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Seldarn Empire - The Mega-Module Jam

Yip

First Post
Yips are pretty adaptable little blighters, I am sure you'd be able to find them doing almost anything.

A druidic Yip. I just get a mental picture of Yoda in that swamp.

"mmm, level you up I will".

They may be weak, but they do have other benefits such as being extremely hard to hit (Yip's usually have a level of monk) and are fairly nimble.
 

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Lela

First Post
I recall one player I know mentioning how there are ECL+s for powerful races (Drow, Trolls, Balors) but no ECL-s for weak races (Rats, Toads, Kobalds, Goblins). Considering how much stuff besides ability ajustments standard races get, it seems reasonable that the lowly Kobald should get something. Perhaps I'd hand out some of the Halfling or Gnome stuff to help make up for it.

Still, it's an interesting thought.
 
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Yip

First Post
Arwink was nice enough to tweak the starting package for Yips. I can't recall the exact details, but they are a little more useful than would otherwise have been the case.

I think it basically entailed lots of bonuses to their 'scurry around in the dark avoiding traps' skills.

This would have been very usefull for the first Yip that failed the scythe trap detect. Splatter doesn't begin to describe that occurence. I still wake up late at night in a cold sweat wiping imaginary Yip yuck off me.
 

Lela

First Post
I'd love to see it. Yips sound like a good idea for me to pop into my campaign right now.

Anyone care to create a Yip's Rogues Gallery thread? I'm sure some would even be willing to add a few ideas or full blown (N)PCs to it.
 


arwink

Clockwork Golem
Wednesday, August 23rd, 508 AF

Durhon insists that it is dawn on the surface, but there is little in the storeroom to say one way or another. The dark gloom is fought back only by the few glowing weapons and items of power the various veterans possess, the morning chorus replaced by the muttering and snarling of the undead beyond the barricaded door. Dawn becomes an idea, a marker of time when Warwind’s mind is rested enough to retain spells and Heironous will listen to Calmert’s prayers once more. Durhon simply paces, his hobnailed boots scraping against the stone floor with a rasp that makes Yip wince. Every now and then the dwarf will look at the small kobold, his expression questioning. Yip just shrugs, years of habit teaching him that noise in close proximity to an enemy is something to worry about. Durhon glowers, starts taking experimental swings with his axe to limber up.

“I’m ready,” Warwind says quietly. A few minutes later, the sound of Calmert’s whispered chanting ceases.
“Me too.”

They start pulling debris from the doorway as quietly as they can, letting the lightly armoured Yip and Warwind do much of the work.

“Ready,” Yip asks when the task is done. He stands by the doorway, a paw resting on the latch the holds the door shut. There is a mute round of nods, and the small kobold swings the door open.

The first thing to hit them is the stench, the smell of carrion and death wafting through the open door like a physical attack. Yip, Warwind and Durhon manage to ignore it, their sense of smell deadened after the horrors of the war, but Calmert’s presence was less and the shining cleric saw less front-line action. He gags, a splatter of vomit hitting the face-plate of his armour, but charges forward regardless.

There are dead surrounding the doorway, a morass of shambling zombies and slavering ghouls. Some are gnolls, the wounds from yesterday’s fight still fresh on their body, while others are dressed in dark robes so old that the tatters are almost threadbare. Everyone looks around, taking note of an easy target, and the Veterans of the Trollmist surge forward. Elven sword, Kobold fist and dwarven axe lash out, devastating one of the more decayed ghouls, while the lumbering form of Calmert holds his sword aloft and chokes a prayer through the mess on his face-plate.

“Shining lord of Valor, cleanse this wretches of their taint.”

Zombies burst open, a silvery light spilling out of their flesh as they burn to a crisp in the face of Calmert’s faith. Even two of the ghouls scampers backward, fleeing from the holy light. Those that remain lash out with claws and fang, tearing rents in the armour of Durhon and scoring Warwind's flesh. For a moment, the elf feels the chill touch of death settle on his bones, but his elven soul sings of immortality and he throws off the paralysing fear of deaths touch. With a grin at the surprised ghoul, Warwind mutters the words of a spell and fires a pair of magic missiles into its chest. The flesh scorches and burns as the creature drops to the ground. Durhon and Yip team up. The ghouls are fast and strong, death granting them a power beyond the ken of mortals, but Yip is skilled to dance through their defences and flank them. Even the dead aren’t skilled at splitting their focus in a battle, and the combination of whirling paws and flashing axe cut through ghoulish defences with surprising elegance. The one ghoul that survives initial contact with the pair is badly damaged by their attack, and is in no fit state to keep Warwind and a still nauseas Calmert from surrounding it and beating it to the ground.

In the space of twenty seconds, the room is cleared. The only sound that can be heard is the soft pad of fleeing ghoulish feet.

“After ‘em,” Durhon snarls, and everyone sprints. Yip runs like a hasted gazelle, his feet barely toughing the ground. Durhon barrels forth with a speed that belies his heavy armour and dwarven stature. Warwind keeps pace with a long, elven stride.

Calmert lumbers along behind, failing to keep pace in his heavy plate armour and half-blinded by his own bile. He curses quietly as he runs, silently praying that the fight is almost over so he gets a chance to wipe himself clean…
 


arwink

Clockwork Golem
One more update, and we should be at the spot where the second session ended.

Two or three, and I should have introduced Capellan's PC :D
 

arwink

Clockwork Golem
Wednesday, August 23rd, 508 AF, continued

The fleeing ghouls scamper down a short corridor and into a room that bears the trappings of a torture chamber. Rusting racks and manacles fill the room, and two thick stone pillars support the walls. As Yip and Durhon burst into the room, they see the two ghouls scrambling desperately at one of the pillars. For a moment it seems as though the creatures are trying to climb to the stone ceiling, but that's all the consideration their actions are given before kobold paw and great axe are launched with deadly precision.

The sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone fill the room as Warwind arrives, the pale elf rattling off the words to a spell and launching a pair of glowing arrows at the ghoul battling Yip. As Calmert bursts into the room, his sword held at the ready, the fleeing ghouls are already one their way to a second death. Calmert grunts once in consternation, trying to hold his breath against the smell of drying vomit on his armor, then charges forward to cut one of the ghouls down. The second beast backs away, outnumbered and outclassed by the veteran soldiers, but he makes it no more than four steps before he too is laid low.

"Done," Durhon grunts with pride. He hawks up a mouthfull of spit and projects it onto the twitching corpses of the ghouls. Calmert is already searching his pack for a rag, trying to find some way to clean off his armor. Yip, Durhon and Warwind mostly look on with disguised amusement.

"I thought ye said ye were a soldier," Durhon says through his grin. "Would have thought yer dinner would hold longer than that."
"The smell was horrible," Calmert says, his voice calm. The others can see colour slowly returning to the clerics cheeks.
"Bah, that weren't nothin," Durhon smiles cheerfully. "Ye should have seen the charnel house that was left after the Ambush at Krellek's Pass. That was a whiff worth rememberin'. Eight thousand corpses, three days in the sun after a torrential rain. Yeh almos' felt sorry fer the boys on burial detail."

The colour in Calmerts cheeks drains away once more as Durhon heads towards the hallway, laughing.
"Back to the room," Durhon says as he leaves. "After yer cleaned up, we'll get movin' and see if we can find yer cousin."
 
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Lela

First Post
arwink said:
Wednesday, August 23rd, 508 AF, continued

"Bah, that weren't nothin," Durhon smiles cheerfully. "Ye should have seen the charnel house that was left after the Ambush at Krellek's Pass. That was a whiff worth rememberin'. Eight thousand corpses, three days in the sun after a torrential rain. Yeh almos' felt sorry fer the boys on burial detail."

The colour in Calmerts cheeks drains away once more as Durhon heads towards the hallway, laughing.

Yuck, sick, and Durhon rocks!
 

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