D&D General To TPK or Not to TPK, that is the question...
Greenfield
Adventurer
I'd like to thank all of you who responded. This was troubling me and you helped me talk and think it out.
Still not sure of the final resolution, but I've got a better grip on it now.
Want to know the funny part? The "Big Bad" of the scene, the Efreet? By the book they're CR 6, and the only reason he'd be a real challenge at all would be because the party should be ground down from the previous encounters.
Still not sure of the final resolution, but I've got a better grip on it now.
Want to know the funny part? The "Big Bad" of the scene, the Efreet? By the book they're CR 6, and the only reason he'd be a real challenge at all would be because the party should be ground down from the previous encounters.
LordEntrails
Hero
Let them die.
Greenfield
Adventurer
I thought you all deserved to know what happened, so here's the epilogue, in pseudo story form.
<Story>
The sky was a twisted collage of smoke and fire, and the ground shifted underfoot as Sir Pax Manus, temple knight of Corellan called for his horse.
Across the field his opponent was already mounting up, his Second holding the reins and helping secure the tournament straps.
There was an odd symmetry to the pair. Sir Pax, champion of Freedom, wore dark armor of adamantine, scarred where the symbol of a dark deity had been struck and gouged from the surface.
Sir Michael Irons, Paladin of Tyranny, sat resplendent in armor of shining mithral, all silver and blue, his cloak billowing behind him like a cloud. His armor was scarred as well, for it had once carried the sigil of a knight of Pelor. The irony wasn't lost on either of the pair.
Off to one side Leona and Siri sat and watched. Leona almost bounced in her seat, repeating "This will make such a great story!", with occasional remarks about writing a ballad about it all.
Siri tried to ignore the energetic Bard, concentrating on her friend, Sir Pax. His horse was in pain due to the fiery nature of the place, but the Cleric of Kord was soothing it, granting it protection against the near-hellish flames.
At the far end of the field, the man who had been called Shade was pacing impatiently. He seemed cat-like in his movements, looking sharp eyed and predatory, waiting for his chance to pounce. He carried only a belt knife, with similar blades visible at the top of each of his boots, yet he felt dangerous.
Once both knights were ready, Leona called out in a surprising loud voice, "Are you ready?". Both men raised their lances, looking at her, then back to each other.
Leona stood up on her bench and cried, "Pretend I have a handkerchief to drop." And then her raised arm snapped down, and the pair were thundering down the field towards each other.
Pax' horse was the swifter, as it's feet flew over the lava-boggy field, and he leaned his weight forward, rising up slightly in the stirrups as they crashed together.
He felt his lance catch slightly in his opponent's armor, then slide off. Sir Michael's lance didn't slide, but found a shoulder joint in Pax' armor and emerged bloody.
The pair wheeled, paused a moment to ensure that their opponent was ready, then charged again. Once more the field rang with the sound of impact, and both lances now showed blood.
They spun once more and, without pause, thundered down the fiery field once more.
Pax raised his lance tip at the last moment, targeting his opponent's head, but Michael shifted slightly in the saddle. His own lance struck true and so solidly that Pax reeled from the impact, unhorsed by the blow. </story>
<Commentary> The evil Paladin scored a Critical hit. My rule for being unhorsed was simple: When struck, make a Ride check, with the damage done as the target DC. I'm sure there are official rules somewhere for that sort of thing, but I had no idea what or where they are, so I just ran with what felt right. </Commentary>
<Story> Pax rolled as he landed, as he'd been trained, and came up with his lance in his hand. Blood flowed freely from the tear in his side.
Sir Michael paused. "Can you continue?", he asked. He seemed to be stalling, and Pax took advantage of the moment and called upon a gift from his deity to close his wounds. It took almost every ounce of that gift, but when the moment passed he stood, ready to fight again.
Sir Michael waited until he was sure Pax had finished, then lowered his visor and charged once more.
Pax shifted his feet from side to side as he watched his foe try to ride him down. Just before impact he stopped and, bracing the butt of his lance against his foot, dropped the tip into striking position.
Sir Michael's lance scored true again, and Pax was forced to steady himself, lest he fall.
On the next pass, Pax lance scored, as did Michael's. The, to Pax' surprise, Micheal called shade over and handed him the lance. "Never let it be said that I'm anything but fair.", he declared, then accepted his axe from his second.
From there the pair approached each other and began to exchange blows, over and over again.</Story>
<Commentary>The two faced off like that for the rest of the scene, though both had really cold dice. Pax, the PC, was taking the worst of it, but the cold dice made it drag on.
I had advised the group that they needed to regroup. One of the players resisted, or at least failed to realize what would happen when the single combat turned into anything larger.
I even went so far as to ask his CR (Clue Resistance) and he still missed it. He comes in via Skype and has a hearing problem, but I don't think that accounts for this. He was in Wind Walk form, and it takes five rounds to solidify. In combat five rounds can be the rest of your life.
I finally told him about available time, and asked what he was going to do with it. I listed options, then said, loud anc clear, "THIS IS A CLUE!!!". His response? "I'll just wait back here and see what happens."</Commentary>
<Story>Mash, the mighty Barbarian, slowly solidified in the courtyard, then moved to the gate so he could see the battle. As he approached the gateway he saw a towering figure standing by the side, watching the battle. Summoning his will, he cast a spell as quiely as he could. A bolt of green light leapt from his hand and struck the Half Ogre, sapping his strength.
At once Renaldo, the Cleric of Hextor, cried out, "Treachery", and cast a spell of his own.
Mash felt the curse strike him, but it failed to overpower his willpower, so he remained unaffected. Still, the peace of the moment was broken, and battle began in earnest.
Siri sprang to her feet and activated the blessing on her Celestial armor so she could take flight. Leona looked surprised, and cried out, "Wait, you'll ruin the ending." But suddenly there was a blade in her hand, and Siri felt it slide across the thin protection on the back of her knee. And just like that the bouncy, sparkly Bard was gone and Siri found herself facing a much darker, fiercer foe. "Hi. I'm Blades", the Halfling said with a grin.
Across the field Shade stopped his pacing and pointed an accusing finger at Mash. And in an instant there was a bow in his hand, and an arrow sprang from it like a thunderbolt. And nobody had even seen him draw it.</Story>
<Commentary>I have an admission to make: I can't recall the name of the party Ranger, so I'll have to make something up. I'll call him Ardan.
Shade is a Scout and has a pair of Gloves of Storing. He had prepared by activating the Shock effect on his bow (normally a Standard Action), nocked and drawn an arrow, then put the bow into his glove. When needed he can "point" at a target and snap his fingers (activating the Glove is a free action.) The bow is suddenly there and he isn't holding the string back any more so it fires. One free shot, with a penalty for the way it's aimed, without the bow actually being there.
Yeah, it's a dirty trick, but it has style.
I'm going to break right now, but more will follow.
<Story>
The sky was a twisted collage of smoke and fire, and the ground shifted underfoot as Sir Pax Manus, temple knight of Corellan called for his horse.
Across the field his opponent was already mounting up, his Second holding the reins and helping secure the tournament straps.
There was an odd symmetry to the pair. Sir Pax, champion of Freedom, wore dark armor of adamantine, scarred where the symbol of a dark deity had been struck and gouged from the surface.
Sir Michael Irons, Paladin of Tyranny, sat resplendent in armor of shining mithral, all silver and blue, his cloak billowing behind him like a cloud. His armor was scarred as well, for it had once carried the sigil of a knight of Pelor. The irony wasn't lost on either of the pair.
Off to one side Leona and Siri sat and watched. Leona almost bounced in her seat, repeating "This will make such a great story!", with occasional remarks about writing a ballad about it all.
Siri tried to ignore the energetic Bard, concentrating on her friend, Sir Pax. His horse was in pain due to the fiery nature of the place, but the Cleric of Kord was soothing it, granting it protection against the near-hellish flames.
At the far end of the field, the man who had been called Shade was pacing impatiently. He seemed cat-like in his movements, looking sharp eyed and predatory, waiting for his chance to pounce. He carried only a belt knife, with similar blades visible at the top of each of his boots, yet he felt dangerous.
Once both knights were ready, Leona called out in a surprising loud voice, "Are you ready?". Both men raised their lances, looking at her, then back to each other.
Leona stood up on her bench and cried, "Pretend I have a handkerchief to drop." And then her raised arm snapped down, and the pair were thundering down the field towards each other.
Pax' horse was the swifter, as it's feet flew over the lava-boggy field, and he leaned his weight forward, rising up slightly in the stirrups as they crashed together.
He felt his lance catch slightly in his opponent's armor, then slide off. Sir Michael's lance didn't slide, but found a shoulder joint in Pax' armor and emerged bloody.
The pair wheeled, paused a moment to ensure that their opponent was ready, then charged again. Once more the field rang with the sound of impact, and both lances now showed blood.
They spun once more and, without pause, thundered down the fiery field once more.
Pax raised his lance tip at the last moment, targeting his opponent's head, but Michael shifted slightly in the saddle. His own lance struck true and so solidly that Pax reeled from the impact, unhorsed by the blow. </story>
<Commentary> The evil Paladin scored a Critical hit. My rule for being unhorsed was simple: When struck, make a Ride check, with the damage done as the target DC. I'm sure there are official rules somewhere for that sort of thing, but I had no idea what or where they are, so I just ran with what felt right. </Commentary>
<Story> Pax rolled as he landed, as he'd been trained, and came up with his lance in his hand. Blood flowed freely from the tear in his side.
Sir Michael paused. "Can you continue?", he asked. He seemed to be stalling, and Pax took advantage of the moment and called upon a gift from his deity to close his wounds. It took almost every ounce of that gift, but when the moment passed he stood, ready to fight again.
Sir Michael waited until he was sure Pax had finished, then lowered his visor and charged once more.
Pax shifted his feet from side to side as he watched his foe try to ride him down. Just before impact he stopped and, bracing the butt of his lance against his foot, dropped the tip into striking position.
Sir Michael's lance scored true again, and Pax was forced to steady himself, lest he fall.
On the next pass, Pax lance scored, as did Michael's. The, to Pax' surprise, Micheal called shade over and handed him the lance. "Never let it be said that I'm anything but fair.", he declared, then accepted his axe from his second.
From there the pair approached each other and began to exchange blows, over and over again.</Story>
<Commentary>The two faced off like that for the rest of the scene, though both had really cold dice. Pax, the PC, was taking the worst of it, but the cold dice made it drag on.
I had advised the group that they needed to regroup. One of the players resisted, or at least failed to realize what would happen when the single combat turned into anything larger.
I even went so far as to ask his CR (Clue Resistance) and he still missed it. He comes in via Skype and has a hearing problem, but I don't think that accounts for this. He was in Wind Walk form, and it takes five rounds to solidify. In combat five rounds can be the rest of your life.
I finally told him about available time, and asked what he was going to do with it. I listed options, then said, loud anc clear, "THIS IS A CLUE!!!". His response? "I'll just wait back here and see what happens."</Commentary>
<Story>Mash, the mighty Barbarian, slowly solidified in the courtyard, then moved to the gate so he could see the battle. As he approached the gateway he saw a towering figure standing by the side, watching the battle. Summoning his will, he cast a spell as quiely as he could. A bolt of green light leapt from his hand and struck the Half Ogre, sapping his strength.
At once Renaldo, the Cleric of Hextor, cried out, "Treachery", and cast a spell of his own.
Mash felt the curse strike him, but it failed to overpower his willpower, so he remained unaffected. Still, the peace of the moment was broken, and battle began in earnest.
Siri sprang to her feet and activated the blessing on her Celestial armor so she could take flight. Leona looked surprised, and cried out, "Wait, you'll ruin the ending." But suddenly there was a blade in her hand, and Siri felt it slide across the thin protection on the back of her knee. And just like that the bouncy, sparkly Bard was gone and Siri found herself facing a much darker, fiercer foe. "Hi. I'm Blades", the Halfling said with a grin.
Across the field Shade stopped his pacing and pointed an accusing finger at Mash. And in an instant there was a bow in his hand, and an arrow sprang from it like a thunderbolt. And nobody had even seen him draw it.</Story>
<Commentary>I have an admission to make: I can't recall the name of the party Ranger, so I'll have to make something up. I'll call him Ardan.
Shade is a Scout and has a pair of Gloves of Storing. He had prepared by activating the Shock effect on his bow (normally a Standard Action), nocked and drawn an arrow, then put the bow into his glove. When needed he can "point" at a target and snap his fingers (activating the Glove is a free action.) The bow is suddenly there and he isn't holding the string back any more so it fires. One free shot, with a penalty for the way it's aimed, without the bow actually being there.
Yeah, it's a dirty trick, but it has style.
I'm going to break right now, but more will follow.
Greenfield
Adventurer
Continuing the story/commentary epilogue...
<Story>Siri staggered as her bloodied knee almost buckled beneath her, amazed at her opponent's speed. What surprised her most was that she could be surprised that way at all. She hadn't seen that coming, and she knew that she should have.
Knife fighting is something of a dance, one that Siri was normally happy to join, but her wounded leg weakened and slowed her, and that would mean death. She withdrew to the sky, a place her opponent couldn't follow.
Arden the Ranger had shed his misty form without anyone taking notice, choosing a spot atop an outer wall of Ignus estate. When he saw Shade's bow suddenly appear, his own was in his hand a moment later, and an arrow whistled though the smokey air.
Shade recoiled as the arrow lanced into his side, only now noticing this new adversary. He danced to his right to line up a shot and fired. It might have scored, but Ardan's perch afforded him some cover, while Shade had none.
Ivan, the Half Ogre, finally noticed that something was amiss and drew his great sword from the hollow log he used for a scabbard. With a roar of fury he brought the blade around, crerating a 20 foot circle of ringing steel. Mash ducked beneath the blade and watched it bury itself in the pillar beside him. Even enfeebled, his opponent was terrifyingly strong.
But then, so was Mash, and the scythe that had earned him the name "The Green Reaper" was in his hand in an instant, and gouging flesh from his opponent an instant after that.
Ferguson, Cleric of Kord, saw that what had been a duel of honor had devolved into a raging battlefield, so he drew his own greatsword and charged across the field, intent upon placing himself between the enemy archer and Sir Pax' exposed back.
As he ran he heard the scrabble of feet on hard tile and, looking up he saw his friend Cyrano struggling with someone else up on a rooftop. The scene was so unexpected it distracted him at the wrong moment.
The reason it was unexpected was that Cyrano had stayed with Fireheart at his estates, and because Cyrano was a Wizard who would seldom if ever join in a wrestling match with anyone.
The reason the distraction was at the wrong moment was that his path took him closer to the two battling knights and he ran right into the blade of a great axe. The impact took the wind out of him, along with a good bit of blood.
Despite the momentary interruption, Pax and Michael were still standing, toe to toe, pounding on each other with a grim determination. Only one of them would walk away from this. And at the moment it appeared that it wouldn't be Pax.
Even with the opportunity Sir Irons had granted him to heal himself, blood was running from every joint in Pax' armor, the sheer power of the great war axe threatening to crush bone even when its edge met plate. At the same time the huge shield of the axe wielding warrior danced about on its own, protecting him from Pax' blade, swifter though it be.</Story>
<Commentary>Something I didn't make clear earlier, and I should have, is that the Paladin of Tyranny was using a Tower shield, animated so he could use a two handed weapon and still have some defense.
Also, the surprise of Siri was actually the way the player felt. She was certain that she was effectively immune to Sneak Attacks. At her level the Improved Uncanny Dodge feature said that she couldn't be flanked, would retain her Dex bonus when flat footed and even against Invisible opponents. Only a Rogue four or more levels higher than she was could flank her at all, and being 18th level in a non-epic game there shouldn't be a Rogue four levels higher than she was.
What she had missed was the Improved Feint feat. The chattering of the "Bard" was an ongoing distraction to set up that blow. That particular approach to Sneak doesn't depend on a flank, so the "Rogue four levels higher" rule didn't apply. Neither was it depending on her being flat footed nor was her opponent invisible. Add in Crippling Strike to drain 2 points of Strength with each sneak attack and it's a nasty combination.</Commentary>
<Story>Shade was amazed at the sheer fury of Ardan's assault. The Dwarf was all but raining arrows down from his perch on the roof, and while Shade was nimble he wasn't so quick that he could dodge raindrops. Not all of them anyway. His own preferred tactic was to maneuver to line up his best shot, then strike with deadly accuracy. He was seeing the virtue of another approach, as his "deadly accuracy" was yet to draw even the first drop of blood.
Ardan was facing the flaw of his quick firing approach: He could fire five arrows in the time most people could fire one, but it meant that his quiver got empty five times faster. He could see the dark archer below gauging every shot, and counting the arrows. He knew that the Dwarf would run out of ammunition soon.
Then it happened. His hand went for an arrow and found emptiness. And he smiled.
He'd faced this limit before, and came prepared. He quickly reached into his magical pack and withdrew a fresh sheaf of arrows, loosed the tie that held them, and dropped them into his quiver, all in one smooth, well practiced move. The look on his opponent's face was priceless.
Blaze/Blades cursed as she struggled across the field, trying to keep up with her flying opponent. Her short legs churned against the yielding ground but seemed to get little traction, while Siri darted away into the distance. Still, she had done her job: She'd kept the infamous Rogue occupied and out of the conflict, almost without needing to draw a blade.
The pounding exchange between Sir Michael and Sir Pax was mirrored by the match between Mash and Ivan. But in the latter case the winner was likely to be Mash, as his weakened opponent couldn't really follow through the way he was used to.
Ferguson clutched at his midsection, shocked at the effect of that axe, and knew that if that was what it felt like to be hit once, then Pax ability to even stand was a testament to his fortitude. He looked about, realized that he was safe for the moment, then called upon the power of his god. "Strength to Persevere, oh Kord!", he cried, and he felt the divine power flow through him and outward, closing his wounds.
Pax also felt the healing power of the god of strength, and fought against it. "No!", he cried. "I stand or I fall with honor. No quarter asked and none given!" His wounds closed none the less, though he had rejected much of what was offered.
And the battle raged on.
Siri, hearing Pax' resolve, chose not to land behind Sir Irons. Pax might need the help, but he'd never forgive her if she provided it.
She surveyed the field, looking for another likely target. Even getting close to the huge Half-Ogre could be the last mistake of her life. There really wasn't a way to do that without eating steel, and she knew it. Shade had no one engaging him, so no chance of sliding a blade into some unguarded ribs, and Cyrano seemed content with what he was doing. She decided to wait for an opportunity.</Story>
<Commentary>Yes, Cure Light - Mass was cast specifically to help Pax, and the character made his Will save to reduce the effect by half. The player/character earned an Exp bonus for that move, because it's exactly the right thing for the character to do, even though it could mean his death. Good role playing like that is a rare thing and deserves recognition. Presuming the PC lives to collect it, of course.
The business of Cyrano and the other NPC on the roof was simple: They had an arcane caster, but as the DM I knew that the PCs didn't. Their Wiz' was out of play, the DM's character, and relegated to NPC status for the duration. So I balanced the field a bit by simply declaring that the two casters were wrestling, an act that does little or no real damage but makes spell casting all but impossible.</Commentary>
<Story>"Strength of Kord!", cried Ferguson, again invoking the power of his god. Kord answered and the cleric felt his muscles and form swell with that power. He now stood as a giant on the field, taller and more massive than the mighty Half Ogre. And now, even without moving the dancing Shade was within the reach of his blade.
Shade was the quicker though and sprang backwards into a quick flip, evading the towering Cleric's great blade, while drawing a fresh arrow as he moved.
The bow sang it's song and lightning sprang from it to find a home in that huge form, drawing yet another look of shock from the Cleric.
Ignus had retreated from the courtyard when the battle began in earnest, no longer finding death and destruction entertaining. He stepped inside the front chamber of his own manor house, where its magical defenses could protect him.
And across the field a booming voice sounded in the minds of all: "Well, Ignus, you do make a guest feel welcome." It was Fireheart, standing tall over even the towering Half Ogre. His arms were folded, his blade at rest in his scabbard.
"You broke the Sultan's law!", accused the lesser Efreet. "You sent mercenaries to kill me, and the Sultan forbade that."
"These?", Fireheart chuckled. "They don't work for me. I've given them neither pay nor promise of payment. Their leader there", he added, indicating Sir Pax, "He can barely stand my presence, his fury is so intense. He wouldn't take an order from me even if I though to give one."
Ignus backed deeper into the room, crying, "Janni, attend me!" A small throng of the muscular guards, who had been caught up watching the battle, flocked to his defense, setting a perimeter of flesh, bone, magic and steel around their master. And Ignus looked at the field before him and realized that they wouldn't be enough.
He started to cry out again, but no sound emerged from his lips. And in everyone's mind, Fireheart roared with mirth.
Ivan had fallen to his knees, dropping his great sword to the ground and bowing to Mash. He had had enough.
Shade, knowing that he was seriously overmatched, darted towards the building and around a corner. When Ardan peered over the edge all he saw was smoke and fire. His foe had disappeared.
And spells were raining into that front room, blasts of blistering cold and blinding light. Ignus kept trying to say something but couldn't. He turned to flee but the doors behind him wouldn't open. And he knew the strength of those doors because he'd had them built as part of his home's defense.
"They really don't work for me, nor will they obey any order I give", Fireheart called out, his voice heard in all the minds present. "But I might be able to intercede on your behalf. But you had best decide soon, because they really won't stop just because I ask."
Ignus voice rolled out within their minds as well, but his words would have scorched the earth even if it was already on fire.
A burst of pure sunlight erupted from the room, and several of the Janni staggered, clutching at their dazzled eyes.
"What are your terms?", Ignus asked.
"Simple. You agree to pay your debts to your own mercenaries, you agree to relinquish all of your claimed lands to me, and you admit to your crimes."
Ignus hesitated long enough for an arrow to sprout from his chest, then quickly agreed.
"The battle is over!", declared Fireheart. "By my word, all slaves are to be released and all debts to be paid."
Suddenly the flames of the battlefield swirled high all around them and all present found themselves in a grand hall.
All except Sir Pax and Sir Michael, whose weapons crashed and rang against each other unabated. It took them several seconds to realize that they weren't on that field of fire and blood.
The Janni present immediately fell to their knees and bowed forward, their faces to the floor.
Fireheart turned to face the Sultan, whose hall they were in, dropped to one knee and bowed deeply (though not so deeply as the Janni had.)
Even sitting upon his grand throne, the Sultan of the City of Brass was taller than even Firehear. He looked at the two knights standing before him and waved encouragement. "I always find blood and rage amusing. Pray continue."
When they didn't, and Sir Michael went to a knee, the sultan looked mildly disappointed. The he turned his attention upon Fireheart.
"I gave specific orders about your dispute, and you ignored them. Is there any reason i should not have you struck down right now?"
Fireheart smiled and bowed even lower. "Your orders were indeed specific. That we should settle the territorial dispute between ourselves. We were forbidden any violence between ourselves, including violence between our servants, slaves, minions or hirelings."
The huge Efreet then looke up with a smile. I have obeyed your law to the letter. Neither I nor any who serve me in any capacity have shed a drop of blood nor struck any blow against Ignus or any who serve him."
The Sultan frowned. "And yet there is battle and blood. Explain!"
"None of these combatants serve me.", Fireheart began. "I informed my friend of Ignus perfidy, but I offered these no payment. No monies were promised, nor favors or services were offered, nor were any debts they might owe me to be forgiven. When it became clear that they intended to intrude on our disagreement I went so far as to beg thhem to be merciful, and you know that for one such as I to beg anything from fleshlings is no small thing."
"That word you used, 'friend'. What is that?", queried the Sultan. He had had to use the Common word "friend" for there was no such word in the language of fire.
"A 'friend' is a person who might choose to help you when you need it, without payment nor counting of debt. As their friend you might choose to help them on occasion, but then again you might choose not to. No payment, no contract, all strictly voluntary."
The Sultan was aghast. "Service without payment? How can such a thing be? Which of you is the master, if both can serve the other?"
Fireheart tried to explain further, but it became clear that the Sultan couldn't believe such a thing was real. However it was also clear that he understood that it was real among "fleshlings".
He then turned to Ignus, who had remained silent to this point. "What of you? Why did you engage these mercenaries, if not to battle Lord Fireheart?", he demanded, making a point to acknowledge Fireheart's rank.
"I feared that he might find some way to subvert your very just ruling.", Ignus replied, still looking at the floor. "Had I not done so I would surely have been slain."
The Sultan then, finally, looked at the mortals in his hall. "Who is your leader?", he asked. "Who speaks for you?"
Both sides pointed towards the two knights.
"Which side struck the first blow?", the Sultan asked impatiently.
"By agreement, and in accordance with our laws, we struck together.", Sir Michael replied. Pax agreed, "Sir Michael and I are rivals of old, and met in battle as equals should. It is the way of our orders."
The Sultan's impatience became more apparent, as he didn't seem to be getting the answers he wanted.
Pointing to Pax, who had last spoken, he asked, "Which of these two do you work for?"
Pax looked askew that Fireheart and had to admit, "Neither. I'd die before I would agree to serve either one. I came here because that one", he almost spat at Ignus, "had stolen land and taken slaves."
"But Lord Fireheart also holds slaves. Why be offended by one and not the other?"
Fireheart advanced slightly, "I hold no slaves, great Sultan. I freed al of mine and forbade any of my subjects from holding any. Any who serve me do so by choice." Seeing the look of disbelief on the Sultan's face, he quickly continued. "It is the way of these fleshlings, and though I don't truly understand it, it does seem to work for them. I made this decision as a gesture to my friend", he said, indicating Cyrano, "but independent of any decision or action of his friends and companions."
The Sultan sat back, and smiled. "Well played, Lord Fireheart. I will have to be more careful in my rulings. I trust that you and Ignus have reached terms?"
Fireheart smiled in return, not the forced smile of a subject in the halls of his lord, but the smile of success. "He has agreed to pay his debts, both to his servants and those he hired. He also agreed to turn over all disputed lands to me, and to pay the penalty of the Sultan's law for his crimes." </Story>
I'm going to end it there. In my view of a Lawful Evil society, such as the Efreet of the Plane of Fire, the concept of a "friend" is a foreign one. That's how Fireheart tip-toed around the Sultan's orders.
I left one PC out of the narrative completely. The party Druid had taken the form of a Fire Elemental, which was excellent cover for the scene. I also left out any other mention of their Cleric after his first spell. The cast of characters was pretty large and I didn't want to make the tale more of a jumble than it already was.
Ignus ended up being imprisoned in the same magic ring that he had used to imprison Fireheart. The party asked what would happen to that ring. If Ignus was bound within until he had provided three services for a mortal, he could be back as soon as the next day.
Fireheart confirmed that those were the terms, but also explained that he had no intention of ever leaving that ring where a mortal could find it.
The PCs knew that they'd been used, but the full details of how badly they'd been used only came out at the very end. All of his gestures and concessions had been empty. He could free his slaves, but unless they had some way to walk for two days to the city, across the flaming landscape of the Plane of Fire, they couldn't actually leave his estates. They had to work for their food and upkeep jus as they had before.
Even when the party realized this and he relented, offering them safe passage to the city, he knew they'd be back. Humans walking in that city were always presumed to belong to someone, and without money they could neither eat nor find shelter, and they certainly couldn't afford a trip back to the Material plane.
Under pressure from the party he offered to send the word through that quarter for those humans to gather at a place called "The Details" (an inn, of sorts) within the next three days. The PCs planned to ferry them all home. Of course, few if any will come to Fireheart's call, so they're still screwed.
Yeah, the "nice guy" thing was an act all the way. Still, he is the legendary "lesser of two evils", compared to dealing with other Efreet. He actually has seen that there is value in this "friendship" thing, and does defer somewhat to the wishes of the Paladin of Freedom.
And thus ends the tale. I hope that you've all enjoyed it.
<Story>Siri staggered as her bloodied knee almost buckled beneath her, amazed at her opponent's speed. What surprised her most was that she could be surprised that way at all. She hadn't seen that coming, and she knew that she should have.
Knife fighting is something of a dance, one that Siri was normally happy to join, but her wounded leg weakened and slowed her, and that would mean death. She withdrew to the sky, a place her opponent couldn't follow.
Arden the Ranger had shed his misty form without anyone taking notice, choosing a spot atop an outer wall of Ignus estate. When he saw Shade's bow suddenly appear, his own was in his hand a moment later, and an arrow whistled though the smokey air.
Shade recoiled as the arrow lanced into his side, only now noticing this new adversary. He danced to his right to line up a shot and fired. It might have scored, but Ardan's perch afforded him some cover, while Shade had none.
Ivan, the Half Ogre, finally noticed that something was amiss and drew his great sword from the hollow log he used for a scabbard. With a roar of fury he brought the blade around, crerating a 20 foot circle of ringing steel. Mash ducked beneath the blade and watched it bury itself in the pillar beside him. Even enfeebled, his opponent was terrifyingly strong.
But then, so was Mash, and the scythe that had earned him the name "The Green Reaper" was in his hand in an instant, and gouging flesh from his opponent an instant after that.
Ferguson, Cleric of Kord, saw that what had been a duel of honor had devolved into a raging battlefield, so he drew his own greatsword and charged across the field, intent upon placing himself between the enemy archer and Sir Pax' exposed back.
As he ran he heard the scrabble of feet on hard tile and, looking up he saw his friend Cyrano struggling with someone else up on a rooftop. The scene was so unexpected it distracted him at the wrong moment.
The reason it was unexpected was that Cyrano had stayed with Fireheart at his estates, and because Cyrano was a Wizard who would seldom if ever join in a wrestling match with anyone.
The reason the distraction was at the wrong moment was that his path took him closer to the two battling knights and he ran right into the blade of a great axe. The impact took the wind out of him, along with a good bit of blood.
Despite the momentary interruption, Pax and Michael were still standing, toe to toe, pounding on each other with a grim determination. Only one of them would walk away from this. And at the moment it appeared that it wouldn't be Pax.
Even with the opportunity Sir Irons had granted him to heal himself, blood was running from every joint in Pax' armor, the sheer power of the great war axe threatening to crush bone even when its edge met plate. At the same time the huge shield of the axe wielding warrior danced about on its own, protecting him from Pax' blade, swifter though it be.</Story>
<Commentary>Something I didn't make clear earlier, and I should have, is that the Paladin of Tyranny was using a Tower shield, animated so he could use a two handed weapon and still have some defense.
Also, the surprise of Siri was actually the way the player felt. She was certain that she was effectively immune to Sneak Attacks. At her level the Improved Uncanny Dodge feature said that she couldn't be flanked, would retain her Dex bonus when flat footed and even against Invisible opponents. Only a Rogue four or more levels higher than she was could flank her at all, and being 18th level in a non-epic game there shouldn't be a Rogue four levels higher than she was.
What she had missed was the Improved Feint feat. The chattering of the "Bard" was an ongoing distraction to set up that blow. That particular approach to Sneak doesn't depend on a flank, so the "Rogue four levels higher" rule didn't apply. Neither was it depending on her being flat footed nor was her opponent invisible. Add in Crippling Strike to drain 2 points of Strength with each sneak attack and it's a nasty combination.</Commentary>
<Story>Shade was amazed at the sheer fury of Ardan's assault. The Dwarf was all but raining arrows down from his perch on the roof, and while Shade was nimble he wasn't so quick that he could dodge raindrops. Not all of them anyway. His own preferred tactic was to maneuver to line up his best shot, then strike with deadly accuracy. He was seeing the virtue of another approach, as his "deadly accuracy" was yet to draw even the first drop of blood.
Ardan was facing the flaw of his quick firing approach: He could fire five arrows in the time most people could fire one, but it meant that his quiver got empty five times faster. He could see the dark archer below gauging every shot, and counting the arrows. He knew that the Dwarf would run out of ammunition soon.
Then it happened. His hand went for an arrow and found emptiness. And he smiled.
He'd faced this limit before, and came prepared. He quickly reached into his magical pack and withdrew a fresh sheaf of arrows, loosed the tie that held them, and dropped them into his quiver, all in one smooth, well practiced move. The look on his opponent's face was priceless.
Blaze/Blades cursed as she struggled across the field, trying to keep up with her flying opponent. Her short legs churned against the yielding ground but seemed to get little traction, while Siri darted away into the distance. Still, she had done her job: She'd kept the infamous Rogue occupied and out of the conflict, almost without needing to draw a blade.
The pounding exchange between Sir Michael and Sir Pax was mirrored by the match between Mash and Ivan. But in the latter case the winner was likely to be Mash, as his weakened opponent couldn't really follow through the way he was used to.
Ferguson clutched at his midsection, shocked at the effect of that axe, and knew that if that was what it felt like to be hit once, then Pax ability to even stand was a testament to his fortitude. He looked about, realized that he was safe for the moment, then called upon the power of his god. "Strength to Persevere, oh Kord!", he cried, and he felt the divine power flow through him and outward, closing his wounds.
Pax also felt the healing power of the god of strength, and fought against it. "No!", he cried. "I stand or I fall with honor. No quarter asked and none given!" His wounds closed none the less, though he had rejected much of what was offered.
And the battle raged on.
Siri, hearing Pax' resolve, chose not to land behind Sir Irons. Pax might need the help, but he'd never forgive her if she provided it.
She surveyed the field, looking for another likely target. Even getting close to the huge Half-Ogre could be the last mistake of her life. There really wasn't a way to do that without eating steel, and she knew it. Shade had no one engaging him, so no chance of sliding a blade into some unguarded ribs, and Cyrano seemed content with what he was doing. She decided to wait for an opportunity.</Story>
<Commentary>Yes, Cure Light - Mass was cast specifically to help Pax, and the character made his Will save to reduce the effect by half. The player/character earned an Exp bonus for that move, because it's exactly the right thing for the character to do, even though it could mean his death. Good role playing like that is a rare thing and deserves recognition. Presuming the PC lives to collect it, of course.
The business of Cyrano and the other NPC on the roof was simple: They had an arcane caster, but as the DM I knew that the PCs didn't. Their Wiz' was out of play, the DM's character, and relegated to NPC status for the duration. So I balanced the field a bit by simply declaring that the two casters were wrestling, an act that does little or no real damage but makes spell casting all but impossible.</Commentary>
<Story>"Strength of Kord!", cried Ferguson, again invoking the power of his god. Kord answered and the cleric felt his muscles and form swell with that power. He now stood as a giant on the field, taller and more massive than the mighty Half Ogre. And now, even without moving the dancing Shade was within the reach of his blade.
Shade was the quicker though and sprang backwards into a quick flip, evading the towering Cleric's great blade, while drawing a fresh arrow as he moved.
The bow sang it's song and lightning sprang from it to find a home in that huge form, drawing yet another look of shock from the Cleric.
Ignus had retreated from the courtyard when the battle began in earnest, no longer finding death and destruction entertaining. He stepped inside the front chamber of his own manor house, where its magical defenses could protect him.
And across the field a booming voice sounded in the minds of all: "Well, Ignus, you do make a guest feel welcome." It was Fireheart, standing tall over even the towering Half Ogre. His arms were folded, his blade at rest in his scabbard.
"You broke the Sultan's law!", accused the lesser Efreet. "You sent mercenaries to kill me, and the Sultan forbade that."
"These?", Fireheart chuckled. "They don't work for me. I've given them neither pay nor promise of payment. Their leader there", he added, indicating Sir Pax, "He can barely stand my presence, his fury is so intense. He wouldn't take an order from me even if I though to give one."
Ignus backed deeper into the room, crying, "Janni, attend me!" A small throng of the muscular guards, who had been caught up watching the battle, flocked to his defense, setting a perimeter of flesh, bone, magic and steel around their master. And Ignus looked at the field before him and realized that they wouldn't be enough.
He started to cry out again, but no sound emerged from his lips. And in everyone's mind, Fireheart roared with mirth.
Ivan had fallen to his knees, dropping his great sword to the ground and bowing to Mash. He had had enough.
Shade, knowing that he was seriously overmatched, darted towards the building and around a corner. When Ardan peered over the edge all he saw was smoke and fire. His foe had disappeared.
And spells were raining into that front room, blasts of blistering cold and blinding light. Ignus kept trying to say something but couldn't. He turned to flee but the doors behind him wouldn't open. And he knew the strength of those doors because he'd had them built as part of his home's defense.
"They really don't work for me, nor will they obey any order I give", Fireheart called out, his voice heard in all the minds present. "But I might be able to intercede on your behalf. But you had best decide soon, because they really won't stop just because I ask."
Ignus voice rolled out within their minds as well, but his words would have scorched the earth even if it was already on fire.
A burst of pure sunlight erupted from the room, and several of the Janni staggered, clutching at their dazzled eyes.
"What are your terms?", Ignus asked.
"Simple. You agree to pay your debts to your own mercenaries, you agree to relinquish all of your claimed lands to me, and you admit to your crimes."
Ignus hesitated long enough for an arrow to sprout from his chest, then quickly agreed.
"The battle is over!", declared Fireheart. "By my word, all slaves are to be released and all debts to be paid."
Suddenly the flames of the battlefield swirled high all around them and all present found themselves in a grand hall.
All except Sir Pax and Sir Michael, whose weapons crashed and rang against each other unabated. It took them several seconds to realize that they weren't on that field of fire and blood.
The Janni present immediately fell to their knees and bowed forward, their faces to the floor.
Fireheart turned to face the Sultan, whose hall they were in, dropped to one knee and bowed deeply (though not so deeply as the Janni had.)
Even sitting upon his grand throne, the Sultan of the City of Brass was taller than even Firehear. He looked at the two knights standing before him and waved encouragement. "I always find blood and rage amusing. Pray continue."
When they didn't, and Sir Michael went to a knee, the sultan looked mildly disappointed. The he turned his attention upon Fireheart.
"I gave specific orders about your dispute, and you ignored them. Is there any reason i should not have you struck down right now?"
Fireheart smiled and bowed even lower. "Your orders were indeed specific. That we should settle the territorial dispute between ourselves. We were forbidden any violence between ourselves, including violence between our servants, slaves, minions or hirelings."
The huge Efreet then looke up with a smile. I have obeyed your law to the letter. Neither I nor any who serve me in any capacity have shed a drop of blood nor struck any blow against Ignus or any who serve him."
The Sultan frowned. "And yet there is battle and blood. Explain!"
"None of these combatants serve me.", Fireheart began. "I informed my friend of Ignus perfidy, but I offered these no payment. No monies were promised, nor favors or services were offered, nor were any debts they might owe me to be forgiven. When it became clear that they intended to intrude on our disagreement I went so far as to beg thhem to be merciful, and you know that for one such as I to beg anything from fleshlings is no small thing."
"That word you used, 'friend'. What is that?", queried the Sultan. He had had to use the Common word "friend" for there was no such word in the language of fire.
"A 'friend' is a person who might choose to help you when you need it, without payment nor counting of debt. As their friend you might choose to help them on occasion, but then again you might choose not to. No payment, no contract, all strictly voluntary."
The Sultan was aghast. "Service without payment? How can such a thing be? Which of you is the master, if both can serve the other?"
Fireheart tried to explain further, but it became clear that the Sultan couldn't believe such a thing was real. However it was also clear that he understood that it was real among "fleshlings".
He then turned to Ignus, who had remained silent to this point. "What of you? Why did you engage these mercenaries, if not to battle Lord Fireheart?", he demanded, making a point to acknowledge Fireheart's rank.
"I feared that he might find some way to subvert your very just ruling.", Ignus replied, still looking at the floor. "Had I not done so I would surely have been slain."
The Sultan then, finally, looked at the mortals in his hall. "Who is your leader?", he asked. "Who speaks for you?"
Both sides pointed towards the two knights.
"Which side struck the first blow?", the Sultan asked impatiently.
"By agreement, and in accordance with our laws, we struck together.", Sir Michael replied. Pax agreed, "Sir Michael and I are rivals of old, and met in battle as equals should. It is the way of our orders."
The Sultan's impatience became more apparent, as he didn't seem to be getting the answers he wanted.
Pointing to Pax, who had last spoken, he asked, "Which of these two do you work for?"
Pax looked askew that Fireheart and had to admit, "Neither. I'd die before I would agree to serve either one. I came here because that one", he almost spat at Ignus, "had stolen land and taken slaves."
"But Lord Fireheart also holds slaves. Why be offended by one and not the other?"
Fireheart advanced slightly, "I hold no slaves, great Sultan. I freed al of mine and forbade any of my subjects from holding any. Any who serve me do so by choice." Seeing the look of disbelief on the Sultan's face, he quickly continued. "It is the way of these fleshlings, and though I don't truly understand it, it does seem to work for them. I made this decision as a gesture to my friend", he said, indicating Cyrano, "but independent of any decision or action of his friends and companions."
The Sultan sat back, and smiled. "Well played, Lord Fireheart. I will have to be more careful in my rulings. I trust that you and Ignus have reached terms?"
Fireheart smiled in return, not the forced smile of a subject in the halls of his lord, but the smile of success. "He has agreed to pay his debts, both to his servants and those he hired. He also agreed to turn over all disputed lands to me, and to pay the penalty of the Sultan's law for his crimes." </Story>
I'm going to end it there. In my view of a Lawful Evil society, such as the Efreet of the Plane of Fire, the concept of a "friend" is a foreign one. That's how Fireheart tip-toed around the Sultan's orders.
I left one PC out of the narrative completely. The party Druid had taken the form of a Fire Elemental, which was excellent cover for the scene. I also left out any other mention of their Cleric after his first spell. The cast of characters was pretty large and I didn't want to make the tale more of a jumble than it already was.
Ignus ended up being imprisoned in the same magic ring that he had used to imprison Fireheart. The party asked what would happen to that ring. If Ignus was bound within until he had provided three services for a mortal, he could be back as soon as the next day.
Fireheart confirmed that those were the terms, but also explained that he had no intention of ever leaving that ring where a mortal could find it.
The PCs knew that they'd been used, but the full details of how badly they'd been used only came out at the very end. All of his gestures and concessions had been empty. He could free his slaves, but unless they had some way to walk for two days to the city, across the flaming landscape of the Plane of Fire, they couldn't actually leave his estates. They had to work for their food and upkeep jus as they had before.
Even when the party realized this and he relented, offering them safe passage to the city, he knew they'd be back. Humans walking in that city were always presumed to belong to someone, and without money they could neither eat nor find shelter, and they certainly couldn't afford a trip back to the Material plane.
Under pressure from the party he offered to send the word through that quarter for those humans to gather at a place called "The Details" (an inn, of sorts) within the next three days. The PCs planned to ferry them all home. Of course, few if any will come to Fireheart's call, so they're still screwed.
Yeah, the "nice guy" thing was an act all the way. Still, he is the legendary "lesser of two evils", compared to dealing with other Efreet. He actually has seen that there is value in this "friendship" thing, and does defer somewhat to the wishes of the Paladin of Freedom.
And thus ends the tale. I hope that you've all enjoyed it.
Greenfield
Adventurer
A few final, technical notes.
Ignus had three rings of Forbidance set within his manor house. No teleport, plane shift, D-Door etc, unless someone spoke the password. And anyone who wasn't Lawful Evil who entered would take damage.
Fireheart, from across the field, cast Silence into that front room, and had already Wizard Locked the door. (yes, he has character levels on top of the straight Efreet package.) Ignus had both Plane Shift and Ethereal Jaunt available, but once the Silence landed he couldn't speak the pass phrase to use them. And the Silence all but filled that front room.
Shade is a Scout and his bow has the Shock property. When activated the bow crackles with electricity. So do his arrows, which is why the "like a lightning bolt" description kept coming up. I know it's just a D6, but the imagery was just too good to pass up.
Scouts, for those unfamiliar with the Prestige Class, contrate on one shot per round. They have to move 10 feet in the round, so they get only that one shot, but it gets extra damage based on the Scout level.
Final bit of humor: The big guy's full name was Ivan the Trebble (not a misspelling). He'd been named by Blaze. Though truly a Rogue and not a Bard at all, she used "profession: musician" as a cover story. After all, anybody who advertises that they're a "thief" quickly lands in jail, or missing a hand. I'd always figured that a Rogue needed a cover like that. That's why Disguise is an in-class skill for them. She had ranks in Perform, and could probably have made an okay living as a performer if she needed to.
Ivan was built by taking an Orc (+4 Strength with Int and CHA penalties) and adding the Half Ogre template. (Bonus to Strength with Int and CHA penalties. Then add the Feral template (both of the templates are from Savage Species), which grants Fast Heal and even more Strength (with Int and Cha penalties), and you have one mean mofo combat machine. He'll have the IQ of a cantaloupe, but he'll be hell on wheels in melee. Add in some Barbarian levels and he's an unholy terror. Each of those templates is a +1 ECL, so considering the result it's a good trade off.
Yeah, the INT sucks, but all of these say that it can't drop below a 3, so at some point more penalties become meaningless. He's the classic "Big, dumb fighter". type, taken to the extreme.
Oh, and that hollow log he used tohold his great sword? That's his "drum" when he performs with Blaze. It's a way to get towns to let him inside. Besides, hitting things really is the only way he can be musical.
Ignus had three rings of Forbidance set within his manor house. No teleport, plane shift, D-Door etc, unless someone spoke the password. And anyone who wasn't Lawful Evil who entered would take damage.
Fireheart, from across the field, cast Silence into that front room, and had already Wizard Locked the door. (yes, he has character levels on top of the straight Efreet package.) Ignus had both Plane Shift and Ethereal Jaunt available, but once the Silence landed he couldn't speak the pass phrase to use them. And the Silence all but filled that front room.
Shade is a Scout and his bow has the Shock property. When activated the bow crackles with electricity. So do his arrows, which is why the "like a lightning bolt" description kept coming up. I know it's just a D6, but the imagery was just too good to pass up.
Scouts, for those unfamiliar with the Prestige Class, contrate on one shot per round. They have to move 10 feet in the round, so they get only that one shot, but it gets extra damage based on the Scout level.
Final bit of humor: The big guy's full name was Ivan the Trebble (not a misspelling). He'd been named by Blaze. Though truly a Rogue and not a Bard at all, she used "profession: musician" as a cover story. After all, anybody who advertises that they're a "thief" quickly lands in jail, or missing a hand. I'd always figured that a Rogue needed a cover like that. That's why Disguise is an in-class skill for them. She had ranks in Perform, and could probably have made an okay living as a performer if she needed to.
Ivan was built by taking an Orc (+4 Strength with Int and CHA penalties) and adding the Half Ogre template. (Bonus to Strength with Int and CHA penalties. Then add the Feral template (both of the templates are from Savage Species), which grants Fast Heal and even more Strength (with Int and Cha penalties), and you have one mean mofo combat machine. He'll have the IQ of a cantaloupe, but he'll be hell on wheels in melee. Add in some Barbarian levels and he's an unholy terror. Each of those templates is a +1 ECL, so considering the result it's a good trade off.
Yeah, the INT sucks, but all of these say that it can't drop below a 3, so at some point more penalties become meaningless. He's the classic "Big, dumb fighter". type, taken to the extreme.
Oh, and that hollow log he used tohold his great sword? That's his "drum" when he performs with Blaze. It's a way to get towns to let him inside. Besides, hitting things really is the only way he can be musical.
Greenfield
Adventurer
I used to record our campaigns in story all the time. The dramatic elements and scene setting, shared with the group, helped keep the story line, I don't know, colorful. I think it inspired the other people at the table to keep "It makes good story" in mind as they played.
At some point I stopped. Not really sure why.
Son of the Serpent
Pupil
Excellent dm'ing. Never change.
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