"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
Tony Vargas
Legend
It's not all bad. Before that, the game was often all about what items your character had collected, now, items serve more as a foundation, while your class & feat choices make a real difference. It'd be nice, though, if items were just story elements, though, rather than crucial character elements (unless you wanted them to be). But, then, it'd be Fantasy Hero, not D&D.el-remmen said:
The classes /are/ balanced around standard wealth, though, and I still wonder that your campaign doesn't run into bigger problems.
AC, for instance, in a low magic game, must be abysmal, and that's hardly compatible with the draw-out combats that seem to predominate in Aquerra...?
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Tony Vargas said:
I am of the philosophy that it is all D&D. The role of magical items does not make the game D&D or not, to me at least. . .
Personally, I think an ideal system would have a baseline of few to no magical items and allow for DMs to run games with more layers of gear - since it easier to add stuff to a game than to take it away.
Tony Vargas said:
Well, we do use a Base Defense Bonus house rule. . .
Martin Olarin
First Post
And don't forget the expansion of what you allow under the Masterwork rules.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Martin Olarin said:
Yeah, but very few people have actually taken advantage of masterwork items as it still tends to be very expensive. If Kazrack had not returned the Hand of Natan-Ahb there was no way he would have afforded the 15K in silver that armor would have cost him.
darkhall-nestor
Explorer
I think it’s great that you take the time to name some of the magic items you let you party members have and also that you give them a back story.
I personally like to give the more powerful magic items some detrimental qualities. Something that players may or may not want to live with.
I personally like to give the more powerful magic items some detrimental qualities. Something that players may or may not want to live with.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #16 – “Hezrah’s Maternity Mayhem!” (part 1 of 3) 1
“Oh, no no no!” the pregnant ogress cried. She turned quickly, nearly falling over due to her awkward condition, and hurried out of sight back down the corridor.
Laarus of Ra swung his flail at the crone, but she cocked her head and moved out of the way with blessed luck. But her luck did not last, the priest of Ra stepped around the spear with a sudden spring and caved in the side of her head with his weapon. She collapsed without a sound. The other orc women continued to screech and bat futilely at the walls.
“Get the hell out of my way you fncking idiot,” Markos pushed past his cousin and threw open the door on the right, relieved when Laarus’ light revealed what he suspected. The door led back out into the hall with the fire pit where they had fought the ogre-blood. 2 “Hey! Hey! Over here! We need help!” He called for the others, ducking out into the hall.
“Tymon! Remain at the cave entrance and send Dulevey along when he gets here. Hezrah must not escape!” Bleys said, hearing Markos call from just outside of the cave. “Falco! With us!” And with that he dashed back into the cave after Telémahkos and Victoria of Anhur who were already answering Markos’ call.
Telémahkos tumbled into the doorway and stopped to take in the scene. Two of the gray-skinned naked ogrillions emerged from the corridor just across from the door and a bit to the right. Bleys rushed past Victoria, who was weighed down by her armor, as usual, and he entered the room bow in hand, to see Laarus walking towards Timotheus with purpose. He could see that the tall blond warrior was shielding Crusta behind him.
“Nobody hurt her! She’s a priestess of Isis,” Timotheus insisted. He looked over his shoulder at her, as he turned to face the ogrillions. “Stay behind me. Stay close…”
“He’s charmed!” Telémahkos hissed into the watch-mage’s ear, and then with a deft roll he was beside his cousin, urging him forward against the cautious ogrillions. Laarus stood on Tim’s other side and began to call to Ra to close Tim’s wounds. At that moment one of the ogrillions stepped in and slammed its calcified fist into the priest’s vulnerable jaw. Laarus was able to groan out the last of his pray, though, and Timotheus’ wounds closed a perceptible amount. 3
“Markos, stay close to me,” Victoria said to the slight mage, marching into the center of the room, long spear before her, trying to keep their two foes wedged in one quadrant of the room while keeping wary of the strange orc females. They appeared to have gotten their eyesight back, but were still cowering in the corners. Markos followed her in loading his crossbow with the easy pull of a lever.
“Boyfriend! Don’t let them hurt me!” Crusta looked out from where she was huddled in front of Timotheus, and Telémahkos took advantage. “I’ll help her, Tim!” he cried, and drove his rapier into her, drawing black blood. She screamed and jerked back.
“She’s a priestess of Isis, you moron!” Timotheus roared, raising his sword threateningly. “Do that again, and I’ll cut you!”
This was the opportunity the other ogrillion was waiting for, and in the confusion in leapt into the fray. The first one slammed Laarus of Ra in the face again, and this time the priest collapsed, beginning to bleed out. Forced to lower his sword to block a gut-busting punch from the other orcish hybrid, Timotheus’ attention was drawn back to the fight. An arrow from Bleys kept the ogrillion from leaning over to continue its beating of Laarus. The watch-mage’s arrow hung painfully from a flap of loose bloody skin on its chest.
Falco was sending arrows into the chaos whenever he saw an opening, but as usual he was not very effective.
There was a sizzling sound as Telémahkos noted that Crusta’s hand was awash in blue sparks of lightning that leapt at him as she reached in his direction. She cried out again, as his rapier cut her side, but a blue arc of energy leapt to his chain shirt and suddenly his whole body was jerking spasmodically as he collapsed to the cold stone floor. 4
“Someone see to them!” Victoria commanded, as she moved in front of Bleys’ line of fire in order to stand guard over Laarus.
“Dunlevey! Tymon!” Bleys called for the hirelings, but they had not yet arrived. “Markos, quickly, feed Laarus a potion!”
“Already on it, Bleys,” Markos answered, but he came no closer wary of the ogrillions and Crusta. Tymon came rushing in, panting heavily.
“Master Telémahkos!” he cried.
“Tymon! Give this to your master!” Bleys commanded, handing the portly young man a flask. “Veneficus telum!” Bleys cast, an arrow of purple light slammed into Crusta’s side. She cried out and fled through the door in the north wall.
“Timotheus! Your friend is safe,” Markos said, speaking of Crusta. “Withdraw and let me give you this potion!” One of the ogrillions moved to follow Victoria as she withdrew and then she stepped into a hard thrust, catching it full on and burying the point deep into its shoulder. Its gray hide tore sickeningly as she pulled her weapon back to fend off its fists. Though bleeding profusely, it was only more enraged.
The other ogrillion hopped back to avoid an arrow from Bleys as Timotheus withdrew. He grabbed the open potion from Markos and chugged the contents, feeling some of his wounds begin to close as if they had never been there. “Okay! Let’s try this again!” he said, with his not uncommon smile and leapt back into the melee swinging his saber widely. The ogrillion slapped the blade away easily, but got distracted by its companion’s sudden fall from an arrow through the throat that found its way from Falco’s bow.
“Damn it, Falco” Victoria swore. She stepped around the scout, as he had gotten in her way to get his shot, and caught the remaining orc-blooded hybrid under the arm. Its arm dropped weakly and then suddenly a bolt from Markos’ crossbow and an arrow from Bleys sent it to the ground to bleed out its remaining life.
“Someone help me bind Laarus!” Bleys said, getting down beside the dying young priest as he opened his healer’s kit drawing out thick gauze.
“Just give him a potion!” Markos said.
“Do we have anymore? Potions are a limited resource. It may be best to just bind him,” Bleys replied, still working at the priest.
“Better safe than sorry,” Timotheus said, and fed Laarus the potion, tilting his head back and messaging his throat as he coughed. He was no longer bleeding, but even the potion was not enough to wake him from the severity of his wounds. Groaning with exhaustion, the recently awakened Telémahkos crawled over and fed the priest his remaining healing potion, and a moment later Laarus Raymer was sputtering awake.
“Did we catch Hezrah?” Laarus asked, as he staggered to his feet with Victoria’s help.
“No, but the other witch went through that door,” Markos pointed to the door in the north wall.
The door was opened and revealed a hallway with a tall ceiling. A wooden frame below that held a few dozen birds in various states of having been plucked or smoked. There were also some large chunks of unidentifiable gray meat.
“Tymon, when we are done here, you will go through and collect everything that is edible,” Bleys told the servant. The hall turned to the right. The half-orc witch must have fled that way. The watch-mage turned to Timotheus, “Stay here and watch the rear-guard. More of those creatures may come from the other hall.”
“Yeah, and that way you don’t act all stupid,” Telémahkos added.
“Well, maybe you should stay behind, too, since you’re so bloodthirsty and was stabbing at a priestess of Isis!” Timotheus spat back.
Telémahkos rolled his eyes like a drunken thespian, making sure everyone saw him.
“All I am saying is,” Timotheus went on. “Try not to kill her…”
Telémahkos sighed, but Victoria stepped up. “I shall go in the front with Master Bleys,” she said, to Tim. “ I am willing to believe you and stay my spear, but only until I have made my own conclusion.”
“Fair enough, but I did hear her call on Isis when she healed that ogre out in the hall,” Timotheus explained. 5
The militant nodded and led the way, turning the corner and tearing the ratty fur curtain that obscured the room beyond. It was part laboratory, part kitchen and part bedroom, illuminated by the light emanating from Victoria’s helmet. It was clear that Crusta was doing her best to hide, squatted behind the narrow flea-ridden cot.
“Boyfriend! Help me! I’m not doing anything!” she cried out to Timotheus, but could not hear, being kept out of the room.
“Release your hold on Timotheus!” Victoria commanded, but the half-orc witch just looked at her with fear and confusion.
“I’ve got a boyfriend for ya!” Telémahkos quipped, rushing into the room and leaping up onto the cot, crossbow in hand. He let a quarrel go at point-blank range, but was so eager he did not account for sinking down into the cot as he leapt on it, and the shot managed to completely miss her.
“Nooo! I give up! I give up!” Crusta croaked, putting her flabby wrinkled gray arms in the air. It looked as if she had recently lost a lot of weight, and her skin hung off her unhealthily.
Victoria stepped over and forced Telémahkos to lower the weapon. “No! Bewitched as he may be, he says she may be a follower of Isis, and I swore I would find out before passing judgment.”
“She’s not a priestess of Isis,” Telémahkos replied with casual dismissal of Victoria’s concern. He began to reload his crossbow.
“Release Timotheus!” Laarus of Ra echoed the Victoria’s command as he came in the room.
Crusta shook her head and continued to look confused, making a little croaking noise in the back of her throat.
“Oh, just kill her, that’ll break the spell,” Markos said.
“Where is Hezrah?” Victoria asked.
“She… She ran away already,” Crusta replied.
“Kill her, before Tim gets bored and comes and sees what is going on,” Telémahkos said. “He will not allow us to take her prisoner.”
“She will release him, or we will allow Telémahkos to do as he’d like, “ Laarus said coldly. He looked directly at her as he spoke. Telémahkos raised his crossbow.
“Yes,” Markos turned to the half-orc girl. “When we call Timotheus in here you shall release him or we will kill you.”
Crusta nodded meekly.
Bleys called for Timotheus and the tall warrior came in with his usual big grin.
“How do you feel about her now?” Markos asked curtly, pointing at Crusta.
Tim’s face was blank and then sudden it was filled with anger and confusion. “What did you do to me?” He stepped towards her with his arms tensed, his stylized manacle bracelet rattling. Crusta looked down and away, shivering. Timotheus’ shoulders sagged and then he stood tall again. “Despite the charm, she really did call on Isis…”
Victoria Ostrander and Laarus of Ra began to discuss the possibility that an evil witch might call on Isis.
“I can’t imagine that Isis would grant her power to one that is not worthy,” Victoria reasoned.
“Witches make strange pacts and can do many strange things,” Laarus replied with a hint of respect in his voice.
Timotheus looked to his cousin and apologized. “I know you were just trying to protect me…” He slapped him heavily on the shoulder and Telémahkos feigned punching his tall cousin in the chin, smiling.
“What is this?” Markos asked. He had begun to look around and saw a list that was scratched into the wall with charcoal, and beneath it was burned a large rune.
The list read:
4d Ogr / 50s
2d Br F / 10s
> 20 RR chil
Hez: Prim 27
The rune looked like some kind of ‘9’ with a smaller rune within the top loop of it. 6
“That is the symbol of the Master,” Crusta said. She spoke with awe.
“Who is the Master?” Timotheus asked.
“He is the Master. He comes from far away and commands Momma,” Crusta replied. “She was making plans until the Test of Thutmose came…”
”The Test of Thutmose? Is that not what the goblin called us?” Victoria said.
Laarus nodded.
“Did your mother say anything about the Test of Thutmose?” Victoria asked the half-orc. “Where did she hear the name?”
“I don’t know.”
“She must have contact with the Flor’choo,” said Laarus.
“She told the Master about the Test of Thutmose, but he say Test of Thutmose was beneath his notice,” Crusta added, nodding her head in a way that was not unreminiscent of Tymon. “But Momma is scared of them… They killed all my brothers, except Theorn. You all killed Theorn.”
And then her yellow eyes widened and her mouth fell open, revealing her crooked blackened teeth and filmy tongue as she gasped. “You… You are the Test of Thutmose!” She pointed at them, but then withdrew her finger with fear and began to tremble again.
“So this Master did not appear afraid of the Test of Thutmose?” Victoria continued her questions.
“Not the Master! The Master has no fear. The Master can do anything! Master came from Hell!” Crusta said.
“I guess we’ll just have to send him back then,” Timotheus winked, patting the hilt of his sheathed saber.
“Other Masters come from far and go to the Flor’Choo,” Crusta continued to volunteer information. “They learned of the Test of Thutmose…”
“Other masters? Were they hobgoblins?” Timotheus asked.
Crusta shrugged her shoulders.
“What does the Master look like?” Laarus of Ra asked. Crusta moved towards a small chest by the cot, and tension blossomed in the room once again, and she withdrew, pointing to it. It was then that Laarus and Timotheus noticed that Markos and Bleys had retreated from the questioning along with Telémahkos and were whispering to each other by the entrance to the room.
“What are you whispering about?” Timotheus asked, stepping over there. Telémahkos and Markos left the watch-mage and the warrior to talk, and began to rummage through the room’s contents. Opening both the small chest and the larger one over by a stained stone table.
“The Master tall like ogre, but blue-skin and horns,” Crusta said as they did this. “Master can fly…”
“This is a den for breeding evil,” Bleys said to Timotheus.
“I know,” Timotheus replied, inferring what the whispered conversation had been about. “We’ll have to kill all the orc-women, right?” The tall warrior’s shoulders drooped and he sighed.
“Yes,” Bleys said with his usual coldness.
…to be continued…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Session #16 was played on September 16, 2007.
2 See Session #15
3 The casting drew an attack of opportunity, but Laarus succeeded at his Concentration check.
4 Shocking grasp
5 Again, see Session #15
6 The rune:
“Oh, no no no!” the pregnant ogress cried. She turned quickly, nearly falling over due to her awkward condition, and hurried out of sight back down the corridor.
Laarus of Ra swung his flail at the crone, but she cocked her head and moved out of the way with blessed luck. But her luck did not last, the priest of Ra stepped around the spear with a sudden spring and caved in the side of her head with his weapon. She collapsed without a sound. The other orc women continued to screech and bat futilely at the walls.
“Get the hell out of my way you fncking idiot,” Markos pushed past his cousin and threw open the door on the right, relieved when Laarus’ light revealed what he suspected. The door led back out into the hall with the fire pit where they had fought the ogre-blood. 2 “Hey! Hey! Over here! We need help!” He called for the others, ducking out into the hall.
“Tymon! Remain at the cave entrance and send Dulevey along when he gets here. Hezrah must not escape!” Bleys said, hearing Markos call from just outside of the cave. “Falco! With us!” And with that he dashed back into the cave after Telémahkos and Victoria of Anhur who were already answering Markos’ call.
Telémahkos tumbled into the doorway and stopped to take in the scene. Two of the gray-skinned naked ogrillions emerged from the corridor just across from the door and a bit to the right. Bleys rushed past Victoria, who was weighed down by her armor, as usual, and he entered the room bow in hand, to see Laarus walking towards Timotheus with purpose. He could see that the tall blond warrior was shielding Crusta behind him.
“Nobody hurt her! She’s a priestess of Isis,” Timotheus insisted. He looked over his shoulder at her, as he turned to face the ogrillions. “Stay behind me. Stay close…”
“He’s charmed!” Telémahkos hissed into the watch-mage’s ear, and then with a deft roll he was beside his cousin, urging him forward against the cautious ogrillions. Laarus stood on Tim’s other side and began to call to Ra to close Tim’s wounds. At that moment one of the ogrillions stepped in and slammed its calcified fist into the priest’s vulnerable jaw. Laarus was able to groan out the last of his pray, though, and Timotheus’ wounds closed a perceptible amount. 3
“Markos, stay close to me,” Victoria said to the slight mage, marching into the center of the room, long spear before her, trying to keep their two foes wedged in one quadrant of the room while keeping wary of the strange orc females. They appeared to have gotten their eyesight back, but were still cowering in the corners. Markos followed her in loading his crossbow with the easy pull of a lever.
“Boyfriend! Don’t let them hurt me!” Crusta looked out from where she was huddled in front of Timotheus, and Telémahkos took advantage. “I’ll help her, Tim!” he cried, and drove his rapier into her, drawing black blood. She screamed and jerked back.
“She’s a priestess of Isis, you moron!” Timotheus roared, raising his sword threateningly. “Do that again, and I’ll cut you!”
This was the opportunity the other ogrillion was waiting for, and in the confusion in leapt into the fray. The first one slammed Laarus of Ra in the face again, and this time the priest collapsed, beginning to bleed out. Forced to lower his sword to block a gut-busting punch from the other orcish hybrid, Timotheus’ attention was drawn back to the fight. An arrow from Bleys kept the ogrillion from leaning over to continue its beating of Laarus. The watch-mage’s arrow hung painfully from a flap of loose bloody skin on its chest.
Falco was sending arrows into the chaos whenever he saw an opening, but as usual he was not very effective.
There was a sizzling sound as Telémahkos noted that Crusta’s hand was awash in blue sparks of lightning that leapt at him as she reached in his direction. She cried out again, as his rapier cut her side, but a blue arc of energy leapt to his chain shirt and suddenly his whole body was jerking spasmodically as he collapsed to the cold stone floor. 4
“Someone see to them!” Victoria commanded, as she moved in front of Bleys’ line of fire in order to stand guard over Laarus.
“Dunlevey! Tymon!” Bleys called for the hirelings, but they had not yet arrived. “Markos, quickly, feed Laarus a potion!”
“Already on it, Bleys,” Markos answered, but he came no closer wary of the ogrillions and Crusta. Tymon came rushing in, panting heavily.
“Master Telémahkos!” he cried.
“Tymon! Give this to your master!” Bleys commanded, handing the portly young man a flask. “Veneficus telum!” Bleys cast, an arrow of purple light slammed into Crusta’s side. She cried out and fled through the door in the north wall.
“Timotheus! Your friend is safe,” Markos said, speaking of Crusta. “Withdraw and let me give you this potion!” One of the ogrillions moved to follow Victoria as she withdrew and then she stepped into a hard thrust, catching it full on and burying the point deep into its shoulder. Its gray hide tore sickeningly as she pulled her weapon back to fend off its fists. Though bleeding profusely, it was only more enraged.
The other ogrillion hopped back to avoid an arrow from Bleys as Timotheus withdrew. He grabbed the open potion from Markos and chugged the contents, feeling some of his wounds begin to close as if they had never been there. “Okay! Let’s try this again!” he said, with his not uncommon smile and leapt back into the melee swinging his saber widely. The ogrillion slapped the blade away easily, but got distracted by its companion’s sudden fall from an arrow through the throat that found its way from Falco’s bow.
“Damn it, Falco” Victoria swore. She stepped around the scout, as he had gotten in her way to get his shot, and caught the remaining orc-blooded hybrid under the arm. Its arm dropped weakly and then suddenly a bolt from Markos’ crossbow and an arrow from Bleys sent it to the ground to bleed out its remaining life.
“Someone help me bind Laarus!” Bleys said, getting down beside the dying young priest as he opened his healer’s kit drawing out thick gauze.
“Just give him a potion!” Markos said.
“Do we have anymore? Potions are a limited resource. It may be best to just bind him,” Bleys replied, still working at the priest.
“Better safe than sorry,” Timotheus said, and fed Laarus the potion, tilting his head back and messaging his throat as he coughed. He was no longer bleeding, but even the potion was not enough to wake him from the severity of his wounds. Groaning with exhaustion, the recently awakened Telémahkos crawled over and fed the priest his remaining healing potion, and a moment later Laarus Raymer was sputtering awake.
“Did we catch Hezrah?” Laarus asked, as he staggered to his feet with Victoria’s help.
“No, but the other witch went through that door,” Markos pointed to the door in the north wall.
The door was opened and revealed a hallway with a tall ceiling. A wooden frame below that held a few dozen birds in various states of having been plucked or smoked. There were also some large chunks of unidentifiable gray meat.
“Tymon, when we are done here, you will go through and collect everything that is edible,” Bleys told the servant. The hall turned to the right. The half-orc witch must have fled that way. The watch-mage turned to Timotheus, “Stay here and watch the rear-guard. More of those creatures may come from the other hall.”
“Yeah, and that way you don’t act all stupid,” Telémahkos added.
“Well, maybe you should stay behind, too, since you’re so bloodthirsty and was stabbing at a priestess of Isis!” Timotheus spat back.
Telémahkos rolled his eyes like a drunken thespian, making sure everyone saw him.
“All I am saying is,” Timotheus went on. “Try not to kill her…”
Telémahkos sighed, but Victoria stepped up. “I shall go in the front with Master Bleys,” she said, to Tim. “ I am willing to believe you and stay my spear, but only until I have made my own conclusion.”
“Fair enough, but I did hear her call on Isis when she healed that ogre out in the hall,” Timotheus explained. 5
The militant nodded and led the way, turning the corner and tearing the ratty fur curtain that obscured the room beyond. It was part laboratory, part kitchen and part bedroom, illuminated by the light emanating from Victoria’s helmet. It was clear that Crusta was doing her best to hide, squatted behind the narrow flea-ridden cot.
“Boyfriend! Help me! I’m not doing anything!” she cried out to Timotheus, but could not hear, being kept out of the room.
“Release your hold on Timotheus!” Victoria commanded, but the half-orc witch just looked at her with fear and confusion.
“I’ve got a boyfriend for ya!” Telémahkos quipped, rushing into the room and leaping up onto the cot, crossbow in hand. He let a quarrel go at point-blank range, but was so eager he did not account for sinking down into the cot as he leapt on it, and the shot managed to completely miss her.
“Nooo! I give up! I give up!” Crusta croaked, putting her flabby wrinkled gray arms in the air. It looked as if she had recently lost a lot of weight, and her skin hung off her unhealthily.
Victoria stepped over and forced Telémahkos to lower the weapon. “No! Bewitched as he may be, he says she may be a follower of Isis, and I swore I would find out before passing judgment.”
“She’s not a priestess of Isis,” Telémahkos replied with casual dismissal of Victoria’s concern. He began to reload his crossbow.
“Release Timotheus!” Laarus of Ra echoed the Victoria’s command as he came in the room.
Crusta shook her head and continued to look confused, making a little croaking noise in the back of her throat.
“Oh, just kill her, that’ll break the spell,” Markos said.
“Where is Hezrah?” Victoria asked.
“She… She ran away already,” Crusta replied.
“Kill her, before Tim gets bored and comes and sees what is going on,” Telémahkos said. “He will not allow us to take her prisoner.”
“She will release him, or we will allow Telémahkos to do as he’d like, “ Laarus said coldly. He looked directly at her as he spoke. Telémahkos raised his crossbow.
“Yes,” Markos turned to the half-orc girl. “When we call Timotheus in here you shall release him or we will kill you.”
Crusta nodded meekly.
Bleys called for Timotheus and the tall warrior came in with his usual big grin.
“How do you feel about her now?” Markos asked curtly, pointing at Crusta.
Tim’s face was blank and then sudden it was filled with anger and confusion. “What did you do to me?” He stepped towards her with his arms tensed, his stylized manacle bracelet rattling. Crusta looked down and away, shivering. Timotheus’ shoulders sagged and then he stood tall again. “Despite the charm, she really did call on Isis…”
Victoria Ostrander and Laarus of Ra began to discuss the possibility that an evil witch might call on Isis.
“I can’t imagine that Isis would grant her power to one that is not worthy,” Victoria reasoned.
“Witches make strange pacts and can do many strange things,” Laarus replied with a hint of respect in his voice.
Timotheus looked to his cousin and apologized. “I know you were just trying to protect me…” He slapped him heavily on the shoulder and Telémahkos feigned punching his tall cousin in the chin, smiling.
“What is this?” Markos asked. He had begun to look around and saw a list that was scratched into the wall with charcoal, and beneath it was burned a large rune.
The list read:
4d Ogr / 50s
2d Br F / 10s
> 20 RR chil
Hez: Prim 27
The rune looked like some kind of ‘9’ with a smaller rune within the top loop of it. 6
“That is the symbol of the Master,” Crusta said. She spoke with awe.
“Who is the Master?” Timotheus asked.
“He is the Master. He comes from far away and commands Momma,” Crusta replied. “She was making plans until the Test of Thutmose came…”
”The Test of Thutmose? Is that not what the goblin called us?” Victoria said.
Laarus nodded.
“Did your mother say anything about the Test of Thutmose?” Victoria asked the half-orc. “Where did she hear the name?”
“I don’t know.”
“She must have contact with the Flor’choo,” said Laarus.
“She told the Master about the Test of Thutmose, but he say Test of Thutmose was beneath his notice,” Crusta added, nodding her head in a way that was not unreminiscent of Tymon. “But Momma is scared of them… They killed all my brothers, except Theorn. You all killed Theorn.”
And then her yellow eyes widened and her mouth fell open, revealing her crooked blackened teeth and filmy tongue as she gasped. “You… You are the Test of Thutmose!” She pointed at them, but then withdrew her finger with fear and began to tremble again.
“So this Master did not appear afraid of the Test of Thutmose?” Victoria continued her questions.
“Not the Master! The Master has no fear. The Master can do anything! Master came from Hell!” Crusta said.
“I guess we’ll just have to send him back then,” Timotheus winked, patting the hilt of his sheathed saber.
“Other Masters come from far and go to the Flor’Choo,” Crusta continued to volunteer information. “They learned of the Test of Thutmose…”
“Other masters? Were they hobgoblins?” Timotheus asked.
Crusta shrugged her shoulders.
“What does the Master look like?” Laarus of Ra asked. Crusta moved towards a small chest by the cot, and tension blossomed in the room once again, and she withdrew, pointing to it. It was then that Laarus and Timotheus noticed that Markos and Bleys had retreated from the questioning along with Telémahkos and were whispering to each other by the entrance to the room.
“What are you whispering about?” Timotheus asked, stepping over there. Telémahkos and Markos left the watch-mage and the warrior to talk, and began to rummage through the room’s contents. Opening both the small chest and the larger one over by a stained stone table.
“The Master tall like ogre, but blue-skin and horns,” Crusta said as they did this. “Master can fly…”
“This is a den for breeding evil,” Bleys said to Timotheus.
“I know,” Timotheus replied, inferring what the whispered conversation had been about. “We’ll have to kill all the orc-women, right?” The tall warrior’s shoulders drooped and he sighed.
“Yes,” Bleys said with his usual coldness.
…to be continued…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Session #16 was played on September 16, 2007.
2 See Session #15
3 The casting drew an attack of opportunity, but Laarus succeeded at his Concentration check.
4 Shocking grasp
5 Again, see Session #15
6 The rune:
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Second Helping!
Session #16 – “Hezrah’s Maternity Mayhem!” (part 2 of 3)
“We need to unchain them before we kill them, though,” Timotheus said, his words bearing the weight of some reticence. “I cannot in good conscience do that, if only out of respect for Nephthys… But yes, we need to kill them.”
“Yes, that has already been determined. Are you steeling yourself, or trying to dissuade…?” Bleys asked.
“The former.”
“There is no shame in letting others complete this task if it proves too difficult for you,” Bleys replied.
“No. I won’t shirk my responsibility,” Timotheus, standing up straight again and looking the watch-mage in the eyes. “It would be on me whether I acted directed to slay them or not…”
Bleys nodded.
Markos and Telémahkos found several clay flasks holding what they assumed were potions, and ordered Crusta to tell them what they were. She could only guess, she said. One would make you disappear, another allowed you to see in the dark, or so she said.
Among the flea-infested clothing and blankets in the big wooden chest, were some sacks of copper and silver coins. Some of it was Thrician, but some of it was also Herman-lander, and imprinted with the stamp of mints in the Black Islands Barony. Wrapped in a kerchief was an ivory plaque, about three inches wide and four inches high, not more than an eighth of an inch in thickness. One side was painted like a trump from a set of cards, showing a blue-skinned demonic horned ogre, holding a staff, and carrying bound humans on its back. It was marked with the same rune as was burned on the wall, and had a stylized ‘A’ in one corner and an ‘F’ in the opposite diagonal one. 1
“That is the Master!” Crusta said when she saw the card. “Momma use that to call the Master to come.”
Markos used a detect magic spell to examine the plaque, but there was no trace of a dweomer. He turned the card back and forth examining it with furrowed brow, confused by its lack of aura.
“Perhaps this Master uses this object as a focus for his scrying?” Markos speculated while looking to Bleys for an opinion.
“It is possible,” the watch-mage replied, uncommitted.
“Momma makes ogrillions for the Master,” Crusta said. “She prove she can make them for Master to use so she can serve Master and the other Masters…”
“The ones that went to the Flor’Choo?”
“No… The other Masters…” Crusta replied, as if that made it clearer.
“That could explain the list,” Markos said. “It is an order. Four dozen ‘oh-gee-ar.” Ogrillions.”
“And the ‘bee-ar-eff’ could mean ‘breeding females,’” Bleys offered.
“Well, no use in stretching it out,” Timotheus said. “If we are going to have to… Let’s do it and not make them suffer this wretched life too much longer…” He began to walk towards the door, and Bleys the Aubergine followed.
“I want to help,” Telémahkos said.
“Wait!” Laarus of Ra cried. “You are planning to kill the breeders? Why? They are no threat!”
“They may be no threat in and of themselves in the short term, but they are being used to breed those ogrillion things,” Markos said.
“They are prisoners who were forced to breed against their will,” Laarus said. “They wear chains. They are not warriors…”
“They are orcs,” Telémahkos said by way of explanation.
“It is too bad we have no means of making them incapable of conception,” Victoria said. “But that would take some learned herblore, and probably resources we are not likely to find.”
“Look Laarus, I don’t like it either, and I plan to remove their chains before they are killed so at least they are free,” Timotheus began.
“You’re going to what?” Markos scoffed. “So we have to chase them around and kill them? If we’re going to kill them, we just kill them. It is a sad necessity, but a necessity, none-the-less…”
“I stand with Brother Laarus,” said Victoria. “They should not be killed. It is not honorable to kill the defenseless, women or children…”
“In the north, when a hobgoblin lair is found, every last of them is put to the sword,” Timotheus said. “They cannot be allowed to regain their numbers because they hate humans and the other good races. They will never stop trying to raze our cities and kill us all… Anyway, it is what they do when they raze human towns… Do you think they would spare our women and children?”
“So we should look to hobgoblins as are moral guides? I think not,” Laarus replied, his face growing flush. He began to walk back out in the larger room where the orc women still cowered.
“Heh. I guess he’s against killing the pregnant ogre, too,” Timotheus said.
“Pregnant ogre!” Bleys’ face betrayed amazement.
“Yep, she’s big… Looked due to pop…”
“How long until an ogre baby is big enough to be a danger?” Markos asked Crusta.
”By the time the seasons pass twice,” Crusta replied. “Same with the ogrillions… They grow fast. Momma grinds up the babies that don’t live and the breeders that die and feeds them…”
“Crusta, would you kill the orc women if asked you to?” Bleys asked her.
”To save my own life? Yes…” She replied.
“That is just is just wrong in so many ways,” Timotheus said, shaking his head. He followed the priest of Ra out into the room. “Laarus, I just have one question: When you came up through the trapdoor, who stabbed at you with a spear?”
Laarus looked at Tim and then at the four groups of orcish women cowering in the corners. They wore stained roughspun smocks, and scratched at each other as they fought to get behind each other and as far away from the noble adventurers as they could. The room was a mess of blood, urine, ratty furs and flea-ridden woolen blankets. The horrendous smell was made just something short of vomit-inducing by the smoking braziers.
“That one,” Laarus pointed to where the orcish crone lay dead, the left side of her head caved in.
“And what are those on her chest?” Tim asked.
“Breasts,” Laarus answered, furrowing his brow as he looked back at Tim. His face bore a look of angry puzzlement.
“Yes, Laarus… Breasts… Women orcs fight and kill, too…”
“They are not fighting and killing now, are they?” Laarus asked in return. “And the orc crone was scared and lucky. She threatened us and paid the price. The same cannot be said of these others.”
By this time, everyone had come back out of the smaller room, Bleys pushing Crusta along at saber-point.
“You know if you try to run we will chase you down and kill you,” he told her in his cold tone.
“Me figured…” She replied, drooling slightly with fear.
“Will you fight to protect these orcs?” Markos asked his cousin.
“Will it come to that?” Laarus’ anger was brimming. The young priest seemed barely contained, but still he did not raise his voice.
“Is that a yes?” Markos asked. “Because if you will raise your weapon to keep us from killing these orc women then I shall concede my position, however reckless it may seem to me to let them live…”
“Sometimes in the cause of honor we leave ourselves vulnerable, but that is why it is called ‘honor,’” Victoria reasoned. She approached one of the orc women to remove the chains, and noticed the shackles had no locks. They had been smelted closed around their arms and waists. Nasty burn scars were visible around the shackles.
Pressed for more answers, Crusta was unable to say where the black orc women had come from, except that Hezrah often disappeared for days or weeks returning with outcasts and slaves in tow. Among these had been a runt of a warg cub that had grown strong on orc and kobold meat. 2 Freed, they would be unable to return to their own tribes, and even if they could they would likely be killed as tainted outsiders.
Crusta snorted and grunted in the orcish tongue, explaining the prisoners that the young nobles only meant to free them, not kill or beat them. The orcs were confused, but eventually calmed down and let Victoria do the carefull work of prying off the shackles with a mallet and an iron spike. Timotheus helped her, and eventually took over freeing the rest.
“Tell them to flee far,” Bleys told Crusta. “If I see them again I will kill them…” The orc women fled from the large room and towards the exit.
When asked what was in the cave just north of this one (also marked as being home to orcs on their map), Crusta said, “undead orcs.”
The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland collected their gear and loot and began to make their way back to the grove where they usually camped out. Crusta was brought along as prisoner, her wrists bound, but her feet let free so she could walk with no trouble. She looked around furtively and with great fear as they came out into the gorge and then out towards the plain. Markos walked along side of her, asking her many questions about her knowledge of witchcraft and asking after her tokens. She explained they were hidden and buried, but she would show him to them if he wanted. The others were against the detour. It would have to wait.
“So, what is the plan for tomorrow?” Timotheus asked Bleys as they walked.
“We go and kill the goblins,” Bleys said flatly.
“Except for the goblin women and children, them we leave to starve or to be killed by kobolds to show them the merciful ways of our gods,” Telémahkos said with a wink, making sure that Laarus heard him. If he did, the priest of Ra ignored the jab. He walked in the rear of the line occasionally talking with Victoria.
“You know, when it comes time to fight hobgoblins, we are going to have to be careful to stay away from the priests,” Telémahkos said to his cousin.
“It makes no difference,” Timotheus frowned. “No one is going to stop me from doing what needs to be done when it comes to safety of our homeland…” Brimming with sudden anger at the thought, Tim slowed his pace to allow Laarus to catch up.
“Hobgoblins are different,” Timotheus began.
Laarus was puzzled.
“They are an immediate threat,” Timotheus continued. “If we come across one of their lairs, they would all have to die. Every one of them… The fact that they are an immediate threat makes it a different case than with these orc women…”
Laarus of Ra shook his head. “There is no difference. Would you kill an innocent babe if it meant that all hobgoblins would die?’
“What?!” Timotheus was outraged. “You think hobgoblins are innocent?”
“That is not what I said,” Laarus replied.
“I am fncking insulted that you would insinuate that I would kill some innocent baby, and to compare a human baby to some fnckin’ hobos!” Timotheus marched back up the line fuming.
“The gods have always confused me,” said Telémahkos when he returned. “That’s why I like Bes and Bast. Simple. I need luck and I like cats.” He smiled at his tall cousin.
“I’d make a lousy priest of Nephthys,” Timotheus said, and marched to the very front of the line. Only Falco walked ahead of him, sixty feet ahead of the group, as was his habit.
“Will one of you be my boyfriend?” Crusta asked with a saddened voice when got to the grove and began to settle in to rest of the remainder of the day. It was the hot part of the afternoon when they got back, and most of them flopped down to rest and drink water.
“I will be your boyfriend,” Markos said, feeling sorry for her. Crusta gave a weak smile and sidled up next to him. She was taller than he was, but gangly and stooped.
“I wish I could put soap in my head,” Timotheus said when he saw her cozy up to him.
“Why not try putting some on your body every now and again,” Telémahkos quipped.
“Hey! I bathe!” Timotheus gave his cousin a hard put playful shove and Telémahkos tripped across Victoria’s bedroll. She gave him a withering look.
Later, after long examination, Markos announced that two of the potions taken from Hezrah’s lair were indeed potions of invisibility.
…to be continued…
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Click here to see a replica of the painted plaque.
2 This was the warg that Dunlevey and Telémahkos were fighting in the narrow hall near the entrance to the cave in Session #15.
Session #16 – “Hezrah’s Maternity Mayhem!” (part 2 of 3)
“We need to unchain them before we kill them, though,” Timotheus said, his words bearing the weight of some reticence. “I cannot in good conscience do that, if only out of respect for Nephthys… But yes, we need to kill them.”
“Yes, that has already been determined. Are you steeling yourself, or trying to dissuade…?” Bleys asked.
“The former.”
“There is no shame in letting others complete this task if it proves too difficult for you,” Bleys replied.
“No. I won’t shirk my responsibility,” Timotheus, standing up straight again and looking the watch-mage in the eyes. “It would be on me whether I acted directed to slay them or not…”
Bleys nodded.
Markos and Telémahkos found several clay flasks holding what they assumed were potions, and ordered Crusta to tell them what they were. She could only guess, she said. One would make you disappear, another allowed you to see in the dark, or so she said.
Among the flea-infested clothing and blankets in the big wooden chest, were some sacks of copper and silver coins. Some of it was Thrician, but some of it was also Herman-lander, and imprinted with the stamp of mints in the Black Islands Barony. Wrapped in a kerchief was an ivory plaque, about three inches wide and four inches high, not more than an eighth of an inch in thickness. One side was painted like a trump from a set of cards, showing a blue-skinned demonic horned ogre, holding a staff, and carrying bound humans on its back. It was marked with the same rune as was burned on the wall, and had a stylized ‘A’ in one corner and an ‘F’ in the opposite diagonal one. 1
“That is the Master!” Crusta said when she saw the card. “Momma use that to call the Master to come.”
Markos used a detect magic spell to examine the plaque, but there was no trace of a dweomer. He turned the card back and forth examining it with furrowed brow, confused by its lack of aura.
“Perhaps this Master uses this object as a focus for his scrying?” Markos speculated while looking to Bleys for an opinion.
“It is possible,” the watch-mage replied, uncommitted.
“Momma makes ogrillions for the Master,” Crusta said. “She prove she can make them for Master to use so she can serve Master and the other Masters…”
“The ones that went to the Flor’Choo?”
“No… The other Masters…” Crusta replied, as if that made it clearer.
“That could explain the list,” Markos said. “It is an order. Four dozen ‘oh-gee-ar.” Ogrillions.”
“And the ‘bee-ar-eff’ could mean ‘breeding females,’” Bleys offered.
“Well, no use in stretching it out,” Timotheus said. “If we are going to have to… Let’s do it and not make them suffer this wretched life too much longer…” He began to walk towards the door, and Bleys the Aubergine followed.
“I want to help,” Telémahkos said.
“Wait!” Laarus of Ra cried. “You are planning to kill the breeders? Why? They are no threat!”
“They may be no threat in and of themselves in the short term, but they are being used to breed those ogrillion things,” Markos said.
“They are prisoners who were forced to breed against their will,” Laarus said. “They wear chains. They are not warriors…”
“They are orcs,” Telémahkos said by way of explanation.
“It is too bad we have no means of making them incapable of conception,” Victoria said. “But that would take some learned herblore, and probably resources we are not likely to find.”
“Look Laarus, I don’t like it either, and I plan to remove their chains before they are killed so at least they are free,” Timotheus began.
“You’re going to what?” Markos scoffed. “So we have to chase them around and kill them? If we’re going to kill them, we just kill them. It is a sad necessity, but a necessity, none-the-less…”
“I stand with Brother Laarus,” said Victoria. “They should not be killed. It is not honorable to kill the defenseless, women or children…”
“In the north, when a hobgoblin lair is found, every last of them is put to the sword,” Timotheus said. “They cannot be allowed to regain their numbers because they hate humans and the other good races. They will never stop trying to raze our cities and kill us all… Anyway, it is what they do when they raze human towns… Do you think they would spare our women and children?”
“So we should look to hobgoblins as are moral guides? I think not,” Laarus replied, his face growing flush. He began to walk back out in the larger room where the orc women still cowered.
“Heh. I guess he’s against killing the pregnant ogre, too,” Timotheus said.
“Pregnant ogre!” Bleys’ face betrayed amazement.
“Yep, she’s big… Looked due to pop…”
“How long until an ogre baby is big enough to be a danger?” Markos asked Crusta.
”By the time the seasons pass twice,” Crusta replied. “Same with the ogrillions… They grow fast. Momma grinds up the babies that don’t live and the breeders that die and feeds them…”
“Crusta, would you kill the orc women if asked you to?” Bleys asked her.
”To save my own life? Yes…” She replied.
“That is just is just wrong in so many ways,” Timotheus said, shaking his head. He followed the priest of Ra out into the room. “Laarus, I just have one question: When you came up through the trapdoor, who stabbed at you with a spear?”
Laarus looked at Tim and then at the four groups of orcish women cowering in the corners. They wore stained roughspun smocks, and scratched at each other as they fought to get behind each other and as far away from the noble adventurers as they could. The room was a mess of blood, urine, ratty furs and flea-ridden woolen blankets. The horrendous smell was made just something short of vomit-inducing by the smoking braziers.
“That one,” Laarus pointed to where the orcish crone lay dead, the left side of her head caved in.
“And what are those on her chest?” Tim asked.
“Breasts,” Laarus answered, furrowing his brow as he looked back at Tim. His face bore a look of angry puzzlement.
“Yes, Laarus… Breasts… Women orcs fight and kill, too…”
“They are not fighting and killing now, are they?” Laarus asked in return. “And the orc crone was scared and lucky. She threatened us and paid the price. The same cannot be said of these others.”
By this time, everyone had come back out of the smaller room, Bleys pushing Crusta along at saber-point.
“You know if you try to run we will chase you down and kill you,” he told her in his cold tone.
“Me figured…” She replied, drooling slightly with fear.
“Will you fight to protect these orcs?” Markos asked his cousin.
“Will it come to that?” Laarus’ anger was brimming. The young priest seemed barely contained, but still he did not raise his voice.
“Is that a yes?” Markos asked. “Because if you will raise your weapon to keep us from killing these orc women then I shall concede my position, however reckless it may seem to me to let them live…”
“Sometimes in the cause of honor we leave ourselves vulnerable, but that is why it is called ‘honor,’” Victoria reasoned. She approached one of the orc women to remove the chains, and noticed the shackles had no locks. They had been smelted closed around their arms and waists. Nasty burn scars were visible around the shackles.
Pressed for more answers, Crusta was unable to say where the black orc women had come from, except that Hezrah often disappeared for days or weeks returning with outcasts and slaves in tow. Among these had been a runt of a warg cub that had grown strong on orc and kobold meat. 2 Freed, they would be unable to return to their own tribes, and even if they could they would likely be killed as tainted outsiders.
Crusta snorted and grunted in the orcish tongue, explaining the prisoners that the young nobles only meant to free them, not kill or beat them. The orcs were confused, but eventually calmed down and let Victoria do the carefull work of prying off the shackles with a mallet and an iron spike. Timotheus helped her, and eventually took over freeing the rest.
“Tell them to flee far,” Bleys told Crusta. “If I see them again I will kill them…” The orc women fled from the large room and towards the exit.
When asked what was in the cave just north of this one (also marked as being home to orcs on their map), Crusta said, “undead orcs.”
The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland collected their gear and loot and began to make their way back to the grove where they usually camped out. Crusta was brought along as prisoner, her wrists bound, but her feet let free so she could walk with no trouble. She looked around furtively and with great fear as they came out into the gorge and then out towards the plain. Markos walked along side of her, asking her many questions about her knowledge of witchcraft and asking after her tokens. She explained they were hidden and buried, but she would show him to them if he wanted. The others were against the detour. It would have to wait.
“So, what is the plan for tomorrow?” Timotheus asked Bleys as they walked.
“We go and kill the goblins,” Bleys said flatly.
“Except for the goblin women and children, them we leave to starve or to be killed by kobolds to show them the merciful ways of our gods,” Telémahkos said with a wink, making sure that Laarus heard him. If he did, the priest of Ra ignored the jab. He walked in the rear of the line occasionally talking with Victoria.
“You know, when it comes time to fight hobgoblins, we are going to have to be careful to stay away from the priests,” Telémahkos said to his cousin.
“It makes no difference,” Timotheus frowned. “No one is going to stop me from doing what needs to be done when it comes to safety of our homeland…” Brimming with sudden anger at the thought, Tim slowed his pace to allow Laarus to catch up.
“Hobgoblins are different,” Timotheus began.
Laarus was puzzled.
“They are an immediate threat,” Timotheus continued. “If we come across one of their lairs, they would all have to die. Every one of them… The fact that they are an immediate threat makes it a different case than with these orc women…”
Laarus of Ra shook his head. “There is no difference. Would you kill an innocent babe if it meant that all hobgoblins would die?’
“What?!” Timotheus was outraged. “You think hobgoblins are innocent?”
“That is not what I said,” Laarus replied.
“I am fncking insulted that you would insinuate that I would kill some innocent baby, and to compare a human baby to some fnckin’ hobos!” Timotheus marched back up the line fuming.
“The gods have always confused me,” said Telémahkos when he returned. “That’s why I like Bes and Bast. Simple. I need luck and I like cats.” He smiled at his tall cousin.
“I’d make a lousy priest of Nephthys,” Timotheus said, and marched to the very front of the line. Only Falco walked ahead of him, sixty feet ahead of the group, as was his habit.
“Will one of you be my boyfriend?” Crusta asked with a saddened voice when got to the grove and began to settle in to rest of the remainder of the day. It was the hot part of the afternoon when they got back, and most of them flopped down to rest and drink water.
“I will be your boyfriend,” Markos said, feeling sorry for her. Crusta gave a weak smile and sidled up next to him. She was taller than he was, but gangly and stooped.
“I wish I could put soap in my head,” Timotheus said when he saw her cozy up to him.
“Why not try putting some on your body every now and again,” Telémahkos quipped.
“Hey! I bathe!” Timotheus gave his cousin a hard put playful shove and Telémahkos tripped across Victoria’s bedroll. She gave him a withering look.
Later, after long examination, Markos announced that two of the potions taken from Hezrah’s lair were indeed potions of invisibility.
…to be continued…
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Click here to see a replica of the painted plaque.
2 This was the warg that Dunlevey and Telémahkos were fighting in the narrow hall near the entrance to the cave in Session #15.
Last edited:
Martin Olarin
First Post
ok - this was ffing funny.
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