Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)

[wolff96]

I think I have a new favorite character...

Lazybones, your writing is amazing, as always. I really love the new character, Pel... I'm assuming that's a druid, but it could be a ranger, I suppose. Any chance of getting a character sheet?

Nice description of Fenrus (nice name!) by the way... although it seems their arrival made Benzan forget all about the need for more arrows.

Looking forward to more!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks guys. I reviewed my copy of Undermountain this weekend, and charted out a course for our doughty adventurers. They will visit some of the familiar places (though keep in mind, 3rd edition FR is set about 20 years later), but I can tell you that a lot of what will happen is going to take us to the un-keyed areas of those huge maps.

Wolff, I'll get Pelanther (and Fenrus!) statted up and on the Rogues' Gallery thread this week. My original conception for him was as a druid/ranger or druid/rogue, but I'm dithering because of the sacrifice of higher-level druid magic that this would require. What do you guys think?

Also, I should mention that I'll be gone for most of October (honeymoon in Hawaii, yay!), but I'm working on a "contingency plan" to keep the story thread active in my absence. Keep posted!

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Book VI, Part 8

The sounds of hammers and chisels hard at work in a dozen pairs of hands echoed through the caverns and tunnels of the Underdark. The halls of the urdunnir town, until recently haunted only by the eerie sounds of an undead infestation, now resounded with the busy noise of activity as the dwarves sought to rebuild their lives. There was not much laughter, or sounds of happiness, not yet. But that would come in time.

At the ruined fortification known as the Shield Wall, a party of deep dwarves was hard at work making repairs. This task was a high priority, for even though the duergar had been all but crushed by the companions from the surface world, the dwarves knew all too well that many other dangers lurked in this harsh realm. Lok had taken the unprecedented step of sending messages to other, distant settlements of the urdunnir, and even to the shield dwarves above, seeking aid as this community worked to rebuild. Normally the urdunnir were even more isolationist than most dwarves, eschewing contact with their neighbors, but in this case no one, even the most traditionalist of the elders, spoke in opposition to the genasi who had taken almost a legendary status among them.

Lok himself was mostly quiet, and he often spent time in solitude. That is not to say that he wasn’t an excellent leader; he provided direction and was always there to help when a particularly difficult project required his assistance. But inside he felt somewhat apart from this community, not fully part of these people, his people, despite all that he had done for them. Those he had most wanted to see, his mother most of all, were not to be found among the slaves that he and his companions had freed. The others spoke of the terrible time of the assault on their homeland and the even harsher days that followed, when many of their people died at the rough treatment of the duergar. The urdunnir vowed that this would never happen to them again, and one of the first things that they did upon returning was to stoke the forges and set to work crafting arms and armor. Lok spent much time there, using his skills to give his people the tools they would need to defend themselves.

This morning—though such terms were often meaningless this far under the ground—the workers at the Shield Wall were rebuilding the hinges that would support the massive pair of guardian portals. The entire community would join in the actual task of mounting the doors, which each would weigh many tons. One dwarven mason, still thin from his experiences as a slave, was crafting a pivot bolt with the help of two younger apprentices. He looked down at the device that he was shaping, not fully happy with its upper bevel. His expression grew focused as he reached down and with his hands pressed into the stone, molding it with the power of his mind and the empathy with the rock that was the heritage of his people.

It was exactly that skill that had made the urdunnir so valuable to the duergar in their mad plot to summon a god.

Within moments, work that would have taken hours using conventional tools was finished, and the mason smiled at his handiwork.

Then the sound came, disturbing his focus. The mason looked up, along with all of the other workers, their combined gazes drawn to the dark tunnel that ran off into forever.

The tunnel that they were working to ward against the many dangers that lurked beyond.

The sound came again, grew louder. It was still faint, but recognizable now as a combined babble, the sound of many voices, of movement.

“Sound the alert!” the stonemason shouted, as he and his fellow dwarves rushed into activity. Arms and armor were situated close by, in the case of just such an occasion, and the craftsmen became warriors as they quickly equipped themselves. Several of the younger apprentices were sent to alert the rest of the settlement, following the drills that they had already practiced many times under Lok’s direction. Within minutes, every dwarf in the urdunnir town would be preparing to deal with whatever threat was approaching from the dark ways of the Underdark.

The main entrance to the dwarf town was not entirely undefended, although the temporary barriers that the dwarves had created were not nearly as effective as the completed Shield Wall would be. A low trench had been excavated across the width of the passageway, to delay any assault, and at its far side a metal grating had been constructed across the entire passageway, filling the tunnel to half its height of fifteen feet, topped by a line of curving spikes that would make climbing it a dicey proposition.

The dwarves readied their weapons took up their prepared positions behind the grate, facing out into the darkness of the tunnel. Several knelt and pressed their ears down to the stone, trying to determine more about those who were approaching through their connection to the stone.

What they sensed became immediately obvious to all of them, as the noises became louder, building upon themselves through the strange acoustics of the Underdark. The faint voices became a confused medley, raining down a torrent of gibberish that held a distinct undertone of madness that all of those that had suffered at the hands of the duergar could identify with, at least on some level.

But the dwarves, hardened beyond the toughness of the stone they resembled by their ordeals, waited stoically for whatever was coming.

They did not have to wait long. Within two minutes the first crest of an onrushing wave of dark forms emerged at the edge of their darkvision, filling the tunnel in a crowd twenty feet abreast and many ranks deep. The creatures that comprised that horde were small, hairy, almost indistinguishable within the mass, their chaotic gibbering taking on a new intensity as they spotted the defenders.

Gibberlings, the humanoid equivalent of army ants, relentless and unstoppable save through death.

The first rank of defenders fired their crossbows through the grating into the onrushing horde. The bolts could hardly miss, but the few gibberlings that fell barely made a dent in the oncoming mass. There were hundreds of them, at least, the ranks of creatures running well back into the tunnel until they blended together in an indistinguishable seething mass.

The dwarves reloaded and kept firing, holding their positions even as the mad caterwauling coming from the rush of gibberlings threatened to break through even their stoic front. The defenders numbered ten dwarves, but they were outnumbered at least twenty to one by the attackers.

The gibberlings reached the trench, and without hesitation the wave poured into it without breaking. The creatures were canny climbers, using their own fellows as ladders as they filled the pit and pressed up the far side. An untold number were crushed by the fall or by the pressure of their own companions upon their bodies, but the horde paid no heed to its losses. If anything, now that they were nearly upon their prey their manner grew more fierce, more eager. The first few that clambered onto the grate died swiftly, run through by dwarven spears or impaling themselves on the sharp metal edges that had affixed to the defensive structure. But they came on, and the grating began to shake as more and more of the gibberlings clambered up onto it.

“Fall back!” one of the dwarves cried, and the dwarves retreated, falling back to the chamber behind them. Ahead of them lay the main corridor that ran up into the urdunnir town, only moments away from being filled with swarming gibberlings eager only to kill and destroy.

“Rally behind me!” a voice cried from that corridor, a bold voice that resolved into a figure that emerged into the chamber a few moments later. Its owner was a familiar form, clad entirely in plate armor, with a heavy shield forged from bluesteel on one arm, and a frost-rimmed battleaxe held at the ready by the other. Behind the warrior were several other armored dwarves, too few.

“Defensive wedge!” Lok cried, his presence alone bolstering them and fortifying them against their fear. The dwarves retreating from the Wall joined their comrades from the town and formed a double line that formed to a point, and at that point stood the mighty genasi fighter. The dwarven defender, champion of his people, chosen of a god.

The gibberlings had amassed enough numbers to push madly forward into the gate, and with a loud crash that echoed through the place it toppled heavily to the stone floor. More were crushed as the falling gate pinioned them against the floor, or were trampled by their allies rushing up from the pit, but that still left more than a hundred that came forward now in a disorganized but inexorable rush to battle.

Lok took one step forward, placing himself even more out in advance of his comrades, and squared himself in a defensive stance as he slammed the head of his axe down against the floor. The impact sent a single solid note through the chamber, as if stating with resolution, here I stand.

The dwarves gathered a final collective breath, steadying their courage, and then the wave crashed down upon them.

 

[Maldur]

Now thats what I call a dwarven defender!!


ps Dont worry about oktober, Im on vacation as well Egypt, might not have as much beach, but much more sand!

 

[wolff96]

I'd like to vote for pure class druid.

Considering that I'm currently playing a druid, I might be just a bit biased, though...

I, too, went with the Dire Wolf. My dwarven druid (whose clan was destroyed) really identifies with the image of the lone wolf, though his understanding of nature eventually led him to realize that even a lone wolf seeks out a new pack -- thus he joined an adventuring party and now calls them his pack.

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Anyway, irrelevant character blather aside, it depends on what rules you're using.

If you use the rules updates from Masters of the Wild, then Pel needs to be at least a 6th level druid or 12th level ranger to have a 6HD animal companion, as the rules update says that a travelling druid can't have more than his Caster Level in animal companions (which means a ranger needs 2x his level).

My suggestion would be to also use the ritual rules from MotW and allow a higher level druid to advance his animal companions, rather than getting new ones all the time. This is what my DM has allowed me to do...

All that said, if you go pure-class druid, here are (from an old file of mine) the stats for a Dire Wolf that has been advanced to 11 HD. Also included for free (it was in the file) are the stats of an 11HD Dire Wolf that has had Animal Growth cast on him.

Advanced Dire Wolf
Large Animal
Hit Dice: 11d8+33 (82 hp)
Initiative: +2 (Dex)
Speed: 50 ft.
AC: 14 (-1 size, +2 Dex, +3 natural)
Attacks: Bite +15 melee
Damage: Bite 1d8+10
Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 10 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Trip
Special Qualities: Scent
Saves: Fort +10, Ref +9, Will +8
Abilities: Str 25, Dex 15, Con 17,
Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 10
Skills: Hide +5, Listen +6, Move Silently +5,
Spot +6, Wilderness Lore +1*

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Advanced Dire Wolf (Animal Growth)
Huge Animal
Hit Dice: 22d8 + 110 (209 hp)
Initiative: +1 (Dex)
Speed: 50 ft.
AC: 15 (-2 size, +1 Dex, +6 natural)
Attacks: Bite +26 melee
Damage: Bite 2d6 + 16
Face/Reach: 10 ft. by 30 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Trip
Special Qualities: Scent
Saves: Fort +18, Ref +14, Will +14
Abilities: Str 33, Dex 13, Con 21,
Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 10
Skills: Hide +4, Listen +6, Move Silently +4,
Spot +6, Wilderness Lore +1*

Obviously, all of this stuff is yours to take or leave. If you don't want it, I can also edit it out of the post to save space in your thread.

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Final note (I swear! ): My druid's favorite trick at level 11 was to summon 1d3 Dire Lions and then cast Animal Growth on the Lions and my animal companion.

If you have prep time, you can summon more animals and cast Animal Growth on all of them; after all, at level 11 you can use it on up to 5 animals. So if I had time (and the spells) before a fight, I would summon 1d3 dire lions and a dire bear and then animal growth the lions, the bear, and my advanced dire wolf.

NASTY!

 

[Lazybones]

All I can say, wolff, is.... suwheeeeeet.

Consider your ideas stolen. I'd already decided to make Fenrus advanced at least a few HD, and I do like the MotW errata (I'd always considered 2HD/level somewhat overpowered, especially once you start getting to the tougher dire animals). So I'll look at making Pel a single class druid and stat him out a little later this week.

 

[Horacio]

Wonderful description of Dwarven dire defense, really.
For October, if you have already written the story, you can send me it and I will post an update daily for you

 

[Lazybones]

Horacio, you read my mind...

I was thinking I could get a bit ahead and send you, say, 4-6 chapters, and you could post them for me over the two week period that I'll be on honeymoon. Not one every day, maybe one every two or three days. As the Ultimate Story Hour Addict, you deserve to know what happens in advance of everyone else...

It all depends on how slow things are here at work, of course, and how far I am able to write in the story.

I am trying to fold in some twists that even MasterOfHeaven cannot see coming. Book 6 is in many ways a "development" part of the story, with the party separated and the ongoing resolution of Delem's fate mixed in (we'll revisit him several times in the course of the book). Of course we'll have our share of action, especially in the Undermountain plotline. But all of the developing events will build into Book 7, where we are going to see some major events that will affect all of western Faerun, and of course all our heroes will be directly involved.

At the moment, my writer's block is gone and the stuff is pouring off my keyboard. Thanks to everyone who backed the story.

Lazy

P.S. Update later today; I need to make some corrections and edits.

 

[wolff96]

Update later today; I need to make some corrections and edits.

Excellent.

Also, congratulations and have a good time on your honeymoon. And how thoughtful to provide for the addicted on this message board during your absence! Such a gracious host...

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Glad you liked the tactics and bits from part of my druidic experience. Considering the reactions around the table when I announced my decision to play a druid -- loud groans for the most part -- I spend most of my time amazing the other players with just how powerful a druid really is if you do some thinking and planning ahead.

The druid -- IMO -- is one of the most underrated classes in the DMG. At mid to high levels, they come close to being unstoppable. Besides, what other class can run down a monk without magic? (Granted, it takes wildshape, but... )

 

[Lazybones]

For me, it was reading Sepulchrave's Heretic of Wyre thread that really drew me into the idea of a high-level druid. Nwm, to put it simply, rocks.

The Travels characters are fast approaching the higher levels of power, given that they are now in double-digits level-wise. Admittedly my multiclassing choices have cost some of them in terms of spell power, but as I've noted in earlier threads I've always put game power in second place to character development. Even so, Dana's ability to cast 5th level spells (including teleport, which she gets through her travel domain) will likely impact the story significantly, and Cal will join her up there pretty soon (he will probably take mage levels from here on out).

Thanks for the feedback, now here's today's update.

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Book VI, Part 9


Within the many-layered and twisting passages that made up the Underdark of Faerûn, a horde of gibberlings descended upon an embattled handful of dwarf warriors.

Lok let out a battlecry as his axe met the first surge of the gibberling assault. His first swing took down three of the loathsome creatures, their cries turning to squeals of pain as they bled out their lives upon the cold stone. Others flooded over their fallen compatriots, however, and surged into the stalwart genasi. The sheer impact of their assault would have felled most defenders, but Lok’s legs were planted on the stone as though roots had descended down from them into the depths of the earth below. Several gibberlings latched onto him, clawing with futility at his armored limbs and torso; they might as well have been scratching at the stone itself. A pair clambered up his left flank, scaling his shield as if it were the face of a great mountain. Others came at him from the right, wary of the axe that was already proven deadly. That wariness was demonstrated again as Lok swept the axe in a mighty swath that cleared his enemies like a farmer cutting overripe wheat with a scythe. More gibberlings fell, their blood mixing with those that had already fallen, their bodies forming a rampart around the warrior.

But still, they came on.

The onrushing wave had struck a stone wall in Lok, but it continued around him into his dwarven allies. The urdunnir line held, though, and their weapons—some forged by Lok himself—bit deeply into the mass of raging gibberlings. One dwarf staggered as a quartet of gibberlings leapt onto him, screaming and tearing; his companions tried to fight to him but were soon busy fighting off their own knots of foes. The hapless dwarf managed to dislodge one enemy, but then went down as still more creatures piled onto him, and he vanished in a blur of hairy bodies.

Lok, meanwhile, held his ground, and his axe spawned a storm of death around him. With each swing up to a half-dozen of the creatures went down, until their bodies formed a ring around him. Any rational foe would have retreated in the face of that implacable fury, but the gibberlings were beyond reason, driven mad in their lust for destruction.

They got what they wanted.

One gibberling leapt up over the bodies and screamed as it came down toward Lok’s helmeted head. Up came the shield, and the gibberling bounced off to the flank, hurled free by a single heave from the mighty warrior. The creature was cut down an instant later by another dwarf, but the momentary distraction cost Lok as a half-dozen more of the creatures leapt at his right side before he could bring his deadly axe around again. The creatures grappled him, three of them holding the arm bearing the axe, holding even his considerable strength at bay. The gibberlings babbled in triumph, and others surged in over the pile of bodies, anticipating the kill.

Their enthusiasm was a bit premature.

As the gibberlings on his right struggled to hold him, Lok shifted and slammed his shield into the faces of the ones attacking from directly ahead. Two went down, their faces a smashed ruin, but others grabbed onto the shield, trying to hold his other arm in place. This obliged Lok, who then slipped his arm from the shield straps and immediately drew his dagger. As the three gibberlings holding the shield fell awkwardly back, holding their fellows momentarily in check, Lok twisted and carved through the gibberlings holding his axe-arm with the dagger. One gibberling crumpled with half its neck torn through, and a second stumbled as blood filled its punctured lung. The last remaining one found that he could not hold the genasi’s arm alone, and a moment later was knocked back as Lok rammed the haft of his axe solidly into its face.

Still the gibberlings came on, crawling over bodies to reach their deaths. Lok was covered with blood, nearly all of it belonging to his enemies—other than a few bruises and scratches, he had not been seriously hurt. He planted his dagger in the chest of a nearby gibberling and took up the axe with both hands, hacking and slashing with mechanical efficiency until the world around him was a sea of red.

And then it was over. Finally, the reality of the toll being wreaked upon them had cut through the battle-madness of the gibberlings, activating some more primal instinct for survival. The broken remnant of the gibberling rush fled in pure terror from the foes, from the demon that had demolished their rush. Less than fifty survived to retreat back into the trackless tunnels of the Underdark, and never again would any of those survivors wander to within a league of this particular place, even years later.

The dwarves looked around in amazement, wondering at their survival against such odds. Of the sixteen that had formed the line behind Lok, four had fallen to the rush, and most of the rest sported wounds that ranged from minor to serious. Then their eyes turned to the armored figure that stood before them, covered in blood, surrounded by the hacked remains of his enemies. Many of the gibberling corpses were rimned in frost that was slowly melting in the hot air of the battlefield, their deadly wounds frozen open by the magical power of Lok’s axe.

Later, when they sorted out all the bodies for disposal, they would tally the slain of gibberling horde. Six had died in the tunnel, dropped by dwarven bolts or trampled by their fellows in the eagerness of their rush. Another forty had died in the trench or at the grating, and fully fifty more had been slain before the wedge formed by the defending dwarves.

But the largest group of dead had been clustered in the center of the passageway, lying in bloody heaps around a single point. Some of the piles reached nearly five feet in height. When they had unstacked all the bodies and counted them, they tallied fifty-six slain gibberlings whose deaths could be directly attributed to Lok’s attacks.

And so another day passed in the Underdark.

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EDIT: I've added Pelanther and Fenrus's stats to the Rogues' Gallery thread (link in sig).

 

[Broccli_Head]

Only 56! C'mon Lok, you can do better than that!

Hey where were the spellcasters? A few fireballs, flamestrikes, flaming spheres even would have helped...