Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Longish Update, with some good Rat Bastardry
Just an update for the three of you out there who care...
The campaign progresses. Here's the campaign arc:
The Lost City of Barakus (Necromancer)
The Vault of Larin Karr (Necromancer)
Queen of Lies (Fiery Dragon)
Crypt of the Devil Lich (Goodman Games)
The PCs took care of business in the Quail Valley. By the time they headed for the hobgoblin-infested keep, they were about 5th/6th level.
I'd previously decided that this was a "status quo" campaign, which worked great for me when I ambushed the PCs with a hill giant, but now the shoe was on the other foot. A few fireballs from the gnome sorceror and the remaining hobgoblins were little threat.
Indeed, the biggest threat in the keep was the ochre jelly locked in the stables, despite the fact that it only managed to kill the sorceror's little rat familiar. "Scout the stables!" they said. My gnome player, the newbiest of my gaming newbs, didn't know any better, and sent her rat to its doom.
But I didn't dangle any further hooks at them, so with the keep secured, they headed back to Barakus.
Twice, the drow sent assassins to recapture the Crown and the other pieces from the party. The PCs fought them off every time, so I decided the drow would try another approach.
Once back in Endhome, a mysterious agent (a doppleganger) approached the PCs, on behalf of the drow, willing to trade the 3rd key for the Crown. The agent assured the PCs that the trade was up and up, and that it would take place on neutral ground.
So the PCs reasoned that the 3rd piece was nearby, ready for the trade.
A little bit of math ensued. "If I cast Locate Object and Fly on myself," reasoned the party wizard, "How much of the city can I scan?"
Unfortunately I had to admit, he'd be able to pretty much cover the whole city, so in due course the wizard located the 3rd piece in the Wizard's Academy.
Aha. The neutral ground.
The PCs tried to persuade the head wizard to betray the drow and just turn over the 3rd piece. The head wizard had a few competing concerns. First, to maintain the neutral reputation of the Academy. Second, to see the PCs succeed in destroying the lich Devron. Third, to make sure that the Crown-- in actuality Devron's Helm of Power-- would no way, no how end up back in the lich's clutches.
So for the greater good, he agreed to "loan" the PCs the third key, in exchange for the Crown, in advance of actually making the trade-- but the PCs were to get in to Barakus, destroy the lich, and return with the key before the actual trade was to take place. This way, the PCs would no longer need the key, and they could simply refuse the trade, keeping the Crown out of the hands of the drow.
Everyone pretty much agreed that if the drow wanted the Crown, then they sure as hell shouldn't have it.
The PCs headed back into Barakus. They used the third key-- finally-- to empower the Sword of Kell, which would be used to slay the lich. The paladin (recently prestiged into Hunter of the Dead-- I told him some good would come of losing those levels to the vampire...) would wield the magic greatsword.
They headed down to Devron's prison. The wards that trapped the lich asked the usual questions:
"Have you the sword?" YES!
"How many torches have you lit?" THREE!
"What is your quest?" TO SLAY THE LICH!
And in they went...
Devron's prison is not a complex location. Just a few caves, although large, linked by secret doors. The party easily bested a few ghouls and encountered "The Imposter."
The imposter is, for lack of a better description, an undead doppleganger. Various forms of non-detection prevented the paladin/Hunter from confirming that the imposter was either evil or undead.
The imposter, appearing as a very old female elf, put forth the story that she was the last surviving member of a party who had destroyed Devron. She pointed out the scene of the battle. She pointed out the graves of her companions. She pointed out the tattered cloak, the last remains of the lich.
The party asked how it was that she, a mere rogue, had managed to finish off the lich, while her companions had perished. What kind of firepower could a rogue bring to bear that could possibly defeat a powerful undead wizard that had already killed her four companions?
I was in a bit of a corner, here. It was a damn good question. And then, I came up with an excuse that no party-- this party, in particular-- could possibly doubt:
"Alchemist's Fire," she answered sheepishly.
She begged the party to take her out. She answered all their questions. She even agreed to be manacled while she was led out.
It was a rock solid performance.
Everybody was won over.
Everybody except the paladin. "She's the lich," he announced. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."
And so without any warning the paladin suddenly attacked her-- an old, feeble, manacled female elf-- with his lich-slaying greatsword.
And just to make sure, he SMITED her.
She didn't last two rounds-- and that even with the rest of the party just standing around watching in stunned horror.
To say that the paladin was dejected when his foe was dead-- and clearly not the lich-- would be an understatement.
"I feel sick," he said. "I was sure."
"To be fair," I admitted, "that thing now dead on the floor is some kind of shapechanger. So even if it wasn't the lich, at least you summarily executed a liar."
"And," I said, "You don't feel as if you've lost your paladinhood."
Meanwhile the lich Devron, invisible and flying above, is just watching and letting his gambit play out.
So the party searches around for a while. No sign of the lich. Nothing really conclusive, though.
As they depart the Prison, the wards ask each PC of good alignment a final question:
To the paladin, "Is he dead?" "I'm not sure."
To the gnome sorcerer, "Is he dead?" "I don't know."
To the fighter, "Is he dead?"
"Say yes!" the wizard suggests.
"Uhh... YES!" says the fighter.
And with that, the prison wards collapsed.
Now for a bit of fun. The cackling laughter fills the room. "WHERE IS MY HELM OF POWER?" the lich demands.
I feeling like a knife of ice pierces each PCs mind...
I hand each player a piece of paper. "Make a Will save, and write down the result. And also write down the three things you most don't want the lich to know right now."
Ok, a bit unfair. I just wanted the players to experience this, "Quick! Don't think of an Elephant" moment.
The location of the crown was the crowd favorite, although I did have one player (the paladin) earn a few extra xp by writing down, "I am thinking 'I hope he doesn't turn into the Stay Puft marshmallow man...'"
So the lich is now loose... and he wants his Helm of Power.
Unfortunately the drow want it, too... I'll update that later.
Just an update for the three of you out there who care...
The campaign progresses. Here's the campaign arc:
The Lost City of Barakus (Necromancer)
The Vault of Larin Karr (Necromancer)
Queen of Lies (Fiery Dragon)
Crypt of the Devil Lich (Goodman Games)
The PCs took care of business in the Quail Valley. By the time they headed for the hobgoblin-infested keep, they were about 5th/6th level.
I'd previously decided that this was a "status quo" campaign, which worked great for me when I ambushed the PCs with a hill giant, but now the shoe was on the other foot. A few fireballs from the gnome sorceror and the remaining hobgoblins were little threat.
Indeed, the biggest threat in the keep was the ochre jelly locked in the stables, despite the fact that it only managed to kill the sorceror's little rat familiar. "Scout the stables!" they said. My gnome player, the newbiest of my gaming newbs, didn't know any better, and sent her rat to its doom.
But I didn't dangle any further hooks at them, so with the keep secured, they headed back to Barakus.
Twice, the drow sent assassins to recapture the Crown and the other pieces from the party. The PCs fought them off every time, so I decided the drow would try another approach.
Once back in Endhome, a mysterious agent (a doppleganger) approached the PCs, on behalf of the drow, willing to trade the 3rd key for the Crown. The agent assured the PCs that the trade was up and up, and that it would take place on neutral ground.
So the PCs reasoned that the 3rd piece was nearby, ready for the trade.
A little bit of math ensued. "If I cast Locate Object and Fly on myself," reasoned the party wizard, "How much of the city can I scan?"
Unfortunately I had to admit, he'd be able to pretty much cover the whole city, so in due course the wizard located the 3rd piece in the Wizard's Academy.
Aha. The neutral ground.
The PCs tried to persuade the head wizard to betray the drow and just turn over the 3rd piece. The head wizard had a few competing concerns. First, to maintain the neutral reputation of the Academy. Second, to see the PCs succeed in destroying the lich Devron. Third, to make sure that the Crown-- in actuality Devron's Helm of Power-- would no way, no how end up back in the lich's clutches.
So for the greater good, he agreed to "loan" the PCs the third key, in exchange for the Crown, in advance of actually making the trade-- but the PCs were to get in to Barakus, destroy the lich, and return with the key before the actual trade was to take place. This way, the PCs would no longer need the key, and they could simply refuse the trade, keeping the Crown out of the hands of the drow.
Everyone pretty much agreed that if the drow wanted the Crown, then they sure as hell shouldn't have it.
The PCs headed back into Barakus. They used the third key-- finally-- to empower the Sword of Kell, which would be used to slay the lich. The paladin (recently prestiged into Hunter of the Dead-- I told him some good would come of losing those levels to the vampire...) would wield the magic greatsword.
They headed down to Devron's prison. The wards that trapped the lich asked the usual questions:
"Have you the sword?" YES!
"How many torches have you lit?" THREE!
"What is your quest?" TO SLAY THE LICH!
And in they went...
Devron's prison is not a complex location. Just a few caves, although large, linked by secret doors. The party easily bested a few ghouls and encountered "The Imposter."
The imposter is, for lack of a better description, an undead doppleganger. Various forms of non-detection prevented the paladin/Hunter from confirming that the imposter was either evil or undead.
The imposter, appearing as a very old female elf, put forth the story that she was the last surviving member of a party who had destroyed Devron. She pointed out the scene of the battle. She pointed out the graves of her companions. She pointed out the tattered cloak, the last remains of the lich.
The party asked how it was that she, a mere rogue, had managed to finish off the lich, while her companions had perished. What kind of firepower could a rogue bring to bear that could possibly defeat a powerful undead wizard that had already killed her four companions?
I was in a bit of a corner, here. It was a damn good question. And then, I came up with an excuse that no party-- this party, in particular-- could possibly doubt:
"Alchemist's Fire," she answered sheepishly.
She begged the party to take her out. She answered all their questions. She even agreed to be manacled while she was led out.
It was a rock solid performance.
Everybody was won over.
Everybody except the paladin. "She's the lich," he announced. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."
And so without any warning the paladin suddenly attacked her-- an old, feeble, manacled female elf-- with his lich-slaying greatsword.
And just to make sure, he SMITED her.
She didn't last two rounds-- and that even with the rest of the party just standing around watching in stunned horror.
To say that the paladin was dejected when his foe was dead-- and clearly not the lich-- would be an understatement.
"I feel sick," he said. "I was sure."
"To be fair," I admitted, "that thing now dead on the floor is some kind of shapechanger. So even if it wasn't the lich, at least you summarily executed a liar."
"And," I said, "You don't feel as if you've lost your paladinhood."
Meanwhile the lich Devron, invisible and flying above, is just watching and letting his gambit play out.
So the party searches around for a while. No sign of the lich. Nothing really conclusive, though.
As they depart the Prison, the wards ask each PC of good alignment a final question:
To the paladin, "Is he dead?" "I'm not sure."
To the gnome sorcerer, "Is he dead?" "I don't know."
To the fighter, "Is he dead?"
"Say yes!" the wizard suggests.
"Uhh... YES!" says the fighter.
And with that, the prison wards collapsed.
Now for a bit of fun. The cackling laughter fills the room. "WHERE IS MY HELM OF POWER?" the lich demands.
I feeling like a knife of ice pierces each PCs mind...
I hand each player a piece of paper. "Make a Will save, and write down the result. And also write down the three things you most don't want the lich to know right now."
Ok, a bit unfair. I just wanted the players to experience this, "Quick! Don't think of an Elephant" moment.
The location of the crown was the crowd favorite, although I did have one player (the paladin) earn a few extra xp by writing down, "I am thinking 'I hope he doesn't turn into the Stay Puft marshmallow man...'"
So the lich is now loose... and he wants his Helm of Power.
Unfortunately the drow want it, too... I'll update that later.
