S'mon said:
This sounds like it might work in theory but I've GM'd D&D for 20 years and I've never seen PCs single-handedly defeat a sizable army (10,000+).
Obviously you've not read Sepulchrave's Story Hour
http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=58227&page=1&pp=32
ONE DRUID
Originally posted by Sepulchrave II on 06-24-2002
Quote:
Any chance of this wonderful story being made available in a single downloadable format??
Eventually.
I will try and answer other questions that I've been ignoring ASAP.
**
Brey gazed skywards and observed the quickening clouds. They were moving at an unnatural speed and, seemingly, converging from all directions simultaneously. A huge thunderhead was forming directly above the camp.
The Druid, he thought, cursing. Apparently, the rumours that the Nature-Priest had no stomach for the fight were wrong.
The Templar ran towards Melion’s tent, barking orders as he moved. "Go to ground. Get everyone back from the waterfront."
Brey burst in to the command tent where Melion sat stiffly, his age apparent, unaccustomed to the armour that he was wearing for the first time in twenty years. The Inquisitor General was in conference with the Templar Lords Irian and Hembur, Rede’s deputies and ascendant stars in the new administration.
Melion growled. "Lord Brey, might I remind you that your probationary period is not yet over. A little more decorum would be appreciated."
"Nwm is here," Brey said simply.
Melion swallowed and, anticipating a firestorm, warded himself against the possible ill effects..
The Temple knights and soldiers looked up and saw the eagle descending upon them, and as it swooped, the clouds parted from the gale which issued from it. Many of the more ignorant cowered, thinking that Oronthon’s wrath had descended upon them. Rumbles of thunder echoed across the field, and lightning flickered across the cloudtops.
Melion shouted across the meadows. "It is a pagan trick – do not be dismayed. We are favoured!" His voice, thin and reedy although it was, carried conviction and confidence.
Nwm circled at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet, his pinioned form naked against the clouds except for a sprig of mistletoe which hung from one huge talon. He screeched a spell, and giant eagles appeared around him. They plummeted downwards.
Melion cursed. The Druid fully understood the use of appropriate symbolism and propaganda, it appeared. And he was currently out of range. The Inquisitor summoned four celestial griffons and dispatched them to intercept the eagles.
Nwm resumed his human form – a speck against the grey clouds. He began to drop rapidly, but was unperturbed. Many of the more quick-witted amongst those on the ground drew bows, and scores of quarrels and arrows were shot towards him, only to be deflected harmlessly away by the tornado-force winds which emanated from the Druid.
There. Melion. Nwm concentrated as the air rushed around him, and evoked the effects of a spell already cast. The sky crackled, and a single stroke of lightning, fed by the living storm and immensely potent, arced downwards and struck the Inquisitor, dropping him instantly.
As Templars crowded around Melion in an effort to revive him, lesser clerics began to cast spells at Nwm. He shook off the effects of three attempts to silence him, and no trace of concern crossed his face as a dozen celestial hawks and eagles, two celestial pegasi and several minor elementals began to manifest across the field. At a height of forty fathoms, feathery wings sprouted from the Druid’s back and he arrested his fall.
No pity, he thought to himself. I must show no pity.
Nwm began to fly upwards again, and invoked another spell. Vines sprang up, covering over an acre at the centre of the camp, in an area where the tents were most densely crowded. They wrapped around arms and legs, pinning many of those within a one-hundred yard circle, and impeding all of them in their efforts to move. Across the infested area, dozens of soldiers began to sicken and fall from the poison in the toxic vines.
The Druid looked downwards and observed that the celestial birds and elementals were closing on him slowly and beginning to converge. He smiled grimly – he knew that they could not penetrate the winds around him. He spoke a potent summoning, and the sky nearby began to move and distort: the vague outline of something huge and nebulous appeared next to him. It began to move towards the ground effortlessly and with great speed.
No mercy, he reminded himself.
The Druid drew his staff from across his back and clasped it tightly in his fist. He spoke a word of power, and continued his ascent. The orb on the staff crackled darkly as its ultimate power manifested.
Below the thunderhead, an area of blackness formed, shot through by purple lightning and moving with wisps of dark vapour. A huge shadow appeared above the camp, and peals of thunder broke out, deafening those below. On the ground, the elemental conjured by Nwm was ripping a swathe through those who tried to resist it. It had begun to spin on its axis, flinging tents on the periphery of the camp in all directions. It moved slowly, deliberately and systematically eliminating those who did not flee.
But the most brutal effects were yet to come. Nwm flew on, maintaining concentration upon the unnatural cloud, and acid began to rain down. The Druid glanced down to see Brey and two other Templar Lords standing impotently over the body of Melion. He didn’t know their names. He didn’t care. Irian perished, obliterated by three bolts of lightning which simultaneously struck him from above, Hembur almost died, struck by three more.
In the hail which followed, Lord Hembur did die. So did eight hundred others, many entangled in the poisoned vines, and unable to move.
As the minor elementals closed on him, Nwm swerved down to meet them. They, and then the celestial animals were blown out of the Druid’s path.
Nwm banked around and flew back towards the camp. He circled around the periphery, looking for those who might still be standing. Many were fleeing north and south, parallel to the river’s course, whilst others were routed to the west. A few brave souls dared the river itself. Still, the huge elemental moved unchecked through the camp.
No mercy, Nwm swallowed.
The Druid, from a safe height, blocked off the egress from the north of the field, where many were attempting to escape, with a vast cloud of swarming insects. Over a period of half a minute, in a four-hundred foot arc which spread west and then south, pockets of grasses and weeds sprang up, entangling many and causing others to flee in panic away from them, lest they were poisonous. Nwm began to descend, but before he could cast another spell, he was enveloped in silence. Swearing wordlessly, he began to climb again, reached a height of a thousand feet, and circled slowly, waiting for the spell to wear off. The Druid waited patiently – the clouds were already pregnant with energy again. Two minutes passed. Three. Four. Five.
Suddenly, the noise of the wind and storm flooded again into Nwm’s ears as the magical silence evaporated. He concentrated on his torc, seeking mentally for powerful spellcasters. Their whereabouts were determined in an instant. Two of significant ability.
Leading Templars were attempting to rally their knights and auxiliaries and order the retreat from the field. Nwm ignored them, his gaze shifting to a lone figure. A cleric in shining plate was performing a ritual desperately, beside of the wreck of a tent. Nwm spoke a word, and another streak of lightning flashed down, targeting the cleric. It dissipated harmlessly around him, and he continued to intone.
Warded, Nwm thought, and powerfully. The Druid ignored him and began to beat his way downwards.
Hundreds were fleeing southwards and westwards now, as all other ways were effectively blocked. Nwm intoned yet another spell as he closed, and a curtain of green fire, three hundred feet long, sprang up. Intense heat blistered skin and caused people to shy away again – most of those few foolish enough to try and pass through were immolated.
Chaos reigned upon the ground, and had they stopped to think amid their panic, the fleeing troops would have recognized that the Druid, with his spells, had created an immense funnel upon the ground, and that they were being herded into it.
Nwm flew down, and prepared to invoke a succession of flame strikes and flaming spheres, emptying his magical arsenal.
Abruptly, in the eye of calm air at the centre of his personal hurricane, Eadric and Mostin materialized. Mostin floated easily, and Eadric was supported by a pair of winged boots, borrowed from Ortwin.
The Paladin looked grim. "Please stop, Nwm. You’ve made your point."
**
Brey, now nominally in command of the whole force, was trying to establish a modicum of order. He cursed the Druid, and wondered again why he himself had not been killed. He glanced upwards, only to see three small figures flying east over the river.
**
Tramst was a devout man. A good man. As he knelt in his armour, his hands clasped to his chest and feverishly intoned, he knew that his prayers would be answered. Amid the wreck of the camp, he tightly gripped his eagle-and-sun, the symbol of his faith.
Oronthon heard his supplication, and answered. A light appeared, emanating from a deva armed with a flaming sword. Tramst bathed in it.
"What would you have of me?" The celestial inquired, "and I will appoint a task for you in return."
"That you invoke just retribution upon the Heretic and his pagan friend. That you punish them for their misdeeds, and slay them as they deserve."
The deva nodded. "If I do this, then here is your task in payment: you will willingly endure the torments of the lowest hell for eternity, secure in the knowledge that your perfect faith will sustain you, because you have never done an impure deed or thought an impure thought."
Tramst looked astounded.
"A different task, perhaps?" The deva asked.
DM Note:
The spells cast by Nwm that day were, in this order:
Wind Walk (in effect from previous day)
Big Sky (at the dolmens)
Summon Nature’s Ally IV (Xorn burial)
Control Weather
Greater Call Lightning
Control Winds (spherical emanation type)
Summon Nature’s Ally VI (5 giant eagles)
Master Air
Poison Vines
Summon Nature’s Ally VIII (Greater Air Elemental)
Storm of Vengeance (From the orb)
Insect Plague
Entangle (x5)
Wall of Fire
Nwm also had 3 flame strikes prepared which, unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to use. He was maxed out for offensive spells.
‘How could you have let that happen?’ You might ask. Aside from story considerations (it makes good drama, after all), it is not that improbable: consider 5000+ people and a thousand horses contained in a area a quarter mile wide and half a mile long with little or no means to defend themselves against sustained magical attack: when the panic begins, its going to get messy.
As you can imagine, running this was extremely difficult, and involved several arbitrary decisions about reactions – especially wrt. Melion’s use of his Protection from Elements: a fire ward did, in fact, seem reasonable given Nwm’s previous attack. Note that the ‘Greater Call Lightning’ bolt summoned by Nwm – 15d10 – was devastating to Melion, an old man with very poor constitution. He failed his save and suffered around 80 points of damage. He would have hit Nwm with a ‘Sunburst’ had he had the opportunity, the only long-range spell available to him.
I asked Dave what he would have done had he been blinded – he thought for a second and said "Wildshape to bat."
Clerical divine magic is all but useless at long range – take a look through the PHB. Druidic firepower is excellent at long range, however.
The total area affected by a "Storm of Vengeance" is around 10 acres – the entire camp was only 80 acres or so. As everyone in the storm takes 6d6 damage with no save (acid and hailstones), and it was evoked above the centre of the camp, your average 1st-3rd level warrior or cleric and 1st-2nd level fighter or paladin is going to die outright. 800 casualties seemed a little conservative, if anything.
And buggered if I was going to roll that many dice.
The Temple forces consisted of
1) 4000 auxilliaries (mainly War 1-2, with some War 3+)
2) Around 300 engineers, armourers, weaponsmiths etc. (mainly exp 1-3)
3) Nearly a thousand ‘camp followers,’ including hangers-on, drovers, merchants, food vendors, etc. etc. etc., mainly on the periphery. Mostly low-level commoners hoping to make a few $$ out of the dirty business of war.
4) 800 Templars split thusly:
500 fighters, 120 paladins and 80 clerics of levels 1-3,
60 "Specials" – mainly fighters and paladins of higher level, but including some PrC Templars and Warpriests, 4 x 5th level clerics, 1 x 11th, 1 x 9th level clerics and 1 16th level clerical spellcaster equivalent (Melion). I had only the higher level clerics’ spells prepared ahead of time.
40 Priests (Experts) – mostly support staff for the Temple and/or Inquisition
But Nwm can deliver just too many spells from a distance of 1000 feet.
My arbitrarily determined death total for the whole sordid episode was around a thousand – more than twenty percent of the army. In a pitched battle, this kind of loss would have been deemed utterly catastrophic.
Seriously though, IME a persons thoughts are way more complicated than what they can say about them in short order. What is the most important point that you have? Are you sure that you've made it? Are your statements coming from a thought or idea that hasn't been expressed? Those were the things I was unsure about myself.
