Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Dawn at Olympus
The child of morning, rosy fingered Dawn, crept across the sky in flickering curtains of gold. She illuminated the mountain fortress of Olympus, which still echoed with the revelry of the night before.
" . . . and so I threw the Acropolis at him. The whole Acropolis. True story," mighty Zeus slammed down his goblet of ambrosia while the gods around the table laughed and slapped their knees. At his right hand side, gray-eyed Athena sat, her chin cradled in her hand, trying not to yawn.
"Father," Athena whispered while the laughter continued, "It wasn't the Acropolis. It was a whole mountain. Mt. Etna. Remember?"
Zeus didn't even bother to look at her. "Details are boring, girl. It's the delivery that matters."
"Whatever, Dad," she muttered. Being the Goddess of Wisdom meant that she was constantly surrounded by idiots. The grey owl on her shoulder nuzzled her neck, and hooted lightly into her ear. Athena's eyes instantly shot wide open. "Father, father, we have a problem!" Athena hissed.
Gray bearded Zeus just talked louder over her. The son of Cronos was recounting the time he seduced the Spartan queen Leda.
" . . . since I boinked her as a swan, she laid an egg nine months later. You should have seen her face!"
As Zeus recounted the tale, the banquet hall became quiet, too quiet, as they were not even laughing at his jokes. It was an uncomfortable silence, and Athena tugged at her father's robes, clearing her throat.
"What is it, girl?" he looked down at her and thundered.
She raised a finger and pointed toward the entryway. There stood Hera, wife of almighty Zeus, arms akimbo, tapping her soft sandal on the hallowed floor.
"Well!" the queen of the gods huffed, face red. "I thought I would find you here, cavorting with these . . ."
"Hera, my beloved wife, what brings you here at this late hour?" Zeus sighed.
"Late?" Hera puffed, "Late? Dawn is outside and you call this late? Oh no, husband, it is quite early!"
Zeus blinked, and then blinked again, unsure how to reply. "Um . . ."
Hera pulled up the hem of her robe and marched around the table, toward Zeus' throne. The gods around the table were silent. Dark Hades stared at the floor and shuffled his feet. Brave Ares picked up a knife and examined his reflection in the silver. Watery Poseidon, master of the sea, god of horses, and the 'Earth-shaker,' picked up a salt shaker and tipped a few grains into is ambrosia, then watched as tiny bubbles floated upward to the surface.
"How dare you. I have been scouring the surface of the Earth, looking for you!" Hera jabbed a finger in Zeus' face.
"Do not talk to the King of Olympus in such a manner!" Athena shot up out of her chair.
Hera glared at Athena. "Hold your tongue, daughter!"
"I am no daughter of yours," Athena scoffed, "I was born, fully formed, from my father's forehead."
"Oh, you were born fully formed alright, right out of his giant ass, you little shit," Hera hissed.
Before Athena could materialize the golden spear into her hands, Zeus put his palm on the crown of her head and gently, but forcefully, shoved her down into a sitting position. "Shh, little one." He then turned to his wife.
"If you would have checked the schedule, you would have known about the party. Right boys?" Zeus said.
"Of course," Hades replied.
"Been on the calendar at least a month," Ares nodded.
"The invitations arrived last week," Poseidon waved a brightly colored piece of paper with a weak smile.
Hera's stare bore down on the gods at the table and they all found more interesting things to look at, such as the ceiling, the wall, or an imaginary noise in the direction of the kitchen. She whipped her head back to Zeus, jabbing her finger at him again.
"You've been at it again, and this time I have a witness!"
"I . . . I . . . no," the son of Cronos stammered.
"There is no talking your way out of this one. You are guilty, guilty, guilty!" she jabbed him in the chest.
"I haven't done anything, have I, boys?" he looked back at the gods, who were still busy examining things that weren't there.
Athena stood up, "Hera, this is hardly any way to behave to your King and husband."
"Shut up!" Hera and Zeus said in unison. Zeus eyed Hera, and then turned to Athena. "Listen pumpkin, Mommy and Daddy are having a grown up discussion, so go find something else to do."
Athena huffed and collapsed back into her chair, crossing her arms in a powerful pout.
Hera glared at Zeus, rage in her eyes. "You've been cavorting around with a mortal woman!"
Zeus stared at her.
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
Zeus continued to stare.
"Well?"
"I'm thinking," Zeus, the aegis-bearer, yelled at this wife.
"You swore to me, you swore on your throne, that you would stop this obsession with mortal women. No more stalking and raping them. No more taking the form of an animal and surprising them in the shower!" she shook her fist at him.
Zeus took a deep breath. "Lies. All lies. I have been true to you. I have not touched a mortal woman. Who is this witness that tells such falsehoods?"
"He is there," Hera pointed to the entryway. There stood a form, bent over, hobbling with a cane, his face scarred. It was Hephaestus, god of fire, patron of blacksmiths.
"Oh, I see you've brought your parthenogenetic son with you," Zeus smirked.
"Tell us, my son, tell us what you saw," Hera said as the crippled god finally made it within hearing distance.
"Um, hi Athena," Hephaestus' voice cracked as he made a little wave towards the girl.
She rolled her her eyes. "Hello Hef."
"Get on with it!" Hera hissed.
"I'll report only what I saw, the whole truth," Hephaestus started. "Three nights ago, by a pond, I saw a flaxen haired damsel by the name of Podarge remove her clothing for an evening bath. Of course, I did not wish to be seen, so I hid in the bushes."
Zeus laughed. "Can you really imagine gimpy here running around the bushes like a ninja?"
"Hush," said Hera. "Let him finish!"
"So, the flaxen haired beauty entered the water, and lo and behold, what should I see but a huge glowing bull descend from the sky, his bovine member fully erect, and he ravished the poor mortal girl from behind," Hephaestus finished. Hera turned to Zeus, arms crossed, a smug look on her face.
"Oh come on," Zeus said, "Does every huge flying glowing bull with a tremendous cock that anyone sees on Earth have to be me?"
"Yes," the whole room said in unison.
“You are not helping!” Zeus hissed to the gods at the table.
“Mother warned me,” Hera sobbed. “She said I should marry that nice Hebrew god down the road. But noooo . . .”
“Ambrosia lips,” his voice softened, “That was me. I was there. But you’ve got it all wrong.”
“How?” she sniffed.
“I was there, yes, and I was buggering Podarge. But Podarge is a boy.”
“What?” Hera gawked at him.
“Podarge was a boy,” Zeus nodded.
“But Hephaestus said . . .”
“She had breast!” Hephaestus piped in.
“The poor boy was fat. It was a glandular problem. You can hardly fault him for a medical issue.”
“But . . . but . . .” Hephaestus stuttered.
“Oh come on. Who are you going to believe, me, or a gimpy god with only one working eye!”
Hera glared at Hephaestus.
“But . . .” Hephaestus said meekly.
Hera grabbed Hephaestus by the ear and began dragging the cripple towards the door. “You brought me out here for a boy? A boy? You won’t be able to even limp when I get through with you!”
The cacophony of name calling and curses gradually receded in the distance. Sighs of relief emanated from the table. Zeus wiped the sweat off his brow and turned to his daughter.
“Thank goodness that is done with, Athena.”
“Yes, Father,” she sighed.
“Now I want you to go to the walk-in closet in my private room.”
“Which walk-in closet?” Athena cocked her head.
“The one with the waterfall and the forest.”
“Oh.”
“There are three mortal women in there, a blonde, a brunette, and a red head.”
“Dad!” Athena bolted from her chair.
“Take the blonde. That's Podarge. Feed her to a Cyclops or toss her into the sky and make a constellation out of her. Whatever you do, keep it quiet, but get rid of her.”
Athena shook her head, sighing. “Father, if you don't control yourself, you may, one day, be replaced with a god who is a monogamist.”
“Nonsense, my girl, nonsense,” Zeus laughed, mussing her hair. “What kind of human would worship a pansy-ass god like that?”
Rosy fingered Dawn tiptoed across the palace and back down Mount Olympus, heading across the Ionian Sea to Italy, snickering silently to herself.
The End
[with apologies to Homer . . .]
- Ark
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Behold the Druid! Beware His Powers! Unspeakable Powers!
So continuing from this post, the Labyrinth Lord gang was in a forest, armed to the teeth, standing around a magical hole on a slab of granite on the ground - a hole that lead to another magical hole 60 feet up the side of a tower half a mile away, overlooking the central courtyard of the town of Barton Hill. It was near dusk, and they could see 30 orcs standing in formation outside of the local Church of the Lawgiver.
Yeah, if that hurt your head, you should probably go read the first post. You probably missed the whole part about the Aperture Science Portal Wands and big green dragon. :)
Anyway, one player began pitching Molotov cocktails at random roofs. Another tossed an oil flask at the orc who looked like the leader. Other players unleashed volleys of arrows into the startled orc platoon.
The orcs were freaking out in the town square. To the side of the square was the church. Now the church had had its front face ripped off, but was at such an angle that the player's couldn't see inside, yet there was a suspicion that the green dragon that they had seen landing in the town was inside.
One of the characters that The Boy is playing is Beagle the 2nd level Halfling Druid. Okay, yeah, I am being a little lax on class restrictions - but druid halflings make perfect sense to me. It probably stretches back to my affinity for Yondalla and the belief that all halflings would worship the Goddess of Nookie.
So Beagle drops an Entangle spell down in the courtyard, making sure that it covers the entrance of the church, and the the area of effect goes deep inside the battered holy structure.
Go grab your AEC and look up Entangle. Page 43. I'll wait.
Okay, I won't wait. Go compare it with the Entangle spell in the 1st Edition Player's Handbook. I'll wait.
Again, I tricked you. I won't wait. This LL first level druid spell has a range of 80' and 40' diameter of effect - a factor of ten greater than the original spell. I kind of think a typo might have occurred here - but I'm really not a fan of nerfing things mid-flight . . . so . . .
A 40 foot diameter. I can't believe it. That's enough to entangle . . . a dragon.
That was just where the frikkin dragon was sleeping too. He was supposed to get up, look around, see the PCs and go bleach their skins until they had no more skins. This was to be my revenge for all those horrible, horrible things the players have done to me over the years.
But still . . my pretty little lizard had a saving throw.
Crap.
Double dog crap.
FAILED.
As Charlie Brown says when Lucy pulls the football at the last moment . . . AAAUUUGHHH!
So the dragon wakes up and finds himself entangled. He's already nervous. His sister was killed by a bunch of yahoos only a week ago, not twelve miles away. He's agitated, cranky, and ready to kill something. His opponent must be close by, so he lets loose with his breath weapon.
Clearly, the dragon was operating off his remembrances of reading Gary Gygax's version of the spell, not Dan Proctor's.
And, yeah, the big cloud of chlorine gas fills up the courtyard and kills his orc bodyguards. Bodyguards. There to protect him. Him. A dragon.
It really just gets worse from here, but I'll leave that to another day.
;)
- Ark
Yeah, if that hurt your head, you should probably go read the first post. You probably missed the whole part about the Aperture Science Portal Wands and big green dragon. :)
Anyway, one player began pitching Molotov cocktails at random roofs. Another tossed an oil flask at the orc who looked like the leader. Other players unleashed volleys of arrows into the startled orc platoon.
The orcs were freaking out in the town square. To the side of the square was the church. Now the church had had its front face ripped off, but was at such an angle that the player's couldn't see inside, yet there was a suspicion that the green dragon that they had seen landing in the town was inside.
One of the characters that The Boy is playing is Beagle the 2nd level Halfling Druid. Okay, yeah, I am being a little lax on class restrictions - but druid halflings make perfect sense to me. It probably stretches back to my affinity for Yondalla and the belief that all halflings would worship the Goddess of Nookie.
So Beagle drops an Entangle spell down in the courtyard, making sure that it covers the entrance of the church, and the the area of effect goes deep inside the battered holy structure.
Go grab your AEC and look up Entangle. Page 43. I'll wait.
Okay, I won't wait. Go compare it with the Entangle spell in the 1st Edition Player's Handbook. I'll wait.
Again, I tricked you. I won't wait. This LL first level druid spell has a range of 80' and 40' diameter of effect - a factor of ten greater than the original spell. I kind of think a typo might have occurred here - but I'm really not a fan of nerfing things mid-flight . . . so . . .
A 40 foot diameter. I can't believe it. That's enough to entangle . . . a dragon.
That was just where the frikkin dragon was sleeping too. He was supposed to get up, look around, see the PCs and go bleach their skins until they had no more skins. This was to be my revenge for all those horrible, horrible things the players have done to me over the years.
But still . . my pretty little lizard had a saving throw.
Crap.
Double dog crap.
FAILED.
As Charlie Brown says when Lucy pulls the football at the last moment . . . AAAUUUGHHH!
So the dragon wakes up and finds himself entangled. He's already nervous. His sister was killed by a bunch of yahoos only a week ago, not twelve miles away. He's agitated, cranky, and ready to kill something. His opponent must be close by, so he lets loose with his breath weapon.
Clearly, the dragon was operating off his remembrances of reading Gary Gygax's version of the spell, not Dan Proctor's.
And, yeah, the big cloud of chlorine gas fills up the courtyard and kills his orc bodyguards. Bodyguards. There to protect him. Him. A dragon.
It really just gets worse from here, but I'll leave that to another day.
;)
- Ark
Monday, September 19, 2011
Moe's Scale of RPG Hardness
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| I've always been a fan of talc. |
I'm still on the fence about a lot of it, from a player's point of view, but it seems to me you could map a lot of it out on a continuum, like Moh's Mineral Hardness scale. People have probably already done it - and I just haven't seen it - or didn't pay attention at the time. On one side would be having everything in a game be determined by the results of dice rolls versus skills. The other is where everything is decided by GM fiat. Everywhere in the middle would fall actaul real games that existed in reality.
As a players, it's pretty neat to create a character that can yell there way out of combat. Playing one, ont he other hand, feels kind of weird when you do you best yelling every - then roll your die and hope the other creature is intimidated.
On the GM's side, the use of skill rolls is nice in that it gives an out - the GM doesn't have to bow to social pressure in making everything run away from a character who yells all the time. Those rules give some comfort in how to handle it, I guess.
But it all seems strange to me, when you step aside from the social interaction and toss a die.
Anyway, this little post is really quite half baked as I am still trying to wrap my head about how I feel about certain styles of play. Feel free to comment down below, as I'd love to see some discussion about it - from many different viewpoints.
- Ark
Saturday, September 17, 2011
The Road Less Exploded
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| Note the carefully placed snipers behind the bottle of soap bubbles and the Wii Zumba box! |
Enter Savage Worlds Showdown. Showdown is a skirmish version of Savage Worlds. The rules are basically the same as Savage Worlds, with a bit of streamlining to take it out of the realm of RPG and into the wargaming world. You build your units with points, agree upon a scenario with your opponent, and have at it. It's kind of like GURPS Warhammer, I guess, in that you can build just about whatever you want. It's easy to min/max and make unfun - if that's what you like - but if the players agree upon some guidelines and look at the process of creating a scenario as game design, rather than competition, it can be loads of fun.
We started out using LEGO Star Wars figures, and as the Boy and I were playing, I came to the realization that we really didn't have to play on a game board or map. We could use the entire frikkin living room as our battlefield.
Today, we graduated to our old WOTC Star Wars minis. This was mainly because The Boy didn't want to go through the effort of digging through his vats of LEGOs to find the battle droid pieces. The minis were fun. I must say - Savage Star Wars is much more fun than the old Star Wars skirmish game.
The Boy had a troops of clones - some regular clones, a troop commander (kind of a vanilla Rex) and some snipers. I had some Super and non-Super Battle Droids. Oh, and some snipers as well. The two sides were fighting over a set of strange LEGO buildings that The Boy had crafted. They were important to the war effort, I'm sure.
Like our old Soviet nemesis, I decided to go with sheer numbers. The Boy went with grenades. Frikkin grenades. That punk commander had a thermal detonator. It didn't take long for my poor troops to become scrap.
The boy took the Road Less Exploded, and that has made all the difference. ;)
Savage Worlds Showdown is FREE, btw. You can get it at the company website on the downloads page. Don't forget to snag the excel worksheet that has all the troop building formulas built in.
Enjoy!
- Ark
Friday, September 16, 2011
Artistic Clarification
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| Clarence the Frog Goblin |
I, on the other hand, draw like crap. Passable crap sometimes, but still - crap. Please take Clarence the Frog Goblin over there as an example. If you want to commission me to do some art - sorry - I only do things for free. But I'd be happy to draw Clarence for you. In fact - take Clarence. Use him. Print him on cardstock and make an army of him to battle your players in a 4e game. Go ahead. Feel free.
So, sorry for any confusion.
- Ark
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Dungeonspiration: Atlantis
When I was young, my mother would enter a trance-like state and describe her memories of past lives. One such session stuck with me vividly. She reported that in a previous life, she had been a man at Atlantis. At the time, Atlantis was a collection of thousands of little islands with connecting bridges. The most common transportation was by boat - powered by a network of crystal energy transmitters that ultimately got their power from one big crystal that pulled its amperage directly from the sun and stars.My mother had been a scientist who had helped develop the whopping big mega crystal. The crystal was a source of tremendous raw power. The Atlantean government decided to use that power against the Lemurians, who were a hostile force on the other side of the planet. Focusing the stellar forces with the crystal, my mother and her fellow scientists blew up Lemuria - sinking it into the depths of the Pacific ocean. Regretfully, the shock-waves went round the world and caused Atlantis to sink as well.
Needless to say, I had a voracious appetite for anything I could find out about Atlantis. The home bookshelves were filled with such content. Jane Robert's descriptions of Atlantis and multi-colored people riding dinosaurs seemed to back up my mother's recollections. And Charles Berlitz' memoir about diving in the Caribbean and coming under attack from a crystal powered pyramid shooting laser was great. Edgar Cayce was a bevy of information, what with all of his access to the ethereal Akashic Records. And von Däniken's Chariots of the Gods - well - can you say NAZCA?
Eventually I picked up Plato and read his descriptions of Atlantis. I did a lot of head scratching and sat down with pencil and paper to map out what he described. This - the definitive source on Atlantis - didn't seem to have anything to do with the Atlantis in my mother's books. Other than that some sort of land mass sunk, that is.
I kept my eye out for more books, though. One I found in high school pointed out the similarities of Plato's Atlantis with Troy. It was a great book, full of very interesting details. The only problem was that Troy never sank. Bummer. Other books pointed out Antarctica and Greenland as possible sources. Sri Lanka? Hmmm.
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| Santorini (Thera) |
The theory that really made sense was born out of Spyridon Marinatos' excavation of Akrotiri, a city on the Greek island of Thera. There had been a thriving civilization on the volcanic island. Then one day, some four thousand years ago, the volcano blew its top, turning most of the island to ash that sank to the bottom of the sea, and burying what was left. The event spawned tidal waves that severely crippled the surrounding islands, and perhaps hit mainland areas all over the Aegean and Mediterranean.
The Atlanteans appear to be the people archaeologists call the Minoans. I had already known about the Minoans. I think the first thing that struck me about them was BOOBS.
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| Tiny little shirts. |
The Minoans were a very mysterious lot. They were just beginning to write at the time, and really only using it to record crop productivity and the number of goats owned by a particular noble. I did a lot of study on the Minoans, and eventually came to the conclusion that no one know what the hell they are talking about if they say anything definitive about the culture. They could count sheep, they built buildings and ships, they could paint pretty pictures, and apparently they sacrificed people when they felt the need. They even, apparently, build a handful of buildings in Egypt and the Levant - or, at least someone was there using very similar architectural and artistic styles. But what the heck that means is up in the air - though I like the idea of trade embassies, myself.
So, my long search for Atlantis ended with - well - it ended with a great big question mark. To me, Atlantis is the Minoan civilization predating the more sweeping Mycenaean based culture that swept in from mainland Greece. But all there are are scraps and trash - leftovers of what appears to have been a bright and vibrant civilization. But it's really not about the destination. It's about the trip that brought me there, and everything I learned along the way.
I'd love to create an RPG - or at least setting - based on the Minoans - perhaps with a sprinkle of Greekish proto-mythology dropped in. What I have in my mind, however, would be a massive undertaking. And I guess that few would ever want to play it, as it would delve deeply into bronze age cultures and a mindset that is probably very hard for modern players to get into. D&D with Minoan trappings is not what I am after.
But still, all that I have learned is useful in my campaigns. If you see powerful, sea-faring cultures in one of my games - you can be assured that there is a little o Atlantis in all of them.
So go forth research what you love. Even if it's about the gestation period of the tsetse fly, I bet there is something there that can be plopped right into a campaign - making it all the more rich.
Oh, and for your reading pleasure, here is some of the research material on my shelves in my last great fact-finding tour of Atlantis. Enjoy!
Apollodorus. (BCE). The Library of Greek Mythology.
Apollonus of Rhodes. (BCE). Jason and the Golden Fleece.
Burr, Elizabeth. (1993). The Chiron Dictionary of Greek & Roman Mythology.
Cahill, Thomas. (2003). Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea.
Cameron, Pat. (2003). Blue Guide: Crete.
Campbell-Dunn, GJK. (2006). Who were the Minoans? An African Answer.
Castleden, Rodney. (1998). Atlantis Destroyed.
Castleden, Rodney. (1990). Minoans: Life in Bronze Age Crete.
Chadwick, John. (1987). Linear B and Related Scripts.
Chadwick, John. (1976). The Mycenaean World.
Cottrell, Leonard. (1953). The Bull of Minos.
Dickinson, Oliver. (1994). The Aegean Bronze Age.
Farnoux, Alexandre. (1993). Searching for the Legendary Palace of King Minos.
Garrison, Daniel H. (2000). Sexual Culture in Ancient Greece.
Graves, Robert (1955). The Greek Myths.
Hawkes, Jacquetta. (1972). Dawn of the Gods.
Herodotus. (BCE). The Histories.
Hesiod. (BCE). Theogony.
Hesiod. (BCE). Works and Days.
Higgins, Reynold. (1967). Minoan and Mycenaean Art.
Homer. (BCE). Illiad.
Homer. (BCE). Odyssey.
MacGillivray, J. A. (2001). Minotaur: Sir Arthur Evans and the Archaeology of the Minoan Myth.
Marinatos, Nanno. (2010) Minoan Kingship and the Solar Goddess: A Near Eastern Koine.
Martin, Thomas R. (1996). Ancient Greece.
Mathioulakis, D. & I. (1960). Crete.
Mohen, Jean-Pierre. (2000). The Bronze Age in Europe.
Pellegrino, Charles (1991). Unearthing Atlantis.
Plato. (BCE). Critias.
Plato. (BCE). Timaeus.
Saggs, H. W. F. (1989). Civilization Before Greece and Rome.
Snell, Daniel C. (1997). Life in the Ancient Near East.
Time-Life Books. (1987). The Age of the God-Kings.
Unknown. (BCE). Gilgamesh.
Wiedemann, Thomas. (1981). Greek & Roman Slavery.
Wilson, Ian. (2001). Past Lives: Unlocking the Secrets of Our Ancestors.
- Ark
Monday, September 12, 2011
And I Thought Holes Were For Throwing People Down
After some intense carousing, the party found themselves wandering the Wilds again. They were somewhat grumpy, owing vast sums to the City of Fultum, the Thieves' Guild, and the Assassin's Guild in long night of debauchery. Oh - and there were the accusations of horse molestation, too.
They don't take roads anymore, so they didn't catch the attention of yet another green dragon in the sky. This one was patrolling the skies over Barton Hill. Yes, that Barton Hill, the site of the infamous Cube of Force attack. They carefully hid while The Boy's halfling thief - Ferrit - shimmied up a tree.
With the aide of Ferrit's magical glasses, they saw the dragon light inside the walls of Barton Hill - half a mile away. They also saw that the human guards on the wall had been replaced with orc guards.
Tim was livid. The last time they attacked the city, Sai-Lin - Ron's cleric/Magic-user - had talked everyone into not burning the whole place down - just the city hall. Think of the children, was the cleric's plea. But this time it was unanimous - burn the mother to the ground.
Around four months ago - real time - the party found a set of wands that acted almost exactly like the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device in the Portal video game, the Wands of Doors. Suddenly, the entire party remembers that they have the wands (gotta love gamer's selective memories,) and begin to try to figure out how they might work outside of the dungeon in which they were found.
After some Q&A, Sai-Lin determines/remembers that the Wands only work on granite. They have Ferrit eyeball the walls of Barton Hill. Are they granite? I make a roll and give it a one in three chance. Crap. Yes, the walls of Barton Hill are granite.
After looking at the town, they only place they can place a portal hole so it gives a view inside of Barton Hill is on one of the two towers. They can do that, alright, but they need to have portal near to them - and they are not willing to go closer than half a mile near the town.
"Are there any pieces of granite around?" they ask. Some pebbles, yes. But they need a space six feet in radius to get a portal to appear. I let them know there is nothing like that around.
"What about those city walls?" Mervyn's cleric dwarf suddenly pipes up. "There had to be a quarry somewhere around to get that much stone. A granite quarry."
Greeeeat. The frikkin dwarf has turned into frikkin Columbo.
"Okay okay, you find the quarry. It's got all the slabs you'd ever need."
They drag a slab to half-mile mark from the town and place a portal hole on it, then have Ferrit place the other side of the hole on the granite tower. The party then peers down the hole in the slab and sees the city square below.
Thirty orc stand in formation in the square. One one side of the square, the Church of the Lawgiver sits, looking worse for wear. It appears as though the front face of the church has been ripped off. Rubble is on the ground around it, but they can't see directly into the hole in the church from the angle of thier portal.
"Is that hole about the size of a dragon?" one of the players asks.
Crap.
The characters readied flasks of oil, bows, slings, and torches - grinning with delight - all aiming downward.
(This, dear friends, is what we call a CLIFFHANGER.)
- Ark
They don't take roads anymore, so they didn't catch the attention of yet another green dragon in the sky. This one was patrolling the skies over Barton Hill. Yes, that Barton Hill, the site of the infamous Cube of Force attack. They carefully hid while The Boy's halfling thief - Ferrit - shimmied up a tree.
With the aide of Ferrit's magical glasses, they saw the dragon light inside the walls of Barton Hill - half a mile away. They also saw that the human guards on the wall had been replaced with orc guards.
Tim was livid. The last time they attacked the city, Sai-Lin - Ron's cleric/Magic-user - had talked everyone into not burning the whole place down - just the city hall. Think of the children, was the cleric's plea. But this time it was unanimous - burn the mother to the ground.
Around four months ago - real time - the party found a set of wands that acted almost exactly like the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device in the Portal video game, the Wands of Doors. Suddenly, the entire party remembers that they have the wands (gotta love gamer's selective memories,) and begin to try to figure out how they might work outside of the dungeon in which they were found.
After some Q&A, Sai-Lin determines/remembers that the Wands only work on granite. They have Ferrit eyeball the walls of Barton Hill. Are they granite? I make a roll and give it a one in three chance. Crap. Yes, the walls of Barton Hill are granite.
After looking at the town, they only place they can place a portal hole so it gives a view inside of Barton Hill is on one of the two towers. They can do that, alright, but they need to have portal near to them - and they are not willing to go closer than half a mile near the town.
"Are there any pieces of granite around?" they ask. Some pebbles, yes. But they need a space six feet in radius to get a portal to appear. I let them know there is nothing like that around.
"What about those city walls?" Mervyn's cleric dwarf suddenly pipes up. "There had to be a quarry somewhere around to get that much stone. A granite quarry."
Greeeeat. The frikkin dwarf has turned into frikkin Columbo.
"Okay okay, you find the quarry. It's got all the slabs you'd ever need."
They drag a slab to half-mile mark from the town and place a portal hole on it, then have Ferrit place the other side of the hole on the granite tower. The party then peers down the hole in the slab and sees the city square below.
Thirty orc stand in formation in the square. One one side of the square, the Church of the Lawgiver sits, looking worse for wear. It appears as though the front face of the church has been ripped off. Rubble is on the ground around it, but they can't see directly into the hole in the church from the angle of thier portal.
"Is that hole about the size of a dragon?" one of the players asks.
Crap.
The characters readied flasks of oil, bows, slings, and torches - grinning with delight - all aiming downward.
(This, dear friends, is what we call a CLIFFHANGER.)
- Ark
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