Campaign Journal: Why is it Always the Spiders?

(5/18)

The party stands in the cold, stomping their feet by the doors of a nondescript warehouse. We see:

• Jax
• Rondel
• Frederick
• Slick

Magnus Stonewill greets them and loads six casket-sized crates onto the party's wagon. They provide him with the pilfered "crystal ball" taken from Ejnar Winther.

(Wait, if it's fake, what does it really do? Better check the oracle. 45: "Becomes exceedingly dense until it weighs approximately 256 tons." Well then...)

Anyway - west-southwest to an area known as the Barrowlands. No reason. The party overnighted, with no complications. The manikins were activated, and none malfunctioned or failed to act as night guards. So far so good. 

An extended family of goblins was encountered, fleeing more Chaos and avoiding the roads. They were bedraggled, with gaunt wolves pulling travois. Jax shot them a deer while the rest of the party pointed them south to find Queen Adra and her community along the shore of Cobalt Lake. Rough map and fresh provisions in hand, the sad group continued on.

Oh look, a tomb:

thanks Dyson

How convenient. The party entered, interspersed with their new toys. They found a doomed explorer near the entrance. Ah, an auspicious sign. Onward. Broken doors on their right revealed five empty sarcophagi. A few bits of treasure were scattered about, and collected. The southern door was spiked, and the party returned to the main corridor. Entering the first room on the left, they were set upon by three undead knights. 

Surprise!

Henry C's turn attempt failed, and the fight was on. Everyone rolled like crap for a while, undead and party alike. Finally, the party made some progress... Tittering was heard in the corridors. And Rondel and Henry were slowed. A glimpse of eight reflecting eyes, then gone. More chaos, sounds of babbling, and part of the party, as well as most of the manikins, were webbed. Dammit. A magic missile hit Henry. More alien tittering. DAMMIT. 

The Lair of the Pale Toads

Last week, we were introduced to the Pale Toads. To expand on our new friends, they needed a lair, and a bit of a story as to why they have suddenly appeared along the edge of civilization, curious and adventuresome. 

AI Trigger Warning.

The Toads tire of lingering in their dim places, and, curious about those who explore their lands, seek to reach out and make contact. But in that vein, they need a leader to inspire them, and teachers to prepare them to interact with the outlanders.

Fortunately, our little community within the lair has both, and the Toads are ready to seek new lands and new allies. The old Queen seeks a greater calling and legacy for her folk. The priests commune with and teach of the great toad who brought them up. And instructors teach worthy toads the arts they will need to survive in the greater world and the rough language of the foreigners so that they may communicate.

This "adventure" is written more as a settlement or village, with its personalities and resources, than a "lair" to be murderhoboed. YMMV. 

The map was provided by Jean-Claude ''Raznag'' Tremblay. I've used one of his maps before, and have several more in the files awaiting the correct inspiration.

Anyway, welcome to the Lair of the Pale Toads. Try the swamp-beer.

Update: Got called out for the AI art, so I'll address it here, rather than getting into multiple discussions elsewhere. Yes, the Toad images are AI. I happened to find them whimsical and inspiring enough as prompts to write up a couple of posts worth of content. Because I write for fun, after all. This isn't a commercial or professional endeavor. I don't have delusions of adequacy when it comes to my writing. I just put it out there to keep my brain active, and perhaps someone will use a piece of mine at their table one day. And much of what I write here (eleven years of posts, 100+ adventures or scenarios, plus myriad other content) is found inspiration: A good map-space, a piece of history, a photo of an artefact, a scene in a book. But the writing is mine. 

Ironically, I didn't even "create" the Toads' art, but lifted it from Pale Toad's YouTube posts.  

Will I use AI art in the future? Likely not. It doesn't fit the esthetic of my writing and imagined game-space. And AI is considered anathema in plenty of creative spaces. Anyway, I'd rather hunt down an appropriate bit of Hannes Bok or piece of medieval marginalia to illustrate my little adventures or scenarios. The images I use on my posts are attributed to their sources, and anything that I do put up on DTRPG or similar is typically illustrated by either public domain art or purchased art from human creators. 

So, if for some reason this is the first time you've stumbled on my blog, I apologize if AI is your first impression. Feel free to peruse the nearly 650 posts that aren't AI content.

New Class and Ancestry: The Pale Toad

Trying to catch up on the creative work, drafts upon drafts. Certain other obstacles need to be overcome via other means.

Decoy computer, working computer 

So. The Pale Toads. Where did they come from?

Well, this channel came across my YooToob feed, offered by the inscrutable algorithms. OR because I listen to quite a bit of ambient or synthwave while working. Anyway, the channel's namesake AI-produced adventurer-toads needed a bit of a story, or at least to be statted up for some possible play.

Friendly little guy

Over the last seasons, the Pale Toads have arrived from unnamed swamplands and dank caverns, their skin pale from the dim lands that they tread. Their antediluvian eyes reflect wisdom and stoicism. They are curious for knowledge, to perhaps offer trade, or to join in an adventure. The Toads' outward waddling, awkward appearance vanishes with a powerful lunge or silent disappearance into the water.

Campaign Journal Catchup 2: Sneaking and Scrying

(4/13)

Oh look, the gang is prepping for another heist:

• Jax
• Rondel
• Frederick
• Slick

Time for intelligence - gathering. 

Some quick questioning of Solange - she confided that the "doll" had been secured by a third party, but that she or her contacts had no direct information on who may have tipped off Stonewill. Even though allegiances were fluid, the various guilds in town recognized that they had better odds coexisting, so direct conflict or betrayal was not in their best interests. That said: Ejnar Winther is a powerful member of the Merchants Guild. A half-elf by heritage, who keeps his skills and talents close to the vest. I'm sure a break-in will be a trivial affair...

Easy enough. Party members reconnoitered the half-elf's somewhat ostentatious residence - a converted temple, formerly of the Temple of Combris, a deity of merchants and messengers. An informant notified the party that Winther and other guild members were gathering for an emergency meeting that evening. 

Was the party going in through the sewers again? Nah. Wouldn't want to stink up the carpets. 

Rondel did some invisible flying about and spotted a rooftop hatch on the building's tower. Good enough. Nightfall, and well, there was a lot of overly-complicated sneaking, climbing, flying, and manipulation of various spheres of invisibility and silence to reach the roof of the temple. I won't belabor the sequences. We've all watched (or taken part in) a party taking 30 minutes to breach a door.

Artist's rendition of the suspects...

Finally, the roof. Slick inspected the hatch, noticing a rune or two. Best leave it be. Down the side of the building to a less securely-trapped window. More shuffling and sequencing. 

Down through a couple of chambers, converted from the building's religious past. The party did some major filching in Winther's office, avoiding a trapped bookcase and clearing out his petty cash.

No apparent scrying device, though. Down we go to the main level. 

It's dark, too dark. Dammit.

FOOM, and light! And Winther with two of his guild compatriots sitting and waiting for the party. Took you long enough. We're famished. Drinks and hors d'oeuvres, perhaps?

Campaign Journal Catchup: An Invitation to Dinner

Been remiss on my campaign journal summaries - Between other obligation and distractions, took a couple of weeks off to visit the hinterlands and take care of my property back there: 

Slick would touch it.

(3/30)

We return to our scene within the Smoking Isles with: 

• Jax
• Rondel
• Frederick
• Slick
• Fulvus

The party continued their discussions with the priests and Librarians of Athenard. The Library Paladins compared intelligent swords with Jax. Slick stole a mitre from one of the priests and got called out by a Librarian Paladin and her particularly-talented sword as he invisibly crept from the ship. 

Ok, we're just going to get into trouble here. Let's go to Chirath and get into trouble there, instead.

Across the Maranan Sea to a dock in the fishing/warehouse/general thievery part of town.

source

Disembarking, and a quick visit to Eddy's Fish, where the code phrase got them into the basement meeting hall of the Hidden Hand Tavern. Guild thief Solange appeared, notified by a silent signal. What news since we've been gone?

Well, a few troop ships have gone down/missing while crossing from Athnard, leading to the loss of additional reinforcements and increased concern. The city's library has collected a few rare books through trade from the Khanate's mobile libraries in the north. A patrol of elven rangers departed to seek out an old brass dragon rumored to live in the mountains. Word of more raids and depopulated settlements have filtered along the trade roads.

The party considered these things. In the meantime, Fulvus connected with a crew of halflings who agreed to take his growing collection of taxidermied heads to Neuforde, and to pass along some messages to allies and acquaintances.

Well, what now?