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Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Sagiro said:
Gee, would that be the round that my fellow party members tried to kill me, or perhaps the round that my fellow party members tried to kill me?
I missed the game under discussion, only the second or third in 7 years, and my fellow players apparently tried to get out their hostilities by -- well, you'll see. But let's just say Dranko went from something like 136 hit points to around -8 in the space of one or two rounds.
That wouldn't be so bad if he had ever gotten hit by a stinkin' giant....
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
No, that little... incident... occurred near the end of the battle. (At least, it's the last thing Dranko remembers!Piratecat said:
Gee, would that be the round that my fellow party members tried to kill me, or perhaps the round that my fellow party members tried to kill me?
I missed the game under discussion, only the second or third in 7 years, and my fellow players apparently tried to get out their hostilities by -- well, you'll see. But let's just say Dranko went from something like 136 hit points to around -8 in the space of one or two rounds.
That wouldn't be so bad if he had ever gotten hit by a stinkin' giant....
) I'm about 3 or 4 updates away from that "unfortunate accident."
-Sagiro
You think you have it bad! I have a Cohort in the party I DM, so when XP is handed out, I divide the total by 17 (8 characters and 1 cohort) then give everyone 2 shares except the cohort.
Except, I forgot that a few months ago and only divided by 9 before handing out 2 shares per person.
They were all getting +100% XP!
No wonder a group of 8 characters STILL managed to keep up with the suggested levels of a 4 character party ...
Except, I forgot that a few months ago and only divided by 9 before handing out 2 shares per person.
They were all getting +100% XP!
No wonder a group of 8 characters STILL managed to keep up with the suggested levels of a 4 character party ...
coyote6
Adventurer
Sagiro said:
Oh, you have no idea how many times I've done that.
I turn the cards of readying/delaying people sideways, so they stick out and hopefully Clue Me In to do something with 'em. But I still forget ("Oops, he was supposed to try to interrupt the spellcaster. Dammit!"). Or when I divide the attacking (say) orcs into more than one group for initiative -- I'll forget and have them all go at once, or I'll forget to have one group go at all. Gah.
The other GM in our group sometimes turns the cards over as he goes through; end of the deck, flip it over & continue. However, when dealing with an interruption (readied actions, etc.), he has, once or twice, gone back and started going through the "discard pile". Meaning he ends up going through the initiative in reverse.
I get dirty looks from other players for reminding the GM, "Hey, the evil wizard didn't go."
As for comprehend languages -- uh, wow. Does it say that in the PH? Boy, have we messed that one up . . .
Yeah, it's in the PHB and the SRD. I only know because a player wanted a Helm of Comprehend Languages and Read Magic, and I wondered why it was so darn cheap.
IMO there's design space for a 2nd level "listen only, at range" spell, between comprehend languages and tongues.
IMO there's design space for a 2nd level "listen only, at range" spell, between comprehend languages and tongues.
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
It's comforting to know I'm not the only one whose DM-ing is less than foolproof.
Short update tonight:
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 186
Amazingly enough, nothing goes wrong!
The chimney is smokey and full of rising soot and embers. Dranko floats down toward the fireplace, hoping to catch sounds of Eigomic talking, but all he hears is the roar of the fire. He’s about to just fly out and past the fire (and into the room) when he realizes that all the soot will render his invisibility rather moot. So just before exiting the chimney Dranko casts a clean orison himself, counting on the roaring flames to drown out the sound of his casting. The fire flutters for a moment as Dranko flies into the room but none of the giants in the place are looking that way.
The room into which Dranko emerges is huge. Almost two dozen giants are there, some of them sparring, some of them sitting at tables, talking and drinking. Racks of giant-sized weapons stand propped up against the walls. He’s in the commons of a barracks! Dranko is not in time to hear what Eigomic is saying to a trio of other giants, but it’s soon clear what’s going on.
The Keeper is obtaining bodyguards.
When Eigomic leaves the building he has half a dozen strong club-wielding giants in tow. Dranko surreptitiously follows them out the door. He hardly needs to report what he saw; the others can plainly see Eigomic leave the building surrounded by six guards. The troop of them goes back to Eigomic’s house.
“Our situation has not improved,” notes Step dourly. “Now not only do they have twelve guards at the tower, but Eigomic, who probably has the key, has guards of his own. What do we do now?”
They cogitate for a few minutes, half-heartedly making plans that won’t work.
“Wait,” says Ernie, brightening. “Morningstar, you still have some unused spell slots, right? You should fill one with locate object. We can find the key with magic.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” explains Dranko. “We’ve never seen the key. That spell will just find the nearest key to the caster.”
“True,” says Ernie, grinning. “But how many keys in this giantish city do you think fit into human-sized keyholes? Moriningstar can locate ‘the nearest human-sized key.’ That should at least verify where it is.”
Everyone marvels at Ernie’s cleverness while Morningstar prays for the spell. She casts, and at once there is in her mind an unerring sense of the direction of the object in question. It’s pointing downward and toward Eigomic’s house, as expected. For a few moments she waits, sensing. The location does not waver by a single sliver of a degree.
“It’s not moving,” she says. “So either Eigomic has been sedentary, or the key is stored somewhere not on his person.”
She thinks for another minute. Morningstar knows the location of the key. She’s invisible and wind walking…
“I’m going to scout,” she says. “I know I’m not normally the stealthy one, but it’s got to be me right now.”
The others agree. Morningstar goes back into vaporous form, flies to Eigomic’s house, and wafts in under the door. The living room is empty but giantish voices sound from upstairs. She concentrates for a moment on the location of the human-sized key. To her surprise the direction is still generally downward, even though she’s floating at ground level.
“Must be in a basement somewhere,” she thinks. The location is also farther back in the house, so she chooses one of two likely doors at random and explores. She finds herself in a giant-sized kitchen, with enormous plates, jugs, pots and pans, and flagons so large Flicker could easily take a bath in one.
“The Giant Flagon,” she thinks to herself. “If we ever retire and open an inn, that would be a good name. Maybe we can steal one of these mugs as a centerpiece. Hm. I’m starting to think like Dranko.”
In fact, the whole experience is giving her some new insight into her fiancée’s adventuring angle. It’s always one of the rogues who does this sort of reconnoitering. Sneaking around undetected, looking for clues and information – this is new to Morningstar. She finds it oddly exhilarating.
She hears the sounds of giants thumping down the stairs, and since there are no staircases leading downward from the kitchen, she flits back into the living room and then under the second door.
It’s a small den. Well, ok, it’s a huge den, forty feet on a side, but for a giant it must be small and cozy. There are furs on the wood-paneled floor, including a huge bearskin run in the center. At one end is a writing desk and chair. Ornamental masks and furs decorate the walls, including another blood-fox pelt. She moves into the center of the room, the spell updating the direction of the key.
When she stands directly over the bearskin rug, the direction is very nearly straight down.
Morningstar settles her vaporous body into one of the long grooves between the floor’s wooden slats. She inches along, sliding under the bearskin. Before too long she discovers another groove in the wood running perpendicular to hers.
“Trap door,” she thinks. For a moment she contemplates pouring through the crack into whatever space is below, but doesn’t want to risk setting off any traps or alarms. Morningstar retreats from under the rug, slips back under the door and into the living room. Eigomic is there with all six of his new bodyguards. They can’t see her!
And just in case it hasn’t been evident enough that Dranko is rubbing off on her, Morningstar raises her misty hands to her head, touches her thumbs to her ears, and waggles her fingers at the giants. Absurdly pleased, she scoots under the front door and out into the street. Moments later she has re-solidified and reported to the others.
The Company retreats to the abandoned neighborhood near the tower courtyard, and after Kay confirms that no one has been inside one of the houses for weeks if not months, Aravis sets up a pair of rope tricks for the night. They assume that no tundra eyes will bother them here inside the giantish city. Before going to bed they formulate a plan, which involves luring Eigomic (and his retinue, ideally) out of his house, after which they will storm his house, get through the trap door, grab the key, fly to the tower, possibly wall off the giants who stand guard there, and get inside the tower that they all assume must be Het Branoi.
Should be a piece of cake.
…to be continued…
Short update tonight:
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 186
Amazingly enough, nothing goes wrong!
The chimney is smokey and full of rising soot and embers. Dranko floats down toward the fireplace, hoping to catch sounds of Eigomic talking, but all he hears is the roar of the fire. He’s about to just fly out and past the fire (and into the room) when he realizes that all the soot will render his invisibility rather moot. So just before exiting the chimney Dranko casts a clean orison himself, counting on the roaring flames to drown out the sound of his casting. The fire flutters for a moment as Dranko flies into the room but none of the giants in the place are looking that way.
The room into which Dranko emerges is huge. Almost two dozen giants are there, some of them sparring, some of them sitting at tables, talking and drinking. Racks of giant-sized weapons stand propped up against the walls. He’s in the commons of a barracks! Dranko is not in time to hear what Eigomic is saying to a trio of other giants, but it’s soon clear what’s going on.
The Keeper is obtaining bodyguards.
When Eigomic leaves the building he has half a dozen strong club-wielding giants in tow. Dranko surreptitiously follows them out the door. He hardly needs to report what he saw; the others can plainly see Eigomic leave the building surrounded by six guards. The troop of them goes back to Eigomic’s house.
“Our situation has not improved,” notes Step dourly. “Now not only do they have twelve guards at the tower, but Eigomic, who probably has the key, has guards of his own. What do we do now?”
They cogitate for a few minutes, half-heartedly making plans that won’t work.
“Wait,” says Ernie, brightening. “Morningstar, you still have some unused spell slots, right? You should fill one with locate object. We can find the key with magic.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” explains Dranko. “We’ve never seen the key. That spell will just find the nearest key to the caster.”
“True,” says Ernie, grinning. “But how many keys in this giantish city do you think fit into human-sized keyholes? Moriningstar can locate ‘the nearest human-sized key.’ That should at least verify where it is.”
Everyone marvels at Ernie’s cleverness while Morningstar prays for the spell. She casts, and at once there is in her mind an unerring sense of the direction of the object in question. It’s pointing downward and toward Eigomic’s house, as expected. For a few moments she waits, sensing. The location does not waver by a single sliver of a degree.
“It’s not moving,” she says. “So either Eigomic has been sedentary, or the key is stored somewhere not on his person.”
She thinks for another minute. Morningstar knows the location of the key. She’s invisible and wind walking…
“I’m going to scout,” she says. “I know I’m not normally the stealthy one, but it’s got to be me right now.”
The others agree. Morningstar goes back into vaporous form, flies to Eigomic’s house, and wafts in under the door. The living room is empty but giantish voices sound from upstairs. She concentrates for a moment on the location of the human-sized key. To her surprise the direction is still generally downward, even though she’s floating at ground level.
“Must be in a basement somewhere,” she thinks. The location is also farther back in the house, so she chooses one of two likely doors at random and explores. She finds herself in a giant-sized kitchen, with enormous plates, jugs, pots and pans, and flagons so large Flicker could easily take a bath in one.
“The Giant Flagon,” she thinks to herself. “If we ever retire and open an inn, that would be a good name. Maybe we can steal one of these mugs as a centerpiece. Hm. I’m starting to think like Dranko.”
In fact, the whole experience is giving her some new insight into her fiancée’s adventuring angle. It’s always one of the rogues who does this sort of reconnoitering. Sneaking around undetected, looking for clues and information – this is new to Morningstar. She finds it oddly exhilarating.
She hears the sounds of giants thumping down the stairs, and since there are no staircases leading downward from the kitchen, she flits back into the living room and then under the second door.
It’s a small den. Well, ok, it’s a huge den, forty feet on a side, but for a giant it must be small and cozy. There are furs on the wood-paneled floor, including a huge bearskin run in the center. At one end is a writing desk and chair. Ornamental masks and furs decorate the walls, including another blood-fox pelt. She moves into the center of the room, the spell updating the direction of the key.
When she stands directly over the bearskin rug, the direction is very nearly straight down.
Morningstar settles her vaporous body into one of the long grooves between the floor’s wooden slats. She inches along, sliding under the bearskin. Before too long she discovers another groove in the wood running perpendicular to hers.
“Trap door,” she thinks. For a moment she contemplates pouring through the crack into whatever space is below, but doesn’t want to risk setting off any traps or alarms. Morningstar retreats from under the rug, slips back under the door and into the living room. Eigomic is there with all six of his new bodyguards. They can’t see her!
And just in case it hasn’t been evident enough that Dranko is rubbing off on her, Morningstar raises her misty hands to her head, touches her thumbs to her ears, and waggles her fingers at the giants. Absurdly pleased, she scoots under the front door and out into the street. Moments later she has re-solidified and reported to the others.
The Company retreats to the abandoned neighborhood near the tower courtyard, and after Kay confirms that no one has been inside one of the houses for weeks if not months, Aravis sets up a pair of rope tricks for the night. They assume that no tundra eyes will bother them here inside the giantish city. Before going to bed they formulate a plan, which involves luring Eigomic (and his retinue, ideally) out of his house, after which they will storm his house, get through the trap door, grab the key, fly to the tower, possibly wall off the giants who stand guard there, and get inside the tower that they all assume must be Het Branoi.
Should be a piece of cake.
…to be continued…
thatdarncat
Overlord of Chat
lmao
too cool
Shouldn't you be at piratecat's gaming?
too cool
Shouldn't you be at piratecat's gaming?
LightPhoenix
First Post
Sagiro said:
"Assume?"
Foreshadowing?
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