What did I get myself into tonight, and with whom?
- Seana: Zanegar, 1/2 orc Sea Wolf
- Roger: Brom, dwarf Desert Rider
- Chris: Roult, human Basilisk Warrior
- Callista: Erol, elf Priest
- Daniel: Hawk, human Ranger
- Rick: Bjorr, 1/2 orc Paladin
Note: Callista is Chris' granddaughter, who had never rolled dice before this session. This will become important later.
Well, the party docked at Zelkor's Ferry, arriving due to some unfortunate events in the last town across the water.
This, coincidentally (or not) was where a prior party arrived a couple of sessions ago... Note: None of the players (except the Shorter Half) were involved in that session, so it's untrodden territory.
ANYWAY, the DM (who had a trio of available scenarios lined up) mentioned that the party meets some other patched-up adventurers going the other way with a couple of chests of loot. They mention that they got it off some pirates, but you don't need to worry about them. Just the undead dragon.
So much for delving some pre-selected tomb or abandoned mine...
The paladin beelined to the inn to purchase a cask of ale to fortify himself for the adventure. It was determined to be evening anyhow, so everyone eventually followed. They got a bit of background from the militia sergeant and a rough map the adventurers had left. The desert rider asked the priest if undead dragons could still speak and throw spells (WIS roll, dirty 20) - we decided that Erol did well in her Undead Studies classes and suspected that, depending on the cause of undeath, that the dragon was unlikely to still speak.
Things in the inn took a turn when the local blacksmith showed up to play (poorly) her bagpipes. As well as a certain coolness that came over the crowd when another local appeared, Hebetha Solace. Erol's neck hairs stood up a bit as the woman approached the table. I understand you are seeking looking to hunt down the undead dragon. I have associates who are in need of the head. I'll pay you good coin if you are able to retrieve it.
More coin? We're in.
Oh, and she dropped off a pair of Hugo's Healing Potions (tm) as a down payment.
In the morning, the band set off in a somewhat patched-up small sailing boat, captained by the sea wolf, with assistance by the ranger (sailor background). The desert rider hung over the rail, and tried to keep land in sight.
A shark followed the ship, possibly lured by the desert rider's "chumming."
Finding a subtle channel marker among the rocks, the party sailed the ship into the cove. Ah, the wrecked galley. Let's tie up on it (poor roll). Let's repair our ship while a couple of us dispatch that shark that is still following us, and check out the galley.
Now to ferry everyone onto the beach. I'm sure this will be fine...
Everyone poked about and looked at the mess of recent tracks on the beach. They found the sad remains of the bard and fighter, who had died in a cloud of poison. Which of course allowed the DM to stand them up again and attack the party as zombies.
They laid into the zombies, and the priest was recommended to try a turn. She decided not to risk a loss, and instead rolled a Nat 20 to bisect one of the zombies. Ok.
More exploration into the sea cave, and the desert rider, paladin, and ranger find a pile of sand in a side cavern, poking around, then digging with a shield, they uncover three dragon eggs. Which leads to argument over carrying them or leaving them for later. There is a compromise and one is brought along.
During the argument, a large "HUFF" is heard, as the dragon arises from the sand in the far back of the cavern. It drags itself from the sand, and rolls REALLY bad initiative. Party bumrushes it and cause some damage. Priest! Try a turn!
 |
| Yep. |
Even with its bonuses, the dragon couldn't overcome the priest's faith. It faded back into the cave, pursued by the party, who swarmed it and re-killed it, the ranger cleaving its head from its body with his killing blow.
The paladin cut the dragon open, looking for gut-treasure, and was slain by the emerging poison gas cloud. The party dragged him from the gas with grapples and spears (hopefully not causing much more damage) and the priest was able to get him back among the living.
They transported the head and the eggs back to the ship and rooted around in the pirate quarters to find a few trinkets left by the prior party. The desert rider looked for books. He can't read. He just thinks that if you have enough books, you'll get smart.
Now for the big question - why is everything coming back to life here? More poking around, and the ranger sussed out that the water from an underground stream was corrupted somehow. Ok, we're finding the source.
Rest up on the ship, heal, and get failed castings back. Celebrate with that cask of ale.
They left the cove, sailing until they found a break in the cliffs to climb. Tracking inland, they found the stream, and where it disappeared into a sinkhole. More upstream, they encountered several frog-folk, and by means of some pidgin mer-man, were able to discern that the frog-folk were in distress, since the stream's reanimating properties meant that they had to desecrate the bodies of their dead. The party assured them they were looking for the source.
 |
| Good Thing I Have This |
I've used this one before. The party found the discolored stream emanating from the cave and entered. Making sure they didn't get any on their boots. The paladin and ranger checked the side cavern while the desert rider gamely forged ahead. The pair found a sickly-sweet mudpot pool, then the paladin got accosted by a swarm of disembodied skeletal hands.
Their screaming called the priest who went for a turning. Guess what? Yep. 3rd Nat 20 of the night. An explosion of bone dust.
In the meantime, the desert rider was squaring off against a nice set of plate mail animated by another skeleton. He wasn't doing particularly well, and the rest of the party joined in. Which caused the resident necromancer to step from his lair and demand they leave. But failed his spell.
Oh yeah, and the torch burned out. As the party struggled to relight a torch, they were set upon by stinging foes, taking some damage, both physical and poison. Lights on, and they found the culprits - the necromancer's "assistants."
More fighting, and the armored skeleton was put down, followed by the necromancer failing another spell roll, being gravely wounded, and surrendering. The party tied him up. The kobolds, without a boss, fled. The desert rider found the "portable shadow" random treasure.
The necromancer was turned over to the frog-folk for justice.
The party sailed back to Zelkor's Ferry in their twice-patched ship and turned over the dragon head to Hebetha Solace.
Giving an undead dragon's head to a necromancer. No harm can come of this...
DM Notes:
Beginner's luck, eh? I confirmed with Chris that those were, indeed, his dice, and why didn't they ever work that well for him?
Anyway. I'd cleaned out my gaming bag, so had neither my Foxtail map, nor that undead dragon mini, that I'd carried around since the end of the campaign. Fine. The grotto is on the blog. As well as the "4x5" map for the necromancer. So a lot of improv and pulling up resources on the phone. I guess I've done this silly game running enough now, and have enough stuff floating around in my brain or Google Drive.
Shit, did I just start a campaign?
***
Sat in last Monday night in a conversation with Erudite DM and Deathangel's Shadow as we prepare for a Shadowdark campaign.
Skipping this Sunday for another non-dice rolling game with some local significance...
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