Shorecon 2003 ENWorld Con Report (w/Pics and Badges)
- Thread starter WizarDru
- Start date
Argent Silvermage
First Post
Oh. So we're playing that game. I can sew. thats all I really have to say, that And I know a LOT of Drag Queens!Sam said:That's it! I'm going out this weekend to buy the loudest shirt I can find and having "Not Argent's Bitch!" embroidered across the back in neon yellow!
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Michael Tree
First Post
I may have to concede that. Perhaps we can agree that WizarDru was using a Camera of Unflatteringness.Argent said:
I wish I could join in the awful bright contest. When I moved to the states I went through my closet for shirts that I havn't worn in years, and gave away many at the oh-so-gentle-but-resolute-and-slightly-mocking suggestion of my girlfriend. What little I have left is still in Canada.
Shame, cause I had some read doozies. I went though a nouveau-gypsy/pirate phase in high school. Hence my plush parrot Rasputin which I had fastened to my shoulder for a little while, which I mentioned in the pub.
Valanthe the Sleepless
First Post
Michael Tree said:
Actually, it was me who took most of the people shots. And I humbly aplogize for any of the unflattering photos.
Except maybe the one of Argent being befuddled by the phone
*snicker*
WizarDru
Adventurer
Heh. In the immortal words of Homer Simpson: "No one wins a butter-eating contest."
Anywho, real life has been intruding in a rather horrible fashion, so the story's a little late. Sorry 'bout that. That'll teach me to have the temerity to think that life was going really well, currently.
But enough of that. Where were we? Oh, yes.
The door opened creakily...far louder than anyone would have liked, before thumping against whatever was preventing the door from opening fully. Fearing the worst, one by one they drew near to the door as the rogue passed inside to encounter....an overturned chair. The rogue sighed with relief, until she noticed the blood.
The chair, fashioned from a hollowed out log, lay knocked over. Where it had fallen, blood had pooled precisely where one's head might have hit the floor. Only that and some tattered blue cloth spoke of the fate of the chair's most recent occupant. Across the table lay sprawled a chess board, the pieces knocked about haphazardly. A second chair had been pushed back, and mug lay smashed on the table, it's contents of mead still dripping onto the floor. A sparsely furnished room showed signs of a brief but violent struggle.
Pausing a moment to note the bed and shelving, the group spread out, investigating the kitchen and then the mud room. Certain that the shack was, in fact, unoccupied, they took to investigating in earnest. The fighter kept watch, every ready for trouble.
A small bed was nearby, ruffled from the laziness of it's owner, but otherwise there was no sign that anyone had been involved in searching the shack. Clearly, it's occupant or occupants had been the target. Under the bed, however, was a simple but nasty trap securing a small journal to the bottom of the bed. After a tricky affair of removing it, the bard began to scan through it's contents.
The sorceror noted the odd tchotckes scattered about the room, such as trinkets from the Iron Hills, badges from Veluna and Nyrond, and keepsakes from around the Flanaess. Not the sort of items a simple hermit would keep. The monk found some formal clothes in one of the drawers...rich velvet and fine tailoring. But it was the rogue who discovered that the fireplace in the kitchen held a false back, with some loose bricks covering a hidden keepspace. Within was found some items of magical make: a dagger, some potions, some scrolls and a letter of mark from the Keoish crown, along with another small journal in the same hand (but obviously older).
The party quickly absorbed the material and began to piece together the mystery with other information they already had. In rapid succession, they came to several conclusions:
"Old Tym" was once known as "Honeycombe Tym", and was actually an adventurer and spy in the service of the crown. He was well respected at court, and was often sent to infiltrate and gather information for the crown. Some 22 years ago, he had been sent to a remote village name Clifftowne to investigate reports that the local lord was not serving his vassalage or his village. He discovered a small town under siege by a tribe of goblin refugees from the Hateful Wars to the north. They had fled to greener pastures, and were raiding the village from the forest.
Tym also found something else in the village...a lady love. Determined to save the village, Tym convinced the only two locals who would help and were worth the effort, the druid Bulwark and a hedge wizard named Trimdall, to aid his cause. Together, they set out to deal with the renegade tribe. They discovered not only the goblins, but their powerful shaman and his ogre lackey.
A fierce battle ensued, with Bulwark incapicitated and Tym stunned. Trimdall had a chance to flee or fight...he chose to risk his life for the village and fight. His choice of spell led to his death at the ogre's hands...but by that point, the others had recovered, and slew the shaman and ogre both. Trimdall, however, had given his life to protect others...and Tym made sure they knew it.
In short order the local lord was deposed, the town renamed Trimdall in the wizard's honor and Tym resigned his commision with the crown, settling in the newly-rechristened village with Anni, his new wife. And things were good...for a while. A tower was built in his honor, and his twin sons were born and raised there. Tym occasionally maintained a relationship with the court, but for practical purposes had retired.
But Tym was loathe to part with his 'tools of the trade', such as they were, and kept them hidden from view. But ten years ago, his twin sons curiousity brought tragedy to the family. The brothers discovered Tym's cache of adventuring equipment, and one managed to activate a Necklace of Fireballs that Tym kept in case old enemies came to call. The resulting explosion badly wounded both boys, burning and scarring each horribly. Worse, their mother was killed in the explosion.
The boys bodies returned to health, except for the scarring, and each refused to have their scars removed. Their bitterness towards each other grew as each blamed the other for their mother's death and their own disfigurement. Within two years, both had run away from home, and Tym was unable to find them.
Eventually, the younger brother returned, after wandering for several years. He had found solace amongst the Silent Brotherhood, and had dedicated his life to the destruction of dangerous magical artifacts...his way of dealing with the pain of his mother's death. He vieled his face, to hide the horrible scarring from the accident. He would make occasional visits to their father, particularly when he heard new of his brother, who had also found a calling. But unlike his brother, he chose the way of anger and became an agent for the Scarlet Brotherhood, seeking to impose his will on others. While the younger brother sought to lock away or destroy dangerous magic, the older sought to dominate them and make his control of them absolute. Turned bitter by self-loathing, he lashed out at any who dared oppose him.
Their paths crossed more than once, but had recently crossed over an ancient Suel artifact known only as "The Kiss of Ralishaz". The last communication that they had shared indicated that the younger son had learned that an evil lord in the Paynims had acquired it, and he was going to try and secure it for the Silent Ones.
The party quickly realized that the strange blazing item in the sky was this strange artifact...but where was it? And where was Lord Overbrook, anyways?
The fighter then noticed tracks leading outside...snake tracks. Normally the earth and darkness would have made it difficult to follow them...but something had been moved from near the shack. Something big, heavy and flat. After finding tracks of a body being dragged to the object, they surmised that it was a cage, of some sort. They quickly gave chase.
The tracks led to a small dock on the village lake, towards an island where the wizard Trimdall had once had his tower, and where it's remains still lay. The snake tracks showed that a boat had been taken, the heavy object moved into it, and then walked (!) to the island. Several of the party could see odd lights on the island with a fiery red tint. Commandeering a boat of their own, they set out.
As soon as they struck land, they began preparations for battle. The bard and sorceror could hear foul incantaions in progress, from a hideous lisping voice. The power of chaos was in the air. They charged forth across the tiny isle.
What they saw confirmed their fears. An older man, clearly Old Tym, and the blue-robed stranger that they'd heard of lay unconscious and bound on the ground. A large cage of iron sat nearby, with a viscious-looking wolf contained within. It's eyes held a frightening intesity, and it looked apprehensive. It clearly had reason to. For nearby, driven into the ground at the center of a magic circle, stood the Kiss of Ralishaz itslef, aglow with chaotic power. It was then they had noticed the chanting had stopped.
From behind one of the great stone remanants of the tower, he rose. The older brother was no longer human, and as he rose on his snake body, the party could think of nothing else but a Yuan-ti Abomination. He wore scarlet-colored armor emblazoned with the arcane symbols, and bore a huge halberd of wicked make upon his back. One of his harms now resembled a set of tentacles, while the other was abnormally large, with claws that dripped of poison. He screamed a defiant challenge, swearing that the party would not interrupt the ceremony.
The cleric/fighter quickly realized the truth. Ralishaz, the Suel god known as "the Unsought One"...the staff was a holy relic of his followers. It was the personification of chaos and change. The spell the elder was casting would use it's power to change him back to normal....but he wasn't sure...so he was using Lord Overbrook as a test. If he could transform Overbrook back to human, then he would restore himself. Either way, he wanted his father and brother to watch, before he killed them both. It was clear his sanity was in question.
The party enjoined the fearsome foe, delivering punishment to him...but he was resistant to their spells, and well-armored. The party feared of surviving the battle. But the bard had read the journals of Old Tym well, and she knew something of how people think....and more importantly, how they feel. Sure her spells would be useless, and uncertain of her weapons, she used the talents she knew best.
As the warriors traded blow for blow, and death loomed near, she summoned a simple ghost sound spell.
"Ahmee???", came the pleading voice, using his mother's pet name for him. "It's Mommy. Why are you hurting people, Ahmee?"i
The Elder brother was stunned. "Mommy?", he called, uncertain what he had just heard. Was her ghost trying to speak to him? Was it the magic of the Kiss? Could he...restore her?
He was swept from his reveries by strikes from the heroes, as they renewed their attacks. Uncertain, he merely defended against their blows. He prepared to retailate, but then again, stronger this time, he heard the voice: "Ahmee, why are you hurting people? You're making Mommy sad...." His body shook from uncertainty, and he began openly weeping. The fighting priest of Heironeous cared little, and he and the gnomish sorceror intended to drive the abomination into the earth.
The younger brother, barely conscious, pleaded for this brother's life. The monk asked that the scarlet brother be brought to the King's justice, moments before the priest could deliver the killing blow. Which proved fortuitios, as slaying the elder would have sent the Kiss of Ralishaz flying for a new master to find it, much as it had weeks past, when the two brothers clashed over it, and killed the Paynim lord in the process.
By the next morning, everyone had been healed, and the village saved. Lord Overbrook's secret remained intact, and he rewarded the heroes as best he could, including the chickens.
Old Tym thanked the players for both his sons, and the younger brother saw him deliverd to Gradsul.
Poor Ewan, the tax collector, scrambled together what little dignity he had, and took his guardians with him, helping to escort the caged elder brother back to justice...and to question his ability to read ledgers...forevermore.
And there you have it. My next project? To translate that into a module to submit to Dungoen magazine. I'd post the pictures and maps I drew for the module, but I've already subjected you folks to enough bandwidth wastage...and that stuff was drawn by me, not claudio pozas.
Thank for all the kind words, glad you all enjoyed it.
Anywho, real life has been intruding in a rather horrible fashion, so the story's a little late. Sorry 'bout that. That'll teach me to have the temerity to think that life was going really well, currently.
But enough of that. Where were we? Oh, yes.
The door opened creakily...far louder than anyone would have liked, before thumping against whatever was preventing the door from opening fully. Fearing the worst, one by one they drew near to the door as the rogue passed inside to encounter....an overturned chair. The rogue sighed with relief, until she noticed the blood.
The chair, fashioned from a hollowed out log, lay knocked over. Where it had fallen, blood had pooled precisely where one's head might have hit the floor. Only that and some tattered blue cloth spoke of the fate of the chair's most recent occupant. Across the table lay sprawled a chess board, the pieces knocked about haphazardly. A second chair had been pushed back, and mug lay smashed on the table, it's contents of mead still dripping onto the floor. A sparsely furnished room showed signs of a brief but violent struggle.
Pausing a moment to note the bed and shelving, the group spread out, investigating the kitchen and then the mud room. Certain that the shack was, in fact, unoccupied, they took to investigating in earnest. The fighter kept watch, every ready for trouble.
A small bed was nearby, ruffled from the laziness of it's owner, but otherwise there was no sign that anyone had been involved in searching the shack. Clearly, it's occupant or occupants had been the target. Under the bed, however, was a simple but nasty trap securing a small journal to the bottom of the bed. After a tricky affair of removing it, the bard began to scan through it's contents.
The sorceror noted the odd tchotckes scattered about the room, such as trinkets from the Iron Hills, badges from Veluna and Nyrond, and keepsakes from around the Flanaess. Not the sort of items a simple hermit would keep. The monk found some formal clothes in one of the drawers...rich velvet and fine tailoring. But it was the rogue who discovered that the fireplace in the kitchen held a false back, with some loose bricks covering a hidden keepspace. Within was found some items of magical make: a dagger, some potions, some scrolls and a letter of mark from the Keoish crown, along with another small journal in the same hand (but obviously older).
The party quickly absorbed the material and began to piece together the mystery with other information they already had. In rapid succession, they came to several conclusions:
"Old Tym" was once known as "Honeycombe Tym", and was actually an adventurer and spy in the service of the crown. He was well respected at court, and was often sent to infiltrate and gather information for the crown. Some 22 years ago, he had been sent to a remote village name Clifftowne to investigate reports that the local lord was not serving his vassalage or his village. He discovered a small town under siege by a tribe of goblin refugees from the Hateful Wars to the north. They had fled to greener pastures, and were raiding the village from the forest.
Tym also found something else in the village...a lady love. Determined to save the village, Tym convinced the only two locals who would help and were worth the effort, the druid Bulwark and a hedge wizard named Trimdall, to aid his cause. Together, they set out to deal with the renegade tribe. They discovered not only the goblins, but their powerful shaman and his ogre lackey.
A fierce battle ensued, with Bulwark incapicitated and Tym stunned. Trimdall had a chance to flee or fight...he chose to risk his life for the village and fight. His choice of spell led to his death at the ogre's hands...but by that point, the others had recovered, and slew the shaman and ogre both. Trimdall, however, had given his life to protect others...and Tym made sure they knew it.
In short order the local lord was deposed, the town renamed Trimdall in the wizard's honor and Tym resigned his commision with the crown, settling in the newly-rechristened village with Anni, his new wife. And things were good...for a while. A tower was built in his honor, and his twin sons were born and raised there. Tym occasionally maintained a relationship with the court, but for practical purposes had retired.
But Tym was loathe to part with his 'tools of the trade', such as they were, and kept them hidden from view. But ten years ago, his twin sons curiousity brought tragedy to the family. The brothers discovered Tym's cache of adventuring equipment, and one managed to activate a Necklace of Fireballs that Tym kept in case old enemies came to call. The resulting explosion badly wounded both boys, burning and scarring each horribly. Worse, their mother was killed in the explosion.
The boys bodies returned to health, except for the scarring, and each refused to have their scars removed. Their bitterness towards each other grew as each blamed the other for their mother's death and their own disfigurement. Within two years, both had run away from home, and Tym was unable to find them.
Eventually, the younger brother returned, after wandering for several years. He had found solace amongst the Silent Brotherhood, and had dedicated his life to the destruction of dangerous magical artifacts...his way of dealing with the pain of his mother's death. He vieled his face, to hide the horrible scarring from the accident. He would make occasional visits to their father, particularly when he heard new of his brother, who had also found a calling. But unlike his brother, he chose the way of anger and became an agent for the Scarlet Brotherhood, seeking to impose his will on others. While the younger brother sought to lock away or destroy dangerous magic, the older sought to dominate them and make his control of them absolute. Turned bitter by self-loathing, he lashed out at any who dared oppose him.
Their paths crossed more than once, but had recently crossed over an ancient Suel artifact known only as "The Kiss of Ralishaz". The last communication that they had shared indicated that the younger son had learned that an evil lord in the Paynims had acquired it, and he was going to try and secure it for the Silent Ones.
The party quickly realized that the strange blazing item in the sky was this strange artifact...but where was it? And where was Lord Overbrook, anyways?
The fighter then noticed tracks leading outside...snake tracks. Normally the earth and darkness would have made it difficult to follow them...but something had been moved from near the shack. Something big, heavy and flat. After finding tracks of a body being dragged to the object, they surmised that it was a cage, of some sort. They quickly gave chase.
The tracks led to a small dock on the village lake, towards an island where the wizard Trimdall had once had his tower, and where it's remains still lay. The snake tracks showed that a boat had been taken, the heavy object moved into it, and then walked (!) to the island. Several of the party could see odd lights on the island with a fiery red tint. Commandeering a boat of their own, they set out.
As soon as they struck land, they began preparations for battle. The bard and sorceror could hear foul incantaions in progress, from a hideous lisping voice. The power of chaos was in the air. They charged forth across the tiny isle.
What they saw confirmed their fears. An older man, clearly Old Tym, and the blue-robed stranger that they'd heard of lay unconscious and bound on the ground. A large cage of iron sat nearby, with a viscious-looking wolf contained within. It's eyes held a frightening intesity, and it looked apprehensive. It clearly had reason to. For nearby, driven into the ground at the center of a magic circle, stood the Kiss of Ralishaz itslef, aglow with chaotic power. It was then they had noticed the chanting had stopped.
From behind one of the great stone remanants of the tower, he rose. The older brother was no longer human, and as he rose on his snake body, the party could think of nothing else but a Yuan-ti Abomination. He wore scarlet-colored armor emblazoned with the arcane symbols, and bore a huge halberd of wicked make upon his back. One of his harms now resembled a set of tentacles, while the other was abnormally large, with claws that dripped of poison. He screamed a defiant challenge, swearing that the party would not interrupt the ceremony.
The cleric/fighter quickly realized the truth. Ralishaz, the Suel god known as "the Unsought One"...the staff was a holy relic of his followers. It was the personification of chaos and change. The spell the elder was casting would use it's power to change him back to normal....but he wasn't sure...so he was using Lord Overbrook as a test. If he could transform Overbrook back to human, then he would restore himself. Either way, he wanted his father and brother to watch, before he killed them both. It was clear his sanity was in question.
The party enjoined the fearsome foe, delivering punishment to him...but he was resistant to their spells, and well-armored. The party feared of surviving the battle. But the bard had read the journals of Old Tym well, and she knew something of how people think....and more importantly, how they feel. Sure her spells would be useless, and uncertain of her weapons, she used the talents she knew best.
As the warriors traded blow for blow, and death loomed near, she summoned a simple ghost sound spell.
"Ahmee???", came the pleading voice, using his mother's pet name for him. "It's Mommy. Why are you hurting people, Ahmee?"i
The Elder brother was stunned. "Mommy?", he called, uncertain what he had just heard. Was her ghost trying to speak to him? Was it the magic of the Kiss? Could he...restore her?
He was swept from his reveries by strikes from the heroes, as they renewed their attacks. Uncertain, he merely defended against their blows. He prepared to retailate, but then again, stronger this time, he heard the voice: "Ahmee, why are you hurting people? You're making Mommy sad...." His body shook from uncertainty, and he began openly weeping. The fighting priest of Heironeous cared little, and he and the gnomish sorceror intended to drive the abomination into the earth.
The younger brother, barely conscious, pleaded for this brother's life. The monk asked that the scarlet brother be brought to the King's justice, moments before the priest could deliver the killing blow. Which proved fortuitios, as slaying the elder would have sent the Kiss of Ralishaz flying for a new master to find it, much as it had weeks past, when the two brothers clashed over it, and killed the Paynim lord in the process.
By the next morning, everyone had been healed, and the village saved. Lord Overbrook's secret remained intact, and he rewarded the heroes as best he could, including the chickens.
Old Tym thanked the players for both his sons, and the younger brother saw him deliverd to Gradsul.Poor Ewan, the tax collector, scrambled together what little dignity he had, and took his guardians with him, helping to escort the caged elder brother back to justice...and to question his ability to read ledgers...forevermore.
And there you have it. My next project? To translate that into a module to submit to Dungoen magazine. I'd post the pictures and maps I drew for the module, but I've already subjected you folks to enough bandwidth wastage...and that stuff was drawn by me, not claudio pozas.
Thank for all the kind words, glad you all enjoyed it.
Valanthe the Sleepless
First Post
Darn lag gave me a double post! 
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Argent Silvermage
First Post
I'm not feeling the love.
I'm called evil. I'm not allowed to EVER play a Kender. and now this.
I almost think you people don't like me.....
All through this thread people have been blasting me.Valanthe the Sleepless said:Actually, it was me who took most of the people shots. And I humbly aplogize for any of the unflattering photos.
Except maybe the one of Argent being befuddled by the phone
*snicker*
I'm called evil. I'm not allowed to EVER play a Kender. and now this.
I almost think you people don't like me.....
WizarDru
Adventurer
Let me put it this way....there was a better picture of you...but not a funnier one.Argent said:All through this thread people have been blasting me.
I'm called evil. I'm not allowed to EVER play a Kender. and now this.
I almost think you people don't like me.....
Heck, Val's people shots were still better than mine...you should see the "Dru, put down the damn camera and take your MOVE, already" scowl-a-rama during our Dwarven Dig game.And, of course, are the 'wish I'd taken a shot' shots, like the D&D game, the Diceland game, better shots of the board game and CCG rooms, and so one.
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