Wulf's Collected Story Hour -- FINAL UPDATE 12/25
- Thread starter Wulf Ratbane
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Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Update today.
Milo Windby
First Post
Heroes of High Favor: Dwarves
Just wanted to chime in on the book, Wulf. It is excellent! I grabbed the last copy off the shelves of our local game store and clutched it all the way to the register, peering left and right to make sure no other greedy patrons would wrest the valuable object from my grasp.
Errrr, yeah. Anyway...
I like it, I love it, I want the next one. Dwarves have always been my favorite. Unfortunately I don't have a dwarven PC right now. I can now plan a right nasty on with your book though. My wife does have a dwarf right now, if only we can convince Frog to let your book into the campaign....
Just wanted to chime in on the book, Wulf. It is excellent! I grabbed the last copy off the shelves of our local game store and clutched it all the way to the register, peering left and right to make sure no other greedy patrons would wrest the valuable object from my grasp.
Errrr, yeah. Anyway...
I like it, I love it, I want the next one. Dwarves have always been my favorite. Unfortunately I don't have a dwarven PC right now. I can now plan a right nasty on with your book though. My wife does have a dwarf right now, if only we can convince Frog to let your book into the campaign....
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
I'm sure the book signing tour has Wulf all worn out ... it's tough being a celebrity! 
How long until Heroes of Low Favor: Halflings?
How long until Heroes of Low Favor: Halflings?
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Olgar Shiverstone said:I'm sure the book signing tour has Wulf all worn out ... it's tough being a celebrity!
How long until Heroes of Low Favor: Halflings?
Not long... at least not as publishers measure time.
I hope you all won't be terribly disappointed when the Halflings book rocks the house... I mean, come on, we're talking rogues here.
Wulf
Jeremy Ackerman-Yost
Explorer
Wulf Ratbane said:
Trust Wulf to teach the halflings to be useful...
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
LORD OF THE IRON FORTRESS-- Part VI
Back in their room in Rigus, Wulf was having trouble resting. Keldas hadn’t said a peep about his new staff, but it wasn’t as if he was being discreet about it, either-- there commenced a long and, in Wulf’s opinion, overly intimate inspection for what Wulf rightly asserted was a glorified walking stick. Naturally, when the elf volunteered to take a watch, Wulf volunteered to stay up with him. There was a warm spot in his belly nurtured by a healthy paranoia and the thought of having finally put those pricks Rourmed and Engram down for good.
The thought that Keldas was hiding something was titillating in its own right. Wulf hoped that the daggers he cut with his eyes would appear as no more than his usual disgust, though truthfully he admitted that there was little danger the elf would notice, rapt as he was with his staff.
The hair stood up on the back of Wulf’s neck and suddenly Keldas was looking into his eyes. “We’re being scried…” Keldas whispered.
“Wake up!” Wulf said-- or at least, he thought he said it, for a surreal, dreamlike state seemed to settle in. There appeared in the center of the room a tall, beautiful winged elf. The archon smiled, raised a long, fluted trumpet to its lips, and blew a shrill note.
“Yer don’t see that every day…” Wulf thought, as Keldas turned stark white and fled up into the corner of the ceiling, skittering like a spider. Come to think of it, he didn’t feel quite 100% himself. Still not quite sure what was going on-- yet fairly certain it would involve bloodshed-- Wulf downed a potion of haste, just in case.
Still wearing the same beatific smile-- no doubt that same smile reserved for the slaughtering of firstborn babes and similar missions-- the archon stretched forth his hand. Wide strokes of lightning leapt from his fingertips and scorched everyone in the room-- everyone, of course, except Wulf, who dodged out of the way, and the paladin’s boy, who seemed immune to its effect.
Without missing a beat, and moving with unearthly speed, the archon’s trumpet suddenly shifted and changed into an enormous greatsword. The archon seemed to laugh just a bit as a black bolt of destruction slithered down the blade and struck the boy full in the chest. Wulf had seen the effect before, and if the boy’s reaction was an indication of the spell being successfully resisted, he had no desire to see the spell’s full force.
Still not quite sure of himself, Wulf stammered once again for his comrades to get up, all the while pulling darts and daggers from the bandolier on his chest and hurling them ineffectively at the archon. The next moment, a female duergar appeared in the room, enlarged to twice her size and wearing the loose-fitting garb of a monk. Wulf sensed something else out there, as well, lurking invisibly amongst their other foes.
Karak finally managed to get to his feet, just in time to be set upon by the invisible creatures. Wulf could not see the attackers, but he recognized the arterial spray easily enough: nary a weak spot on Karak’s armor and anatomy was left unbloodied by the attack. The paladin staggered backwards and the boy sprang to his defense, changing form into a young bronze dragon as he positioned himself unerringly between his master and the invisible rogues.
Dorn was awake. Activating his boots of speed, he sprang to his feet and cast destruction on the archon-- to absolutely no effect.
Karak groaned something pitiful and slipped backwards, fumbling desperately to lay his healing hands on himself. Before the young dragon could retreat alongside him, the archon stepped forward and slashed twice across the dragon’s hide, opening deep wounds across his flank.
Wulf wanted nothing to do with the archon; he wondered vaguely if the two invisible rogues were of sufficient skill to bypass his own uncanny reflexes. Never one to take unnecessary chances, he grabbed Taranak in one hand and his chaos mace in the other, and attacked the female duergar.
“Yer gonna like this,” Wulf said, pounding the chaos mace into the monk’s unarmored body. He scored several good hits, sending the duergar into a desperate defense. The monk struck once at Wulf’s chest-- no doubt attempting a stunning strike, for all the good it would do her-- then thought better of that approach. She stepped back and downed a potion of invisibility.
Meanwhile, the rogues were relentless in their assault on the paladin. The dragon did his best to defend him, and the room echoed with screams of pain as its jaws bit down solidly on vulnerable flesh. Dorn rushed to his aid as well, casting a heal spell while swinging away wildly around him. “Fight!” Dorn yelled, trying to spur the paladin into something other than endless retreat.
Karak finally struck out-- a lucky shot. His sword crashed down solidly on the other rogue. Their cries of alarm bought Wulf a little more time as the archon stepped over to deal with the growing scrum of combatants surrounding the paladin. The dark angel first tried to poison the dragon with a spell, and when that failed, resorted once again to his greatsword. That, at least, had the desired effect: Another solid blow, and suddenly the dragon wasn’t looking as if he’d be in the fight for the long haul, either.
Wulf decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped up and hacked away at the archon, landing a solid blow. Almost at once, the cloud of menace and despair that had dogged Wulf's subconscious seemed to lift away on a breeze. Yeah... I can win this fight.
Karak had backed into a corner in some semblance of strategic defense, but to no avail. Still the rogues carved away at him and again the paladin see-sawed from vigorous health to death’s door. The monk appeared once again to attack Wulf, but her fists found nothing but empty air. Wulf was fighting at full strength, now-- and the monk suddenly realized she’d become visible with the first punch.
Dorn reached out to heal Karak again, shrugged, then made a wild guess at a rogue's location. He slammed his new axe down in a splintering stroke that somehow found its mark. There was a blast of electricity, a puff of ozone, and shards of rogue showered the area.
“Is he dead?” Karak asked. The archon answered his question by stepping forward into the space just vacated by the slain rogue.
Keldas chose an opportune moment to join the fight. Two summoned archons of his own joined the fray, bobbing forward to attack the dark archon. “I think, brothers, you should return home,” the dark archon boasted.
“Eat sword,” they responded.
Things were looking up, but the party was not ready for one last trick of evil. From across the room one last invisible rogue finally acted, stepping forward to thrust a blade between Keldas’ ribs. Keldas body stiffened as poison took hold; he was paralyzed almost instantly.
The duergar monk assessed the new development and acted with practiced precision. She ran to join the rogue, grabbed Keldas, and together they all teleported away. The dark archon didn’t wait long before he, too, teleported away, taking the rest of their strike force with them. “Another time…”
“Sons of…” Wulf growled. “Gah!”
He grabbed a ring from the finger of the fallen rogue and tried desperately to get it working. There was a brief spark, followed by not-so-brief cursing. What did he hope to accomplish? Wulf’s frustration threatened to overwhelm his usual good sense.
“Let’s go!” said the paladin. “We’ve got to rescue Keldas!”
“Screw it,” said Wulf. “They must’ve took him alive for a reason. Either he’ll get himself out of it, or we’ll just have to go get him tomorrow. Put it on my friggin’ schedule.”
“Right…” agreed Dorn. “Let’s loot this body, and identify what we can.”
“I’ll tell yer one thing,” Wulf said, nursing his sore finger. “When I get this ring of invisibility workin’, some bastard’s gonna pay.”
Back in their room in Rigus, Wulf was having trouble resting. Keldas hadn’t said a peep about his new staff, but it wasn’t as if he was being discreet about it, either-- there commenced a long and, in Wulf’s opinion, overly intimate inspection for what Wulf rightly asserted was a glorified walking stick. Naturally, when the elf volunteered to take a watch, Wulf volunteered to stay up with him. There was a warm spot in his belly nurtured by a healthy paranoia and the thought of having finally put those pricks Rourmed and Engram down for good.
The thought that Keldas was hiding something was titillating in its own right. Wulf hoped that the daggers he cut with his eyes would appear as no more than his usual disgust, though truthfully he admitted that there was little danger the elf would notice, rapt as he was with his staff.
The hair stood up on the back of Wulf’s neck and suddenly Keldas was looking into his eyes. “We’re being scried…” Keldas whispered.
“Wake up!” Wulf said-- or at least, he thought he said it, for a surreal, dreamlike state seemed to settle in. There appeared in the center of the room a tall, beautiful winged elf. The archon smiled, raised a long, fluted trumpet to its lips, and blew a shrill note.
“Yer don’t see that every day…” Wulf thought, as Keldas turned stark white and fled up into the corner of the ceiling, skittering like a spider. Come to think of it, he didn’t feel quite 100% himself. Still not quite sure what was going on-- yet fairly certain it would involve bloodshed-- Wulf downed a potion of haste, just in case.
Still wearing the same beatific smile-- no doubt that same smile reserved for the slaughtering of firstborn babes and similar missions-- the archon stretched forth his hand. Wide strokes of lightning leapt from his fingertips and scorched everyone in the room-- everyone, of course, except Wulf, who dodged out of the way, and the paladin’s boy, who seemed immune to its effect.
Without missing a beat, and moving with unearthly speed, the archon’s trumpet suddenly shifted and changed into an enormous greatsword. The archon seemed to laugh just a bit as a black bolt of destruction slithered down the blade and struck the boy full in the chest. Wulf had seen the effect before, and if the boy’s reaction was an indication of the spell being successfully resisted, he had no desire to see the spell’s full force.
Still not quite sure of himself, Wulf stammered once again for his comrades to get up, all the while pulling darts and daggers from the bandolier on his chest and hurling them ineffectively at the archon. The next moment, a female duergar appeared in the room, enlarged to twice her size and wearing the loose-fitting garb of a monk. Wulf sensed something else out there, as well, lurking invisibly amongst their other foes.
Karak finally managed to get to his feet, just in time to be set upon by the invisible creatures. Wulf could not see the attackers, but he recognized the arterial spray easily enough: nary a weak spot on Karak’s armor and anatomy was left unbloodied by the attack. The paladin staggered backwards and the boy sprang to his defense, changing form into a young bronze dragon as he positioned himself unerringly between his master and the invisible rogues.
Dorn was awake. Activating his boots of speed, he sprang to his feet and cast destruction on the archon-- to absolutely no effect.
Karak groaned something pitiful and slipped backwards, fumbling desperately to lay his healing hands on himself. Before the young dragon could retreat alongside him, the archon stepped forward and slashed twice across the dragon’s hide, opening deep wounds across his flank.
Wulf wanted nothing to do with the archon; he wondered vaguely if the two invisible rogues were of sufficient skill to bypass his own uncanny reflexes. Never one to take unnecessary chances, he grabbed Taranak in one hand and his chaos mace in the other, and attacked the female duergar.
“Yer gonna like this,” Wulf said, pounding the chaos mace into the monk’s unarmored body. He scored several good hits, sending the duergar into a desperate defense. The monk struck once at Wulf’s chest-- no doubt attempting a stunning strike, for all the good it would do her-- then thought better of that approach. She stepped back and downed a potion of invisibility.
Meanwhile, the rogues were relentless in their assault on the paladin. The dragon did his best to defend him, and the room echoed with screams of pain as its jaws bit down solidly on vulnerable flesh. Dorn rushed to his aid as well, casting a heal spell while swinging away wildly around him. “Fight!” Dorn yelled, trying to spur the paladin into something other than endless retreat.
Karak finally struck out-- a lucky shot. His sword crashed down solidly on the other rogue. Their cries of alarm bought Wulf a little more time as the archon stepped over to deal with the growing scrum of combatants surrounding the paladin. The dark angel first tried to poison the dragon with a spell, and when that failed, resorted once again to his greatsword. That, at least, had the desired effect: Another solid blow, and suddenly the dragon wasn’t looking as if he’d be in the fight for the long haul, either.
Wulf decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped up and hacked away at the archon, landing a solid blow. Almost at once, the cloud of menace and despair that had dogged Wulf's subconscious seemed to lift away on a breeze. Yeah... I can win this fight.
Karak had backed into a corner in some semblance of strategic defense, but to no avail. Still the rogues carved away at him and again the paladin see-sawed from vigorous health to death’s door. The monk appeared once again to attack Wulf, but her fists found nothing but empty air. Wulf was fighting at full strength, now-- and the monk suddenly realized she’d become visible with the first punch.
Dorn reached out to heal Karak again, shrugged, then made a wild guess at a rogue's location. He slammed his new axe down in a splintering stroke that somehow found its mark. There was a blast of electricity, a puff of ozone, and shards of rogue showered the area.
“Is he dead?” Karak asked. The archon answered his question by stepping forward into the space just vacated by the slain rogue.
Keldas chose an opportune moment to join the fight. Two summoned archons of his own joined the fray, bobbing forward to attack the dark archon. “I think, brothers, you should return home,” the dark archon boasted.
“Eat sword,” they responded.
Things were looking up, but the party was not ready for one last trick of evil. From across the room one last invisible rogue finally acted, stepping forward to thrust a blade between Keldas’ ribs. Keldas body stiffened as poison took hold; he was paralyzed almost instantly.
The duergar monk assessed the new development and acted with practiced precision. She ran to join the rogue, grabbed Keldas, and together they all teleported away. The dark archon didn’t wait long before he, too, teleported away, taking the rest of their strike force with them. “Another time…”
“Sons of…” Wulf growled. “Gah!”
He grabbed a ring from the finger of the fallen rogue and tried desperately to get it working. There was a brief spark, followed by not-so-brief cursing. What did he hope to accomplish? Wulf’s frustration threatened to overwhelm his usual good sense.
“Let’s go!” said the paladin. “We’ve got to rescue Keldas!”
“Screw it,” said Wulf. “They must’ve took him alive for a reason. Either he’ll get himself out of it, or we’ll just have to go get him tomorrow. Put it on my friggin’ schedule.”
“Right…” agreed Dorn. “Let’s loot this body, and identify what we can.”
“I’ll tell yer one thing,” Wulf said, nursing his sore finger. “When I get this ring of invisibility workin’, some bastard’s gonna pay.”
Hammerhead
Explorer
The Tuskan Raiders, I see? Sucks for you.
Why is Karak so freakin' useless?
Why is Karak so freakin' useless?
Jeremy Ackerman-Yost
Explorer
Hammerhead said:
Seems to me that Keldas was actually the least effectual this time. Which is certainly a switch.
Looking back at the last couple entries together, I can definitely see Dinkledog living up to his reputation as a rat-bastard DM.
I can't wait to see where this is going.
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Hammerhead said:
No moo mundred hit points, for starters.
But in all fairness, he has really high AC-- that's his forte, really-- and under the same circumstances, against those rogues, anybody else would have been dead. Tough to say whether AC or HP would pull you through that meatgrinder.
On the other hand, ask me in a less forgiving mood, and I might make a strong argument that it's the player's cowardly heart that makes the character so useless. When the threat of character death looms, he'll find some useless, sniveling, cowardly response.
I might make that argument, I say, some other time.
Wulf
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