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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Nightbreeze
First Post
OOh, but at the some time 
Sigh...
So ends yet ANOTHER chance to get an actual arcane caster into one of these story hours. I know some people have issues with magic, but it really is getting ridiculous, LB.
What exactly is your beef with arcanists?
Three great story hours and not one arcanist who isn't a really terrible multi-class build or dies off right when they *start* to have a chance to shine. (Speaking purely in terms of mechanics; ANY character can be cool if RP'd -- or written -- correctly.)
The beef against good-aligned clerics isn't total -- there have been several divine casters of greater or lesser effectiveness -- but not one arcane caster has lasted more than a couple of sessions.
Any chance of some insight into this?
Not to mention the sheer stupidity -- for characters of this level -- to walk into a temple to ORCUS THE GOD OF DEATH AND THE UNDEAD without even a simple Death Ward running? Apparently, someone needs to trot out the quote from Spaceballs about evil always triumphing because good is unbelievably stupid. (Honestly, I take it back. If Zosimos and the cleric are dumb enough not to be death warded when they deliberately assaulted the temple -- with prep time, no less -- then they deserved to die.)
-------------------
A few grumpy complaints aside, I'm still going to be reading the story hour; I like your writing style. Just once, I'd like to see them win through good tactics and some actual preperation, though, rather than luck and the skin of their teeth.
So ends yet ANOTHER chance to get an actual arcane caster into one of these story hours. I know some people have issues with magic, but it really is getting ridiculous, LB.
What exactly is your beef with arcanists?
Three great story hours and not one arcanist who isn't a really terrible multi-class build or dies off right when they *start* to have a chance to shine. (Speaking purely in terms of mechanics; ANY character can be cool if RP'd -- or written -- correctly.)
The beef against good-aligned clerics isn't total -- there have been several divine casters of greater or lesser effectiveness -- but not one arcane caster has lasted more than a couple of sessions.
Any chance of some insight into this?
Not to mention the sheer stupidity -- for characters of this level -- to walk into a temple to ORCUS THE GOD OF DEATH AND THE UNDEAD without even a simple Death Ward running? Apparently, someone needs to trot out the quote from Spaceballs about evil always triumphing because good is unbelievably stupid. (Honestly, I take it back. If Zosimos and the cleric are dumb enough not to be death warded when they deliberately assaulted the temple -- with prep time, no less -- then they deserved to die.)
-------------------
A few grumpy complaints aside, I'm still going to be reading the story hour; I like your writing style. Just once, I'd like to see them win through good tactics and some actual preperation, though, rather than luck and the skin of their teeth.
Lazybones
Adventurer
I disagree with your first premise, that Death Ward is a "simple" spell.wolff96 said:
Zosimos cannot cast Death Ward, obviously. Valus could have, but he has 4 4th level spell slots (3 if you exclude the domain spell). Divine power is pretty much a given for a battle cleric like him, and he had orders from his sect to "report back" on what he found in RA (especially with Varo there), so sending was also required for plot reasons.
That leaves his restoration spell. From our 20/20 outside-of-the-story perspective, of course death ward would have been a better choice, maybe even the logical choice, for self-defense. He had Knowledge (religion) +12, so I agree he should have known what the priests of Orcus could do (although it's worth noting that almost none of the priests of the Father have actually faced a servant of Orcus in battle in over a hundred years). Maybe he was arrogant, or maybe he just made a stupid mistake that cost him his life.
As for why Varo wouldn't have cast the spell on his allies, I hope that's self-evident. If he did have the spell memorized, he would have cast it on those more critical to his plans (starting with himself).
As for arcanists, it just happens that there haven't been many in this story, and those that have been were non-core characters. Given the tone I have been setting in this story, the mortality rate among non-core characters is going to be high. Heck, I don't think I'm quite done killing off "core" characters, so don't be surprised if it happens.
Lazybones said:
True. Then again, he also has a ridiculously high intellect and *knows* that certain types of magic are difficult for him to resist. (Anything requiring a Fort Save, in OOG terms.) If his intellect is good enough to cast high level magic and the followers of Orcus keep throwing undead and other monstrosities at him, I'm disappointed in him for not arranging one ahead of time. Especially when you're there to try and rescue someone kidnapped as a sacrificial victim; people that use living sacrifices tend to throw around death magic.
If it's that important to report back, then get the wizard to help you scribe a couple of sending scrolls. Or if you don't trust the wizard... report the next day, have another priest create a scroll for you before you leave, or buy/make some kind of one-shot magic item. Same thing for restoration -- you DEFINITELY don't want that one memorized, since it will get drained out of your head by so many things. Things like undead and several of the spells that Death Ward would protect your character from.
It wasn't on his domain list, fine. He had a Divine Power to suit his idiom. Great. That still leaves two slots that a reasonable cleric would have filled with protection from what he expected to face. And maybe he was overconfident and just got himself killed that way. Maybe I just have an over-estimation of characters of these levels. Most likely, it is just a stylistic difference.
I tend to play in relatively low level games. If a character reaches tenth level, he's the exception to normality and I expect him to behave like a seasoned professional. He's looked death in the eye so many times, he's pretty much expected to be a paranoid S.O.B.
Yeah, I know, I'm reading too much into this and it was done for story reasons. They needed two more 'good souls' to trigger the temple or some such. It just bugged me to the point where I had to post.
I'll stop posting about it now and feel free to delete these posts. It just bugs me when high-level characters don't play to their strengths -- something which is rarely the case in your story hour.
You'll note that I didn't mention Varo. Him not buffing other party members is expected, based on past actions.
Considering that there are only three core characters by my count, that doesn't bode well for continuity. Or does Dar count because he has died already? And as a front line fighter, is most likely to die again?
Lazybones
Adventurer
Fair points, wolff. You are right in that the Church of the Father and the Guild of Sorcery do not trust each other; Zosimos and Valus cooperating to that degree was not likely. I would have indicated their mutual distrust more obviously, but it was overshadowed by the mutual hatred between Valus and Varo. Plus after the "friendly fire" incident Valus wasn't likely to cast any spell on Zosimos that didn't have "inflict..." before it.
There wasn't enough time to create magic items, obviously, due to the nature of the mission. I could have given Valus a pre-existing sending scroll from his own church, though, or for that matter a scroll of death ward. I did establish earlier that the Church had a number of scrolls lying about (when Varo got the greater restoration to cure the elf's insanity).
Of course, then I wouldn't have been able to kill off Valus.![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Heh, I blame it on you readers, you're all been much more bloodthirsty than I am since the days of Travels, and I think that's affected this story.
Another reason that may legitimately contribute to a bias against casters on my part is that they are harder to write. Your own posts provide evidence for why I've run into trouble with spellcasters in the past. An arcanist of high level has access to so many spells (especially a wizard, as opposed to a sorcerer or warlock), that it can take hours just to plot out a few encounter areas. Especially since there's only one of me and dozens of you all to second-guess my choices.
Plus it's much harder to surprise you and introduce unexpected twists when I post the character sheets in the Rogues' Gallery (thus several of you saw the dimension door coming a mile away when Z was hit by the dung monster). To a degree (and especially where I'm writing now), I've gone away from fixed spell lists; I just assume that Varo with his 23 Wisdom will have a pretty good intuition as to what spells he'll need that day. Especially because he has a lot of clues that the others (and the readers) do not have, through his familiarity with the Codex Thanara.
At least in today's post, you'll find that someone had the foresight to cast a death ward before the battle, wolff.
* * * * *
Chapter 100
VICTORY AND DEFEAT
Dar felt himself jerked back to full consciousness, and the full catalogue of pain that accompanied it. He looked up, but there was no one there; still, a moment later he felt the familiar hilt of Valor being pressed into his hand.
“You are needed,” Varo’s voice whispered to him. “Strike down the high priest!”
Gudmund, flush with exhultation at the defeat of a potent enemy, felt a series of slight pressures as a magical attack faltered against his spell resistance. Turning, he saw the source of the attack, an elf, crouched over the body of the wizard he had slain earlier. The elf was holding a wand, but the high priest’s gaze was drawn to the foe’s eyes, and something latent within them.
“You...” he said.
But before the priest could do anything to deal with the elf, he was distracted by a pair of warriors coming at him from the other flank. Both men looked barely a shade better than death themselves, but they clutched their swords menacingly, staring at him with hatred and determination glowing in their eyes. Behind them was the woman scout, already moving around to cut him off from behind.
Gudmund had burned through most of his more powerful blessings from the True God, but he still had enough power to quickly channel a mass inflict light wounds that blasted hard into the damaged bodies of his enemies. Both of the fighters fell to the ground, pushed once more past the point of exertion by their wounds. The woman was not seriously hurt, but her weakness was obvious in the way that she turned to one of the fallen men, abandoning her attack, and rushed to his aid once more.
Fools, the priest thought. An arrow shattered on his heavy armor, and he started to turn back to the elf, but a subtle shift in the radiance of the Sphere of Souls suddenly drew his attention back around. What he saw there caused his eyes to widen in alarm, and thoughts of the elf, the dying warriors, and the battle behind him faded as he charged back toward the Sphere.
The cascading swirl of raw chaotic energy had rolled over Varo like a wave as he had neared the floating crystal sphere. The cleric of Dagos had recognized the potency of the unholy auras present in this place at once, and had sensed that this object was the source. Now, as he drew near, he lifted his mace, intending to put an end to it, whatever the cost.
But as he prepared to strike, a dark shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw a horror out of nightmare staring down at him from across the Sphere.
It was a demon, but that word alone did not give adequate measure to what it was. The creature stood only nine feet tall, but it carried with it a presence that made the glabrezu seem a pathetic wretch. Bat wings sprawled from its back, and coarse black hair covered its body. But its flesh was pitted with decay, and its horned head was little more than a skull, with brightly glowing eyes of sinister ochre set deep within its cavernous depths. It radiated pure power, and as Varo recognized it for what it was, he knew his death was upon him.
Still, he wasn’t one to go down without a fight, so he lunged at the Sphere with his mace.
The demon moved surprisingly quickly, a huge claw closing around the device even as Varo struck. The cleric’s weapon glanced harmlessly off the demon’s skeletal fingers, and somehow Varo sensed that it seemed amused as it drew the glowing sphere close against its chest.
Then it vanished, taking the object with it.
With the demon’s disappearance, the confusing aura of shifting colors it had projected vanished, leaving the center of the room dark save for the faint glow of the companions’ everburning torches. Varo turned to see the enemy high priest facing him, a look of stricken fury on his face.
“You... you stole it from me... you stole the power that was to be mine!”
“It looks like that big demon was the one interested in stealing things,” the priest of Dagos replied, but Gudmund was already rushing forward, his hands extended. His heavy mace dangled forgotten at his side, but Varo already knew that this man did not need it.
Varo waited for him, and poured the energy of one of his few remaining higher-order spells into a powerful inflict wounds. But as he touched the enemy cleric, he sensed the ward that absorbed the negative energy of the spell.
“The True God protects me, fool,” the cleric snarled, smashing Varo across the face, hitting him with his own inflict critical wounds. Varo resisted the surge of destructive energy as best he could, but it still left him staggered.
Stumbling back against the altar, he saw that the cleric had taken a scroll out of a small pouch at his belt. “You have some strength, priest of the Deceiver, but your god will not protect you against the might of the True God.”
“The words of the Codex would suggest otherwise,” Varo said, spitting out blood.
“Liar! The Codex Thanara chronicles our inevitable triumph! The souls of your pathetic people will open the door to His coming!” The priest’s voice had becoming increasingly agitated, even mad, but Varo saw that he had unrolled the scroll, which no doubt held some particularly nasty spell that he had kept in reserve.
But before Gudmund could read the scroll and unleash his spell, he staggered as Malerase charged into him from behind. The elf thrust his slender rapier into the gap between two interlocking plates of the cleric’s armor, drawing back the blade with blood covering its tip. The cleric spun in a rage, and slapped his palm down over the elf’s forehead. Malerase fell back, blood gushing from his nose and mouth, and fell to the ground. The cleric took a step forward, perhaps to finish the foe, but Varo leapt at him, wrapping his arms around the cleric’s body from behind. He tried to drag the cleric down, but his adversary was far stronger.
“Pathetic,” he said, driving an elbow into Varo’s face. The blow forced Varo to loosen his grip slightly, allowing the evil cleric to reach down and grab him by the groin. The hold wasn’t painful, not through Varo’s layered garments and armor shirt, but it was enough of a contact for the evil priest to hit Varo with another inflict spell. This time, Varo could not resist the full force of the negative energy surge, and he found himself lying upon the altar, dazed.
The face of the high priest of Orcus appeared above his. “And now I send you to meet my master,” he said, lifting his mace high.
But instead of delivering the killing blow, the cleric’s body jerked roughly forward. He fell forward against the altar, nearly toppling onto Varo. He quickly recovered his balance and started to push himself back up, but in that moment Varo slid a bent metal rod into the cleric’s belt, his fingers brushing against a subtle protrusion at its center as he released it.
Gudmund heaved, but he remained stuck where he was, unable to get up. There was a loud clang as something hard struck him across the shoulders. Trapped off balance, he lifted the hand holding his scroll, but Varo grabbed onto it, keeping him from clearly reading the writing upon it.
“I can kill you with a single touch, wretch,” the cleric spat.
“Better do it quickly, then,” Varo said. “I think you’re about out of time.”
Gudmund lifted a hand to strike, but before he could unleash a final spell, a blow caught him solidly across the back of his head, cracking his skull open like a ripe melon, and splashing his brains across the altar—and Varo.
The battle was over.
There wasn't enough time to create magic items, obviously, due to the nature of the mission. I could have given Valus a pre-existing sending scroll from his own church, though, or for that matter a scroll of death ward. I did establish earlier that the Church had a number of scrolls lying about (when Varo got the greater restoration to cure the elf's insanity).
Of course, then I wouldn't have been able to kill off Valus.
Heh, I blame it on you readers, you're all been much more bloodthirsty than I am since the days of Travels, and I think that's affected this story.
Another reason that may legitimately contribute to a bias against casters on my part is that they are harder to write. Your own posts provide evidence for why I've run into trouble with spellcasters in the past. An arcanist of high level has access to so many spells (especially a wizard, as opposed to a sorcerer or warlock), that it can take hours just to plot out a few encounter areas. Especially since there's only one of me and dozens of you all to second-guess my choices.
Plus it's much harder to surprise you and introduce unexpected twists when I post the character sheets in the Rogues' Gallery (thus several of you saw the dimension door coming a mile away when Z was hit by the dung monster). To a degree (and especially where I'm writing now), I've gone away from fixed spell lists; I just assume that Varo with his 23 Wisdom will have a pretty good intuition as to what spells he'll need that day. Especially because he has a lot of clues that the others (and the readers) do not have, through his familiarity with the Codex Thanara. At least in today's post, you'll find that someone had the foresight to cast a death ward before the battle, wolff.
* * * * *
Chapter 100
VICTORY AND DEFEAT
Dar felt himself jerked back to full consciousness, and the full catalogue of pain that accompanied it. He looked up, but there was no one there; still, a moment later he felt the familiar hilt of Valor being pressed into his hand.
“You are needed,” Varo’s voice whispered to him. “Strike down the high priest!”
Gudmund, flush with exhultation at the defeat of a potent enemy, felt a series of slight pressures as a magical attack faltered against his spell resistance. Turning, he saw the source of the attack, an elf, crouched over the body of the wizard he had slain earlier. The elf was holding a wand, but the high priest’s gaze was drawn to the foe’s eyes, and something latent within them.
“You...” he said.
But before the priest could do anything to deal with the elf, he was distracted by a pair of warriors coming at him from the other flank. Both men looked barely a shade better than death themselves, but they clutched their swords menacingly, staring at him with hatred and determination glowing in their eyes. Behind them was the woman scout, already moving around to cut him off from behind.
Gudmund had burned through most of his more powerful blessings from the True God, but he still had enough power to quickly channel a mass inflict light wounds that blasted hard into the damaged bodies of his enemies. Both of the fighters fell to the ground, pushed once more past the point of exertion by their wounds. The woman was not seriously hurt, but her weakness was obvious in the way that she turned to one of the fallen men, abandoning her attack, and rushed to his aid once more.
Fools, the priest thought. An arrow shattered on his heavy armor, and he started to turn back to the elf, but a subtle shift in the radiance of the Sphere of Souls suddenly drew his attention back around. What he saw there caused his eyes to widen in alarm, and thoughts of the elf, the dying warriors, and the battle behind him faded as he charged back toward the Sphere.
The cascading swirl of raw chaotic energy had rolled over Varo like a wave as he had neared the floating crystal sphere. The cleric of Dagos had recognized the potency of the unholy auras present in this place at once, and had sensed that this object was the source. Now, as he drew near, he lifted his mace, intending to put an end to it, whatever the cost.
But as he prepared to strike, a dark shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw a horror out of nightmare staring down at him from across the Sphere.
It was a demon, but that word alone did not give adequate measure to what it was. The creature stood only nine feet tall, but it carried with it a presence that made the glabrezu seem a pathetic wretch. Bat wings sprawled from its back, and coarse black hair covered its body. But its flesh was pitted with decay, and its horned head was little more than a skull, with brightly glowing eyes of sinister ochre set deep within its cavernous depths. It radiated pure power, and as Varo recognized it for what it was, he knew his death was upon him.
Still, he wasn’t one to go down without a fight, so he lunged at the Sphere with his mace.
The demon moved surprisingly quickly, a huge claw closing around the device even as Varo struck. The cleric’s weapon glanced harmlessly off the demon’s skeletal fingers, and somehow Varo sensed that it seemed amused as it drew the glowing sphere close against its chest.
Then it vanished, taking the object with it.
With the demon’s disappearance, the confusing aura of shifting colors it had projected vanished, leaving the center of the room dark save for the faint glow of the companions’ everburning torches. Varo turned to see the enemy high priest facing him, a look of stricken fury on his face.
“You... you stole it from me... you stole the power that was to be mine!”
“It looks like that big demon was the one interested in stealing things,” the priest of Dagos replied, but Gudmund was already rushing forward, his hands extended. His heavy mace dangled forgotten at his side, but Varo already knew that this man did not need it.
Varo waited for him, and poured the energy of one of his few remaining higher-order spells into a powerful inflict wounds. But as he touched the enemy cleric, he sensed the ward that absorbed the negative energy of the spell.
“The True God protects me, fool,” the cleric snarled, smashing Varo across the face, hitting him with his own inflict critical wounds. Varo resisted the surge of destructive energy as best he could, but it still left him staggered.
Stumbling back against the altar, he saw that the cleric had taken a scroll out of a small pouch at his belt. “You have some strength, priest of the Deceiver, but your god will not protect you against the might of the True God.”
“The words of the Codex would suggest otherwise,” Varo said, spitting out blood.
“Liar! The Codex Thanara chronicles our inevitable triumph! The souls of your pathetic people will open the door to His coming!” The priest’s voice had becoming increasingly agitated, even mad, but Varo saw that he had unrolled the scroll, which no doubt held some particularly nasty spell that he had kept in reserve.
But before Gudmund could read the scroll and unleash his spell, he staggered as Malerase charged into him from behind. The elf thrust his slender rapier into the gap between two interlocking plates of the cleric’s armor, drawing back the blade with blood covering its tip. The cleric spun in a rage, and slapped his palm down over the elf’s forehead. Malerase fell back, blood gushing from his nose and mouth, and fell to the ground. The cleric took a step forward, perhaps to finish the foe, but Varo leapt at him, wrapping his arms around the cleric’s body from behind. He tried to drag the cleric down, but his adversary was far stronger.
“Pathetic,” he said, driving an elbow into Varo’s face. The blow forced Varo to loosen his grip slightly, allowing the evil cleric to reach down and grab him by the groin. The hold wasn’t painful, not through Varo’s layered garments and armor shirt, but it was enough of a contact for the evil priest to hit Varo with another inflict spell. This time, Varo could not resist the full force of the negative energy surge, and he found himself lying upon the altar, dazed.
The face of the high priest of Orcus appeared above his. “And now I send you to meet my master,” he said, lifting his mace high.
But instead of delivering the killing blow, the cleric’s body jerked roughly forward. He fell forward against the altar, nearly toppling onto Varo. He quickly recovered his balance and started to push himself back up, but in that moment Varo slid a bent metal rod into the cleric’s belt, his fingers brushing against a subtle protrusion at its center as he released it.
Gudmund heaved, but he remained stuck where he was, unable to get up. There was a loud clang as something hard struck him across the shoulders. Trapped off balance, he lifted the hand holding his scroll, but Varo grabbed onto it, keeping him from clearly reading the writing upon it.
“I can kill you with a single touch, wretch,” the cleric spat.
“Better do it quickly, then,” Varo said. “I think you’re about out of time.”
Gudmund lifted a hand to strike, but before he could unleash a final spell, a blow caught him solidly across the back of his head, cracking his skull open like a ripe melon, and splashing his brains across the altar—and Varo.
The battle was over.
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