They have broken their word! Kill them all!"
Every Gnoll began to grab at whatever missile weapons he had on his person (primarily javelins with a few short bows mixed in).
Rhys concentrated a moment, lifting Krase higher above the crowd of angry Gnolls (to a total height of 40 feet) before he retreated inside the tower, out of the line of fire and toward the windlass that would raise the drawbridge. As Krase's unconscious form rose above the crowd, his hand still loosely clutched the hilt of Heartneedle, which, until today had never failed him.
Suddenly an attack came from a completely unexpected quarter. From the woods south of the clearing, Speaks spotted some movement and then saw the dog-lizards they had spotted up on the ridgeline. Before this fully registered, three glowing bolts of energy shot from the treeline and slammed into the hovering body of Krase.
His unconscious form arched in pain and then hung limply in the air. Speaks let out a cry of anguish but his only answer was the shining mithral blade of Heartneedle, tumbling out of the grasp of the young warrior. Its mirror surface reflected the rays of the morning sun off of the last wisps of fog in a scene far too beautiful for the horror it truly contained.
Just then, Rhys sent a message to Speaks via his amulet of communication as he cranked the windlass with all his might: "I've got to get the drawbridge up! You better go get Krase!"
Speaks used his own amulet. He replied numbly, "I'm afraid that Krase is beyond our help." Moments later, anger flashed in the Druid's eyes and magic flashed from his hands…
NEXT: Blood and Fire
In answer to Broc's question above, the body count for the Gnolls in the initial attack was somewhere around 20. Hard to tell exactly because I was "recycling" some of the plastic figures I was using.
Darklone, glad to have you as a reader! I dunno about a "crossover" episode between the campaigns, but if Old One ever makes it back down here to NC, I sure wouldn't mind sitting in on one of his games.
Old One said:
Howzabout this:
Deceit and Death
The night passed uneventfully without any incursions by the Gnolls. As the dawn broke over the fog-shrouded valley, the party rose from their bedrolls and ate a cold breakfast. They waited quietly for the arrival of the Gnoll representative.
Just as the fog was beginning to break up, they began to hear noises from the woods to the west. Slowly, by twos and threes, Gnolls emerged from the tree line and took up cautious stances 50 to 100 feet from the base of the tower until approximately 30 of them stood outside. A trio of Gnolls bearing heavy flails (which tentatively identified them as priests) made their way to the center of the group.
"We have come for the Flail as you asked. Where is it?"
Rhys made his way out onto the tower roof, closely followed by Speaks and Krase. Rhys addressed the gathered Gnolls in their own tongue, "We have your flail. But you won't get it back yet. We have come here on behalf of he that owns this tower. He will be returning soon and he finds your presence in the town unacceptable. You are to leave immediately or suffer more of our wrath."
"As to the matter of your flail," Rhys continued, "we could give it back to you. But we thought it would be more sporting if we allowed you the opportunity to 'win it back'. If you want the flail, you will have to fight for it.
Our finest warrior will battle yours and if ours wins, you leave without the flail. If yours wins, you leave with it."
The Gnolls grumbled among themselves for a moment. Then their priest spoke again, "This battle shall be to the death?"
"Yes." Rhys confidently replied.
"And there shall be no outside interference by us or by you?" asked the Gnoll.
"That is correct," said Rhys.
"We accept!"
Speaks kept watch atop the tower roof as Rhys and Krase descended and lowered the drawbridge. As they did so, Rhys cast Cat's Grace on the warrior to give him an extra edge. Then the pair of them walked confidently out onto the platform atop the stairs outside the tower and marched out to meet with the Gnolls.
"Have you selected your champion?" Rhys asked with a hint of disdain.
"We have," replied the Gnoll and gestured before adding, "Urrgol!"
Through the crowd of Gnolls stepped what was easily the largest Gnoll any of them had ever seen. If the top of his head was shy of eight feet, the tops of his ears certainly weren't. Tufts of fur protruded from the suit of chainmail he wore and his heavily muscled arm hefted an enormous greatsword.
As Rhys once again began to talk with the Gnoll priest, Speaks gazed down at the Gnollish warrior and had a flash of recognition. He had last seen this warrior mired in mud on the bank of the Fodor as he, Arc and Ilrath had paddled away to safety. This was the Gnoll who had chased them across the western wilds with his hunting parties those many months ago, before they were regarded as heroes.
Meanwhile Rhys discussed the terms of the duel with the priest. The Gnoll explained that when his people fought, they did so within a circle. Any who left the circle of their own will lost the battle and their life was forfeit for the victor to do with as he pleased. He further explained that whoever was challenged was given the choice of how large the circle was to be.
Rhys agreed to this so long as the circle was no smaller than eight paces across.
The priest quickly paced off a ten pace circle and the gnolls hastily drew the rudiments of a circle in the dirt. Krase took a position at the circle's edge nearest the tower and Urrgol stood opposite him. Rhys leaned in to Krase as he walked by and said, "I'll wait atop the stairs. If they try anything funny, I'm getting you out of here." Krase nodded and collected himself for a duel with his hated enemy.
Moments later, the priest barked, "Begin!"
Krase was quicker to react than the hulking Gnoll. As he had stood waiting for the fight to start he had debated several different strategies. Now he simply rushed forward and slashed at the Gnoll with Heartneedle and unfortunately missed.
In turn, the Gnoll hauled back with his greatsword and swung with all his might, pounding into Krase's side and nearly knocking him to the ground (Rolled a 20 on the first swing - confirmed crit for 29 points of damage). A cheer rang out from the surrounding Gnolls.
Krase shook his head with shock but quickly recovered himself and slashed away with his twin blades. His defensive training kicked in and he attacked more timidly, reserving some of his energy to try to fend off any further blows from the Gnoll. Only Heartneedle found its mark but at least he had paid back the Gnoll with blood.
Urrgol was pleased and confident after his initial swing. He would finish this puny human off in moments and then they would recover the Fists of Yeenoghu, one way or another. He swung his sword with reckless abandon putting his full weight behind the swing while sacrificing some accuracy. Krase dodged the blow with no trouble and the tip of the greatsword dug into the moist soil.
Krase let fly with another pair of slashes, continuing to be mindful of the powerful blows aimed at him by Urrgol. This time Heartneedle lodged harmlessly in one of the rugged chain links of the Gnoll's armor. But his other blade cut a shallow wound along the calf of the beast. "Slow and steady," he told himself.
Urrgol hacked again with his sword but the powerful cut again went far wide of its target. The cautious human was turning out to be tougher to hit than he had anticipated. He decided to be more careful with his strikes, sacrificing some of the fury he put into his blows. He also stepped slightly to the side, seeking to disrupt the concentration of the human warrior with his sudden move.
Krase noted the sidestep by the Gnoll. It left a direct line between himself and the Gnoll shamans. He knew he couldn't trust them so he too stepped to the side, keeping the immensity of the Gnoll between him and the treacherous priests. He slashed out with his swords again. Heartneedle failed him again but the blade in his off hand put a cut in the smelly hide of his adversary.
Urrgol noted the nervous way the human had reacted to his maneuvering. He repeated the move, this time to the inside of the circle. If the human panicked and stepped outside the circle, his life was over. He then swung his mighty sword and this time his aim was true. It was not as mighty as the first blow he had struck but he felt the human stagger under the weight of it.
Krase was becoming very hard pressed. He knew that one more such blow would be the end of him. Foregoing his attacks, he stepped just beyond the reach of the Gnoll and drank a potion he hastily snatched from his belt. He felt slightly better but was a long way from healthy.
The Gnolls howled in anger at this move (it being a clear departure from their long standing tradition of "smashing each other in the face until someone is dead" style of battle). Urrgol growled. If the human had tried that trick within his reach, he'd have lost his head for it. He stepped forward and lashed out with his blade. But his anger made the blow clumsy and Krase easily dodged it.
Krase's blades cleaved away at the enraged Gnoll more aggressively now. He let loose his own growl of frustration as Heartneedle slid harmlessly off the side of the Gnoll's armor. But his other sword continued to prove it's worth, digging a deep notch into the thigh of his opponent.
Urrgol roared in pain and frustration. He swung his hefty blade straight out in a flat arc that could easily have decapitated the young human. But again, the nimble warrior ducked under his blow and escaped unharmed.
Krase allowed himself a slight smile. The Gnoll was losing focus and getting sloppy. A few more nicks and cuts and the blood loss would do him in. He let fly another pair of slashed. As seemed to be the trend for the day, Heartneedle failed to connect while his other blade left blood oozing from a fresh cut across the Gnoll's forearm.
The Gnoll let loose a roar that sent blood-flecked foam sailing from his jaws. Krase anticipated another powerful but clumsy swing from the enraged beast. Instead, Urrgol dropped low and reversed his swing, spinning the opposite direction and catching the young warrior from Glynden off guard. The blade bit low, just under the protection of his mithral breastplate and severed flesh and bone.
Krase Sandoval, hero in the lands of the Fodor and champion among the peoples of Glynden, toppled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.
As Speaks and Rhys gazed on in horror, Urrgol held aloft his victorious sword. A moment later, he reversed his grip, clearly meaning to drive the point of the enormous blade into Krase's breast. Rhys snapped into action pulling forth a scroll he had earmarked for just this eventuality. He hastily read the arcane words and as he spoke, Krase's limp body began to Levitate into the air until it rose to a height of 20 feet.
Urrgol was completely taken off guard by this as were the rest of the Gnolls who stared on in anger and disbelief that the victory of their champion was about to be stolen away by such deceitful magic.
Speaks tried to buy them a momentary distraction by attempting to hold to at least a bit of their bargain. He pitched the Flail off the tower roof, into the midst of the Gnolls, saying, "Your champion has prevailed. Take your Flail and leave!" He then prepared himself to transform into an eagle, hoping he might be able to drag Krase to safety before he died.
But his voice was drowned out by that of the Gnoll priest who shouted, "They have broken their word! Kill them all!"
Every Gnoll began to grab at whatever missile weapons he had on his person (primarily javelins with a few short bows mixed in).
Rhys concentrated a moment, lifting Krase higher above the crowd of angry Gnolls (to a total height of 40 feet) before he retreated inside the tower, out of the line of fire and toward the windlass that would raise the drawbridge. As Krase's unconscious form rose above the crowd, his hand still loosely clutched the hilt of Heartneedle, which, until today had never failed him.
Suddenly an attack came from a completely unexpected quarter. From the woods south of the clearing, Speaks spotted some movement and then saw the dog-lizards they had spotted up on the ridgeline. Before this fully registered, three glowing bolts of energy shot from the treeline and slammed into the hovering body of Krase.
His unconscious form arched in pain and then hung limply in the air. Speaks let out a cry of anguish but his only answer was the shining mithral blade of Heartneedle, tumbling out of the grasp of the young warrior. Its mirror surface reflected the rays of the morning sun off of the last wisps of fog in a scene far too beautiful for the horror it truly contained.
Just then, Rhys sent a message to Speaks via his amulet of communication as he cranked the windlass with all his might: "I've got to get the drawbridge up! You better go get Krase!"
Speaks used his own amulet. He replied numbly, "I'm afraid that Krase is beyond our help." Moments later, anger flashed in the Druid's eyes and magic flashed from his hands…
NEXT: Blood and Fire
).
, but I too am beginning to learn that PCs can be expendable. If the players do rash/foolish things there can be consequences. 
