Tag Archives: Arvan

The Cabal of Eight Pt.1: Amber & Gold

In one of the rented clubrooms in the back of the Red Helm Inn, a cabal of young mages meets to The Red Helm Taverndiscuss its mission and commit its member’s signatures to its binding charter. At its center, around the worn and marked mahogany table sit the seven mages, all known to one another for quite some time, colleagues, maybe even friends.

The foremost of these is Belrae Crokosa, an Ivoran of Creschan descent his purple robes bearing his chosen heraldic symbol, a green frog. Likewise, the second officer of this secret cabal is Riahm Iziani in patterned blue silks with a bright yellow waist and neck sash after the Hyvalian fashion, an Ivoran Bard/Sorcerer and the group’s link to a choice few contacts in the college as displayed by his half brown, half green cloak.

The clubroom itself was a small octagonal affair paneled in old dark stained wood decrepit with craquelure. Additionally, he small and sparse shelves were overrun with the detritus of past guests, empty inkbottles, scraps of rotting paper, multitudinous candle stumps, and decomposing ink quills. All peppered with a fine sheet of pale dust. The old moth-eaten red curtains were thrown back letting in the light of early evening which wandered into the small chamber from over the tops of much taller buildings and houses. Two windows lay to the southeast and northeast, a small stone wood-fronted built-in fireplace in the north wall, and the door, currently shut and locked, lay in the west wall.

Another of the group was Ilna of Nezorik or “Bumble” as the other members nicknamed her. A native Ezmerian, she’s the eldest daughter of a prominent merchant in Ezmer, her membership in the cabal doubtlessly due to her family’s resources. She’s short, overweight, and wearing a patterned yellow silk robe with a black silk cord belt fixed with a jade clasp. Her cloak and apron bear a pattern of alternating black and yellow chevrons. Her painful shyness is apparent, as is her uncommon clumsiness.

Next, the secretary of the cabal, Jirek the Scribe of Arebas, is a lifelong scholar with access to the College Library where he works as a librarian. He has no life experience outside of it. He wears a simple brown tunic and pants secured with a black leather belt. With him is his portable writing desk and writing kit as he is also a scrivener.

Opposite these were Fauna the rogue druid (played by Jenn), Gornix the Ivoran wizard (played by Gil), and Excor the mage (played by Cris). Excor being the last member to sign the cabal’s charter slid the parchment to Jirek after he had finished scratching his name. With that, Belrae brought the first official meeting of the unnamed cabal to order. However, after deciding there was no business as of yet to bring to the table the members brought up random points of interest.

Jirek: “There’s a funded expedition going for a 7-day south of the city into the Red Lowlands to some ruins. It’ll be under the oversight of a cloaked Surveyor and Curator. Might last a while though.”

Bumble (snorting and bouncing in her seat as she pulled it out): “Ooh! Ooh! Here’s something! I think it might be magic. I sensed something weird from it onetime.”

Nearly spilling the open bottle of wine in the process, she revealed a palm sized piece of polished amber with what appeared to be a golden bee caught at its center.

Bumble: “My master uses it as a paperweight.”

Accordingly, the PCs grunted as they had already guessed as to whom her master was and it figured he would do something like that.

Excor (played by Cris): “So. Who exactly is your master? His name?”

Bumble: “Xanto, a master mage from Skullhead.”

That elicited a collective groan from the players.

Excor (pointing his pipe at Riahm): “Well! What about you! Got any bardic knowledge for us?”

Riahm: “Well, I know a shipment of naphtha is coming by ship from the Hill-Lands within the month or so. Something going on concerning ‘Creschan Fire’ around the harbor district. There’s an alchemist there leasing a warehouse guarded by Bortorro mercs and a Creschan Captain with a ship. Don’t have any names yet. The Hyvalians and the Ivorans are lurking; something’s gonna go down.”

Gornix (played by Gil): “Interesting.”

Belrae: “There’s also a black ship from the Deadlands docked at Slavers’ Wharf. The Silver Owl is the name I think. A famous fight manager came in on it with his fighter Skullsmash, a half-giant. The manager’s name was Xinn. Their working the fighting pits in the Slavers’ Quarter.”

His tone shifted to a humorous one though it still seemed that he was only half joking.

Belrae (smiling): “Maybe we should buy a zombie from the ship eh! Eh? *ahem*”

Gornix fake laughed as a result of Belrae’s weak attempt at humor and engaged him in “small talk”. The white wizard poured some wine from the dusty bottle delivered from downstairs, compliments of the publican. The bottle was a good vintage though not very expensive.

Excor: “So. Anyone know where to get some Yellow Lotus? No? Hmm.” He then realized he had a contact which could “hook him up”. He made a note to visit her when he had the chance. He lit his freshly packed pipe with a prestidigitation spell.

In due time, Gornix and Excor spent an hour copying down a spell from the other’s grimoire (these being Neutralize Poison and Ghost Form respectively). After finishing this task, Gornix tried to engage the bard for a beer downstairs but Riahm said that post-meeting him and Belrae had some “business” with which to attend.

The gang sat chatting for only a few more minutes and when the chatter died down Belrae adjourned the first meeting of the as-of-yet unnamed cabal. He mentioned that meetings would be end-weekly at dusk. Each member in turn took a small brass key that opened the simple iron lock on the clubroom door for his or her own. The librarian and part-time scribe packed up his writing equipment after recording the last hour of the meeting and headed out the door answering an invite from the PC’s with a terse “I have a scribing job after”.

So the remainders decided to go down into the tavern. Without delay on the way out Excor snatched up the wine bottle. Fauna noticed that Bumble was lingering behind with a bowed head seemingly disappointed they didn’t invite her.

Jenn (Fauna’s player): “Awww. I feel bad for her. I invite her!”

The young mages began to depart their meeting as the orange-gold light of dusk fell through the leaded diamond pane windows . In time the purple moon in the eastern sky would fade as night slowly rose. The cabal room overlooked the corner of Silver Circle and Western Avenue the streets of which were teaming with people of all stripes. The Red Helm Tavern itself sits on this corner straddling the edge of the West Quarter with the start of the Shop District just across Silver Circle street to the northeast, these being only two districts of the many comprising the whole of the ancient city of Ezmer.

The ancient city survived the Druid Schism from which the Bardic College of Ezmer arose and a shift of faith from that of the founding Druids to that of the Brighthouse imported from Crescent Moon by Creschan sailors and missionaries. When the verminous hordes (savage ratlings) raged across the west of Arvan the city itself was at the very edge of its ravening only suffering through the short threat of the hordes final phase, the Red Horde. But all that was 600 years ago.

The gang tumbled down the narrow wooden stair onto the ground floor of the tavern walking around from behind the bar into the taproom. They found the place was jumping and crowded with the usual clientele; laborers, clerks, and shopkeepers. A white but fragrant stratum of smoke hung in the air. Floating over that layer of pipe-smoke, they could hear the sweet music of the songstress from the small theater at the other end of the place.

Thereupon Draiga Skullshine, the publican of the Red Helm glided over the well-worn floorboards to accost them.

Draiga: “Ah! My young friends! Come, come. Did you like the wine I sent up to you? Good, I’m happy. Here let’s all chat a little the drinks are on me!” The gaudy costume jewelry on his fingers clinked as he put his left hand to his chest.

Draiga was a tall heavy-set man with a clean bald pate. He was in his early to mid-forties and spoke with a Poisonwood accent. His clothing was of fine patterned black silks with a broad crimson waist sash. He was a charming fellow and always curious about and eager to talk to his “young friends” whenever he saw them. Of course, he didn’t occupy the apartment traditionally reserved for the publican in the tavern, Draiga lived in the well-to-do Western Cliffs District.

Gornix, Fauna, and Bumble take Draiga up on his offer. Excor on the other hand simply kept on walking eventually settling into an open table in the theater. Those at the bar with the publican chatted some until Draiga revealed that he had the inside skinny on the pit fights. His contact was the newly arrived manager of Skullsmash, if anyone should want to make some bets. He was also a bookie.

The young mages raucously drank ale for a couple of more hours until Fauna made a comment about Bumble chowing down on a big plate of Bittles (balls of ale-soaked bread drizzled in honey) and how much it might cost.

Bumble: “But he, he said it was free! *sputter* Why’re you laughing? … I’m going home!” She leapt off her stool and nearly tripped before leaving in a sudden huff pushing past an approaching Excor.

Excor (wine drunk and with a belly full of fish and fish sauce): “What’s her problem?”

Jenn (Fauna’s player): “Aww. I feel so sorry for her. *gasp* Oh no! Her master’s gonna be mad at her!”

Fauna picked up Bumble’s paperweight from the ale-soaked bar. She put it in her robes with every intention of returning it to her later. Meanwhile Excor, unconcerned, turned the conversation between Fauna and Gornix towards the question of finance. Suddenly, Draiga who had buzzed away quite a while ago appeared out of nowhere.

Draiga: “Well, my young friends I might have a happy solution for you.”

Thus, he quickly gathered them up and hurried them down to the basement after signaling the bar-back. He sat them down at a small table after lighting an oil lamp and began to talk.

Draiga: “So. Let’s talk business, shall we.”

To Be Continued…

The Cabal of Eight: Intro

Well, work on the Arvan setting continues and I am still exercising the material in the games that I GM. This new campaign has had a few stops and starts but now on its way to clear and open road. Hence, I’ll begin to blog it as I have the others in the past.

This campaign I call The Cabal of Eight. It takes place in the city of Ezmer at the tip of the Ezmerian headland extending into the Silverset Sea. This sphere collectively named Ezmeria. All characters are mages and involved in a secret cabal with the mission of enriching members and gaining influence.

The Player Characters are Gornix a Level 1 Wizard played by Gil, Fauna a level 1 Druid played by Jenn, and Excor a level 1 Mage played by Cris. Gornix is young Ivoran Wizard in white robes with a grey cloak, the emblem its back, a salt-water lotus on a starfish. He wields a wood staff with a quartz crystal in its head. Fauna, a young Southlander woman, dark-skinned, red-haired, with violet eyes has a tendency towards hotheadedness. Excor is a young Ivoran mage but dresses and tries to speak as a Westlander. He’s a schemer and a gambler. It has also become evident as well that he has other secrets as Gornix has realized that Westlander wannabe is of noble blood just as himself.

They find themselves at a table in a small, leased clubroom in the second story of the Red Helm Tavern in the West Quarter of the city of Ezmer. Across from them are four other mages…

Weird Races #6 – The Okisibuso

Okisibuso, a strange race of para-elemental humanoids where one-half of their bodies is solid stone. The PDF contains stats for the base race itself, a warrior and Stone-Walker NPCs. Also a brief description of their culture and ethnicity, and mass combat unit stats. The package also includes a unique racial class, the Stone-Walker, and a form of stylized martial arts, Stone Fist Wrestling.

Weird Races are pre-generated fantasy races for Dice & Glory. At the discretion of Game-Masters (GMs) Weird Races can add richness and variety to their game worlds easily and quickly. Because the Okisibuso are fleshed out enough GM’s can drop them into game-sessions using them immediately without any prep-work beyond reading the document.

Weird Races #6 – 760k

Earth worshiping half-stone Men!

Design Motives behind Dice & Glory

This is somewhat of a ramble about the design decisions that I made with Dice & Glory, both the Hands of Designsystem and the books themselves. And how choice and circumstance shaped and continue to shape them.

Initial Design Motives

I first wanted to write a ttRPG sometime in 1998. I decided on a generic system design early on. Preferably, I wanted a system where I could build a world through improvisation. The early drafts of what would become Dice & Glory are not worth mentioning other than the first two drafts both exceeded 1,000 pages in length.

My mistake with those first drafts: I included the core rule-set with chapters containing the concrete components for the game. These components that were built with those rules. Components being such things as monsters, spells, skills etc. To correct this, I split the unnecessary game crunch from the core rules and those of character creation.

It took a few years to refine the rules and switch out certain systems. Especially those that were either too rules-heavy or clunky. All through what was essentially, play testing. The names of many of the character attributes in the game were somewhat different from the current. Due to the confusion of players at the time, I decided to use names that would be more recognizable. At about this time I also realized many other RPG systems used identical attributes but all had their own names for them. I thought it best to use the most popular and recognizable of these for the equivalent attributes in my system.

This eliminated the potential for confusion. Any players with a moderate amount of experience could recognize the base attributes for what they were.

Characters & Crunch

When it came to the player characters, I decided on Character Classes. It was the ease of identifying a character’s in-game role by their class. However, I decided to strip them to the bone to create the general classes. This design would allow maximum malleability and customization potential. Stripping the classes generated the bare-bones classes of Adventurer, Brick, Clergy, Fighter, Mage, Psychic, and Mage. Upon these skeletons, all the Specialist classes are fleshed. I strove for a fully customizable system so I included rules on how to build any such Specialist Class. These being the classic form of character classes found across ttRPGs.

This led to chapters that included rules on how to generate all sorts of bits found in a roleplaying game. These being things such as equipment (particularly weapons and armor), monsters, other races, and spells. This in turn led to the writing of other components such as psionics, which I wanted to discern from magic. I also created a basic outline for how the universe as a whole functioned. I also included ideas for building in-game technology.

It took until 2006 to release the first edition and a cut-down free edition. There was a preliminary release of a pre-first edition. Fortunately, not many people noticed or purchased these. The problem with the first edition aside from several editing snafus was that certain abilities repeated throughout having duplicates in most of the subsystems. Not to mention the amount of crunch was a level above overdose.

Versions & Aesthetics

I’ve re-edited the game multiple times, refined it in a revised edition, and then a second edition since then. I have no plans for a third edition but I will continue to write the resource manuals. These manuals consist of the bits that I couldn’t fit into the Core Rulebook. The bits and crunch not core to the game but necessary to populate it. These accessory manuals arose from the initial need to split the crunch from the core in the first place.

Essentially, I wanted a rule-set that I could use for any genre of game. And have it fully customizable for both players and the Game-master. I wanted rules that could easily generate any crazy thing that I could imagine and throw it at my players. The aesthetics of the books however are born mostly out of budgetary constraints and lack of personal talent. However that said, I don’t much care for the highly polished, artificial, and impractical look of most contemporary fantasy art.

I like the more individualistic art and too much polish tends to deter me. Don’t get me wrong I like a lot of professionally produced art. However, it’s never attracted me to RPG material as more identifiable and amateurish work has. Of course, due to budgetary constraints the responsibility to complete most of the illustrative work falls on my shoulders on many of the books.

World Settings & Dragons

The game has remained world-less for the simple reason that its designed as a generic/universal system. In addition, I’ve needed the time, always at a premium, to create a cohesive fantasy world. I wrote the titular world setting Arvan as a sword & sorcery & sandal in mind. Some of it inspired by the fiction that I read. Note that I tend to read in manic insatiable bursts consuming several books in a row then suddenly slowing down (or stopping altogether) until the next spree. I’ve tried my best to get away from overused tropes of the genre. Especially its well-known trappings like dwarves and elves.  I’ve also striven to include uncommon races and creatures, aside from the dragons.

The dragons of Arvan take after very specific literary references with a lot of my own creativity going into them to give them depth in nature and character. Their design was to give them a place in nature as well as in super-nature. The kernel of my Draco-lore built and outlined in a splat-book, a monster manual, called the Monster Magnus Vol. I.

In collecting certain types of game information in several books, I intended that the core rules be modular. All one needs to play and to create whatever else necessary for a game being the core rules. In other words, just the Core Rulebook is required.

Explore Imagination

Budgetary and time constraints have shaped and colored the core rule design, all of the published material, as well as the tons of stuff yet to see the light of day. The real trouble is in collating, structuring, and editing the masses of info and ideas I can generate. The only part of Dice & Glory that a GM and Player group would require is the Core Rulebook. The crunch books for Dice & Glory are different, I hope, from the typical disposable splat-book in that; they contain the pregenerated concrete components needed to populate games. Allowing groups to mix and match to their hearts’ desires when they have the blocks to build with as well as the ability to shape and carve blocks of their own. Hopefully striving for the outer limits of their imaginations with increased ease. At least I hope so.

 

Announcements & Arvan

Blog entries and new articles will be slowing down to a crawl for the remainder of the year due to simply life getting in the way and due to work on Arvan.

Blog Entries

The gaming blogs will be slowing down due to a redoubled effort on Arvan and members moving and work. I have been mastering a game which is barely past its ninth session since June. So I won’t be posting what I have any time soon. I typically don’t start posting till after around session 12. The campaign is in the city of Ezmer concerning a player group of mages.

The Arvan Setting

The Arvan setting has shifted into high gear with the last pass of editing and me struggling to finish the illustrations. For budgetary reasons I am unable to hire on any illustrators for the remainder of this project. The maps have reached their rough draft stage and the larger frontispieces have been completed but as it stands today only the intro, TOC, and Chapters 1 & 2 have been fully illustrated. Unfortunately, this makes a November release date highly unlikely. We have not given up on a December release however.

Future Plans

We have been planning and continue to amass material for 3 projects for next year concerning dwarves, monsters, and more magic! If all goes to plan these 3 projects will follow by some months the release of the Arvan setting. Hopefully in rapid succession.

Necromancing Xuun Pt.12: Funny Little Death Games Pt.3

That evening half-hill-giant Skull-Smash whom the odds favored would be the opponent to Skull BashBludbaer as finale to the Pit Games. The official gladiatorial games would kick off with a fair the next day. Then the crowds and their money would flock to the bigger venues.

Jíen the necromancer greeted the morning sun with little enthusiasm. He stared out over the walled courtyard from the second story bedroom window. There were throngs of people trailing brightly colored streamers and waving flags everywhere. It made no difference to the dark mage. Through his eyes all was insubstantial. The sun drenched sky was a dull grey and an ethereal cloud obscured the distance even on the clearest day. The throngs of the living were as transparent as an army of colorful ghosts.

There were also bands of paladins and guardsmen on patrol among them. The young Deadlander thought it best if he stayed inside until he was to take his fighter to the match. He occupied himself by brewing potion (Aura of the Dead) using the adobe villa’s kitchen and a few secret ingredients. Later he stored it in one of the empty potion bottles he had been carrying on his person. The potion was of the highest quality.

The rest of the day he spent repairing, mostly stitching and channeling negative energy, the massive damage Bludbaer the mindless Dread Guard had sustained the previous day. It was nearly sundown when Jíen had finished his work almost restoring the creature to full capacity.

Evening came and the young necromancer brought his fighter/creature to the arena with no incidents on the way. There were a few prize matches beforehand then came the main event, Bludbaer versus Skull-Smash. All proceeded as before and soon the large heavily muscled opponents were facing off against each other in the ring. Bludbaer though huge was dwarfed by the half-giant who was wielding a heavy wooden great club.

The bell for the first round rang and Skull-Smash came out swinging landing two massive bone-crunching blows on Bludbaer one after the other dropping him. Immediately Jíen played it up doing the pantomime of a bereaved and ruined manager imploring the crowd to cheer for the miraculous rise of the fallen gladiator. It actually worked, the crowd roared for Bludbaer. So, the necromancer had the fallen fighter rise again. (Out-of-Game I did it to steal away Skull-Smash’s crowd bonus against my guy which Gladiators can get when being cheered on.)

It wasn’t long before Bludbaer was again smashed down without landing a single blow. However, Jíen playing his part as flamboyant fight manager worked his crowd-magic again and once again Bludbaer slowly, and what appeared to all, painfully rose to his feet. The look of disbelief on the half-giant’s face was priceless (unfortunately he didn’t suffer any morale penalties). Jíen however knew that if his creation dropped once more it would be the last.

Skull-Smash landed another horrid blow onto the battered corpse of Bludbaer but on the backswing the Dread Guard parried with his great sword catching the half-giant in a clinch. The crowd went wild. Suddenly, Bludbaer broke free and chopped into the giant, the crowd began to flip completely over to Bludbaer. Skull-Smash nearly silenced the crowd with a mighty roar and put all of his power behind a horrifyingly powerful finishing blow.

The crowd gasped and was silent for the instant before they let loose a deafening roaring cheer. The boneless mess of a corpse in the dirt of the arena that used to be Bludbaer lay at the feet of the triumphant Skull-Smash. Jíen stood wide-eyed and stunned. He was out of a lot of money. Then horror struck him and he rushed into the ring to salvage the corpse before the Disguise Undead rune branded on its forehead faded in its power.

All would see that Bludbaer was really a mass of rotted meat pilfered from the grave if that should happen. In fact, that’s what the potion of Aura of the Dead was for. He would shout that it was a vial of poison to his accusers, drink it, and then feign death. Fortunately a cloaked and hooded stranger helped him with his frantic work of hauling the broken but still very heavy body away on a cart that the stranger had conveniently helped the necromancer procure.

The Stranger: “It’s me.”

Jíen (Played by Me): “What?”

The Stranger lifted up his hood revealing himself to be Trantox the assassin.

Trantox (Played by Jenn): “It’s me. You tried to get me killed!”

Jíen: “What me? No! No I did not!”

Trantox (with a Yeah-Right scowl on his face): “I was there about 5 ft. away when you talked to that Naga. Hiding.”

Jíen: “Oh. Um. I thought I’d get paid more. He ripped me off.”

Trantox: “You know I should totally kill you right now.”

Jíen: “Um, uh. Hmmm. Don’t you have bigger problems right now? Like the Shakai.”

Trantox: “That’s why I found you. Um, huh what?”

The necromancer looked at the assassin like he was crazy before realizing his attentions had diverted to talking to the intelligent dagger. Jíen shuddered.

Trantox: “Naw we won’t kill him yet. We won’t kill you yet but the dagger wants bloooood, so don’t cross us again.”

Jenn was wagging her finger at me. Sheesh.

The necromancer and the assassin delivered the mutilated, rotten pile of meat and shattered bone to the charnel house. The pair decided to walk back to the Troll and wait for whatever would come besides Jíen had a debt to pay off. On their way out of the charnel house a street rat stopped them and passed them a message that Dravor (played by Gil) had skipped town with the dark priest Exvorum (Gil couldn’t continue the campaign as his work schedule had changed). The pair shrugged and continued on.

The dark duo made it to the Whiskey Troll Tavern later that night very near the middle of the night. The place was mostly empty save for those huddled at a table in the corner. These were the Half-giant Skull-Smash, his manager the faun, a human fighter in chainmail (probably a bodyguard), and a saloon bum. All were fairly drunk and the table was packed with mostly empty vessels and half-eaten food.

Jíen settled his debts with the faun and while doing so had noticed the bulging sack of gold at the faunic manager’s side. Skull-Smash’s winnings were substantial. The necromancer returned to his coconspirator’s side and together they hatched a plan. They ordered drinks for the whole place and before the waitress took the pitcher to Skull-Smash’s table the assassin dropped some paralysis toxin into it. Then the villains sat back and waited.

After an hour it was apparent that the poison had only affected the faunic manager and the fighter. The giant, though extremely drunk, showed absolutely no sign of the toxic effect. The saloon bum on the other hand seemed a bit stiff in the joints but otherwise he was okay as well. Trantox began mumbling to his dagger again and was preparing for a fight by oiling its blade with poison. Jíen was getting nervous.

Suddenly, a naga in a black-dragon hide cloak wearing a golden snake mask with emerald & onyx scales appeared right in front of the dark duo’s table. The creature pointed at Trantox and then his dagger shouting, “Thief! Return what you have stolen now!”

Another naga slithered from behind a pillar equipped with a naginata, there were undoubtedly more slithering about in the shadows of the musty tavern. Trantox stood and seemed to want to give up the dagger but simply could not bring himself to do it.

Cris (the GM): “Its not gonna let you do that. It’s want blood.”

Jenn (after failing the dagger’s ego check): “Awe man. I guess I’ll attack the cloaked guy then.”

Trantox (gnashing his teeth and sneering at the Cloaked Naga): “You’re gonna have to pry it from my cold dead hands!”

The assassin lunged at the cloaked naga but the one with the polearm leapt in front of the blow taking the point and the poison. The cloaked naga, recognizable as a mage, cast a spell that Jíen recognized as Bone Blast. The assassin’s left arm went limp as the bone shattered. The necromancer, while no one was paying him any mind, calmly but quickly moved over to the half-giant’s table.

Skull-Smash was completely embroiled in the fight before him. The necromancer eased over to the side of his unconscious manager and drew out a black pearl from his robe. The naga mage cast another spell and Trantox froze in place as another naga fighter slid from the shadows over to him.

Jíen noticed on closer inspection that the body guard was actually dead ( rolled a Natural 1 on his save) so the necromancer cast Animate the Dead and shoved the black gem into the corpse’s gaping mouth with orders to attack the drugged and sleeping manager. It immediately rose and coup de graced Skull-Smash’s manager. But the giant hadn’t noticed as at that same moment another naga fighter used his curved sword to decapitate Trantox.

So harnessing his experience as a gladiator manager, Jíen shot up and shouted, “Look! That evil wizard has cursed your companion and he’s killed your manager!”

The howl of anguish that escaped the mighty lungs of Skull-Smash rattled the bones of everyone in the place and froze the naga mage in his place his hand inches from plucking the prized dagger from the assassin’s headless corpse. The table splintered and flew as the half-giant kicked it away and charged the naga assassins wielding his great club. Jíen absconded with the sack of gold just before the carnage began.

Later, safe back at the villa, Jíen found that the sack held 20 gold talons stamped with unfamiliar hill-lander brands, 600 platinum pieces, and 1,000 gold pieces. Combined with his stash he was pretty well off. However, his companions were either dead or fled away. There were paladins patrolling the street and the city was probably going to carry out a no tolerance policy for the 7-day while the games were taking place.

Jíen the Deadlands necromancer thought hard about the direction his life had taken and quickly decided on what he would do with the rest of it. After all, managing fighters was very profitable and he knew where to get a real champ in need of a manager. Even if the champ didn’t survive the fight with the nagas Jíen could always fix that.

The End

Campaign Played between February and May 2016

Afterword: Skull-Smash did survive that fight by the way and Jíen was able to talk his way into becoming his manager. Go figure.

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Necromancing Xuun Pt.11: Funny Little Death Games Pt.2

Game day, the morning the pit-games were to begin. The pit-games functioned as an amateur Weapons fit for a fighterfighter-league apart from the formal and in some respects over regulated official gladiatorial circuit. The fighters matched according to general size and weight with some attention paid to their respective physical prowess and strength. Armor restricted to the arms, legs, and the center of the chest. Other bits legal if both opponents are equipped similarly. Weapons were similarly regulated and rigorously inspected more so than the fighters.

Just before dawn Jíen got his fighter to the arena. It was a large stone building with coliseum seating covered by an awning-like ceiling under which lay the vault-ceilinged galleries. The wounded tended to and fighters vetted and equipped within. Also under the stone step-seats was the entry gallery where vendors sold their wares and bets tendered. The ring was a dirt floor surrounded by a shallow moat meant for the handlers, referees, and judges. On opposite sides of the arena were the gates through which the fighters would enter the ring.

Jíen’s fighter Bludbaer was to face off against one Zurat, a Westlander savage armed with a double-sword. The place was bristling with flags, banners, and ribbons of every color imaginable. The fight doctor cleared Zurat, his face painted with evil blue designs. The doctor moved over to Bludbaer as Zurat jaunted out of sight to await the match behind his assigned gate. The doctor cleared Bludbaer after a cursory glance. Jíen let out a relieved breath.

The Swampers’ Guild was backing Zurat and Jíen couldn’t resist making a gentleman’s bet that his fighter would win. Pit fights continued until one of the competitors couldn’t. They were almost always a death-match. The bookies gave Bludbaer 2-to-1-odds in his favor. Jíen took that bet.

It wasn’t long before Jíen collected 290 gp from the swampers but Bludbaer had taken a fair amount of damage (a whopping 20 Hit Points). Fortunately the wine-blood gambit had proven believable to all onlookers. So much so that White Star healers kept approaching and offering their services for a small charge. So the necromancer quickly shuffled his fighter into a quiet corner of the hospital gallery and repaired the undead thing’s damage the best he could using his Necrology (and spell slots).

The next match and the last of the day for Jíen’s creature would be against a double-axe wielding fighter named Scarnor but the odds were again on Bludbaer’s side. Again, it was a short bout and the necromancer took 2,075 gp in winnings. At the end of a very bloody day the fighters left in competition were Baenox Blood-Axe, Zarcar the faun (Rantcor’s “guy”), Skull-Smasher a half-hill-giant, and Bludbaer. After some of the officials began making off-hand comments that Bludbaer had an uncanny resemblance to another fighter, one who had come in second place last year Jíen took that as a sign to get out of there quick. He was long gone when they remembered the second place fighter’s name, Baercor.

Later at the Troll packed and noisy with fight fans, Jíen fed Bludbaer red wine which several fans were also sending over to the table. It was soon crowded with bottles, tin goblets, and wood cups by the time the necromancer retreated with his fighter back to the tomb.

The next day at midday, Bludbaer was again in the arena facing off with Zarcor the Rockhollow faun armed with a trident and gladius. The odds were 10 to 1 in favor of Zarcor. Jíen bet 2,000 gp on Bludbaer. Emboldened by his observation of the pit doctor, Jíen had cast Invigoration of Unlife into his creation just before leaving the tomb that morning heightening his fighter’s abilities a few notches.

The fight was a desperate one nonetheless. Bludbaer fell quickly and Jíen mentally controlling the undead fighter from the sidelines put his charisma to use. He howled and pulled at his hair and actually got the crowd to begin chanting Bludbaer’s name. That’s when he allowed the creature to rise again to wild cheers from the bloodthirsty throng. Though as a result it’s Negative Aura (the animating force behind the undead and their abilities) diminished (permanent -1).

The second round was brief. Bludbaer chopped down the unbelieving faunic warrior. The arena was erupting with chants of Bludbaer! Jíen’s take on that fight was a respectable 18,000 gp. Only 8,000 of it was given in coinage however, the rest was in a Writ. The matches concluded with Skull-Smash wining his match in quite the messy fashion. The other fighters were either dead or too wounded to continue progressing through the ranks. It would be Bludbaer versus Skull-Smash the next day with 5 to 1 odds in Skull-Smash’s favor. Jíen was hoping for a massive payday as he had a plan forming in his wicked little brain.

Jíen with his bandaged fighter in tow (just to keep the healers away) went straight to the betting tables to make a 10,000 gp wager. A grizzled faun introducing himself as Skull-Smash’s manager approached the young necromancer and the two began a bragging contest which the faun won. After a little more verbal sparring the young necromancer became flustered and ended the conversation with “oh yeah”! He then went on to place the 10,000 gp on Bludbaer to win on the morrow because “that’s how unsure” he was about his own fighter. The young necromancer walked hurriedly away back towards the tavern eager to leave the arena behind when he stopped suddenly in his tracks as a sudden realization smashed into his brain.

Me (Jíen’s Player): “$#!*”

Cris (the GM): “Ahahah! That’s right! You were supposed to bet AGAINST yer guy! Nope! You already made the bet! Ah-hahaha!”

Later at the Troll the necromancer again found himself talking to the faunic manager of Skull-Smash. After a few rounds, on the faun of course, they decided to wager a little side bet; 2,000 gp each winner take all. After that Jíen sat back, drank, and ate a little more.

Later in the night, the necromancer saw some Scael Nagas surround a peasant in a dark corner of the tavern as they harassed the poor man with questions about the theft of a certain star metal dagger. He also spotted the mark of the Shakai tattooed on their arms. After they dealt with the peasant he approached the one that appeared to be the leader and was paid 150 gp in exchange for some information about Rantcor and the Broken String. The necromancer was disappointed as he thought that the information provided was worth more but he shrugged and left the Troll with Bludbaer following.

Instead of retreating to his familiar old tomb this night though, Jíen decided to crash at the haunted villa instead for safety’s sake. He simply had the resident wraiths open the locked gates to him. During the night before going to sleep the necromancer had a conversation of sorts with the “boss” wraith. At least as much, a conversation a mindless undead creature can provide. Wraiths only retain a few negative emotions and the thoughts tied to what they used to be both of which replay like broken records in random combinations.

They do harbor some of the knowledge and secrets they knew in life though that can be brought out through careful and clever manipulation granted the thing isn’t trying to kill its interrogator. The withered-horror revealed to the necromancer a long undisturbed cubbyhole, unfortunately empty, in the bedroom wall. So Jíen used it to stash a small horde of 8,520 gp.

To Be Concluded…

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Necromancing Xuun Pt.10: Funny Little Death Games Pt.1

Late morning in the Whiskey Troll Tavern, Dravor the blackguard and Jíen the necromancer were eating a breakfast of stewed stringy gray meat, probably rat, tough coin bread, and whiskey Dagger and snake assassin guild markfortified ale. Trantox the assassin swooped in and sat at the table joining his compatriots. The Poisonwood assassin turned to the young necromancer.

Trantox (Played by Jenn): “Hey! Could you I.D. this for me? But don’t let anybody see.”

Jíen did as he was bid but as a favor. The weapon had a razor sharp serpentine starmetal blade with decorative runes winding up the cheek and a finely wrought gold guard and gold-wire wrapped grip with a strange purplish-black stone as pommel. The Deadlands necromancer visibly tensed as he touched the weapon and after summoning up the best of his arcane knowledge, almost spasmodically he slid the thing back to the assassin.

The assassin snatched it up and tucked it under his cloak quickly surveying the half empty tavern to make sure nobody saw the item. Jíen told Trantox that the weapon was intelligent and evil to boot (also a +2 weapon). The assassin was affected by a strange and disturbing (in Jíen’s opinion anyway) sort of glee. Trantox immediately slunk away softly giggling. The necromancer was suspicious that the weapon’s ego was already taking root in the assassin’s mind.

A little while after the assassin left the tavern for destination unknown the blackguard casually pointed out a corpse slumped against a pillar to the necromancer. Upon investigation the corpse appeared to be a murder victim with a gaping wound in the back, its feet bare, and the tethers to its missing coin purse cut. So, naturally the necromancer dragged it back to his tomb under the pretext of delivering it to the charnel house.

It took until evening to animate the corpse, programmed with a mission of vengeance against the one(s) responsible for its death whoever they may have been. Frankly, it was just something for the necromancer to occupy his time. A short while after the thing stumbled off into the streets Jíen made a beeline back to the tavern.

The Troll was packed it was again a familiar but reeking, as if it ever smelled anything but bad, sea of yellow light. After wading through the congested haze the necromancer quickly found a seat near the wall where hung the giant spiked club and near the always vacant and bone dry carven table. The place was noisy with agitated conversation and excited argument. The atmosphere as taught as knotted troll-gut, everyone was anticipating the games. There were Westlanders, Ivorans, and various others of all stripes most wearing cheaply dyed sashes painted with the heraldry of their favorite fighters marking them as games fanatics.

Then a fight broke out between the members of what appeared to be an adventuring group. Jíen spotted an unrolled parchment upon their table, the apparent source of ire. The young necromancer tried to keep an eye on it to see if anyone snatched it up. Eventually a few of the adventurers ended up dead and the others fled. Somewhere in this Jíen had lost track of the parchment and only realized too late that it was gone.

It wasn’t long after that before a duel between two pirate swordsmen broke out. Weary with boredom the necromancer took his leave of the place and retreated to his tomb. He spent the night preparing his fighter, making sure its makeshift stomach, a wineskin, was secure and filled with red wine.

Come morning the necromancer found himself breakfasting alone. Just as he finished eating Trantox stumbled to the table. He was covered in blood with a serious gut wound. A fat sack of swag tucked under his left arm.

Trantox (to Jíen): “You sense any magic?”

Jíen (Played by me): “I can only sense death and undeath.”

Trantox: *Blank Stare*

Jíen: “I have to inspect the item (using my Spellcraft skill). And it takes a little while.”

Trantox (disappointed in a sinister sort of way): “Oh.”

With his usual uncanny sense of perfect timing the bard, Rantcor wandered in and sat down with the necromancer and Poisonwood assassin. He passed Trantox a small vial of healing potion. He told the assassin to meet back up with him at the Broken String at midnight. To maintain appearances the bard signaled for a round of whiskey fortified ale for the table.

Jíen engaged the bard in some small talk about a few odds and ends eventually turning the subject towards the upcoming games.

Rantcor: “Putting my money on Zarcor, last year’s pit champ. 3 to 1 odds; can’t lose.”

The necromancer also found out that the underdog was one Blood-Axe with 12 to 1 odds. He was a half-faun from a place called Rockhollow or somewhere thereabouts. The bard took his leave soon after that. A few minutes later, a few of the city guard chased some “scumbag” thieves into the tavern from the street and thought that they had cornered the rogues who still were able to slip away.

Come midnight, Jíen found himself accompanying the assassin to the Broken String. The place was low key and quiet as usual with the same drunk passed out at the bar and the same faun bartender on duty. Exotic incense still perfumed the air that the necromancer found repulsive in its sweetness and for the first time he noticed that, the plastered walls were lavender in color. Quite the expensive pigment, he thought.

Already there, Rantcor waved them into a private booth. Trantox placed his sack on the table and slid it across the table over to the shady bard. He peeked into the bag shifting it a little here and there, inspecting its contents. After a few seconds, he produced a leather sack of his own and poured out a measure of gold coins. Nothing could make the necromancer’s eyes gleam more but a beautiful corpse or a pile of newly struck gold.

In total, the bard insisted that Trantox count them over a bottle of wine, the assassin had netted 3,600 gp. Trantox bagged the money and placed the purse inside of his shirt next to his heart. Rantcor then took it upon himself to give the hapless assassin a “head’s up”.

Rantcor (almost casually): “The Shakai are after you.”

The assassin shrugged it off meanwhile Jíen shot the assassin a wide-eyed WTF glare. The Shakai were the premier assassin’s guild of Xuun. Their emblem, a dagger with a red serpent coiled about the cold blade. The necromancer sat stunned while the bard took his leave. Trantox unconcerned went to haggle with the faunic bartender for some healing potions. After he was able to recover his senses, Jíen quietly slipped away back to his tomb.

To Be Continued…

 

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Necromancing Xuun Pt. 9: Poison Phantoms

The dark duo stood before the looming adobe villa under the light of the white moon. It was time to face the wraiths of the house and earn some gee-pees. They had met up at the Troll, as usual, earlier that evening but Dravor the blackguard had been late.

On the way back from their initial inspection of the villa Jíen the necromancer and the blackguard had encountered a minor but loud argument in the street. A couple of town guardsmen were harassing a small group of peasants. One of the guards was holding a wanted poster aloft which was bearing the likeness of Dravor.

Jíen immediately pivoted and began walking, calmly, the other way away from the blackguard and the small group of guards and townsfolk.  The necromancer burst into a panicked run when Dravor cast Banefire on the wanted poster. As the Deadlander skidded around a corner he heard shouts of: “Over there! That’s HIM!”

After things had calmed down Jíen met Trantox the assassin from Poisonwood at the Whiskey Troll Tavern and the assassin had passed him 2 vials of paralysis toxin to be used to complete the gas grenades he had already ordered from the Deadlands necromancer.

It was dusk before all three were finally around the damp boards of their customary table. The newly united trio was again destined to split as Trantox had some mysterious “business” to take care of. The blackguard and the necromancer had decided to go on the ghost hunt come nightfall.

Both exited the place leaving the warm yellow light of the raucous and overcrowded tavern behind and trading its thick pipe-smoke rich atmosphere for the fresh empty night air of the city streets. They had little trouble finding their way back to the accursed villa.

They entered the place; Zarkar had lent the necromancer a key, and immediately the duo noticed that they had forgotten about the corpse in the kitchen.

Cris (the GM): “HA-HA Ha! That’s right! You guys left it right there! It’s all rotten!”

Me (Jíen’s Player): “Damn. Well, I guess after I’m done here I’ll drop the body off at the charnel house.”

Ignoring the sweet stench of rotten human flesh, Jíen began to use his uncanny sense of the undead to “sniff out” their quarry. It was no surprise that he was able to sense something hovering about the kitchen where the maggoty corpse lay.

Suddenly, emerging from the shadows was the wraith of the dead cook bearing a butcher’s knife. Its flesh appeared pale blue and withered which stretched it tight across the phantom skull underneath.  Jíen tried to rebuke the creature but to no avail. But, unable to resist its aura of despair (he rolled a natural 1), the young necromancer collapsed to the ground rendered utterly helpless at the feet the monster.

Dravor’s faith in his demon lord preserved his sanity. It slashed at him fumbling the attack badly losing grip on its weapon. The wraith’s butcher-knife flung across the room landing point first into the butcher’s block in the corner.

The blackguard used his Hold Undead ability against it stopping it in its tracks. He smashed his zanbato into its strange demi-corporeal phantasmal flesh then fumbled the follow up blow flinging his weapon across the kitchen floor. As he ran to fetch his horse-cutter Jíen was finally able to shake off the effects of the monster’s unholy energies.

The blackguard readied his weapon after snatching it back up and waited for the necromancer to work his magic. Jíen seized control of the shriveled monster (a successful Rebuke Undead). Upon questioning as to where the one who turned it the creature simply pointed up.

They guessed that in the upstairs bedroom they would find the “head” wraith. So without hesitation the daring duo stomped up the steps and found the heady old wooden door ajar. Just inside they could it. Its skull was bald and its mummified face hideously withered with its skin pulling away from the wet black rims of its eyes and gums. It was dressed in fine blue-green garments which appeared as if new. In its claw-like right hand it clutched a mace.

The pall of despair that surrounded the creature failed to take hold of the young necromancer’s mind but the blackguard backed off and wept that it was a losing battle. They were going to lose and die and if they didn’t die here they would eventually die anyway.

The creature struck out at the necromancer thumping him with the mace. Jíen felt a little of his life-force seep away (he suffered a Constitution point drain) so the young necromancer tried to seize control of the creature but failed. The cook’s wraith put itself between the necromancer and the mace-wielding monster granting Jíen some cover. Dravor fighting through his deep misgivings and loss of drive tried to cast Hold Undead on the creature but failed.

The necromancer tried with all of his will again to try to control the monster but again failed. The blackguard readied his weapon should the necromancer fail again.

Me (Jíen’s Player): “Aw man, don’t kill it! I want this thing as one of my minions!”

Gil (Dravor’s Player): “Okay. It’s your funeral. But if I get a chance I’m going to destroy this thing!”

The necromancer’s last rebuke attempt was successful. Jíen dismissed both wraiths to the astral plane “until further notice”. The creatures faded back into the gloom from whence they came.

Later that night, the duo split up and went their separate ways, after collecting the 25 gold pieces Jíen headed back to his tomb. He was certain he had a new place to hide out besides the stuffy and somewhat crowded tomb even though Zarkar had taken his key back. As he laid back on the slab to sleep Jíen counted the days until the games. He figured only 2 or 3 more to go.

Next morning Jíen headed back to the Whiskey Troll and passed by a sight that caused him to rubber neck, stop, then cock his head to one side. There were wanted posters, a lot of them, and everywhere. All of them had the woodcut likeness of Dravor on them.

The bills listed his crimes. He had robbed the Silver Coil, roughed up the clerk at the Golden Feather Inn, a place he had also robbed, and killed a couple of city guards. The price on his head was 1,500 gp.

To Be Continued…

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Necromancing Xuun Pt.8: A Bag of Black Pearls

Dravor the blackguard and Jíen the necromancer found themselves before the blazing Black pearls from a ratteroversized marble hearth of the black hearted Korvo-Doom, master-slaver. They had presented the underworld boss with the severed heads of four Hyvalian Templars. The pair was now each 400 gold pieces richer.

The young one-armed necromancer offered Korvo an extra service, to make one of the heads speak the answers to two of his questions. The master-slaver offered 5 platinum pieces and the Deadlander worked his necromancy.

Jíen (played by yours truly): “You may now ask your questions. Um, sir.”

Korvo-Doom (rolling his eyes to the gory skull on his table): “Who’s… was, your leader?”

The dead thing lurched a bit as its jaw seemed to flap uncontrollably for a second before a gurgling wet voice oozed from behind blood-crusted teeth.

Severed Head (opening its eyes, the yellow orbs rolled slowly transfixing on Korvo-Doom): “Croale Strohm … High paladinnnn… of the light.”

Korvo-Doom: “How many troops on the boat, the Golden Wind?”

Severed Head: “Left port… with… Fifffty templarsss… ten… paladinssss.”

The thing’s miserable yellow eyes rolled back up into its head as its eyelids drooped and it was still. Almost reflexively in a fit of disgust Korvo snatched the head by its scabby hair and tossed it into the fire.

Jíen: “Um. Do you need the heads for anything else? I could take them for you.”

Korvo-Doom dismissively gestured with his hand as he sat and gulped a mouthful of dark wine. “Take ‘em all.” The necromancer even pulled the head from the fire before parting ways with Dravor and retreating to his temporary home, the tomb in the city cemetery.

Jíen went about de-fleshing and boiling the heads the roasted head providing a meal of warm brains to fuel his night work. He thought about perhaps a nice head-cheese after he fished the clean skulls out of his small black iron cauldron. However, he hadn’t any spices and was an abysmal cook. So he satisfied himself by creating four Chattering Skulls instead which would help to secure his tomb. He later just dumped the steaming Templar renderings over a nearby grave.

After animating the skulls, the necromancer charged an unused long-bone from his stash with a Wound spell. Amid the musky stench of boiled human flesh the necromancer laid on the slab of the sarcophagus to catch some shut-eye, sleeping under the unblinking watch of his undead gladiator Bludbaer.

Morning at the Whiskey Troll Tavern, Trantox the assassin slid 10 gold pieces over to Jíen. The assassin wanted the necromancer to make a poison-gas grenade. The trio, Dravor the blackguard was also at the table enjoying his morning whiskey, noticed for morning the place was quite crowded.

There were cultists with black tattoos of chains around their necks, wrists, and ankles, currently probably apathetic allies at most. There were also gladiators and their entourages from far and wide, presumably for the games and a few Hill-Lander fauns whom were talking to the Troll’s owner bearing with them several barrels of high quality Hill-Lander whiskey.

Trantox then passed Jíen a slightly used Alchemist’s Kit but the assassin also lacked the poison with which to actually arm the grenades. The two reached an agreement where the assassin would go concoct the poison and the necromancer would formulate and fill the glass containers for the grenades. Hopefully after about a day the assassin would have 3 poison-gas grenades.

Trantox left the tavern with a flourish of his cape and as the necromancer stood from the damp board readying to leave for his lair, a human ratter accosted him.

Ratter (in a hissing phlegmatic whisper): “Hey! You the one lookin’ fer black gems.”

The necromancer asked to see the gem and was shocked to find a weighty large black pearl in the palm of his corpse-pale hand. The ratter shook then opened his bag slightly revealing several other black pearls of the same apparent quality.

Ratter: “A hundred gold apiece.”

Jíen paid the price and stuffing the small bag of black pearls in his shirt over his heart left with Dravor following. In lieu of going to his tomb to bother creating the grenades for Trantox as he lacked the essential ingredient, poison, he instead decided to go check out the haunted house gig to try to rake in some more cash and maybe scope out a new target.

Sometime later, the duo met Zarkar the landlord in front of the tall wooden gates that stood as entrance into the adobe villa’s courtyard. After a brief and somewhat terse round of greetings, Zarkar knocked on the gates, somewhat reluctantly, but as no one answered he took the two hired Ghostbusters in. He was very displeased that the servants had failed to answer the gate or the summons he had sent at the top of his lungs.

Zarkar told Jíen in the brief stroll through the overgrown courtyard that a trio of adventurers leasing the place at the moment. They had paid him for a year in advance but had so far not really stayed in the place much. In fact, they had been gone for a few months now and he had no idea when they might come back, if ever.

The three men wandered into the heavy iron-studded front door which creaked open onto a dark, quiet, and apparently deserted front hall. Zarkar squeaked out a demand for the servants to answer but his weak words choked off suddenly as a foul stench met his nostrils.

Jíen (inhaling the foul air as a professional wine-taster sips a fine wine): “Yup, that’s a corpse.”

Indeed they found the shriveled semi-mummified corpse of the cook lying face down in the kitchen by the scullery.

Jíen (stooping as he inspected the corpse): “Maybe been here several days. Maybe a week, though not much actual rot. Hmmm.”

Zarkar (sweating and shaking): “But, but, I just talked to him YESTERDAY.”

Jíen: “Well then there’s definitely something here. I think I can deal with it.”

Zarkar (as he flies out the front door): “Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be outside with your fee!”

The young necromancer cast Commune with the Dead on the corpse and found that a resident wraith had killed the man, a wraith now himself along with an upstairs maid. The necromancer’s senses were piqued as finely attuned to the uncanniness of the undead as they were. Jíen could sense a presence over the corpse which then left the kitchen then floated almost aimlessly upstairs into a bedroom behind a closed door.

The blackguard made Jíen lead the way as he could “sniff it out”. The necromancer fearlessly opened the door to the bed chamber. He already knew wraiths are nocturnal and can really only manifest and therefore be dangerous at night. The duo left and met Zarkar outside. The necromancer telling him that he would be back after dark to exorcise the creatures from the property. Dravor asked after the occupants.

Zarkar: “Adventurers. Might be Swampers or something like that. They must be adventuring out somewhere; they’ve been gone for a few months now. But they did pay me in advance so I keep the place running.”

Jíen: “Can we know their names. Just in case they come home and um … I’m in the middle of … this.”

Zarkar: “Oh yeah. I believe the lessees are called Cantra and Phenox.”

To Be Continued…

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