Campaign Journal: Recon and Arena

Hidey ho, neighbors!

The whole gang is here:

Frederick - thief
Slick - thief
Rondel - elf
Orzu - gnome
Fulvus - halfling
Jax - barbarian

Everyone was up bright and early. The crew had things to do. The halflings were sharpening weapons, polishing armor and doing whatever halfings do before death matches. The thieves were judging their odds versus whatever security Beladon the jeweler had at his shop. Time to get to work.

The crew checked in at the arena - the halflings were third on the bill, with a local gladiator vs a "wild man of the North" and a Dwarven wrestling exhibition match as teh opening acts.

Time to make some bets. Henry the cleric was entrusted with the halflings' coin to bet on them, of course. Rondel bet on them as well, aong with several conditional bets (first blood, etc.). Orzu bet on both the local gladiator and the halflings to win. Henry, on second thought, threw a few coin on the "northman" to win. The party attempted to ascertain as to the opponent(s), but could only determine that it was probably more Chaos mutant.

The thieves asked around at the Guild regarding Beladon's shop. They got some indeterminate rumors and an idea of the layout (shop, upstairs quarters, cellar vaults). Time to reconnoiter. Fred and Slick did the unimaginable and walked in the front door with the objective of buying something...

A couple of blobs with no necks looked them up and down and granted admittance. A third guard let them in through the inner foyer and followed them into a waiting area. He called for Beladon and a few minutes later, an elf appeared from behind a curtain and greeted them through a barred teller's window. What were they in the market for? Emeralds, please. The jeweler disappeared and Slick made small talk with the guard, Gerald. Does the boss pay well? Ok, but the missus just gave birth to our fifth. Things could be better... I hear ya.

Beladon came back with a lockbox of emeralds of various sizes. Sorry, the largest was sold recently for a gift for a lady. The thieves picked a large specimen to evaluate. Slick pulled out his new loupe and pretended to know what he was doing. Some negotiation and back and forth ("You wouldn't disparage my reputation!?") and the gem was purchased for a "reasonable" 400gp. Frederick asked after the local ruby market, but Beladon hadn't seen much, lately. Oh, and give Gerald a raise. I know, they're fecund, those humans. No offence. None taken.

Back out into the street. Hmm. Not much could be seen. Gang signs, and a street urchin was summoned. Do you know anything about the jeweler? No sir, but I can find a friend who might know. Do you have anything for me to buy lunch? Slick gave the young man enough to buy several months worth of lunches. Some time later, he returned. Go to the The Lazy Harper, he'll find you. 

Shadowdark Session 0: Meet Bloggah

I found this file on my tablet. Not sure where it came from, so giving the unknown author the benefit of the doubt and assuming it's genuine: 

***

Yo. I found this odd magical tablet where I poke at it and I can spell out words.

A magical miracle! Wait until I tell Rig-Rot! He'll think it's the rat's balls!

Oh, hello. I'm Bloggah. Goblin, if you care. I recently joined an encampment of my kin northeast of Hound's Head. There's Rig-Rot. I share a tent with him. Cass-Crow. She's pretty handy. Zern the Wist. He doesn't like anyone who's not a goblin, collects skulls. Ergo-En, Har-Hok, Wort-Wig, and the rest. We're just trying to make our way. Rig-Rot found an old collapsed fort. Some of the walls are still up. Good enough to block the wind from our tents and hovels, maybe help keep the wolves out. Or whatever wanders out of the deeper Komor forest. Plus winter's coming. We need to stock up and get some roofs up.

So I was coming back from woodcutting, when I head voices. Dwarves. I don't speak their tongue, but most of them harmless, keep to themselves since all that stuff that happened back in the Before Times. Just two, one dragging a handcart of tools. So I waved them down. 

Said their names were Ulfgar and Alric. Brothers looking for metal veins to mine to the northwest. They'd heard we were down here, so wanted to make our acquaintances on the way to Hound's Head. Sure, come on down. I'll let the crew know you're here. 

Got most of the gang to say hi (except Zern, of course). The dwarves want to be good guests, so pull out a cask of ale, pass out some cups to share. Cups have the Great Imbiber carved on them. Not our god, but most of Their followers seem happy folk. 

The dwarves want to introduce themselves, possible trade. They're waiting for their kin to come and make a settlement up north, see if the play turns out to be worth it. 

Asked them about what they'd found, if they had a place to overwinter yet. Nope- probably need to build some cabins. Only 'cave' they'd found was an old crypt. Don't know why they weren't interested in setting up camp in it. After all, its occupants wouldn't make any noise. Probably.

Dwarves headed to Hound's Head. Left us the remains of the cask and the cups. Right neighborly.

D66 Unusual Undead

Undead are the bread and butter (and bones and banes) of dungeon spaces. But they get a bit mundane after the umpteenth zombie slain or turned. So, have some random alternatives via the magic D66 table. Some have stated abilities, some are just goofy. And yes, the first d6 value roughly aligns with the hit die. 

The Vampire, by Philip Buren-Jones

D66 Unusual Undead

11: Skeleton, rubbery bones, half damage from anything
12: Skeleton, just the bottom half, keeps bumping into things
13: Skeleton, explodes on destruction, shrapnel damage, 1d6, 10’ radius
14: Skeleton, extra loud and clattery
15: Skeleton, comprised of mismatched parts
16: Skeleton, reassembles after 1d3 turns
21: Zombie, infectious, anyone killed rises as zombie in 1d2 turns
22: Zombie, choreographed dances
23: Zombie, 1d3 extra mouths
24: Zombie, filled with worms and rot grubs
25: Zombie, brains! Acquires memories and spells of victim
26: Zombie, gas-filled, 1in6 chance of releasing poison gas with each damaging blow
31: Ghoul, epicurean, picky
32: Ghoul, surrounded by a disorienting cloud of flies and biting insects (as swarm)
33: Ghoul, swap paralysis for poison (2d4 dmg, save for half)
34: Ghoul, spider-ghoul, spider-ghoul, does whatever a spider thinks is cool...
35: Ghoul, displacing, blurred
36: Ghoul, singing, poet, all drama and rotted capes
41: Wraith, trailing a cloak of darkness
42: Wraith, drains CON
43: Wraith, drains bank account
44: Wraith, fear effect (save or flee 1d4 rounds)
45: Wraith, cold, freezing effect (save or slowed, 1d4 rounds)
46: Wraith, giant, looming (2xHD, increase damage die by one)
51: Mummy, curse-obsessed, creative
52: Mummy, just beetles in wrapping
53: Mummy, just the wrapping
54: Mummy, bored, mostly just wants to give tomb tours
55: Mummy, disorienting effect, intruders lost in sepulchral mazes
56: Mummy, random wrappings: flags, dishtowels, toilet paper, caution tape
61: Vampire, just a bat in a cloak
62: Vampire, bursts into a cloud of canaries
63: Vampire, vegetarian, referred to as a “sapsucker” by their peers
64: Vampire, surrounded by bright lights and shiny things, lots of pink
65: Vampire, speech impediment, wears retainer
66: Vampire, commands vast network of feral cats

The dance of death: Death finds an author writing his life.
Color lithograph by Edward Hull

Download dem bones here

D66 Afterlife Experiences

Well, it happened. One too many blows from the foe, that unseen spear trap, a venomous bite. Your PC is is no more, has ceased to be, is expired and gone to meet his maker, etc.

So what did your PC experience while they waited for their companions to drag their stiffening body back to town and pool enough coin to have them raised?  

Sir Olaf and the Underworld, by Kay Nielsen

D66 Things Your PC Experienced While They Were Dead

D66  Shit, I'm Dead!
11     Tasted ambrosia. All food now tasted like ash.
12     Bickering angels.
13     All of their dead pets.
14     Disappointed ancestors.
15     Screaming. So much screaming.
16     The music of the spheres.
21     One moment of perfect beauty.
22     Naught but the Void.
23     Reboot of the simulation.
24     Looking up at six people around a table.
25     Dude pushing a big rock.
26     Ghosts bumming for change at the Styx.
31     Fiery horses chasing ghostly steers.
32     Dueling harps.
33     Viking party!
34     Line of souls waiting on the rebirth application process.
35     Haunting lessons.
36     Dead rockers jamming.
41     Endless gray plains.
42     Infinite roulette wheels constantly spinning,
43     Three chicks with a spinning wheel, tape measure, and scissors.
44     Anubis weighing hearts.
45     Dead-rights picketers and pamphleteers.
46     Various death gods playing lots for souls.
51     Massive tree boughs holding up the heavens.
52     How did those Mormon missionaries get in here?
53     At least there are no lawyers...
54     Great birds carrying souls toward the dawn.
55     Only 71 virgins.
56     A great serpent constricting the world.
61     Forgotten gods panhandling for worshipers.
62     Cerberus and the Black Dog playing tug-of-war with souls.
63     Poppies everywhere.
64     Great infinite cliffs into the clouds, speck of souls seen climbing.
65     Chaotic funhouse. Clowns everywhere.
66     Eternal bouncers and a red velvet rope.

Download These Afterlives

Playthings of Eternity, by Cardwell Higgins

Campaign Journal: Out And About in Chirath

The dust settled from the arena match, and the party gathered:

• Jax - barbarian
• Frederick - thief
• Slick - thief
• Orzu- gnome
• Fulvus - halfling

Akreos the arena-master gave Jax her cut of the gate takings, and a couple of healing potions, besides. Fulvus showed up, asking if he'd missed anything (He and hench Wene were off getting her outfitted with some plate armor).

Well, since the part had already made a subtle entry into town (hydra kill plus arena victory), the only best option was to now hire a bard...

After some asking about, the party found themselves at the "Hunting Sage," an expansive inn in the mercantile end of the city. Wiping their feet before entering, Orzu asked the proprietor if there might be a bard who may sing the praises of Jax. The owner, a retired dwarven campaigner named Ziri, looked at Jax (who currently consists primarily of scar tissue), and pointed out a well-appointed entertainer from among the possible candidates. 

Orzu introduced himself and Jax to Witha, a distinguished-looking balladeer. She looked them over and asked how she may be of help. Orzu explained that they needed someone to sing the tales of Jax. Jax, of course, is a modest soul, but did add, that Witha could "toot her horn on my behalf." Witha had heard of the hydra hunt (fresh hydra steaks being on the menu in several establishments today), and was happy to meet one of its hunters. Orzu also described the arena match. Witha said she could work with that, and made some notes.

source

Some time later, she announced a new work, set to a traditional ballad, and sung a very acceptable paean to the heroic Jax, who had slain the nuisance hydra, and defeated the twisted beings of the arena, almost single-handedly (some embellishments and exaggeration required). Oh, with a little help from her companions (stinkeye from Slick).