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The Whiterock Castle Campaign- Nothing better than a good old sausage in you.
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4885631" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Alas I also no longer have the time to play DDO, my bro still plays but not often. Truth be told I want someone to make Vandal Hearts from the PS1 with 4e rules and a dungeon design package to serve as a gaming table, I think I'd re-prioritise my whole life if they did that.</p><p></p><p>Turn 28. “Bugger.”</p><p></p><p>The Slave Pits of Despair</p><p></p><p>For the stat conscious, and just to keep up with the play, our happy band now consists of- </p><p></p><p>Grungarak, Half-Orc Ranger 2</p><p>Twiglet Dwarven Fighter 2</p><p>Gina Gnome Cleric of Garl Glittergold 2</p><p>Cestode Dwarven Paladin of Moradin 2</p><p>Hibberd Halfling Wizard/Rogue 1/1</p><p></p><p>And so into the depths we go…</p><p></p><p>Or rather we would if I could get them down there.</p><p></p><p>“So what is it?” Twiglet asks again.</p><p>“A foul demon hound sent to destroy Dwarves, am I alone in noticing the way it avoided the Half-Orc and made straight for me and Twiggy- certainly it must have some sort of sixth sense, able to instinctively target the greatest threat- me. Oh and Twiggy.” Cestode offers his opinion.</p><p>“Mmm. If you say so- I think it’s a dog that can regenerate, like a Troll, a Dog-Troll- that’s it… most likely.” Gina states.</p><p></p><p>The adventurers stare a while longer at the destroyed Dog-Troll.</p><p></p><p>“Hope there’s not many more of them.” Twiglet adds.</p><p>“If there is then we shall stand together Twiggy, they cannot hope to challenge us with our combined strength.” Cestode adds, and then some more- “we make a great team, you and me.”</p><p></p><p>The group break up, saunter over the rubble pile, head for the door they discovered last time they were here.</p><p></p><p>“He’s a bit full of himself.” Gina whispers to Twiglet.</p><p>“Mmm. He’s got a lovely beard though.” Twiglet whispers back and looks a little wistful.</p><p></p><p>Then they’re at the stairs- Hibberd leads the way.</p><p></p><p>Quietly the Halfling takes a wander down, all the time scanning the steps for anything amiss, it’s a wonder then that she doesn’t spot the tripwire across the stairs about half-way down.</p><p></p><p>“Bugger.” The Halfling tumbles over and is back on her feet in seconds, just a bruised elbow to show for the encounter, and a dented ego.</p><p></p><p>However she keeps the noise to a minimum- there are voices below, gruff voices- Orcs. Hibberd cuts the wire and signals for the others to come forward- quietly.</p><p></p><p>They make their way down.</p><p></p><p>“Orcs.” Grungarak whispers.</p><p>“Five.” He adds.</p><p>“Or more.” He finishes.</p><p></p><p>The others nod and signal for Hibberd to move on, she shuffles forward again, taking extra care.</p><p></p><p>And fails to spot the second tripwire.</p><p></p><p>Luckily the rope does nothing more than snag her foot, arresting her descent for no more than a moment, she cuts it away, then signals to the others to move forward, which they do.</p><p></p><p>However this time the spell is broken, it has to be said the adventurers are not the quietest bunch, at the bottom of the stairs a huge Orc suddenly appears, he must have heard them.</p><p></p><p>“For Moradin.” Cestode is underway.</p><p>“Likewise.” Twiglet snapping at his heels.</p><p></p><p>The sturdy Dwarves take the last few steps at a gallop and thump into the Orc guard, greataxes to the fore, the Orc is near sliced in two, the pair spill into the chamber beyond.</p><p></p><p>This chamber is huge, a guardroom of sorts. There’s a door centred in the east wall and another door located on the south wall. A table with four battered chairs is along the north wall. A three-foot-high haphazard pile of rocks forms a crude wall about 20 feet long positioned in the southeast corner of the room. Five bestial humanoids with porcine features, Whiterock Orcs, rush to defend the room. Their skin is pasty white and they have unkempt white-grey hair. Two leap up from the table and advance with glaives while the other three take cover behind the makeshift wall hoisting heavy crossbows into position. </p><p></p><p>THUNG-CHUNG-DUNG</p><p></p><p>All three bolts are aimed straight at Cestode, not one of them pierces his armour the last ricochets of his helm and embeds itself in the stone ceiling.</p><p></p><p>“Thank fecking Moradin.” Cestode applies a wonky grin and checks himself all over for leaks.</p><p></p><p>Then the Orcs with glaives arrive, and are met with reach weapons- the skirmish is brief and at the end of it both Orcs lie dead, Twiglet has a nasty cut along his right arm.</p><p></p><p>In the midst of the chaos Grungarak bounds into the room with his bow ready.</p><p></p><p>FWUNG</p><p></p><p>One of the Orcs behind the low wall bites the dust, Gina follows in and quickly applies her healing hands to Twiglet’s wound.</p><p></p><p>Which only leaves two Orcs left, the first struggles to reload his heavy crossbow, the second hefts his glaive and charges around the low wall- only to be met by a pair of killer Dwarfs, the Orc holds out for a while, blocks several blows but is soon reduced to a bloody mess. </p><p></p><p>Hibberd is quickly to the door on the south wall, it’s the nearest, the Halfling presses his ear against it- concentrates, blocking out the noise in the room.</p><p></p><p>The last Orc offers little in the way of resistance, Grungarak’s arrow misses by inches but its enough to terrify the creature and cause it to drop its crossbow, it scrambles for its glaive, and screams- “no kill”, in Orcish.</p><p></p><p>Grungarak however has other ideas he spills his bow and unleashes his greataxe, then rumbles towards the creature, the Orc has few options, it chooses to try and dive across the low wall, it choose badly and ends up halfway across the obstacle and sans its head.</p><p></p><p>“There’s something coming.” Hibberd half-call half-whispers, “something big- NOW.”</p><p></p><p>“Form up, around the door, don’t let it enter the chamber.” Cestode calls and all except Hibberd rumble into position, the Halfling is hidden from sight to the side of the door.</p><p></p><p>The door flies open.</p><p>“Who’s makin’ der noise?”</p><p>“It’s a feckin’ Minotaur.” Twiglet turns as white as a ghost.</p><p></p><p>And that's the last of them- no really, no more.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 4885631, member: 16069"] Alas I also no longer have the time to play DDO, my bro still plays but not often. Truth be told I want someone to make Vandal Hearts from the PS1 with 4e rules and a dungeon design package to serve as a gaming table, I think I'd re-prioritise my whole life if they did that. Turn 28. “Bugger.” The Slave Pits of Despair For the stat conscious, and just to keep up with the play, our happy band now consists of- Grungarak, Half-Orc Ranger 2 Twiglet Dwarven Fighter 2 Gina Gnome Cleric of Garl Glittergold 2 Cestode Dwarven Paladin of Moradin 2 Hibberd Halfling Wizard/Rogue 1/1 And so into the depths we go… Or rather we would if I could get them down there. “So what is it?” Twiglet asks again. “A foul demon hound sent to destroy Dwarves, am I alone in noticing the way it avoided the Half-Orc and made straight for me and Twiggy- certainly it must have some sort of sixth sense, able to instinctively target the greatest threat- me. Oh and Twiggy.” Cestode offers his opinion. “Mmm. If you say so- I think it’s a dog that can regenerate, like a Troll, a Dog-Troll- that’s it… most likely.” Gina states. The adventurers stare a while longer at the destroyed Dog-Troll. “Hope there’s not many more of them.” Twiglet adds. “If there is then we shall stand together Twiggy, they cannot hope to challenge us with our combined strength.” Cestode adds, and then some more- “we make a great team, you and me.” The group break up, saunter over the rubble pile, head for the door they discovered last time they were here. “He’s a bit full of himself.” Gina whispers to Twiglet. “Mmm. He’s got a lovely beard though.” Twiglet whispers back and looks a little wistful. Then they’re at the stairs- Hibberd leads the way. Quietly the Halfling takes a wander down, all the time scanning the steps for anything amiss, it’s a wonder then that she doesn’t spot the tripwire across the stairs about half-way down. “Bugger.” The Halfling tumbles over and is back on her feet in seconds, just a bruised elbow to show for the encounter, and a dented ego. However she keeps the noise to a minimum- there are voices below, gruff voices- Orcs. Hibberd cuts the wire and signals for the others to come forward- quietly. They make their way down. “Orcs.” Grungarak whispers. “Five.” He adds. “Or more.” He finishes. The others nod and signal for Hibberd to move on, she shuffles forward again, taking extra care. And fails to spot the second tripwire. Luckily the rope does nothing more than snag her foot, arresting her descent for no more than a moment, she cuts it away, then signals to the others to move forward, which they do. However this time the spell is broken, it has to be said the adventurers are not the quietest bunch, at the bottom of the stairs a huge Orc suddenly appears, he must have heard them. “For Moradin.” Cestode is underway. “Likewise.” Twiglet snapping at his heels. The sturdy Dwarves take the last few steps at a gallop and thump into the Orc guard, greataxes to the fore, the Orc is near sliced in two, the pair spill into the chamber beyond. This chamber is huge, a guardroom of sorts. There’s a door centred in the east wall and another door located on the south wall. A table with four battered chairs is along the north wall. A three-foot-high haphazard pile of rocks forms a crude wall about 20 feet long positioned in the southeast corner of the room. Five bestial humanoids with porcine features, Whiterock Orcs, rush to defend the room. Their skin is pasty white and they have unkempt white-grey hair. Two leap up from the table and advance with glaives while the other three take cover behind the makeshift wall hoisting heavy crossbows into position. THUNG-CHUNG-DUNG All three bolts are aimed straight at Cestode, not one of them pierces his armour the last ricochets of his helm and embeds itself in the stone ceiling. “Thank fecking Moradin.” Cestode applies a wonky grin and checks himself all over for leaks. Then the Orcs with glaives arrive, and are met with reach weapons- the skirmish is brief and at the end of it both Orcs lie dead, Twiglet has a nasty cut along his right arm. In the midst of the chaos Grungarak bounds into the room with his bow ready. FWUNG One of the Orcs behind the low wall bites the dust, Gina follows in and quickly applies her healing hands to Twiglet’s wound. Which only leaves two Orcs left, the first struggles to reload his heavy crossbow, the second hefts his glaive and charges around the low wall- only to be met by a pair of killer Dwarfs, the Orc holds out for a while, blocks several blows but is soon reduced to a bloody mess. Hibberd is quickly to the door on the south wall, it’s the nearest, the Halfling presses his ear against it- concentrates, blocking out the noise in the room. The last Orc offers little in the way of resistance, Grungarak’s arrow misses by inches but its enough to terrify the creature and cause it to drop its crossbow, it scrambles for its glaive, and screams- “no kill”, in Orcish. Grungarak however has other ideas he spills his bow and unleashes his greataxe, then rumbles towards the creature, the Orc has few options, it chooses to try and dive across the low wall, it choose badly and ends up halfway across the obstacle and sans its head. “There’s something coming.” Hibberd half-call half-whispers, “something big- NOW.” “Form up, around the door, don’t let it enter the chamber.” Cestode calls and all except Hibberd rumble into position, the Halfling is hidden from sight to the side of the door. The door flies open. “Who’s makin’ der noise?” “It’s a feckin’ Minotaur.” Twiglet turns as white as a ghost. And that's the last of them- no really, no more. [/QUOTE]
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