Campaign Journal: Negotiations and Remediations

Due to the three-day weekend, we only had Frederick and Jax. But you run for who shows. And so we went...

The party awoke to see a band of desert elves riding to meet them. Bogumir, the party's guide, walked out to greet the curious elves, who approached riding on a combination of mules, bison, and terror birds. So that's where the curious tracks came from...

Best be polite. 

Bogumir parlayed with the leader for some moments. The leader and a few lieutenants approached, while the rest stayed back, watchful. Findire, the leader, asked why the party was in the desert out of trading season. Frederick replied that they had lumber to trade, and were hoping to negotiate good prices away from the competition. Findire replied, fine, we'll trade you and you can go. A lieutenant inspected the two wagons, finding that the wood was an uncommon northern hardwood. 

Ok, might as well negotiate for real. We need to cross your territory, to reach the desert where the ruby sands might be found. What's your need for the sand? Frederick, roundabout, explained that the ruby was needed to restore the Barrier communication network. Finally, he showed a fragment of ruby lens that the party carried. The elves inspected it, and asked how it involved them. Well, Chaos is on the move after a long time, and twisting nature. We would think that you might find that offensive. Findire and his second, Arielen, discussed. Ok, what to you really have to trade then?

The party threw out their bag of unclaimed magic items, mostly potions and scrolls. The elves poked through them, mostly unimpressed. (Oh, a spellbook, looks like something we give children for reading.) Hmm, what's this book? The elves looked at an unclaimed and unread tome that has been sitting on a shelf in the party's home base. Opening it, a smell of grass and petrichor emerged. Sudden, hushed discussion.

Wait here. We will return with our shaman.

D66 Magic Staves

Time for the good ol' basic stick. Or staff, if you so desire. 

A walking stick, peasant's weapon, or signature accessory of any self-respecting mage:

Enchanted, of course.

Download me here

As always, use with caution:

Diving into list no. 24, which means I need to create another secret list for the next D66 compilation. Any suggestions?

Edit: Doh! Forgot to note. Yes, at least a few staves are based on the Plagues of Egypt, because if a couple of Moses's staff tricks can get into the DMG, why not more?

Shadowdark: Bloggah's Blog #19: Urban Renewal

Get off the top of the fridge!

Hey, why do you keep all the good snacks way up here? I'm starving!

Those are the dog treats!

Whatever. Pigs ear! And bully sticks! No way! You've been holding out on me!

***

... We catch our breaths. Someone finds a healing potion and we split it between Dremont and me. I'm feeling like half the goblin I used to be.

The fog is crawling through the streets. We hear people calling for help - Columbo thinks he hears Godfrey's wife. She's been missing since the fog happened the first time (this time? Last time? This time travel stuff is confusing). Down into the foggy streets and alleys we go, because that's smart. Tarim calls for Serath's aid, and on cue, a Meridon of the Temple of Serath emerges from the fog, one-shotting demons and being a bit full of himself.

Fine, let's go. We step into the fog and I feel it burning and weakening me. Just another day.

Columbo hears Mrs. Godfrey off in the mist and trundles off. Some tentacle demon lurches out of a well to grab him. He pulls loose, chopping at tentacles. Fine. I'll help. Zap. 

let's see if this gets me flagged.

Mr. Meridon gets grabbed by a second demon and Tarim, wanting to make a good impression, sidles over to help.

More hot tentacle action, as the boys swipe at things. I stay out of the way, choking in the foul mist. Damnit, I'm in the middle of a Viking Party. The Meridon yanks me back to life and accuses me of slacking.

They Met at A Tavern 7: Revisiting Kabrel's Tower

New year, new journals...

Another Meetup play report, where I meet strangers and try to kill them... figuratively. Superbowl Sunday was coming up, so I posted up a game titled, "Gaming for Those Not Watching the Game." I had no dog in the hunt, and figured plenty of other folks also approached the game with a rousing, "meh." A neighborhood taphouse was bereft of screens and set aside a table for me. The game of the night was Shadowdark.

Who made it?

• Wes (Elf wizard)
• Davion (Dwarf Knight of St. Ydris)
• Leif (Elf ranger)
• Seana (Human fighter)

I got everyone situated and bumped up to 2nd level. Rolled for hats, as is tradition. 

We started in Neuforde with rumors of not-quite-humans raiding local farms and caravans. The priest in town volunteered a local youth ('Sven') to act as a guide. Knowing the raids came from the southwest, Sven led the party to the overgrown trade road and they picked their way through the alder. 

As is tradition, they were set upon by a party of Chaos mutants consisting of a leader on Damned Horseback and four mooks. The mooks were visibly altered, particularly the one naked dude...

Battle was joined, with the two elves focusing on the leader, and the other two party members going after the mooks. The leader's spells got disrupted enough to have little effect. The dwarf laid about himself with his razor chain. The dwarf and elves badmouthed one another. Sven hid in the bushes.

Two of the baddies were slain, including naked acid-skin guy, and the remaining two mooks and leader fled with one hp each. The dwarf salvaged a dose of acid from the dead mutant and gave it to the ranger as a peace offering. Symbols on the dead mooks implicated a Chaos goddess known for twisting nature.

an old friend

The Hedge-Mage for Old Games and Shadowdark

Whew, its been a long time since I cobbled together a character class! Looks like the last time I dabbled in class creation was the Tabaxi...

That will not do.

So - a couple of things. First of all, I snuck in the "Hedge-mage" at the back of my Brindlegrit Gatehouse scenario, so it's likely that the class went unnoticed. So I wanted to pull it out as its own post.

Secondly, for anyone who's suffered through watching our Shadowdark sessions - If Bloggah the goblin mage happens to level up at the end of a session, I roll his new spells randomly. It just fits the character, and the fact that I enjoy the random nature of magic in Shadowdark (even if my colleagues in the game may not have similarly refined tastes).

So, expanding on that theme, we have the hedge-mage, an unschooled, or perhaps undisciplined, student of magic, who happens to pick up magic wherever and however they can. And therefore, randomly. If fact, they may even be unburdened by the constraints of magical schools or mechanics. Therefore, every spell that they own is rolled randomly.

It may not be to everyone's (or anyone's) taste. But magic should be random, mysterious, and somewhat out of control. That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Anyway, here we have the Hedge-Mage for your generic Old School Funny Dice Game:

Download me!

And for Shadowdark... I formatted the language and table for SD, but didn't duplicate the layout and style because my design skills are one step above crayons and edible school paste.

Download me, too!

AND NOW, SHADOWDARK V. 2.0, updated after a couple of reader suggestions (plus a tweak to the OSR variant).

Slightly shady spellslinger by Nicholas Roerich.

D66 Magic Axes

Behold, more D66 goodness! This time, the doughty battle axe! Favored by dwarves, barbarians, seafaring raiders, and those folks who just like to chop stuff!

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Download Me Here

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Closing in on another dozen lists, so will compile another baker's dozen soon...

Campaign Journal: Dead in the Desert

Oops, behind on my journaling. I have a few sessions to catch up: my OSE campaign, the Shadowdark campaign, and a Shadowdark one-shot.

Let's get to it, shall we?

Slim attendance at the campaign, with several schedule conflicts. So you run for who shows:

• Slick - thief
• Jax - Barbarian
• Rondel - elf

The party headed south, guided by Bogumir, and with two wagons of good hardwoods in tow. Slick occupied his time by pranking Snogriz the assayer. 

The journey was generally uneventful as they travelled a rugged wagon-road. After two days, they arrived at a caravanserai surrounded by a stout wall and offering stables, a tower with lodging, and a well to replenish water. Symas, the proprietor, welcomed Bogurmir, and had his crew unhitch and settle the animals. Slick was pleased to see active guards on the wall, and that the various stablehands looked like they could handle themselves in a scrap.

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Symas questioned why the party was attempting to trade late in the season, and shared that the desert elves had not visited much over the last year. They seemed even more uptight than usual...

The stay at the caravanserai was uneventful, the food fair.

Happy Anniversary

Was poking through my blog last night while scuffling with Google regarding my most recent post flagging, and discovered that I had said "Hi" to the blog community eleven years ago.

Time flies.

Leicester (RIP) says hi from wherever he is...

Shadowdark: Bloggah's Blog #18: Back to Where We Started...

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Shadowdark - Bloggah's Blog #17: The Band Still Hasn't Gotten Back Together Again

Well, you look in a slightly better mood...

Got the days re-set, I think. Forest seems less uptight. But my student done got blowed up.

Sorry to hear. That happens.

You blew up a student, too?

No, can't say that I have.

Can I have these rations?

Those are dog treats. Whatever, go ahead...

***

We stand there, watching what's left of Milos dissolve in the light. I lose more interns that way (OK, well, just this one). 

Whatcha want to do, Dremont? Well, we're in the neighborhood. Might as well go find that relic hammer.

We know it's to the north, past some marshes, so a-slogging we go. At least the marshes may be frozen...

Crossing the marsh, we find a batch of abandoned huts, flooded by the marsh. Dremont notices something in the ice of the march. 

Alligator nose.

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Well, at least we won't have to contend with them. Dremont resists the urge to pick a nose.

Near nightfall, and we stumble on an old low stone wall. It looks in good shape, even for its age. It seems to be surrounding something, but we don't see a gate. So we hop over. Nothing could go wrong with a little trespassing. Standing in the middle of the enclosure is a big ol' menhir.

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