Greenfield
Adventurer
The title isn't a serious question by the way. It's just a sort of introduction.
We just finished our weekly game session, and to my surprise I was still the DM. This is the game where the Golden One cleric reported the party to the church of Zeus for their deal with a Devil, and where the Petal Warlock claimed that the blast shape invocation Eldritch Glaive was a light weapon, so he could use it while grappled by a Dragon. This is also the game where the party traveled back in time to Pompeii, just before the volcano destroyed it, to collect the Dagger of Helios before it could be lost with the city.
In a previous session that lead up to the battle with the Dragon, they had traveled on a road from Illium (near ancient Troy, in what is now Turkey) to a nearby salt mine. They encountered on that road a pair of wagons heavily loaded with salt. They knew that the mines were worked by prisoners, and that generally these prisoners probably deserved their fate. The mines were, in essence, a prison camp producing a strategic resource, under control of the Roman military.
The lead officer escorting the salt (remember, salt is priced like silver) challenged them, demanding to know why they were on the road that lead only to the salt mine. One of them lied, saying that they had permission from the military commander in Illium. It turns out they also had an Imperial writ granting them the freedom of the roads. They were allowed to pass.
After fighting the dragon and his rider, the group was returning to Illium, and they encountered the same wagons, this time laden with supplies for the mine. The same commander challenged them again. And this time he knew that they had no such permission. He had checked.
The supply caravan headed on while the party leader accompanied that officer back to Illium, to clear things up. The party leader, being a Barbarian Prince (i.e. a man of rank and station, even if it wasn't official in the Empire), had had dealings with this commander before, and they were on good terms.
The officer announced himself, and reported that he had a "prisoner" to take to the commander. The rest of the party was about town on their own business.
The commander agreed that the PC had lied, but also acknowledged that he was a man in good standing with the Empire. He asked if any trouble had been reported at the mine, and the officer admitted that he didn't know. It being about a day's travel from the mine to Illium, no word of trouble had reached them. The commander ordered the PC and his companions to stay in town until it was confirmed that they had caused no problems.
After the officer left, the commander raised up a piece of paper. He said, "I haven't read these yet, but when I do this one will report that you and your companions
are charged, by the Temple of Jupiter and Caesar himself with raiding a holy site, while people were worshiping, slaying a number of the people there, and stealing away a holy relict. It further accuses you of being in league with a Devil, and planning to sell that relic to this Devil." He watched the PCs face as he read the charges. The PC tried to tip-toe around the meat of the matter, while staying factually accurate.
I rolled the commander's Sense Motive. The dice came up 20, and he had some skill at this. He knew that the PC was trying to hide things. (The PC also rolled a natural 20 on his Bluff, but he only had 3 points in it).
The players around the table were laughing like mad as the player tried to extricate himself from this. When the commander asked him, straight out, if there was any truth to this, or was it another false order, as he had seen before.
The player said, "I myself wasn't present when my companions did those things, but..."
The rest was lost in player laughter, as the PC essentially signed their death warrants. In Roman times, there was no distinction between church and state. They were one and the same, and in admitting to the charges, he had pretty much confessed to one of the worst crimes imaginable.
The commander's face fell. He didn't want to have to execute his friend. He said, "I won't actually read these until sometime tomorrow. Don't let me catch you trying to leave town before we've heard back from the salt mines."
In game, the previous Caesar had been the party's friend. He had gone missing (a plot line under another DM) and the new Caesar had put out an unofficial contract on the party, hiring assassins to try to do us in. The word fromthe church had given him the excuse he needed to make the hit official.
What's funny is that, in his exaggerated version of the charges, he actually described events pretty accurately.
So now the party is running for their lives, and enjoying every second of it. And the only way to get the writ of execution lifted is to get back to Rome, find the previous Caesar, who is in hiding, and get rid of the current one.
Since each DM controls a different part of the world, and Rome isn't mine to play with, I don't get to settle that point. I did check witht eh guy who runs that area, and he said that this was fine. It was more or less what we had to do anyway.
We had no actual battles this session, as I had been dropped back into the DM's chair cold. But the players had a rollicking good time watching ther character's positions in the game world being smashed to bits.
So, why is it that times when someone puts their foot in their mouth, severely, and causes seemingly endless amounts of trouble, that these game sessions seem to be the ones players enjoy the most?
We just finished our weekly game session, and to my surprise I was still the DM. This is the game where the Golden One cleric reported the party to the church of Zeus for their deal with a Devil, and where the Petal Warlock claimed that the blast shape invocation Eldritch Glaive was a light weapon, so he could use it while grappled by a Dragon. This is also the game where the party traveled back in time to Pompeii, just before the volcano destroyed it, to collect the Dagger of Helios before it could be lost with the city.
In a previous session that lead up to the battle with the Dragon, they had traveled on a road from Illium (near ancient Troy, in what is now Turkey) to a nearby salt mine. They encountered on that road a pair of wagons heavily loaded with salt. They knew that the mines were worked by prisoners, and that generally these prisoners probably deserved their fate. The mines were, in essence, a prison camp producing a strategic resource, under control of the Roman military.
The lead officer escorting the salt (remember, salt is priced like silver) challenged them, demanding to know why they were on the road that lead only to the salt mine. One of them lied, saying that they had permission from the military commander in Illium. It turns out they also had an Imperial writ granting them the freedom of the roads. They were allowed to pass.
After fighting the dragon and his rider, the group was returning to Illium, and they encountered the same wagons, this time laden with supplies for the mine. The same commander challenged them again. And this time he knew that they had no such permission. He had checked.
The supply caravan headed on while the party leader accompanied that officer back to Illium, to clear things up. The party leader, being a Barbarian Prince (i.e. a man of rank and station, even if it wasn't official in the Empire), had had dealings with this commander before, and they were on good terms.
The officer announced himself, and reported that he had a "prisoner" to take to the commander. The rest of the party was about town on their own business.
The commander agreed that the PC had lied, but also acknowledged that he was a man in good standing with the Empire. He asked if any trouble had been reported at the mine, and the officer admitted that he didn't know. It being about a day's travel from the mine to Illium, no word of trouble had reached them. The commander ordered the PC and his companions to stay in town until it was confirmed that they had caused no problems.
After the officer left, the commander raised up a piece of paper. He said, "I haven't read these yet, but when I do this one will report that you and your companions
are charged, by the Temple of Jupiter and Caesar himself with raiding a holy site, while people were worshiping, slaying a number of the people there, and stealing away a holy relict. It further accuses you of being in league with a Devil, and planning to sell that relic to this Devil." He watched the PCs face as he read the charges. The PC tried to tip-toe around the meat of the matter, while staying factually accurate.
I rolled the commander's Sense Motive. The dice came up 20, and he had some skill at this. He knew that the PC was trying to hide things. (The PC also rolled a natural 20 on his Bluff, but he only had 3 points in it).
The players around the table were laughing like mad as the player tried to extricate himself from this. When the commander asked him, straight out, if there was any truth to this, or was it another false order, as he had seen before.
The player said, "I myself wasn't present when my companions did those things, but..."
The rest was lost in player laughter, as the PC essentially signed their death warrants. In Roman times, there was no distinction between church and state. They were one and the same, and in admitting to the charges, he had pretty much confessed to one of the worst crimes imaginable.
The commander's face fell. He didn't want to have to execute his friend. He said, "I won't actually read these until sometime tomorrow. Don't let me catch you trying to leave town before we've heard back from the salt mines."
In game, the previous Caesar had been the party's friend. He had gone missing (a plot line under another DM) and the new Caesar had put out an unofficial contract on the party, hiring assassins to try to do us in. The word fromthe church had given him the excuse he needed to make the hit official.
What's funny is that, in his exaggerated version of the charges, he actually described events pretty accurately.
So now the party is running for their lives, and enjoying every second of it. And the only way to get the writ of execution lifted is to get back to Rome, find the previous Caesar, who is in hiding, and get rid of the current one.
Since each DM controls a different part of the world, and Rome isn't mine to play with, I don't get to settle that point. I did check witht eh guy who runs that area, and he said that this was fine. It was more or less what we had to do anyway.
We had no actual battles this session, as I had been dropped back into the DM's chair cold. But the players had a rollicking good time watching ther character's positions in the game world being smashed to bits.
So, why is it that times when someone puts their foot in their mouth, severely, and causes seemingly endless amounts of trouble, that these game sessions seem to be the ones players enjoy the most?
