Greenfield
Adventurer
Well, I settled the battle a bit differently. I had the scene at Thermopylea depend on how well the party did in Anopaea.
I had 500 Persians plus a Sand Dragon and rider, a Dunewinder worm and tenders, a small cadre of arcane casters and some healers.
Initially, the Persians were going to drive their Dunewinder worm up the narrow pass ahead of them. The pass is described as a goat path, so the huge burrowing creature could and would widen the way as it went.
A Dunewinder (Sandstorm supplement) is similar to a Purple Worm, but has a breath weapon instead of Swallow Whole.
They had their dragon and rider flying high cover, more for observation than anything else. He'd hit them the night before, and had discovered that the party Druid had access to the Downdraft spell, which makes life miserable for flying monsters. As a result, they held him in reserve this day.
One PC, the party combat machine, stood in the narrow pass. He looked up, raised his sword, and pointed to the dragon rider, issuing a personal challenge.
Settling a day's conflict with a meeting of champions is an ancient tradition, and the dragon rider accepted the challenge. The worm was held back as terms were discussed.
If the PC lost, the party would retreat from the pass by half a mile, yielding the choke point they'd blocked and making it much easier for the larger force to advance.
If the dragon rider lost, the Persians would fall back a similar distance. In either case, the battle would be done for the day.
The rider offered to let the PC call for a horse, so he'd have a more mobile combat base. Still sucks compared to the dragon, but the PC said no.
The battle began with the dragon rider trying to thread the needle with his mount, flying down a very narrow, winding trail at the PC. The rider had his long lance ready, and the Spirited Charge feat, but the fighter's AC was pretty good, and the dragon was in "cramped quarters" as far as mobility was concerned, so he missed.
Then the PC pulled his dirty trick. A Magic Item Compendium item he had that I'd forgotten about. It's called a Transposer's Cloak, or something like that. It lets you switch places with someone else, though they do get a save if they're unwilling.
Dragon rider rolled badly, and suddenly he's on the ground and the PC is in his saddle.
The dragon tried to throw him, but his dice were hot when he needed them to be, and he managed to get the riding straps secured. He drew his greatsword (he'd dropped his other blades when the dragon went bucking-bronco on him) and ordered the dragon, in Draconic, to land safely of he'd kill him.
Th dragon eased up and began to descend. People on the ground realized what was happening and shouted a warning, that the dragon was coming in very fast. PC struck, critted, folloed up with a second blow, and the pair were headed for a serious crash landing on some very sharp rocks. The dragon had simply gambled that he could take the landing better than the guy on his back could. And he was right.
Now, while all of this was going on the now earthbound dragon rider was screaming about treachery, and trying to figure out what to do about it. He had a wand of Fireballs, but didn't want to hurt his own dragon. And since everyone else had agreed to stay out of it it would have been a violation of the singular challenge for him to attack anyone else. Would have been suicidal too, since he was in the middle of the enemy camp.
Now come in a dragon, bleeding, on a crash course for the rocky hillside.
By chance, they came in range once more, and the PC activated his Cloak again. (3 uses per day, by the book). Dragon-pedestrian fails his save, again, and the PC is safe on the ground and the rider is back in the saddle of a dragon right before impact.
He wasn't strapped in, and after the crash he got flung down that hillside for more damage.
The dragon was conscious, but in great pain, and far too badly injured to even consider continuing that fight. The PC didn't have a scratch on him.
The dragon considered a suicidal assault, but heard his rider moan, and went to help him instead.
Dragons with spell casting ability cast like sorcerers, but can include some divine spells in their mix. He used a Cure Light to save the rider, healed himself a bit, and retreated to the Persian camp.
Pcs win the day, and the Persians retreat.
The Persian retreat didn't mean much though, since they'd just come back the next day. The PCs already held exactly the ground they wanted, and advancing would have lead them to more open ground, where the enemy's superior numbers could be employed.
During the time off, though, the player running the so-called Son of Jupiter decided to do the chivalrous thing. He picked up the rider's lance, which kind of got left on the field, and during the agreed upon day of cease-fire he walked it down to the enemy camp. He made it clear that he was just returning the weapons of an honorable opponent, and was given and armed/honor guard escort to the camp commander.
He introduced himself by name, though he didn't mention his family history. The Persian leader had heard of him however (the party did some adventuring in that part of the world), and was a bit set back. He offered Marcus (the PC) the opportunity to leave the field with honor, a sort of "Don't make me kill you" kind of thing. Marcus declined, and was given safe passage back out of camp.
The word that they were fighting the son of a god went through the camp, however, and didn't help morale at all.
Next day the Persians begin with the worm again, flanked by tenders riding a smaller type of sand worm.
The Barb/Wiz dropped a Wall of Fire the length of the narrow trail, though it was pointed out that the trail wasn't straight, so he couldn't simply fill the whole thing. In any case, one of the enemy casters used Dispel Magic and took the thing down, and the worm advance.
A second party caster dropped a fireball on the thing and did a little damage.
The party combat machine stood in the path again. The Dunewinder charged and missed by one point.
The PC opened his can of wupass on the thing and to the surprise of everyone (including me) dropped it in one round. The thing went through death throes, which in its case means a 12 D4 explosion affecting everything within 60 feet.
Killed one of the tenders outright, injured the rest, slaughtered some archers the party had hidden in the rocks, and hurt some people pretty seriously.
The the Barb/Wizard used his wand again, and another Wall of Fire ran down the trail, killing another of the worm tenders and making it rough for the pair that were left.
One fell back only to be cut down by his own people for cowardice in the face of the enemy. The other charged forward, threw a feeble spell, more a gesture than an attack, and surrendered when given the chance. He had 4 hit points left, and his mount was almost dead.
The enemy tried to Dispel the wall again but couldn't. Archery duel ensued, using mass fire rules. Ugly to be a low level type, but little effect on the higher level PCs.
The Druid/Ranger used bird form to take a high position, then cast Wind Tunnel. The spell doubles archery range, as well as granting a decent bonus to hit. Then he began firing at what would normally be extreme range, and plunking shots into the Persian commander.
The PC combat machine charged down the path, using Dimensional Stride boots to bypass the majority of the Wall of Fire, to emerge near the front of the Persian formations. Marcus rode his warhorse down the path, right through the fire, and came out beside the combat machine.
The enemy commander took it as an article of faith that adventuring groups are hell on wheels, for about two minutes. He'd held back once the wall went up, knowing that it would come down in a minute ot two. He had five hundred men, and he had all day.
The PCs advancing forced his hand. He ordered the men to charge.
A Phalanx formation, prepared to head up a narrow path, is a terrible thing to send against a Half Dragon who hasn't used his breath weapon yet today. He laid a Line effect right down their column, wiping out two dozen men in a single shot.
Then it just became a game of statistics. He could Great Cleave through as many men as he could reach. (He's in the "Don't roll a 1" category vs the ACs of the lower level troops, and his minimum damage drops them.)
But each round, a few would manage to get through his defense, inflicting a D8 here and a D8 there. So the commander was looking at this and calculated that the guy would go through a hundred of his men before he dropped. And to him, that was an acceptable arrangement. He could call for re-enforcements, if he needed to, but that crazy fighter couldn;t be replaced nearly as easily.
The Marcus joined in, and though he wasn't auto-killing eight at a time, he was laying out a lot of soldiers.
Still a likely victory for the Persians, in the commanders view, though an expensive one.
Then the Barb/Wiz and the Cleric/Wiz/Mystic Thurge flew up above the intervening landscape and began to blast away at the archers and the command corps. The arcane casters started to counterspell what they could while others returned fire. The PCs were higher level casters, but their arcane group of the Persians outnumbered them, and so the actual spell count was comparable.
The Persians might still have carried the day on sheer numbers, but the Druid/Ranger started getting hot dice. One crit and one very good hit did nearly half the Persian commander's hit points in a single round, and he dropped the next.
The second in command saw lightning bolts ripping through his staff and his morale broke. He called for the men to fall back.
They tried sending forays up the pass several times over the next few days. The PCs were nice enough to let some of them leave alive.
The Persians had lost too many men on that morning's battle, and as far as they could tell the PCs hadn't lost anyone. That meant the party would begin fresh the next time they met, so the math just didn't work any more. They didn't have enough men left to try to force their way through on just numbers.
Watching their dragon rider get owned that badly by a single fighter was unnerving, and herding that Dunewinder all the way here from the deserts of the middle east, just to watch it explode almost before it arrived was a true shock.
So the tales will be told of how the son of Jupiter rode through flaming death to hold the pass, while Sylus, an Olympic champion archerm stood on a mountain far beyond any hope of return fire, and struck down the commander with arrow fire like thunderbolts. They'll talk of Drell, who held the way singlehanded against dragon and worm, and carved a path through his enemies while screaming in frustration that he couldn't reach them fast enough.
The story will grow in the telling, as such things do, and the battle will be the stuff of legends.
And I think that that's the way stuff like this should be, don't you?
I had 500 Persians plus a Sand Dragon and rider, a Dunewinder worm and tenders, a small cadre of arcane casters and some healers.
Initially, the Persians were going to drive their Dunewinder worm up the narrow pass ahead of them. The pass is described as a goat path, so the huge burrowing creature could and would widen the way as it went.
A Dunewinder (Sandstorm supplement) is similar to a Purple Worm, but has a breath weapon instead of Swallow Whole.
They had their dragon and rider flying high cover, more for observation than anything else. He'd hit them the night before, and had discovered that the party Druid had access to the Downdraft spell, which makes life miserable for flying monsters. As a result, they held him in reserve this day.
One PC, the party combat machine, stood in the narrow pass. He looked up, raised his sword, and pointed to the dragon rider, issuing a personal challenge.
Settling a day's conflict with a meeting of champions is an ancient tradition, and the dragon rider accepted the challenge. The worm was held back as terms were discussed.
If the PC lost, the party would retreat from the pass by half a mile, yielding the choke point they'd blocked and making it much easier for the larger force to advance.
If the dragon rider lost, the Persians would fall back a similar distance. In either case, the battle would be done for the day.
The rider offered to let the PC call for a horse, so he'd have a more mobile combat base. Still sucks compared to the dragon, but the PC said no.
The battle began with the dragon rider trying to thread the needle with his mount, flying down a very narrow, winding trail at the PC. The rider had his long lance ready, and the Spirited Charge feat, but the fighter's AC was pretty good, and the dragon was in "cramped quarters" as far as mobility was concerned, so he missed.
Then the PC pulled his dirty trick. A Magic Item Compendium item he had that I'd forgotten about. It's called a Transposer's Cloak, or something like that. It lets you switch places with someone else, though they do get a save if they're unwilling.
Dragon rider rolled badly, and suddenly he's on the ground and the PC is in his saddle.
The dragon tried to throw him, but his dice were hot when he needed them to be, and he managed to get the riding straps secured. He drew his greatsword (he'd dropped his other blades when the dragon went bucking-bronco on him) and ordered the dragon, in Draconic, to land safely of he'd kill him.
Th dragon eased up and began to descend. People on the ground realized what was happening and shouted a warning, that the dragon was coming in very fast. PC struck, critted, folloed up with a second blow, and the pair were headed for a serious crash landing on some very sharp rocks. The dragon had simply gambled that he could take the landing better than the guy on his back could. And he was right.
Now, while all of this was going on the now earthbound dragon rider was screaming about treachery, and trying to figure out what to do about it. He had a wand of Fireballs, but didn't want to hurt his own dragon. And since everyone else had agreed to stay out of it it would have been a violation of the singular challenge for him to attack anyone else. Would have been suicidal too, since he was in the middle of the enemy camp.
Now come in a dragon, bleeding, on a crash course for the rocky hillside.
By chance, they came in range once more, and the PC activated his Cloak again. (3 uses per day, by the book). Dragon-pedestrian fails his save, again, and the PC is safe on the ground and the rider is back in the saddle of a dragon right before impact.
He wasn't strapped in, and after the crash he got flung down that hillside for more damage.
The dragon was conscious, but in great pain, and far too badly injured to even consider continuing that fight. The PC didn't have a scratch on him.
The dragon considered a suicidal assault, but heard his rider moan, and went to help him instead.
Dragons with spell casting ability cast like sorcerers, but can include some divine spells in their mix. He used a Cure Light to save the rider, healed himself a bit, and retreated to the Persian camp.
Pcs win the day, and the Persians retreat.
The Persian retreat didn't mean much though, since they'd just come back the next day. The PCs already held exactly the ground they wanted, and advancing would have lead them to more open ground, where the enemy's superior numbers could be employed.
During the time off, though, the player running the so-called Son of Jupiter decided to do the chivalrous thing. He picked up the rider's lance, which kind of got left on the field, and during the agreed upon day of cease-fire he walked it down to the enemy camp. He made it clear that he was just returning the weapons of an honorable opponent, and was given and armed/honor guard escort to the camp commander.
He introduced himself by name, though he didn't mention his family history. The Persian leader had heard of him however (the party did some adventuring in that part of the world), and was a bit set back. He offered Marcus (the PC) the opportunity to leave the field with honor, a sort of "Don't make me kill you" kind of thing. Marcus declined, and was given safe passage back out of camp.
The word that they were fighting the son of a god went through the camp, however, and didn't help morale at all.
Next day the Persians begin with the worm again, flanked by tenders riding a smaller type of sand worm.
The Barb/Wiz dropped a Wall of Fire the length of the narrow trail, though it was pointed out that the trail wasn't straight, so he couldn't simply fill the whole thing. In any case, one of the enemy casters used Dispel Magic and took the thing down, and the worm advance.
A second party caster dropped a fireball on the thing and did a little damage.
The party combat machine stood in the path again. The Dunewinder charged and missed by one point.
The PC opened his can of wupass on the thing and to the surprise of everyone (including me) dropped it in one round. The thing went through death throes, which in its case means a 12 D4 explosion affecting everything within 60 feet.
Killed one of the tenders outright, injured the rest, slaughtered some archers the party had hidden in the rocks, and hurt some people pretty seriously.
The the Barb/Wizard used his wand again, and another Wall of Fire ran down the trail, killing another of the worm tenders and making it rough for the pair that were left.
One fell back only to be cut down by his own people for cowardice in the face of the enemy. The other charged forward, threw a feeble spell, more a gesture than an attack, and surrendered when given the chance. He had 4 hit points left, and his mount was almost dead.
The enemy tried to Dispel the wall again but couldn't. Archery duel ensued, using mass fire rules. Ugly to be a low level type, but little effect on the higher level PCs.
The Druid/Ranger used bird form to take a high position, then cast Wind Tunnel. The spell doubles archery range, as well as granting a decent bonus to hit. Then he began firing at what would normally be extreme range, and plunking shots into the Persian commander.
The PC combat machine charged down the path, using Dimensional Stride boots to bypass the majority of the Wall of Fire, to emerge near the front of the Persian formations. Marcus rode his warhorse down the path, right through the fire, and came out beside the combat machine.
The enemy commander took it as an article of faith that adventuring groups are hell on wheels, for about two minutes. He'd held back once the wall went up, knowing that it would come down in a minute ot two. He had five hundred men, and he had all day.
The PCs advancing forced his hand. He ordered the men to charge.
A Phalanx formation, prepared to head up a narrow path, is a terrible thing to send against a Half Dragon who hasn't used his breath weapon yet today. He laid a Line effect right down their column, wiping out two dozen men in a single shot.
Then it just became a game of statistics. He could Great Cleave through as many men as he could reach. (He's in the "Don't roll a 1" category vs the ACs of the lower level troops, and his minimum damage drops them.)
But each round, a few would manage to get through his defense, inflicting a D8 here and a D8 there. So the commander was looking at this and calculated that the guy would go through a hundred of his men before he dropped. And to him, that was an acceptable arrangement. He could call for re-enforcements, if he needed to, but that crazy fighter couldn;t be replaced nearly as easily.
The Marcus joined in, and though he wasn't auto-killing eight at a time, he was laying out a lot of soldiers.
Still a likely victory for the Persians, in the commanders view, though an expensive one.
Then the Barb/Wiz and the Cleric/Wiz/Mystic Thurge flew up above the intervening landscape and began to blast away at the archers and the command corps. The arcane casters started to counterspell what they could while others returned fire. The PCs were higher level casters, but their arcane group of the Persians outnumbered them, and so the actual spell count was comparable.
The Persians might still have carried the day on sheer numbers, but the Druid/Ranger started getting hot dice. One crit and one very good hit did nearly half the Persian commander's hit points in a single round, and he dropped the next.
The second in command saw lightning bolts ripping through his staff and his morale broke. He called for the men to fall back.
They tried sending forays up the pass several times over the next few days. The PCs were nice enough to let some of them leave alive.
The Persians had lost too many men on that morning's battle, and as far as they could tell the PCs hadn't lost anyone. That meant the party would begin fresh the next time they met, so the math just didn't work any more. They didn't have enough men left to try to force their way through on just numbers.
Watching their dragon rider get owned that badly by a single fighter was unnerving, and herding that Dunewinder all the way here from the deserts of the middle east, just to watch it explode almost before it arrived was a true shock.
So the tales will be told of how the son of Jupiter rode through flaming death to hold the pass, while Sylus, an Olympic champion archerm stood on a mountain far beyond any hope of return fire, and struck down the commander with arrow fire like thunderbolts. They'll talk of Drell, who held the way singlehanded against dragon and worm, and carved a path through his enemies while screaming in frustration that he couldn't reach them fast enough.
The story will grow in the telling, as such things do, and the battle will be the stuff of legends.
And I think that that's the way stuff like this should be, don't you?