D&D Session 48: (9/7/22) Campaign Crossroads: Bryn Shander

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master 

There is much work to be done in the city! Fires to knock down. Rubble to clear. Dead to bury and walls to repair. Winter is coming (literally). They can use your magic, and Harshnag’s muscles, and Arthur’s nimble little body to work his way into buried basements.

The city fathers of Bryn Shander express their appreciation by offering you noble title and a vacant palace inside the city to take as your own. The delegation is led by the Sheriff and his assistant (Augrek Brighthelm and Markham Southwell), as well as the retired hero Sir Baric Nylef. Also part of the embassy is Cummings, your old pal from the Ten Trail Road; on behalf of the grateful merchants of Bryn Shander he offers to furnish your new apartments at a favorable discount. Nothing is too good for the Barons of Bryn Shander!

One potential problem with taking over that palace — it is presently home to Duvessa Shane, the elected Speaker of Bryn Shander. But surely something can be worked out there. The Blue Mountain Brothers would make a fine palace guard.

Another possible problem — that barbarian army camped outside the gates. They seem to think they deserve tribute. There have been clashes with the city watch. If you accept that noble title it comes with the understanding something will be done about the barbarians.

Beldora would like an audience — she’s an agent of the Harpers, and can cast some light on that whole Artus-Cimber-And-The-Ring-Of-Winters business. She’ll probably want to send you on a quest. Harshnag has some ideas, too — something about an Oracle.

There are some strange, silent fellows in black leather armor with dragon masks that would also like a word.

Arthur sees the signs — the literal signs — on alley walls and shadowy doors: Bryn Shander has a Thieves’ Guild. Might be better to find them before they find you. Thieves Guilds usually demand a portion of any treasure housed within city walls.

Jenny would like to visit Sommpher’s Grave, and lay some flowers.

And that damn white dragon is still spotted high in the clouds above, just often enough to make everyone nervous.

(Thus ends the Guild of the Guide Killers D&D session for the forseeable future.  Moment of silence.)

D&D Session 47 (8/31/22): The Siege of Bryn Shander (Part 2)

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master 

There was a bit of strategizing, but ultimately the plan turned out to be Just Go For It. The impetuous barbarians urging Blah to action might have had some influence. There was also concern that Kostov's magic fog would lift for some reason.

So Go For It, they did, beneath the walls of Bryn Shander, with the melee unfolding across multiple vectors.

Arthur opened the battle courtesy of a fastball special from Blah, landing astride a giant's back and cleaving with a will. But his most memorable match was with a particularly savage winter wolf, who froze the half-man with his magical breath, then took Arthur on a bucking bronco ride while the halfling hung on the animal's back for dear life (while stabbing, always stabbing). It cost him a potion but Arthur finished the fight in triumph.

Khostov hovered about in his fogbank, lofting fireballs at the giants, and if one bled over and set several barbarians aflame, then c'est la guerre. Friendly fire, indeed! Not so friendly was a giant's return fire, a rock hurled by mighty muscles and damn near pulping the wizard where he hovered. But healing potions are a cure for any impetuosity.

Blah defeated a pair of giants in single combat, his vorpal blade proving irresistible, and even cleaving the head from a giant that had gone down on one knee. He was aided by fireballs from Khostov, to be sure ... and Dee Dah struck at the moment of decision. Old Blah was on his last breaths before the final giant fell -- his was a glorious day of battle. Blah tried a couple times to intimidate giants by tossing their severed heads around, which made for good press but didn't much impress his foes.

Those impetuous barbarians got what they wanted, getting smashed by giants and savaged by wolves. They were ready to quit the field at one point before rallying to Blah's command (and maybe tossing those giant heads around had some effect, after all). In the end they got as good as they got, driving away the bulk of the wolves; of the fifty spears that went in to battle, about thirty escaped death or significant injury. It was a good day to die, and a better day not to.

And as the last giant hit the dirt, the defenders of Bryn Shander sallied out to attack, just as Jarund Elkhardt led the bulk of the Reghed Barbarians into battle. Harshnag appeared, bleeding from a score of cuts suffered in his duel with Jari Stovald -- the last Harshnag saw of the evil frost giant, he and his army were being harried by Elkhardt's riders across the windy wastes of Icewind Dale.

The city is saved and the heroes are feted as liberators! Many happy reunions with Jenny and the Blue Mountain Brothers ... Victory! Victory! Victory!

Building an easy to digest book out of our D&D Adventures. (Click picture)

 Guild of the Guide Killers 

D&D Session 46 (8/10/22): The Siege of Bryn Shander (Part 1)

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master 

Uneasy is the head that wears the crown. In the gold old days, the heroes would have done as they please. But now, Blah is a husband and a king, and must consider his people.

Queen Bjornhild was not enthusiastic about marching to the relief of the greatest of the Ten Towns, but skillful oratory from her new husband softened her heart.

There is a council of war. Blah, Khostov, and Arthur will ride for Bryn Shander, with fifty choice spears from the Reghed Barbarians ... of all tribes, even the wolves. Jarund Elkhardt, leader of the Elk Barbarians, will follow with a force of several thousand, which will take some time to assemble.

The rider from Bryn Shander, Oman Rye, rode through the treacherous Howling Lands; our heroes took a longer and less treacherous road to return. Along the way they found the passing army of giants had stripped the land of food and fodder for many miles. The heroes slowed their pace to spare their horses.

Along the way they saw a colossal round boulder in the midst of a flat plain. Khostov mused this may have been one of the Twenty Stones collected by the ancient hero Thruun, to please the lost god Malar.

Bryn Shander appeared on the horizon, atop a hill below rearing Kelvin's Cairn. Smoke rose from the city.

High above, our heroes spotted a white dragon circling in the iron grey sky. It is almost certainly Codoroth the Longtail, though he has grown larger seen last seen.

Conjuring the Boorman Mists, the heroes and their little army rode unnoticed to just outside the walls of Bryn Shander, damaged in places but still holding out against the siege of giants. Taking care to remain hidden from the rock-throwing giants and their huge winter wolf companions, our heroes contemplate a plan, scheming how they might lure Codoroth to battle the giants ...

HPE D&D Session 5 (7/30/22): In search of the Fountain of Youth

 

Inarie negotiates with the local fauna for a ride.

The crew takes on the Guardian Bander Hobb.  Ornock is caught by the beast's tongue while Auric, Inarie and Humanknight chip away at it.

D&D Session 45 (7/13/22): The Trials

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

A barbarian wedding isn't like a regular wedding. There isn't a registry and there is no wedding party. Instead there is ...

... THE TEST OF STRENGTH! Blah rose to the challenge, contemptuously lifting a mighty stone over his head, and then for good measure flinging it at Isarr Kronenstrom, the cannibal Wolf Tribe Chief who persisted in taunting Blah for being half an orc. Even a second challenge to lift an even heavier stone -- this time frozen by Sha-Ga's magics, was passed easily by the future king of the Reghed Barbarians, though he left more than a little skin on the stone. Huzzah

... THE TEST OF SONG! Who better than Khostov and his ever-potent Pipes of Fear. Cannily shaping his enchantment so it affected only the sneering members of the Wolf Tribe, Khostov Cross-Eyed Mary'd the pack off the wedding stage. After some drinking, there followed a vocal performance ... but by this time the crowd was thoroughly won over to the heroes' side. Huzzah, Huzzah!

... THE TEST OF COURAGE! The crowd went wild when Arthur the halfling fearlessly strode forward to meet the Test of Courage. Cries of "Wee Man! Wee Man!" reverberated through the assembled barbarian host, even taken up by those few members of the Wolf Tribe who had not fled the sacred grounds. A moan went up from the Rider Sisters when they saw the test their lover was to face -- a tall, thin man with muscles like strips of beef jerky stretched over a bony frame. "The test is passed!" they cried. "Don't make him fight!" But Arthur was heedless, bearing in on the man and cutting him good, though the wound scarcely bled. "End the test!" the Rider Sisters again implored, and Queen Bjornhild agreed that the fight might end. She, like the rest of the tribe, had been won over, and they saw no sense in hurting the brave little man. But Arthur was having none of it, he would see the thing to the end ... even after the man tore off his outer skin, and emerged as a mighty werebear! Arthur scarcely paused, tumbling between the beast's legs and cutting at will. Like lightning the halfling enveloped the were in a tornado of steel, cutting and slashing and avoid the worst of the bear's mighty claw swipes. In less time than it takes to relate, the bear took a knee, signaling the contest's end, and the crowd rushed the stage, tossing their little champion into the sky in their joy.

Then followed the marriage of Blah and Bjornhild, beneath the driving snowflake blessings of the goddess Auril Frostmaiden. If Blah had second thoughts after hearing Bjornhild say that the united barbarian tribes would demand tribute of the Ten Towns, then ride south to sack Waterdeep ... well, that was a problem for another day. For now there was a bride to kiss and a wedding night to celebrate.

(Here followed much drinking and frolicking for all).

And in the morning, the party was crashed by an exhausted rider dispatched from Bryn Shander -- come quick, the giants have besieged the city!

D&D Session 44 (6/29/22): Savage Splendor!

 Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

"He kneels before his queen, but he shall rise a king!"

Bjornhild Solvigsdottir

Avoiding the siren call of a ruined hill fort where they might have made a stand against the pursuing Wolf Barbarian tribe, our heroes set their spurs to their mounts and pressed on to Sommpher's Rest. Cresting up and down into the crater where Sommpher's Rest resides, they saw a sea of tents as seemingly every Reghed Barbarian in Icewind Dale had descended upon the sacred site for a great event.

The crowd parted for the returning heroes, opening a path for them to the island at the bottom of the bowl-like depression, where a visibly beaming Queen Bjornhild Solvigsdottir received the Axe of Axton from a kneeling Blah. "Rise, as my King!" the Queen commanded, to a general cheer from the crowd ... but then came hisses and cries of "Orc! Orc!" from the late-arriving Wolf Barbarians. Their king Isarr Kronenstrom claimed the right of truce at Sommpher's Rest and said Blah was not a Reghedman, so he could not be king. Orc!!

Perhaps because his britches fell down (and Arthur had something to do with that), the crowd didn't immediately rise at Isarr's challenge. Instead, they agreed with Bjornhild that the newcomers should be made part of the tribe by passing tests of Strength, Courage, and Song on the morrow.

Retiring to the Queen's massive tent, there was much canoodling. The Rider Sisters reclaimed Arthur. Some quick work by Sarkagan foiled a conspiracy to poison or drug Blah's drink, and while Arthur's reconnaissance linked the plotters to members of the Wolf, Elk, Bear, and Tiger tribes working with the shaman Sha-Ga, they lacked proof to do anything about it.

The fires burn low, the drunks stagger off to bed singing their savage songs, and the sun will rise on a day of trials for our intrepid heroes ... 

D&D Session 43 (6/22/22): Slaughter At White River

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

Caught between a defended ford and a thundering herd of cannibal Wolf Tribe barbarians, our heroes gird up their loins for the grim task ahead.

A halfling thief, a wizard, and a half-orc barbarian -- with a frost giant, a reluctant barbarian, and an adolescent owlbear to support them -- faced off against far superior numbers. A frost druid and his tribal champion companion, a fierce berserker, a towering yeti, slavering lycanthropes, and a whole clan of tribal spearmen. Good luck!

The druid showed his hand early -- raining hale and jagged ice far and wide. Sarkagan took the worst of it, and when the Wolf Tribe berserker singled out the wizard, fairly vaulting across the battlefield to clobber him with his axe, it looked bad for the good guys.

But our heroes got their feet under them. Sarkagan quaffed a healing potion, and the giant Harshnag lifted the little wizard up onto his mighty shoulder, where he might better concentrate on what he does best -- blowing fearsome pipes and blowing stuff up. 

Meanwhile, Blah threw caution to the winds and sprinted through the druid's bodyguards to lay into the enemy spellcaster, heedless of the spears and axes arrayed against him.  Stunned by this turn of events, the druid shifted to defensive mode, first failing to escape by transforming into an owl, then relying on magic fog and stealth spells to quit the battlefield. Blah's impetuous attack took the Wolf Tribe's most important piece off the battlefield, and that Blah also beat the tribe's champion and a score of spearmen seemed almost a bonus.

Meanwhile, from atop the towering giant, Sarkagan routed half the field with his damn pipes, then wreathed Harshnag in a wall of fire, which drove back the weres and spearmen yapping at his heels. Arthur tumbled here and there about the battlefield and put paid to the enemy berserker in single combat. Before long the field was a confused mass of burning lycanthropes and fleeing, fear-maddened spearmen. A few got across the ford; more plunged to their deaths in the swift-flowing White River.

With Mal-Do yelling that enemy horsemen were fast approaching from the south, the team mounted up and fled across their hard-won ford, with Sarkagan frustrating pursuit with a wall of water cast across the ford, securing the only line of pursuit like a magical cork in a bottle.

On to Sommpher's Rest!

D&D Session 42 (6/10/22): Harshnag!

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

Emerging from the cleft guarding the Tomb of Axton, our heroes were confronted by a massive frost giant. His helmet was the skull of a white dragon, he wore magic armor and bore a wicked axe. His white beard was like a frozen cascade across is chest. This is Harshnag!

Harshnag met the heroes with suspicion. He'd had a dream that Ragaman wished him to find the heroes. His path led him to Sommpher's Rest, where he paid tribute to the fallen hero (who he had known in Sompher's youth, as part of Force Gray), then followed the trail after learning of the quest for Axton's tomb from queen Bjornhild Solvigsdottir.

There was some breast-beating in the form of diplomacy. Harshnag tested the edge of his axe. But seeing Sommpher's holy item and the Harpers ring bequeathed by Ragaman softened the giant's heart.

Once convinced the heroes were who they said they were, Harshnag gladly threw in with them, saying that as they were friends of Ragaman, then their quest was his.

Their numbers swollen by the massive giant, they began the long march back to Sommpher's Rest ...

... but it wasn't long before they were trailed by sinister members of the Wolf Tribe barbarians. They were clad in human skins, their teeth filed to sharp points.

A desperate race for the ford, which comes up just short ...

... and as intimidation fails, the Wolf riders charge down upon our heroes, with a whole howling pack of their fellows fast riding up from the east!

 

Dr. Sketchy's Seattle. 6/6/2022

 

D&D Session 41 (5/3/22): Making It Personal

 Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

There is the stench of death in the air, and not just from the fragrant corpse pile the undead Axton calls a bed. A sense of DOOM clutches at the heart of the party.

And that's because of ... The Hellfire Orb! The ritual was a (real time) month in the coming, but it did not disappoint. Arthur was hurled aside like a broken doll, and Blah was staggered. Death saving rolls ahead! Boom goes the dynamite!

Quaffing a healing potion (and it's a good thing he did), Blah had a moment of inspired madness. "NO MAGIC!" he shouted at the undead king! "Fight me like a barbarian!"

Now, Axton should have known better. But you know what they say -- you can take the boy out of the barbarian, but you can't take the barbarian out of the boy. (They do say that, don't they?) Somehow, Blah's word wormed their way into Axton's worm-eaten heart (and it helped that I rolled a fumble when checking to see if Axton kept his cool). 

"No magic, hey? I'll show you no magic!" I mean why use a prepared spell that might banish your foe to another plane of existence when you can wade in and slash with a sharp piece of steel?

(You know, there's a reason that even when he forged the Rehged Barbarians into a single fighting force that Axton failed to build a kingdom. He stooooooo-pid).

Slice, hack, slash! Blah takes the hit ... but when raging, he's all about taking the hit. Does it say something on his sheet about half-damage from being banished to another plane of existence? No, it does not. Good thing Axton didn't do that!

Slice, hack, slash ... and down goes Axton, exploding into ribbons of bandages and mummy dust like spring snakes released from a can!

(Gotta love D&D -- "Personal challenge improbably unhinges campaign end boss and prevents total party kill." Yep, had that on my DM bingo card).

A healing potion down Arthur's throat and he was right as rain. And looking around the burial chamber, our heroes find more gold and platinum pieces than they can carry. Plus -- not to be forgotten -- Axton's legendary axe, the key to rallying the barbarian tribes against the giants! (Theoretically).

Problem is, our heroes are on an island, surrounded by raging, frozen waters -- how do you transport all those hundreds of pounds of coin across the water?

I'll tell you how NOT to do it -- Iago's way. Maddened with greed, his pockets stuff with WAY too much loot, the unloved NPC Bard waded into the water, convinced he could make the other side. Only being swallowed by a Frost Salamander saved him from drowning before he could freeze to death.

Spending exactly zero seconds mourning Iago, Khostov froze our gang a temporary causeway through clever application of his Frost Fingers spell, and with only a few white knuckle moments, the gang got off the island, their treasure intact. They spent the night in Khostov's tiny hut.

An under-appreciated feature of that tiny hut spell is the hut is transparent from the inside ... so the party easily saw the Ice Trolls laying in wait for them, and dispatched them with contemptuous ease come the morning. This had the dual benefit of helping much of the party hit Level 9 ... AND it let us scratch "Troll" off our list of classic D&D monster encounters.

Laden with treasure, fully healed and rested, in possession of the fabled Ax of Axton, our heroes set out on their last (?) and greatest (?) journey ...

D&D: Highlights of the Axton Fight. We all really should have died. The dice were kind.

 

D&D Session 40 (4/5/22): The Tomb of Axton!

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

Winter's chill draws close as our intrepid heroes ride their disk across frozen waters, like some D&D homage to Washington crossing the Delaware.

Mephits streak down in icy fury; skeletons swarm the shore. But they were little match for the Pipes of FEAR (and yes, I'm as perplexed as anyone that skeletons know fear). Our heroes gain the far shore without hardly taking a scratch. In a twinkling, Omaha Beach turned into Malibu Beach!

On the island, a horse's tomb (quickly looted), and a burial mound, surmounted by a spiral stair. Iago was persuaded to dig, uncovering a stone lid, shrugged aside by Blah.

 Below -- a burial chamber, a pile of treasure, and atop it the armored form the Axton himself, cradling his legendary axe in his dead hands.

(You know what happens next, of course).

Blah roped himself off and lowered down. He knelt before the dead king and said the axe was needed to unite his people ... but Axton was having none of it! Awakened from his slumber, he rose and began casting spells. Grovel, Blah! Hold, Arthur! 

It was all a swirling melee, with Axton shrugging off Khostov's spells, trading blows with Blah, and managing to keep his britches up from Arthur's Chimes of Opening (and drat, but that would have been something).

The battle reaches fever pitch ... Axton raises his blade high overhead ... it glows, as if he's readying some mighty ritual ...

(... and then we broke for the night!)

D&D Session 39 (4/1/22): Taboo!

 

 Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

Missing the chance to kill off the entire party as an April Fools' joke, we got right into it ...

... with our intrepid heroes wandering about Icewind Dale, while Iago hummed and hrrmed and got the rhymes wrong, trying to remember which great icy mountain, precisely, it was that contained the fabled Tomb of Axton. Every step of the way they were dogged by wolves (wolved by dogs?) with the savage Wolf tribe of the Reghed Barbarians fast on their heels.

When it became obvious the party was headed for ground so taboo to Mal-Do that he could not even name the grounds, the boastful barbarian's heart dropped into the sink of fear, before a bit of shaming and cajoling by the heroes got him going again. 

At last they arrived at the Forbidden Zone. Mal-Do watched the horses while the heroes and Iago squeezed through a narrow cleft in the rock beneath an ancient rune identifying the taboo grounds. Inside the cleft -- strange spoor, the tracks of big cats and slime left behind by ... something.

Beyond the cleft a hidden punchbowl valley, dominated by a roaring waterfall and a treacherous, switch-back set of natural stairs rising to the Tomb of Axton embedded in the far rock wall!

Dismissing the waterfall entrance as entirely too chilly, the heroes entered via the main gate, and passed through chambers that had lain silent for thousand of years, the walls decorated with frescos depicting barbaric glory.

Soon the lads found the tomb was built around a vast underground lake, with an island in the middle that held a burial mound and standing stones ... the heart of the Tomb of Axton!

A bit more sneaking about and the team found their way to a ruined causeway, which promised to bring them close to the island. A few desultory arrows launched from the island greeted their explorations, but all was chill (in more ways that one, as ice waters roared about the pilings near the causeway). Khostov began a ritual to conjure a floating disc to move the party across to the island. But then waterlogged undead assassins dragged themselves from the lake bottom and swarmed to attack, tearing off their own faces and infecting luckless Arthur with Bluerot (sad, but true).

Blah and Arthur dueled the wet undead while Khostov completed his spell. The heroes stepped aboard the floating disk and began to hover across to the island, which should go perfectly aside from that one remaining skeletal assassin in the water, aiming at them with twin crossbows ... oh and the skeletons gathering on the far shore ... and the flock of mephits that detached from the icy ceiling and flapped down toward the floating disc ... and also the great bulky shape cutting an ominous vee through the water toward all the action.

Join us next time to see what happens, same Bat time, same Bat channel

D&D Session 38 (3/15/22): The Pleasure Tents Of Bjornhild Solvigsdottir

 Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

Barbarians show their grief through celebration, and they really tied one on to mark Sommpher's death. Sommpher's Rest was magically transformed to a hidden crater of eternal spring in the windy Icewind Dale. As a sacred place, Blah's reindeer friends can live here safely. A magic lake fills the bottom of the bowl.

Bjornhild Solvigsdottir arrives -- she is Queen of the Tiger Tribe, a fierce follower of Auril Frostmaiden. They say ice flows in her veins, but her blood beat hot for Blah.

Gifting, dancing, drinking, boasting. Dagger-throwing games, thanks to Arthur. All conducted beneath the tents of Bjornhild, overflowing with savage splendor. Tiger hides! Mammoth tusks! Fermented horse milk! You can practically hear the Basil Poledouris score!

Rumor in the court -- King Hekaton, wise old master of the Frost Giants, has gone missing, and in his place the hotheaded Jarl Storvald leads the Frost Giants of Icewind Dale. He's also the master of the Kringvind raiding ship, which sank our heroes outside Fireshear. Definitely owe that guy some payback.

Arthur finds himself the leader of a little carnal cult (!) -- The Sister Riders made a jockey of him, and enjoyed their game of "lock and key." (Arthur later pilfered the Chime of Opening central to the game).  

In his own tent, Khostov was stirred from his studies by what he swore was the voice of Sommpher, warning him of an Invisible Stalker about to strike. There was an exchange of spells before the tent was carried away by swirling winds and the monster disappeared, but not before Khostov was clouted in the head by a chamberpot. Could the fiend have been sent by the Tiger Tribe's shaman, the sinister Shag-Ga (also called the ... ahem ... Wind Father)? That old fart was definitely giving Khostov the evil eye.

But most of the action was in Bjornhild's tent, where she and Blah wrestled the night away. Between bouts of wild lovemaking, Bjornhild shared a dream she'd had since she was a little girl -- that she and her husband would unite the Reghed Barbarians and return them to the glory of Axton's day. Her husband died a year ago, battling the two-headed frost giant, Gud ... but in Blah she saw her dream alive again. With Axton's Axe, and the four tribes of the Reghed gathered at Sommpher's Rest; with the curse of the Giants' Rest broken -- surely this is a sign. Bjornhild pledged her love to Blah, said she would bring him strong sons, that they would unite the Reghed tribes to drive the giants back to their glacier holdfasts, and Icewind Dale would be their's -- hunting for all, tribute from the Ten Towns, and peace above all. But bring us the AXE!

Come morning there is gift-giving -- resplendent tiger fur clothing and potions of healing. Together with Iago (remember him -- the captured bard who claims to know the location of Axton's tomb?) and Mal-Do, the heroes begin their quest for the Axe of Axton.

At the end of the first day's march, a grim discovery -- the remains of the fur trappers the heroes had met some days before. Slain and half-eaten, Mal-Do says it is the work of the Wolf Tribe of the Reghed Barbarians -- insane cousins that no one trusts. A bad sign that they are in this part of Icewind Dale.

The next day saw our heroes headed into the foothills of the Reghed Glacier in the northwest of Icewind Dale. They surprised a loutish Hill Giant and his Ogre pals on the trail; Khostov's Acid Sphere struck home, and Arthur put his dagger-throwing skills to good effect. Down went the hapless brutes, but not before Mal-Do claimed victory. (Lots of bark, not so much bite with that guy). They made him stay outside and keep watch while everyone else bunkered up in Khostov's Tiny Hut for the night.

I am featured in a documentary on the Republique series by game developer Camouflaj.

 Those were fun, scrappy days.  A great game developer story.  

D&D Session 37 (3/9/22): Sommpher's Rest

 Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master

A sense of doom hangs over the party. Sommpher is not himself, spending extra hours in prayer. Something troubles him.

The Barbarians were as patient as they were silent, forming a quiet ring and observing our heroes as they counted their foes, and counted again, and concluded they best not try to cut their way out of this one.

Cummings knew this tribe -- The Tiger Tribe, a warlike group, but one that could be reasoned with. Sometimes. They rode broad, squat, powerful, shaggy ponies and draped themselves in snow tiger furs. Their leader -- a giant of a man named Mal-Do -- was so tall that even astride his tallest of the horses his feet nearly touched the ground.

And it's not just any horse. It's Horse! A shock of recognition runs between Blah and his old animal friend.

Mal-Do bargained with the heroes, in the manner of his people, which mostly meant threats and bullying. Give us the furs, and the girl, and the owlbear, and we will offer you tiger teeth, and let you keep your lives. And we can heal the half-man.

Mal-Do knew more than he was letting on, though. He admired that our heroes had slain the orcs the night before, and seemed satisfied to confirm our gang were the Heroes of Blue Mountain. He'd heard something of them. But he knew he had a stronger hand and intended to play it. The Tiger Tribe withdrew to let our heroes consider his "offer."

Sommpher was willing to buy out Cummings' load of furs but giving up Jenny and Dee Dah was obviously a non-starter. The group decided to saddle up and head for Bryn Shander, and take their chances when Mal-Do returned.

But then a strange fate intervened, in the form of the Blue Mountain Reindeer, who had been tracking Blah across the tundra. A joyous reunion! And also one freighted with portent, as Mal-Do's opinion to the heroes softened. 

He admitted that he'd been sent to look for the group, that he'd had word of their heroics, and offered to bring the group to a place sacred to his tribe, where he said the "half-man" would be cured of drinking from "dark waters beneath the mountains."

A parting of the ways! Cummings and the Blue Mountain Brothers headed for Bryn Shander, and Jenny with them, but not before she begged Sommpher not to go into Icewind Dale. She'd had a vision that he'd die there. Sommpher told her to stay with Cummings and go on to the city. Jenny left Sommpher with her locket, then stood atop a wagon to watch her lover and the others ride off into the mist.

Mal-Do did some boasting on the ride that followed, lying that he'd tamed his wild Horse, chiding the "village-soft" heroes that they could not keep up with his horsemen, but his tone was less threatening. There was even some respect for Blah, a half orc he might otherwise hate, especially when Blah showed off the vorpal sword he'd taken from King Gud. Mal-Dao said the orcs the heroes had slain were one of several warbands raiding the plains now that Blue Mountain Castle had fallen. Trappers joined the group at campfire that night, and shared news of giants on the march across Icewind Dale, including a small Frost Giant army of a dozen or so, headed east.

Horse met Blah in the night, said how he'd searched for the party but lost their trail, and fell in with the Tiger Tribe. He loved the mares in the herd -- "They all had long manes, and brains!" But he was also growing tired of the herd and recognized his pledge to the heroes. If they needed to get away in a hurry, just whistle, and he'd be there with some fleet friends to bear them to safety.

The next day everyone was blindfolded and rode out to Giants Rest, a sacred site to the Reghed Barbarians. A strange mound, where Spring seemed perpetual, at the bottom of a bowl formed from a massive crater. Thirteen standing stones ringed the mound, and clear spring bubbled atop it. The Tiger Tribe would go no further -- they said the place was cursed, and they'd die if any one Reghed Tribe touched the mound without the many others in attendance.

Nearing the mound the heroes could read Giant runes on the rocks. It was the Rune of Death! 

Which they'd find out soon enough! Skeletons erupted from the earth, praise St. Harryhausen!

Arthur dashed for the spring, dove in, and was restored!

Sommpher turns many of the skeletons; Khostov blew others away with his pipes; Blah decapitated a few for good measure.

But that was just the opening act. Then the MOUND stood up -- a colossal, undead giant, dripping grave mould, mud, and stone. He hefted a mighty axe and threw boulders with casual ease. Arthur carved at his ankles but was knocked aside; Blah deflected a mighty boulder. The giant exuded an aura of icy cold which slowed our heroes and made them wonder if the sense of doom that hung over them all was about to play out.

Sommpher rises up, holds aloft his holy symbol, rebukes the giant with holy words that split the sky like thunder!

The giant was checked, lurched ... and then fell in sections, a titanic avalanche of bone and ice. Right atop Sommpher, who fearlessly held his ground, an avatar of the Silver Flame, to the final moment and beyond. A blinding flash of silver light ... and then silence.

The undead -- destroyed. The curse of Giants Rest -- broken. The Barbarians gathered around in respectful silence. And no sign found of Sommpher, aside from the locket Jenny had given him (and many miles away, Jenny rose from her bed in Bryn Shander, went to the window, and looked to the west).

Giants Rest is now Sommpher's Rest.

(Happy trails, Frank, who leaves the campaign, for a week or forever as he wishes!)

Sommpher's moment of glory: 

HPE D&D Session #2: The Ratway Rumble

 The winner of the Ratway Rumble, and the Ambrosia Honey prize, awarded to HumanKnight the human knight, Inarie the elf ranger, Auric the genasi cleric, Orenock the tiefling wizard and Banta the dragonborn sorcerer. 

Pictured:  As the hours wane in the day, and the battle seems lost to push the final boss off the tower in a particularly treacherous version of "King of the Hill", Humanknight throws himself at the manticore and grapples him long enough for the group to be called the winners.

D&D Session 36 (2/23/22): Wherein We Go Full Orc

Text by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master  

Hard to believe we are into the second year of our D&D Trope Tour and have yet to battle orcs!

Perhaps the orcs were given pause by the newly muscled-up march order of our heroes -- seven mounted Blue Mountain Brothers in chain with swords and shield, plus Cummings and his little wagon train. A small army.

The orcs would have done well to avoid this one. They charged right toward the campsite in the dead of night. There was a desultory attempt to lay an ambush, but Droom (a Blue Mountain Brother, and kin of the late Thrombosis, clear from the way he couldn't stop throwing up) wrecked that for everyone.

Blah and the orc chief exchanged insults, which is basically the pregame show.

 And then it was on! And then it was off! Didn't take much to dispatch the orcs, frankly, though there were some good moments -- Sommpher turning into a killing machine, Arthur wrestling with wolves, Khostov blasting his pipes and levitating away from danger trailing fog clouds of confusion, and Blah beating the chief in single(ish) combat while convincing his wolf to desert.

But in the morning, the party woke up surrounded by seemingly the entire Tiger tribe of the Reghed Barbarians, so maybe the orcs were just the warmup act ...?

D&D Session 35 (2/16/22): Sing-Along

Music and Lyrics by Paul O'Connor, Dungeon Master  

You know Farrah and Jenny and Dee Dah and Arthur

Thrombosis and Khostov and Oolan and Sommpher

But do you recall

The most famous Half Orc of all?

Blah-ah the Antlered Half-Orc

Had a very silver tongue

And if you ever heard it

You would even say it sung

All of the other delvers

Used to laugh and call him names

They never let poor Blah-ah

Join in any delver games

Then one foggy dungeon Eve

Dice rolls came to say

"Blah-ah, with your speech so bright

Won't you guide the deer tonight?"

Then how the reindeer loved him

As they shouted out with glee

"Blah-ah the Antlered Half-Orc

You'll go down in his - tor - ree!"