Richard Rawen
First Post
Really, Really Good Stuff!
The Whiterock Castle Campaign- Nothing better than a good old sausage in you.
You're just saying that- it all needs several re-writes, although I must admit I miss Cestode and some of the other characters.
Thanks anyway.
Just out of interest have you read the Friday Knights, not claiming it's any better, just asking for an opinion.
Writing season about to begin, have six weeks off work starting this Saturday, although it'll inevitably turn into six weeks of home improvements, film festivals and on-line D&D; still as the long-haired fat man on the trike said, "two out of three ain't bad."
TTFN
Paul
Richard Rawen
First Post
So, actually I was in a hurry with "Really really etall"
What I wanted to say is:
If you were in a dark place, it was a very productive dark place, full of details and insights that made Fandango that much more of a character I will soon miss.
Self perceived need for "Rewrites" aside, you entertain, never underestimate the gift that you have.
As to the 4e story: I have not started it yet, though I will. My plate is a bit overflowing at this time. I dally a bit in LEW, am a rabid fan of LB and other than checking your work, I'm pretty ... well, Busy!
I look forward to checking it out when you are finished with your remaining posts for Whiterock, and I will make one last plea:
Could you bring the Goodman Gang to a "conclusion" please? Such a good run deserves a finish...
Thanks,
RR
What I wanted to say is:
If you were in a dark place, it was a very productive dark place, full of details and insights that made Fandango that much more of a character I will soon miss.
Self perceived need for "Rewrites" aside, you entertain, never underestimate the gift that you have.
As to the 4e story: I have not started it yet, though I will. My plate is a bit overflowing at this time. I dally a bit in LEW, am a rabid fan of LB and other than checking your work, I'm pretty ... well, Busy!
I look forward to checking it out when you are finished with your remaining posts for Whiterock, and I will make one last plea:
Could you bring the Goodman Gang to a "conclusion" please? Such a good run deserves a finish...
Thanks,
RR
Fandango, miss- wait till you read the next few installments, the players dump her in an instant as soon as someone rolls up a Thief they'd like to play- I write this stuff and the players (who generally don't read this stuff) well... play, they've little concern for my narrative, it's there narrative that bothers them.
What's LEW? Sorry, or maybe who's LEW?
I read LB of course, I'd be a fool not too. I wish I could do that, in the real world I write, well foolish stuff, with a little bit of heart (I like to think). I can't write action like LB, and the cliffhangers...
The Goodman Gang, bane of my existence (joking).
I have notes left for the following scenarios-
DCC#14 Pt. The Defiled Sanctuary
DCC#29 The Golden Auroch (actually same players using the alternative characters we used earlier in the run- did I post that story? Who knows.)
DCC#28 Into the Wilds, which was perhaps my favourite (no, second favourite) adventure to DM for the Gang.
&
DCC#17 Legacy of the Dragon Kings, which was my favourite, if I remember rightly there's a compound full of Kobolds and much nastier stuff, the Gang ended up in a rolling fight that encompassed the whole of the stockade. If I remember right it also involved a Fireball attack that in game did for 20+ bad guys including one of the real big bad guys. The Gang really went to town. Later they took a severe beating by a bunch of mummies, anyway...
I can't write up any of these, even if I wanted to, time is not on my side, my Mrs. is already compiling lists for when I start my six weeks off work (this weekend).
If you want a finale then that's going to take me a while (and quite a few installments to get to).
The next turn sees them buy a house- 112 Cabbage Street, arguments about Buffy Mist or Misty Buff; Cas finally succumbs to temptation, oh sod it. I'll post a portion of the next/last turn. Go to the Goodman Gang- will that do, please say yes.
After this Newt goes a little tonto and tells the Thieves Guild where to find the tower with the Djinni in it on the understanding that while the guild gets everything else he gets to keep the spellbooks, which he later gives to Anya.
The pair form an unhealthy bond, which gets worse over time- especially when... I'm not writing any more of this, I'm just not, because if I carry on then I'll just end up carrying on. If you see what I mean.
Cheers Paul
Turn 23. “We mean you no harm.”
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
“We’ll come back for the golden door panels.” Cestode notes.
A well kept, but ancient passage, leads off, turns sharply after fifteen or so feet and heads south- Cestode leads the way.
“We’re getting to the end, I can feel it in my bones.”
“You’d like to feel his bones”, Gina whispers and smirks at Twiglet.
Twiglet grins, unsure now- getting to know the real Cestode is not going exactly to plan.
The passage continues a good way before ending in another set of fairly impressive looking doors, although sans golden panels. A few moments later Fandango declares them safe and Grungarak pushes his way in to the next chamber.
“Wow.” Twiglet declares.
The floor of the large octagonal room is marked with deep, spiraling runes. Eight tall crystals are set around the circumference of the room, glowing with a soft blue light- spooky.
Gingerly the adventurers pad into the chamber, spread out to take a look around- there are no obvious exits.
“Look”, Gina’s staring at one of the blue crystal light, depicted within is a wintery scene, ice-capped mountains scratch the sky and dotted in the foothills are a number of Gnomeholds, Gnomish settlements. Gina grins, it’s a bit like home. Deep down she knows she’s getting close- the Distant Device in her pocket feels somehow heavier.
Suddenly the entire room lurches, the adventurers totter but remain on their feet.
“What was…” Cestode starts and grips his axe.
The entire room descends.
Slowly.
“Is it a trap?” Gina calls looking first at Twiglet then at Fandango.
“I…” the Half-Elf starts.
“No, it’s an elevator.” Twiglet declares, “we have them in the mines, not this big though.”
The elevator descends, very slowly, it makes a scratching noise as it does- like it’s rubbing against the sides of the shaft.
“Good Dwarven craftsmanship.” Cestode states.
“Look… You don’t know that.” Gina gets tetchy.
Cestode looks confused, “well what other race is capable of such feats of engineering?”
“What about Gnomes?”
“Huh. Gnomes with money maybe.”
“What do you mean Gnomes with money?”
“Money enough to afford Dwarven craftsmen.” Cestode looks like he’s won that battle.
Gina sighs, a different result in mind.
SCREEEEEEEEE
The noise builds as the platform descends; soon it’s a piercing shriek, it seems to be troubling the adventurers, Gina winces and covers her ears, Fandango goes white- swallows hard, Twiglet however is much worse- the Dwarf scurries over to a wall slumps against it and gibbers.
“Dad, dad, dad, DAD”, he mumbles and at odd intervals shouts.
Cestode lays a calming hand upon his shoulder, and sings.
“Moradin, superstar- wears lots of armour and smokes a fat cigar…”
The effect is instant, Gina giggles- the Paladin of Moradin’s booming off-key tones are more than a match for the screeching platform. It catches on- Fandango smirks, Grungarak does his best to hide his smile, the fear effect is broken for all of them, all of them except Twiglet, who repeats his mantra and huddles on the floor, quivering uncontrollably.
CLUNG
They’ve arrived, a set of double-doors are revealed on the eastern wall, double doors, as above, they swing open and standing silhouetted in the light are half-a-dozen of the misshapen and mutated Gnomes.
“Wait.” Gina shouts, “we mean you no harm”, she states in Gnomish, and holds up her hands for good measure- they’re empty.
One of the tentacled monstrosities looks back for reassurance, they exchange glances- no words are spoken, then, as one; they launch a volley of tiny barbed javelins into the midst of the adventurers.
Midst is about right, not a single one of the javelins strikes home.
The strange Gnomes shuffle forward on their crooked limbs, drawing hook-shaped swords as they approach.
“Negotiations over.” Cestode declares and decapitates the first of the little terrors to arrive.
It’s very one-sided and a little less than thirty seconds later all of the creatures are dead, hacked to pieces some of them, as for the good guys Grungarak has a very minor wound on his left arm.
Twiglet looks up- “what happened.”
“Reception committee.” Cestode fills in the gaps.
Twiglet levers himself upright and takes a look around, beyond the doors they can see another chamber, there are lights in there, it looks like more of the glowing fungi, and a flickering fire.
They head in.
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
“We’ll come back for the golden door panels.” Cestode notes.
A well kept, but ancient passage, leads off, turns sharply after fifteen or so feet and heads south- Cestode leads the way.
“We’re getting to the end, I can feel it in my bones.”
“You’d like to feel his bones”, Gina whispers and smirks at Twiglet.
Twiglet grins, unsure now- getting to know the real Cestode is not going exactly to plan.
The passage continues a good way before ending in another set of fairly impressive looking doors, although sans golden panels. A few moments later Fandango declares them safe and Grungarak pushes his way in to the next chamber.
“Wow.” Twiglet declares.
The floor of the large octagonal room is marked with deep, spiraling runes. Eight tall crystals are set around the circumference of the room, glowing with a soft blue light- spooky.
Gingerly the adventurers pad into the chamber, spread out to take a look around- there are no obvious exits.
“Look”, Gina’s staring at one of the blue crystal light, depicted within is a wintery scene, ice-capped mountains scratch the sky and dotted in the foothills are a number of Gnomeholds, Gnomish settlements. Gina grins, it’s a bit like home. Deep down she knows she’s getting close- the Distant Device in her pocket feels somehow heavier.
Suddenly the entire room lurches, the adventurers totter but remain on their feet.
“What was…” Cestode starts and grips his axe.
The entire room descends.
Slowly.
“Is it a trap?” Gina calls looking first at Twiglet then at Fandango.
“I…” the Half-Elf starts.
“No, it’s an elevator.” Twiglet declares, “we have them in the mines, not this big though.”
The elevator descends, very slowly, it makes a scratching noise as it does- like it’s rubbing against the sides of the shaft.
“Good Dwarven craftsmanship.” Cestode states.
“Look… You don’t know that.” Gina gets tetchy.
Cestode looks confused, “well what other race is capable of such feats of engineering?”
“What about Gnomes?”
“Huh. Gnomes with money maybe.”
“What do you mean Gnomes with money?”
“Money enough to afford Dwarven craftsmen.” Cestode looks like he’s won that battle.
Gina sighs, a different result in mind.
SCREEEEEEEEE
The noise builds as the platform descends; soon it’s a piercing shriek, it seems to be troubling the adventurers, Gina winces and covers her ears, Fandango goes white- swallows hard, Twiglet however is much worse- the Dwarf scurries over to a wall slumps against it and gibbers.
“Dad, dad, dad, DAD”, he mumbles and at odd intervals shouts.
Cestode lays a calming hand upon his shoulder, and sings.
“Moradin, superstar- wears lots of armour and smokes a fat cigar…”
The effect is instant, Gina giggles- the Paladin of Moradin’s booming off-key tones are more than a match for the screeching platform. It catches on- Fandango smirks, Grungarak does his best to hide his smile, the fear effect is broken for all of them, all of them except Twiglet, who repeats his mantra and huddles on the floor, quivering uncontrollably.
CLUNG
They’ve arrived, a set of double-doors are revealed on the eastern wall, double doors, as above, they swing open and standing silhouetted in the light are half-a-dozen of the misshapen and mutated Gnomes.
“Wait.” Gina shouts, “we mean you no harm”, she states in Gnomish, and holds up her hands for good measure- they’re empty.
One of the tentacled monstrosities looks back for reassurance, they exchange glances- no words are spoken, then, as one; they launch a volley of tiny barbed javelins into the midst of the adventurers.
Midst is about right, not a single one of the javelins strikes home.
The strange Gnomes shuffle forward on their crooked limbs, drawing hook-shaped swords as they approach.
“Negotiations over.” Cestode declares and decapitates the first of the little terrors to arrive.
It’s very one-sided and a little less than thirty seconds later all of the creatures are dead, hacked to pieces some of them, as for the good guys Grungarak has a very minor wound on his left arm.
Twiglet looks up- “what happened.”
“Reception committee.” Cestode fills in the gaps.
Twiglet levers himself upright and takes a look around, beyond the doors they can see another chamber, there are lights in there, it looks like more of the glowing fungi, and a flickering fire.
They head in.
Turn 24. “It’s nearly thirty feet straight down.”
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
The chamber ahead has a strange gloom, giving the walls and floor a feint violet tint. Harvested mushrooms litter the floor, more examples of the glowing fungi grow all around the chamber, the air is thick with the smell of smoke, a small fire spits and burns in one corner.
The floor is soft underfoot, the mutated Gnomes seem unable to distinguish between the lavatory and the living room, the floor's sticky, and stinky.
“Urgghh. People live in this.” Twiglet is offended.
“Gnomes.” Cestdoe mutters.
And gets a look that could melt stone from Gina, Cestode notices.
“What- you saw them, they were Gnomes.” The Paladin of Moradin shrugs, certainty does that to a Dwarf.
“Search.” Grungarak states.
“Do we have too?” Twiglet asks.
Gina and Fandango have already started.
Five minutes later they’ve collected a bunch of stuff, some coins, a few semi-precious stones and a hollow bone which turns out to have a scroll inside it- divine spells, including one very powerful healing spell. Gina shoves the find away for later use.
They head on, but only a little way as the passage suddenly opens out into a much larger cavern, actually the much larger cavern is the one they encountered earlier, they’re at the bottom- nearly.
Cestode and Gina peer over the edge of the platform, through the murky darkness, they can make out a small island in the centre of a lake. Amid tall, pale mushrooms and quick, darting creatures, more of the suckered Gnomes, stands an enormous dark crystal, rising 12 feet out of the centre of the isle. The crystal radiates a pale, violet light that seems to pulse and throb inside their skulls.
Past the island, a raging waterfall spills down into the lake, misting the cavern and its occupants with droplets of freezing water, and casting an eerie rainbow over the darkened chamber.
They seem to have arrived in the middle of some sort of ceremony, on the isle a revered hooded figure stalks around the crystal. A pair of the tentacled Gnomes shuffle towards the figure- dragging with them a young child, kicking and screaming all the way- trying desperately to be free.
The hooded figure grabs the struggling child, no doubt one of Farmer Palmer’s brood, and reveals in its other malformed hand a dagger seemingly made of the same stuff as the crystal.
“STOP.” Cestode shouts, “cease this abomination, Moradin demands that you let free the child, and any others that you hold- this is madness, free them- free them now or Moradin’s wrath will know no bounds.”
The robed mutant Gnome clicks and whirrs, some sort of language, at his strange companions, who reach for javelins, ready to launch the weapons at the adventurers.
“I said…” Cestode starts again.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrghhhh.”
The last words, rather word of forlorn Pete, the child is dead, from one of the stands of Fungi on the isle more screams are heard, clearly the other kids are down there and have just witnessed the death of their elder brother.
Time for action.
“Moradin defies you, you scoundrels…”
I said action.
It’s nearly thirty feet straight down to the island.
Grungarak jumps, just after Twiglet- the Paladin of Moradin stays rooted to the spot, Gina has her crossbow at the ready, she fires, wounds one of the mutant Gnomes below. Fandango quickly draws her bow and lets loose an arrow- it tears a hole in the robes of the architect of the foul ceremony
CRUNCH
The Half-Orc and the Dwarf land hard, Twiglet hardest of all, his ankle shatters, a bone pokes out through his shin. Grangarak has more spring in his step, or else picks a softer spot, he’s barely injured in the half-leap half-fall.
The robed mutant Gnome points a suckered hand and delivers a series of whirrs and clicks, suddenly the brave adventurers feel weary- magic is at work.
Grungarak stumbles and then regains his feet, rushes forward to put himself between the children and the scurrying mutant Gnomes, two of the creatures bare down upon him, actually bare down may be a misnomer what with the Half-Orc measuring six feet eight and the Gnomes topping the measure at a little over three feet six.
Twiglet is less bothered by the Sleep spell, blinks twice and it’s gone, the problem is he has a limited theatre of operations, what with him having to drag one leg behind, he doesn’t get far- fortunately the enemy find him.
“You scurrilous fiend, a child’s life, all life is sacred, particularly when taken to fuel your dark arts, Moradin will smite you…” Cestode rambles on.
Gina and Fandango fire again, they instantly evens the odds on Grungarak the already wounded tentacled Gnome takes a crossbow bolt to the face and an arrow in the gut, ending its days instantly.
The robed Gnome stands before the giant crystal incants again and is bathed in a bluish light- some sort of protection spell.
Twiglet cuts the creature attacking him near in two, Grungarak removes an arm from the one facing him- the tentacled Gnome flees, holding fast to his stump and flops into the brackish water which surrounds the isle.
Just the robed figure left.
“Get them mighty warriors of Moradin, lay low the foe…” Cestode maintains his vigil, doing nothing of use; he doesn’t even have a missile weapon.
Grungarak rushes on, just in time as the robed figure draws its crystal shard dagger and stabs at the Half-Orc, he dodges aside at the last moment and brings his greataxe around, the blade bites deep into the back of both of the mutant Gnomes legs. The creature falls forward and sprawls on the earth, leaving the lower reaches of its legs, and its feet of course, behind.
It’s dead in seconds, blood spurts from the severed stumps, a brief St. Vitus dance and it’s all over.
There’s a rumbling noise, the sound builds, and builds…
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
The chamber ahead has a strange gloom, giving the walls and floor a feint violet tint. Harvested mushrooms litter the floor, more examples of the glowing fungi grow all around the chamber, the air is thick with the smell of smoke, a small fire spits and burns in one corner.
The floor is soft underfoot, the mutated Gnomes seem unable to distinguish between the lavatory and the living room, the floor's sticky, and stinky.
“Urgghh. People live in this.” Twiglet is offended.
“Gnomes.” Cestdoe mutters.
And gets a look that could melt stone from Gina, Cestode notices.
“What- you saw them, they were Gnomes.” The Paladin of Moradin shrugs, certainty does that to a Dwarf.
“Search.” Grungarak states.
“Do we have too?” Twiglet asks.
Gina and Fandango have already started.
Five minutes later they’ve collected a bunch of stuff, some coins, a few semi-precious stones and a hollow bone which turns out to have a scroll inside it- divine spells, including one very powerful healing spell. Gina shoves the find away for later use.
They head on, but only a little way as the passage suddenly opens out into a much larger cavern, actually the much larger cavern is the one they encountered earlier, they’re at the bottom- nearly.
Cestode and Gina peer over the edge of the platform, through the murky darkness, they can make out a small island in the centre of a lake. Amid tall, pale mushrooms and quick, darting creatures, more of the suckered Gnomes, stands an enormous dark crystal, rising 12 feet out of the centre of the isle. The crystal radiates a pale, violet light that seems to pulse and throb inside their skulls.
Past the island, a raging waterfall spills down into the lake, misting the cavern and its occupants with droplets of freezing water, and casting an eerie rainbow over the darkened chamber.
They seem to have arrived in the middle of some sort of ceremony, on the isle a revered hooded figure stalks around the crystal. A pair of the tentacled Gnomes shuffle towards the figure- dragging with them a young child, kicking and screaming all the way- trying desperately to be free.
The hooded figure grabs the struggling child, no doubt one of Farmer Palmer’s brood, and reveals in its other malformed hand a dagger seemingly made of the same stuff as the crystal.
“STOP.” Cestode shouts, “cease this abomination, Moradin demands that you let free the child, and any others that you hold- this is madness, free them- free them now or Moradin’s wrath will know no bounds.”
The robed mutant Gnome clicks and whirrs, some sort of language, at his strange companions, who reach for javelins, ready to launch the weapons at the adventurers.
“I said…” Cestode starts again.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrghhhh.”
The last words, rather word of forlorn Pete, the child is dead, from one of the stands of Fungi on the isle more screams are heard, clearly the other kids are down there and have just witnessed the death of their elder brother.
Time for action.
“Moradin defies you, you scoundrels…”
I said action.
It’s nearly thirty feet straight down to the island.
Grungarak jumps, just after Twiglet- the Paladin of Moradin stays rooted to the spot, Gina has her crossbow at the ready, she fires, wounds one of the mutant Gnomes below. Fandango quickly draws her bow and lets loose an arrow- it tears a hole in the robes of the architect of the foul ceremony
CRUNCH
The Half-Orc and the Dwarf land hard, Twiglet hardest of all, his ankle shatters, a bone pokes out through his shin. Grangarak has more spring in his step, or else picks a softer spot, he’s barely injured in the half-leap half-fall.
The robed mutant Gnome points a suckered hand and delivers a series of whirrs and clicks, suddenly the brave adventurers feel weary- magic is at work.
Grungarak stumbles and then regains his feet, rushes forward to put himself between the children and the scurrying mutant Gnomes, two of the creatures bare down upon him, actually bare down may be a misnomer what with the Half-Orc measuring six feet eight and the Gnomes topping the measure at a little over three feet six.
Twiglet is less bothered by the Sleep spell, blinks twice and it’s gone, the problem is he has a limited theatre of operations, what with him having to drag one leg behind, he doesn’t get far- fortunately the enemy find him.
“You scurrilous fiend, a child’s life, all life is sacred, particularly when taken to fuel your dark arts, Moradin will smite you…” Cestode rambles on.
Gina and Fandango fire again, they instantly evens the odds on Grungarak the already wounded tentacled Gnome takes a crossbow bolt to the face and an arrow in the gut, ending its days instantly.
The robed Gnome stands before the giant crystal incants again and is bathed in a bluish light- some sort of protection spell.
Twiglet cuts the creature attacking him near in two, Grungarak removes an arm from the one facing him- the tentacled Gnome flees, holding fast to his stump and flops into the brackish water which surrounds the isle.
Just the robed figure left.
“Get them mighty warriors of Moradin, lay low the foe…” Cestode maintains his vigil, doing nothing of use; he doesn’t even have a missile weapon.
Grungarak rushes on, just in time as the robed figure draws its crystal shard dagger and stabs at the Half-Orc, he dodges aside at the last moment and brings his greataxe around, the blade bites deep into the back of both of the mutant Gnomes legs. The creature falls forward and sprawls on the earth, leaving the lower reaches of its legs, and its feet of course, behind.
It’s dead in seconds, blood spurts from the severed stumps, a brief St. Vitus dance and it’s all over.
There’s a rumbling noise, the sound builds, and builds…
Richard Rawen
First Post
Gah! Don't you just hate it when your main bad guy turns out to be a one-hit-wonder? Especially without inflicting ANY damage?
Way too common a plight I fear
Good stuff though!
Way too common a plight I fear
Good stuff though!
Gah! Don't you just hate it when your main bad guy turns out to be a one-hit-wonder? Especially without inflicting ANY damage?
Way too common a plight I fear
Good stuff though!
In truth I think the robed feller took a couple of hits from the artillery, he had approx 30 HP, minus approx 10 from the artillery, then crit.
The problem is of course neatly solved in 4E, save Minions everything sticks around for a round or two- obviously that brings its own problems.
However from a DM experience I much prefer 4e in this circumstance, it's difficult, nay impossible, to ignore a crit which does approx 30 damage when you're playing at low level- the bad guy dies with one slice.
I'm actually just writing up some sessions from my 4e game, see my sig, and looking at the maps (in maptool) that we used. I note that the Beggar King, the big bad guy (or one of) in the scenario has 124 HP, and this is a first level scenario- that guarantees a stand-up knock-down fight.
There's also a Solo creature in the scenario with 192 HP, I'm not saying bigger is better, but as regards then end of level bad guy fight at lower level- it stops the one-hit victories. Everybody gets a chance to wail on the big-bad; and with Healing Surges. Oh I know what it lacks but it solves, for me, some of the issues I had with 3.x.
Do you know in over 25 years of playing, 22 solely as a DM, I've never gamed with PCs over 14th level, possibly over 10th only a dozen or so times- the fear of the numbers, and the inumerable effects et al of the monsters- gah. Mind melt. 4e I can't wait to try out at level 10+, no fear of the pages of stats and options.
Oh it's dumber alright, but so am I, so am I.
Cheers Paul
Thanks as ever for reading.
Turn 25. “We?”
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
CRASH
The far wall explodes, the opening out of which the waterfall flows is suddenly wrenched apart as chunks of stone tumble into the lake below. Water canons out of the ragged hole left in the cavern wall. The water rises- quickly, as the cavern begins to fill.
Grungarak is at the kids, there are still three of them left, who else is missing a child, hang on, the third, and smallest figure is a female Halfling- no matter, he cuts their bonds.
“Quick”, Gina screams down, “you need to get out.”
Twiglet looks around, the isle, the crystal, the dead Gnomes, the kids, and lots of huge mushrooms, “HOW?”
“The Mushrooms, The Mushrooms- use the caps.” Cestode screams down.
Less than a minute later and with the water rising fast, the two kids, the Halfling and Twiglet are nestled in the upturned cap of a huge mushroom- bobbing atop the swirling water- Grungarak swims alongside the makeshift boat.
“Who are you?” Twiglet asks.
“Hibberd… Hibberd… Thank you.” The Halfling stutters, pale and still in shock.
The water rises, soon enough it begins to lap over the edge of the ledge on which the other adventurers stand- and the lift's not working again, Fandango rushes back to the chamber, nothing happens.
Which forces all of them into mushroom cap boats, luckily Grungarak has cut free half-a-dozen of the things, it takes a while but soon enough everyone is aboard.
And safe.
Apart from forlorn Pete of course, who’s body is still down there.
The cavern continues to fill for some time, hours, eventually stops when it has passed the next level- submerging the golden portals, and half-way up to the very first level of the cavern system.
Fandango and Grungarak find a way up eventually after a few false starts and soon after haul the rest of the crew up safely.
They’re back in Cillamar by the end of the day.
To a heroes welcome of sorts, poor forlorn Pete, there tale is told and Farmer Palmer wracked with tears acknowledges at least that they have saved the lives of his two remaining children.
There’s not much of a celebration, but the intrepid adventurers are welcomed back in the Drake, rooms are prepared- free of charge, a reward is collected, all manner of locals take the time to visit the Inn to add to the collection. Grungarak, Cestode, Gina and Twiglet eat a warm meal, at last out of the cold and the water, buoyed, only slightly, by nods, and pats and warm words of thanks- most often whispered.
It could have been worse, much worse.
“If there’s anything, anything I can do… I can’t thank you enough- you saved…” Hibberd trails off.
“How did you end up there?” Gina asks.
“I decided to try adventuring.”
“On your own?”
The Halfling shrugs, “I thought they needed help- the kids, I went to see if I could rescue them.”
“And ended up caught yourself.” Cestode cuts to the chase.
“What sort of adventurer are you?” Gina asks.
“Well I trained in Magic, back home, but since I’ve been in Cillamar, well… I had no money you see, so I’ve been… taking things.” Hibberd confesses.
Cestode spins round to stare at the urchin Halfling, “a common thief- we rescued a common thief, should have been you. I said it should have been you- not the kid.”
Hibberd looks tearful.
“You know what you need…” Cestode menaces.
“Some friends.” Twiglet finishes, “we could use your skills.”
“What? Twiggy?”
“Don’t bloody Twiggy me you mean sod- she’s one of us now, if she wants to be.” Twiglet snaps at Cestode.
“Yes. I mean… yes, if that’s…” Hibberd grins, hopeful.
“Welcome aboard.” Gina reaches out to shake the Halfling’s hand- grins all round, well nearly.
Cestode fumes.
“We?” Grungarak isn’t finished with him however.
“What?”
“You said ‘we’. ‘We rescued a common thief’, what did you do?” Which is the Half-Orc’s longest sentence to date.
“I…” Cestode decides to leave it there, gets up and stomps off to the bar.
“Where are you going?” Gina asks.
“To sack Fandango, we don’t need her anymore.”
“Sorry about him he’s…” Gina apologises.
“A misery guts.” Twiglet finishes.
They drink, eat, sleep and keep away from harm for a few more days at the Inn, treasures are identified and distributed, they re-equip, tell tall tales for the locals and generally manage to stay on best behaviour, even Cestode calms down and gets on with being a hero.
Except for Gina, who alone in her room kicks the Distant Device, the useless lump of shaped rock that her Uncle gave to her- it does nothing, did nothing- it’s a waste of time and the stories he told her are all lies. Which makes her think- why is she here? What good can she do?
Back in the cavern the water around the strange looking crystal boils.
Cestode garners enough XP to become a level 2 Paladin of Moradin, and here endeth the fourth actual session of play.
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
CRASH
The far wall explodes, the opening out of which the waterfall flows is suddenly wrenched apart as chunks of stone tumble into the lake below. Water canons out of the ragged hole left in the cavern wall. The water rises- quickly, as the cavern begins to fill.
Grungarak is at the kids, there are still three of them left, who else is missing a child, hang on, the third, and smallest figure is a female Halfling- no matter, he cuts their bonds.
“Quick”, Gina screams down, “you need to get out.”
Twiglet looks around, the isle, the crystal, the dead Gnomes, the kids, and lots of huge mushrooms, “HOW?”
“The Mushrooms, The Mushrooms- use the caps.” Cestode screams down.
Less than a minute later and with the water rising fast, the two kids, the Halfling and Twiglet are nestled in the upturned cap of a huge mushroom- bobbing atop the swirling water- Grungarak swims alongside the makeshift boat.
“Who are you?” Twiglet asks.
“Hibberd… Hibberd… Thank you.” The Halfling stutters, pale and still in shock.
The water rises, soon enough it begins to lap over the edge of the ledge on which the other adventurers stand- and the lift's not working again, Fandango rushes back to the chamber, nothing happens.
Which forces all of them into mushroom cap boats, luckily Grungarak has cut free half-a-dozen of the things, it takes a while but soon enough everyone is aboard.
And safe.
Apart from forlorn Pete of course, who’s body is still down there.
The cavern continues to fill for some time, hours, eventually stops when it has passed the next level- submerging the golden portals, and half-way up to the very first level of the cavern system.
Fandango and Grungarak find a way up eventually after a few false starts and soon after haul the rest of the crew up safely.
They’re back in Cillamar by the end of the day.
To a heroes welcome of sorts, poor forlorn Pete, there tale is told and Farmer Palmer wracked with tears acknowledges at least that they have saved the lives of his two remaining children.
There’s not much of a celebration, but the intrepid adventurers are welcomed back in the Drake, rooms are prepared- free of charge, a reward is collected, all manner of locals take the time to visit the Inn to add to the collection. Grungarak, Cestode, Gina and Twiglet eat a warm meal, at last out of the cold and the water, buoyed, only slightly, by nods, and pats and warm words of thanks- most often whispered.
It could have been worse, much worse.
“If there’s anything, anything I can do… I can’t thank you enough- you saved…” Hibberd trails off.
“How did you end up there?” Gina asks.
“I decided to try adventuring.”
“On your own?”
The Halfling shrugs, “I thought they needed help- the kids, I went to see if I could rescue them.”
“And ended up caught yourself.” Cestode cuts to the chase.
“What sort of adventurer are you?” Gina asks.
“Well I trained in Magic, back home, but since I’ve been in Cillamar, well… I had no money you see, so I’ve been… taking things.” Hibberd confesses.
Cestode spins round to stare at the urchin Halfling, “a common thief- we rescued a common thief, should have been you. I said it should have been you- not the kid.”
Hibberd looks tearful.
“You know what you need…” Cestode menaces.
“Some friends.” Twiglet finishes, “we could use your skills.”
“What? Twiggy?”
“Don’t bloody Twiggy me you mean sod- she’s one of us now, if she wants to be.” Twiglet snaps at Cestode.
“Yes. I mean… yes, if that’s…” Hibberd grins, hopeful.
“Welcome aboard.” Gina reaches out to shake the Halfling’s hand- grins all round, well nearly.
Cestode fumes.
“We?” Grungarak isn’t finished with him however.
“What?”
“You said ‘we’. ‘We rescued a common thief’, what did you do?” Which is the Half-Orc’s longest sentence to date.
“I…” Cestode decides to leave it there, gets up and stomps off to the bar.
“Where are you going?” Gina asks.
“To sack Fandango, we don’t need her anymore.”
“Sorry about him he’s…” Gina apologises.
“A misery guts.” Twiglet finishes.
They drink, eat, sleep and keep away from harm for a few more days at the Inn, treasures are identified and distributed, they re-equip, tell tall tales for the locals and generally manage to stay on best behaviour, even Cestode calms down and gets on with being a hero.
Except for Gina, who alone in her room kicks the Distant Device, the useless lump of shaped rock that her Uncle gave to her- it does nothing, did nothing- it’s a waste of time and the stories he told her are all lies. Which makes her think- why is she here? What good can she do?
Back in the cavern the water around the strange looking crystal boils.
Cestode garners enough XP to become a level 2 Paladin of Moradin, and here endeth the fourth actual session of play.
Richard Rawen
First Post
yes, yes, Annnnd, then what!? =-)
