6 iron spikes

"Let slip the shrews of war!" - Osric unleashing what can only be described as a shrewball (12d6 of pain)

What has Osric unleashed?

The heroes were ushered into the chambers of the great sage. Ugh had paid handsomely for the opportunity to ask the wise one about the location of a potent magical artifact that would increase his strength exponentially. While somewhat forgetful the sage told them, in a rather long-winded fashion, that a hero called Gargantor had led a band of adventurers into the mountains seeking a long forgotten ruined temple to a toad devil. Gargantor had been born into a noble family. He had been absent so long that he and his companions were presumed dead. His family offered a reward of their son’s equipment for the return of his body. Fortuitously the sage had a map to the temple. Milgos pestered the sage for spells but got short shrift. Before leaving the city Osric picked up his trained attack shrews and Ugh dropped in to the local kennels and was relieved to find an war dog for sale. The hound was of the Molossus breed and paled in comparison to his loyal companion Fang II. However the dog was the best animal on offer and so he was purchased.

The Sage.

The map they had acquired suggested that there were three entrances to the temple in which Gargantor was said to have perished. Of these entrances they selected the one that looked like a rear entrance. They followed a sparse mountain trail till they arrived at a menhir shaped like a squatting toad. Osric and Ugh muscled it aside and descended a ruinous stone ladder. While the warriors set about creating harnesses to allow their animals to descend, Milgos scouted ahead.

Verbeeg are easily fooled.

Milgos, the dark elf trapped in a human’s body, crept ahead and soon discovered a family of ogre like creatures known as Verbeeg huddled around a campfire. He listened to their conversation learning that the injured Verbeeg male had been deposed as leader of his clan and exiled. Milgos decided to use his tried and true method of dealing with the mentally deficient humanoids with which he often dealt. “I am your god!” He used his magic to conjure a voice from the air. “You will be visited by some hero’s who will be led by a half orc with a dog. They will lead you to right the wrongs that have been committed against you. You will once again lead your clan. Help the orc and his friends and you help yourself.” It was then that Milgos’ attention was drawn to a rotting figure hanging from the ceiling. A withered husk, probably a human. He lost concentration, his spell ended, and he experienced the terrifying vision of being suspended above the ground while devil toads leapt, clawed and bit him. As quickly as the painful vision had arrived it left, leaving the elf shaken.

Ugh clanked into the room his mighty Molossus slavering at his side. After some discussion the Verbeeg agreed to assist and guide the group, leading them to a treacherous shaman and the new chief. The youngest Verbeeg led the way through the corridors till they arrived at a tree filled hall who's dome like roof was open to the sky.

Hill giants are no match for our heroes.

Milgos served as a scout and again he stumbled across some slow humanoids, this time hill giants. “This is your god!” He shouted feeling safe thanks to the invisibility granted by his magic ring. The giants seemed bewildered and rambled on about him not being a real god because he wasn’t trapped in a stone like the Verbeeg's deity. Milgos had the god promise them beer and the giants grudgingly agreed to hear what the humans, the god had asked them to trust, had to say. The ex Verbeeg clan chieftain stepped up and tried to convince the hill giants to aid them. The hill giants refused and a fight started. The towering brutes had foolishly overestimated their ability and were swiftly dispatched. The highlight of the skirmish was one of the large folk disappearing beneath a giant shrew swarm. Those blind critters are viscous.

Sadly earlier in exploring the dungeon the shrews had run riot, ignoring their masters instructions, and had eaten plenty of dubious fungus covered insects. As a result two looked very ill and had to be put down. Osric did the job himself as was only right and proper. Dungeoneering is a dangerous business particularly to pets as Ugh can attest. The Molossus would have to be his 5^th or 6^th attack dog.

Not far from the giants hall the band found the Verbeeg's shrine, complete with head constructed form intricately carved stones. Beyond the shrine were the shaman’s chambers in which they found the new chief a human with fancy gauntlets; gauntlets that Ugh desired. Milgos positioned himself for a back stab. A brief conversation revealed the human was Gargantor. He did not wish to return to his family and was perfectly happy ruling the Verbeeg and raiding the local trade routes. He offered them wine for refreshment while they discussed things in a civil fashion. When offering a toast it became apparent that no party trusted the other. When raising their cups in toast Osric and Ugh smashed them together spilling the contents. Osric looked a little disappointed, reached for the bottle and chugged the dark liquid down. He promptly fell unconscious. Gargantor ceased with the pleasantries. He drew his mace and began smashing things. That didn’t last long however as the priestess Jana spoiled the party with a hold person spell. The shaman was no match for the group and was soundly pummeled till she surrendered.

Enraged, the ex Verbeeg champion stormed into the chamber and raised his spear ready to impale Gargantor’s face and reclaim his clan. Betty crossed the Verbeeg’s path and in a swift motion eviscerated the burly fool. “No one touches the prisoner,” she declared. The remaining Verbeeg fled. Sensing that they had little time the group grabbed what they could, including the shaman and the spell held Gargantor, and beat a hasty retreat.

They found their line of retreat blocked by two more giants. The result was much the same with this pair no more of a challenge than the last couple. Ugh was particularly impressed by the devastating blows he was landing thanks to his shiny new gauntlets. With the hill giants dispatched the remaining Verbeeg clan kept a low profile allowing the hero’s to escape unscathed. They had explored perhaps a fifth of the dungeon but left with what they had come for. Overall it was a most successful adventure.

Five Dwarf Lords of Legend. There are three more I don't own... yet.

My miniature binges started when I was teaching. I had these fantastic school holidays and figured I would spend the time painting. I first picked up a brush when I was in year seven. I used oil based Testor paints and the results were suitably dubious. A stint at GW soon saw my love of miniatures beaten out of me via the dreaded 'painting tax'. Though to be fair GW taught me a lot about painting miniatures. It took a decade post GW for me to once again conisder dipping my toes into painting minis.

With plenty of spare time on my hands I started looking into the figure sets from the 70's. Painting the original Grenadier line for Dungeons and Dragons became a project and over an Christmas break I painted as many of the models as I could glean from e-bay.

I played a game of 8th edition Warhammer and during the next break put together an Empire army. In another holiday break I put together the Viking army I blogged briefly about.

Now I buy models that look like fun to paint that I might one day use in a game of D&D with tiles and monsters and stuff. An ongoing dungeon project. The Dwarfs below are Citadels 'Dwarf Lords of Legends'. The Perry's sculpted them thus they are detailed, full of character and fun to paint.

Primed grey, metals blacked, and a baddab black ink wash to draw out detail.

Foundry 3 colours flesh done, taking time to paint each model separately.

The Baron

King Gorrin

Lastro Lupintal

Uther

Throbin Deatheye

‘Follow the mooing my friends for that way lies our freedom.’ - Osric

A cow. They become important to the story later.

The dockside tavern teemed with people. The troubadour deftly navigated through the crowd till he reached a table upon which he leapt. He then removed his feathered cap that he waved in the air calling “Gather round good people. Come hear the latest exploits of the West Wood Warriors.” Folk looked up from their cups and a crowd quickly gathered eager to hear news.

“Will there be puppets?” asked an old crone. “I like puppets.”

“Alas fair maiden, there shall be no puppets, though my trained capuchin monkey shall accompany the tale with music.” At that the troubadour’s monkey produced a tiny mandolin that it strummed with a tuneless twang.

“The West Wood Warriors had returned Lord Winthrop’s son from the clutches of a saucy Verbeeg shamaness. And yet the slaying of the Verbeeg chieftain had not stopped their raids on our Northern trade routes. The Verbeeg continued to raid feeling safe in their mountain fortress. This would not stand. While the merchants begged the city to act it fell upon our brave heroes to once again venture forth and teach these hulking interlopers a lesson.”

The crowd that had gathered let out a resounding cheer. The exploits of the West Wood Warriors proved popular fodder for the bards of the city. Soon all eyes and ears in the tavern were turned towards the troubadour.

“Once more they ascended the mountain and entered through the entrance concealed by the blasphemous toad idol. Where once moving the malevolent stone toad had proved troublesome, now it was a simple task for Ugh.”

“Why’s that then?” asked the crone. “I heard Ugh aint got much in the way of muscles despite being a son of an orc.”

“It’s true my lady, that Ugh was once considered scrawny but no longer. For he possessed gauntlets of ogre strength, claimed as a reward for the rescue of Lord Winthrop’s son. And so he tossed aside the stone toad idol and descended into the Verbeeg lair.”

“Once again the sneak Milgos crept ahead like a stealthy alley cat. He approached a toad relief inscribed on which was mysterious script which the learned human deciphered with ease.”

“I heard Milgos was an elf. And a dark one at that.” again the crone called out.

“You are behind the times madam. Milgos perished in dragon fire but his soul found a new receptacle in the body of a human. As I was saying the scrawl about the toad relief instructed the reader worship the toad in some fashion, which Milgos did by flicking a coin of considerable worth at the portal. Much to his surprise the coin vanished within the portal never to be seen again, claimed by some dark god. Ugh, known for his impatience, approached the portal and began pushing and kicking it hoping to reveal a secret door. An ominous rumble saw his companions scramble away but not Ugh. The half orc continued to pound the wall till it amazingly vanished! In its place was a torrent of grey murky water that now rushed over Ugh sending him crashing into a shallow chasm. The torrent of water soon eased up and Ugh was fished out from the chasm only to find that he had no recollection of who he was or even why he was there.”

“He was there to fight Verbeeg!” called out the crone.

“Which the band pointed out to their amnesia struck companion. But it was for naught. The warrior was scared and confused and wanted to go home. Osric the half elf struck on the plan to fool the warrior into thinking that they would lead him out ‘back the way they had came.’ When in reality they would lead the fighter deeper into the dungeon.”

“They skirted the terrible room full of beetles both normal and fungal infected. These beetles waged an eternal battle on the walls, floor and ceiling of the chamber. Osric’s surviving war shrews took no interest in the feast before them knowing the insects to be poisonous.”

Shrooms are both sentient and potentially tasty.

“Later, while Ugh heaved aside a rusted portcullis, the group was assailed by mushroom men. Milgos the wise webbed the fleshy shroom folk in place through eldritch sorceries and the band set about peppering them with arrows. One by one the shroom men fell limp in the web till their leader was all that remained. Here the tale becomes confused as Ugh and Osric both swear that the final shroom offered an arrogant parley, which he relayed through telepathy. As Milgos’ henchwoman Betty had not heard the psychic treaty she continued to pepper the web creature with arrows till Ugh and Osric heard its anguished psionic death scream. Loot was acquired and Ugh had to be dissuaded from consuming the sentient shroom men.”

“While there were many unexplored tunnels the group returned to the area in which they felt the Verbeeg laired. Verbeeg guards soon met them. Once again Milgos tried to convince them of the presence of an invisible deity. These Verbeeg were not to be shaken from their rock worshipping faith and combat soon eventuated. In the narrow confines of the tunnels the Verbeeg countered the bands numbers and inflicted grievous wounds on Betty before falling. The bands priestess, Jana soon had the indomitable warrior woman patched up and ready for more.”

Not long after they chanced upon a lowing sound. Osric recognized it as cattle for he is a ranger and rangers now the call of all animals, cows just so happened to be a really easy to recognise. He relayed this critical information to the party ‘Follow the mooing my friends for that way lies our freedom.’ Ignoring other avenues of exploration the party pressed on towards the sound of cows and was rewarded for in a large hall they found the herd. A grand fireplace dominated the hall. It was shaped like a toad with its maw like hearth merrily blazing away. The toad’s eyes glistened in the firelight and appeared to be valuable gems.

Then there was a hue and cry ‘Thieves! They are stealing our cows!’ Which was rich coming from the Verbeeg seeing as they mercilessly raided the trade routes. Four fur-clad brutes came lumbering from an adjoining chamber and were quickly crushed by the heroes. Ugh then went on to have a rich conversation with the Verbeeg’s hounds but was unable to convince them to accompany him back down the mountain. Milgos saw through the illusion of the toad fireplaces glistening gem eyes. He then determined that the illusion was the trigger to an elaborate crushing trap.”

“Imagine, dear audience, that you were suddenly sealed in a room. Now initially there is plenty of room but you share the space with a herd of nervous cattle. Now imagine that the walls are slowly grinding their way inwards. The cattle become panicked and stampede in the limited space available. You have to begin cutting them down to avoid being trampled. While you do this space becomes more and more limited. Cramped, you struggle in vain to find a way out. But your avarice, your seizing the illusionary gem, has sealed your fate. The walls crash together crushing your bones to jelly, your flesh to paste. We are indeed fortunate dear listeners that our heroes did not trigger this trap.”

“Having inflicted another sound thrashing upon their Verbeeg foes the band set forth down the mountain, for indeed the grand cow hall had served as an entrance to the Verbeeg lair. Our heroes returned once more to our fair city.” And with the tale told the crowd returned to their cups though many a coin found its way into the troubadours feathered cap that the capuchin monkey proffered to the crowd while his master busied himself with a well-deserved ale.

'I'd like some glowing balls.' - Milgos the dungeon scout.

A place by the hearth in Lord Winthrop’s grand hall had been set-aside for the bard. The perfect spot from which to regale the assembled nobility with stories of high adventure.

The troubadour cleared his throat loudly to garner the attention of those nearby. As he rose an expectant hush filled the chamber.

“Lords and Ladies. I bring to you the tale that has recently reached its nasty conclusion. I call it ‘Enlandrin’s Folly’.” Various nobles nodded with familiarity at the name Enlandrin. He had been a wizard of great power who had left the cities arcane guild in a storm of controversy. Rumors of necromantic experiments and devil worship had been vigorously denied by the mages guilds, and yet many felt they held the ring of truth.

“Our tale also involves the West Wood Warriors.”

A noble woman at a nearby table frowned at the name and called out “That name is terrible, surely they do not call themselves that. They sound like unkempt tree hugging vagabonds. They sound like they are in league with the elves.”

The bard looked apologetic. “Alas madam I fear that is the groups moniker. Thus named by a drunken sell sword, for the band had never gone to the trouble of naming themselves. Rest assured what they lack in creative titles they make up for in heroic deeds.”

“Our heroes found themselves returning to the domain of the mage Enlandrin that adjoined the tunnels and warrens of the sprawling local dungeon known as ‘The Darkness Beneath’. Milgos, the group’s scout, had found it hard adjusting to life as a human. His night vision was poor and so he took to carrying around a number of glowing balls to light his way. Milgos would prefer a blade in each hand should the opportunity to stab something arise and so his need to carry shiny balls vexed him. That is until he came up with a cunning plan. He would place a ball on his head. First he would fashion a conical hat and he would place his ball on the pointy end. He could then see where he was creeping and have both hands free for frenzied stabbing.”

"Milgos crept down the dank and dark corridors, his glowing ball shedding the bare minimum of light necessary for him to see and yet not alert the local denizens. Or so Milgos hoped. A call echoed down the tunnels alerting the group to danger. It was the scream of terror followed by the distinct raucous tones of desperate combat. All pretense of stealth abandoned; Milgos sped into a chamber. He was in time to see a rogue be smothered by an ochre jelly. The abominations touch dissolved the poor fools flesh. The single remaining member of the luckless band of adventurers stood in the centre of the room cursing in arcane tongues. Soon missiles of magic filled the air and streaked forth with unerring accuracy peppering the ooze. Milgos recalled from his studies in the mages academy, that such oozes could simply be hacked apart and so he leapt at the creature blade swinging. He was soon joined by Ugh and the pair carved through the jelly like our good Lord Winthrop carves through a desert.”

There was nervous laughter as Lord Winthrop’s guest turned to their host to see how he would take the slight. The noble gave the bard a stern look, a spoon full of custard half way to his mouth “Go on bard but try and leave out future japes at my expense.” Those gathered in the hall breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Lord Winthrop - shamelessly 'borrowed' from a popular novel.

“Beg pardon my Lord.” The bard said before resuming his tale. “And so the mage was saved. He and Milgos traded academic titles each sizing the other up. Blodgett, for that was the mages name, had the audacity to try and hire Milgos and company promising them a 15% share of all treasure found. He was politely refused and was largely fobbed off by the accomplished heroes for his talk did not seem to match his observed ability. Oddly, while the mage was occupied retrieving the items and personal effects of his deceased companions, Milgos felt compelled to enchant the young mages mind. His motive remains unclear though he would later swear that it was for Blodgett’s own safety for a mage so full of himself and yet so obviously lacking in ability, well it would only be a matter of time. The exact reason for Milgos’ enchantment hardly matters, as later in this tale it would prove a sound move and Blodgett, an otherwise insignificant player in the world of sorcerers, would become something of a hero.

The evil high priest at least put in a token effort.

The band set out once more with Blodgett trailing behind. They skirted a chamber, in which laired a specter of terrifying countenance. Pressing on they sought out tunnels that led south for Milgos had an inkling that Enlandrin’s sanctum lay in that direction. Soon they arrived at a door on the other side of which they heard mumbled conversation and witnessed the flickering of lantern light. Ugh splintered the door with one might kick. Beyond sat a trio of priests deep in their cups while behind them standing at attention were a handful of desiccated zombies. Battle was joined and it was swift and conclusive. The acolytes were soon slumbering thanks to a timely spell; the zombies fled clawing at the door with rotted hands as they were turned by the holy power of the bands cleric Jana. The nefarious high priest at least managed to look threatening. He drew himself up to his full height, raised his staff and shouted ‘SERPENTUS MAXIMUS!’ The staff’s head became that of a poisonous viper. An invisible Milgos then stabbed him in the spine. So ended the battle.

Of the two slumbering acolytes one was put to the sword. Ugh left his hound to worry the corpse and lap up the still warm blood. It seemed his callous streak had not left with the loss of his cursed helmet. The remaining acolyte was woken and put to question. He begged forgiveness and offered up his master’s location in return for his life. ‘To the south.’ The acolyte groveled ‘Enlandrin’s sanctum is to the south. Can I go now? I promise I shall no longer worship demons. I shall be good. You have my word.’ While disgusted at the sniveling on display the heroes were essentially good and saw no reason to murder the acolyte. He was spared and fled. The band took stock of their resources and decided to continue. They knew their prey was close. Enlandrin would not see out this day. But that my friends is a tale for another time. For the hour grows late and my Capuchin monkey is weary from accompanying me with his lute all this time.

'I could use something flammable about now.' - Gerard one of Enlandrin's webbed warriors

Tshoghha the demon toad. He's mentioned briefly in the story a little latter.

Blodgett gazed moodily into his ale. His decision to let his friend Milgos hold his share of the treasure had been out of character and now had come back to haunt him. He needed plenty of gold to pay for his wizard tuition and so he had hired the best local talent for an immediate expedition into the underworld. His hirelings milled about the bar. First and foremost amongst them was Gerard the grizzled warrior whom Blodgett had ‘liberated’ from the clutches of the mighty sorcerer Enlandrin. Gerard had been Enlandrin’s right hand till Blodgett convinced him to change his tune thanks to a little charm spell. Enlandrin wouldn’t come seeking revenge as the crazed wizard was now deceased.

‘Tell us Elandrin’s Folly again boss. You know the story about how you helped kill the infamous sorcerer.’ Asked Burne, one of the new hires. ‘I once adventured with the West Wood Warriors. That was till they decided they didn’t need me anymore. Threw me on the scrap heap. After all I did for them carrying the torch. A rat even bit me. And what did I get for my troubles eh?’

Blodgett the mage. The kerchief makes him medieval.

Blodgett’s thoughts were interrupted. ‘Yes Burne, I will tell you the tale, if you promise to cease your infernal prattling. I don’t pay you to talk.’ The mage gave a weary sigh before launching into his tale. ‘We had found some priests, foul worshippers of the toad demon Tshoghhha.’ Blodgett’s pronunciation of the word sounded like he was hacking up a great gobbet of phlegm. ‘Whilst putting the miscreants to the sword one of them had a change of heart. The poor blighter begged forgiveness before betraying his master Enlandrin by informing us the wizard’s whereabouts. I suspected a trap but advised that we press on. I had been hording my best spells for the coming conflict.’

‘My good friend Milgos scouted ahead. It wasn’t long before we came upon a chamber full of skeletal undead along with the crazed worshippers of Tshoghhha. Milgos opened and closed a few doors whilst invisible giving away his presence to the cultists. Knowing the game was up our half-orc meat shield stormed into the room.’

Gerard interrupted ‘I don’t like the way you called Ugh a meat shield. Just because he is a fighter doesn’t mean he should be objectified.’

Milgos scoured. ‘Must I be interrupted? I called Ugh a meat shield because he is a half orc and half orcs are stupid slabs of destructive muscle. You hire them for their capacity to take a blow and get in the way of your enemies; hence I call the dullard a meat shield. You met the man; he wasn’t too bright was he? I meant no slight against fighting men in general. If I insulted you then I apologise.’

‘Apology accepted. Do go on with your tale.’ Gerard took a swig of his ale and continued to listen intently. He knew the tale for he had been there, but he still liked hearing it told.

‘The warriors stormed into the room and were met with a hail of arrows fired by skeletal archers and the berserk dagger strikes of chanting cultists. Fang III had its throat opened by a frenzied dagger strike. Ugh was unmoved by his canine companions death. I was later to learn that the brute took pride in the number of canines he could get killed in various dungeons, hence him keeping score via the title Fang I through to III. He and Milgos’ henchwoman Betty waded into the foe chopping the cultists down with methodical precision. I supervised the conflict, saving my magical resources for the showdown that was sure to come. The undead in the room scattered as Jana the hobbit strode in brandishing her holy symbol before her. Betty pressed the cultists into an adjoining corridor. She looked a sight drenched in the blood of a dozen foes. Just as the battle looked won a blast of energy blew apart several doors, stormed down the corridor, fried a cultist and badly scorched Betty. Enlandrin had decided to make his presence felt.’

‘Ooh this is my favourite part. This is the bit where you arrive.’ Said Burke to the warrior Gerard.

‘That’s it I give up!’ Blodgett cried in exasperation. ‘I cannot tell the story if I am to be interrupted at every turn!’

‘Sorry boss. Do go on.’

‘Alright, but only because the tale is nearing the end. Following the bolt of lightning came a trio of warriors, including Gerard who at the time was … um … under a mind-altering enchantment cast by Enlandrin. It was then that I unleashed my pent up power webbing the corridor and preventing Enlandrin’s sell swords from harming us. I must say Gerard did look terribly imposing as he began hewing into the web with his great sword. Our canny foe Enlandrin countered my magic with magic of his own. A great storm of ice was summoned into the chamber, which I had the foresight to avoid by remaining outside the room. Enlandrin had cast indiscriminately however and had injured both friend and foe. Soon it was only Gerard and the as yet hidden Enlandrin opposing us. Seeing the force arrayed against him Gerard sensibly swapped sides. The hobbit, Jana, prayed to her god for intervention and got it in the form of a silence spell. Enlandrin was not to be easily defeated as the wizard, protected by shimmering images, moved outside of the zone of silence. He strode amongst us and unleashed a volley of magic missiles into the chest of the upstart priestess. Jana remained bloodied but standing. Pushing past the pain and through gritted teeth the hobbit once again called upon her god who this time froze Enlandrin in his tracks.'

Enlandrin prior to his untimely demise.

'At this, the final stage, Milgos, who had been hiding all this time, chose to reveal himself. The rogue appeared in front of the frozen mage and plunged his daggers into the various figments and images that were Enlandrin’s illusionary protection. Each blow saw another figment disappear till there were no more layers. Bereft of protection the mage took a dagger to the face. Thus ended the life of Enlandrin. All there was left to do was loot the place. My good friend Milgos still has my share. I must remember to ask for it one of these days.’

THE MAW - a sailor’s nightmare

No Enc. (1)

Size: Huge

Alignment: Chaotic

Movement: 60', 120’ swim

Armorclass:-2

Hit Dice: 9

Attacks: 1 (Bite/Spell)

Damage: 4d6 (+ special)

Magic Resistance: 55%

XP: 2,000 + 12/hp

THE MAW is the bane of sailors and terror of coastal communities. A series of luminous antenna draw the eye to the creature’s monstrous form. Accompanying the creature is a cacophony of confusing sights and sounds. Its huge snaking body is formed from the fevered dreams of the mad. Hundreds of mouths can be seen gasping for air and press through the creature’s ethereal skin. These are the mouths of doomed sailors who perished in the belly of the beast. Their sussurous gasps only adds to the confusion. THE MAW’s powerful lamprey mouth can breach the hulls of vessels with ease. Lashed to the beast is a barnacle-encrusted bell from a long sunken vessel. It’s discordant tolling, combined with the maddening spectacle, can unhinge even the soundest mind.

Due to its otherworldly composition THE MAW is immune to normal weapons. THE MAW fears and is vulnerable to flame. Those seeing the creature must make a save versus spells or fall under the effect of a confusion spell - see the custom confusion chart below. Those who fall prey to the confusion effect inevitably descend into cannibalistic madness.

Custom Confusion Table
d% Action
01-10 Self hate - Attack self. Preferably with a bladed weapon in a self mutilating frenzy
11-20 Must resist - Regains control of self if only for a moment - acts normally
21-50 Life is futile - Rants incoherently about the insignificance of man
51-70 I’m so hungry - feast on nearest corpse or grapple and bite closest creature
71-00 Kill them all! - Attacks nearest creature with murderous intent

________________________________________________________________
This was the end boss for my one page dungeon entry 'Rot Tower'. The beast was sketched out in only the roughest detail in the entry itself. I was thinking along the line of Cthulhu and some weird fantasy - Lamentations of the Flame Princess lines when I wrote 'Rot Tower'. I'll probably post the entry on the blog at some point.

Monty likes researching at the library

Yes, me again, you old pal Monty. Things have taken a turn from the horrific, with the grisly murder of my friend, to the academic with our tirelessly slogging through high society gossip pieces. We fled the scene of Elijah Jackson's murder and stopped in for a quick drink at the local speak easy. A shot of bourbon soon calmed my nerves. I don't understand these Americans and ther temperence movements. A man needs a stiff drink I say, particularly after witnessing a ritualistic murder. From a backrom in the speak easy me and my archaeologist friend Dr Raymond Howser MD did our best to form a plan from the myriad of clues before us. Should we check hospitals for gunshot victims? If you recall in my last correspondence I had shot a murdering cultist in the back as he fled the scene.

Or should we look into the members of the expedition? We could do some research based on the items we had found on the deceased - matchbooks and lecture tickets. Surely there was a greater mystery afoot that would take some time and careful study to unravel.

After vigorous debate we decided to visit the 'News of the World', a dreary tabloid full of celebrity scandal and gossip. Sadly we were turned away on account of the late hour. We had decided to begin our investigation after two or three bourbons and found it was close to eleven at night. The night watch man was not helpful insisting that the journalists and archivists had all gone to bed. If you ask me they have no right to the title of journalist. A real journalist would be out there breaking news at all hours. The news and likewise the presses never stop. I told the night watchman as much to which he smugly replied that the presses were working but the journalists had gone to bed. I should have struck him with my cane for his impertinent tone alone.

Crestfallen, we left the scene, but then the most fortunate thing occurred. Despite the late hour and the mist rolling in off the bay, I noted a discarded stack of news papers in a nearby bin. The title ,'Carlisle plans idiotic expedition', got my attention for it was the Carlisle expedition that my good friend Elijah Jackson had got himself entangled in prior to his untimely death. The paper was most enlightening and so my friend and I decided to dedicate the folowing day to research at the papers archive. This location was known lovingly as 'The Pit'. We discovered a great deal about the members of the ill fated expedition and the doom that befell the group as they explored the dark continent. All this thanks to the discarded newspaper that as it tuned out was years out of date. Destiny I should think though perhaps a further sign that something supernatural was afoot. I have collated my notes made at the time. I trust they will be enlightening.

Meticulously kept investigative notes.

‘My name is Milgos and I am here to free you.’ – Milgos emancipates the slaves

A mountain troll

‘Here she is my lord.’ Lord Winthrop’s manservant ushered in wild-eyed woman in servant’s garb ‘Just hired her this morning as a kitchen hand. She says someone called Milgos liberated her from one of the Mountain Troll halls. I recalled the name Milgos from the minstrel’s tales your fond of and thought you might want to talk with her.’

‘Your intuition serves you well.’ Lord Winthrop praised his servant before turning his attention to his new kitchen hand. ‘Your name girl?’

'The trolls called me Brigitte me lord.’

‘Very well Brigitte, tell me how you came to meet Milgos and his group.’

“Isn’t much to tell me lord. I was serving in the halls of the Mountain Trolls. Carrying haunches of mutton and steins of ale from the kitchens. It was one of the Jarl’s many feasts where he would ramble on about faded glory and then drink to excess. Dradeel, a slave like me only a gnome, approached and whispered ‘Head to the corner. There is a wizard about and he means to free us with magic.’ Now I think to myself ‘the kindly wizard must be about to teleport us to safety. But no.’ The wizard, who I learned was Milgos, starts chanting and waving his arms from his hiding position under one of the giant trestle tables they bring out for their feasts. His chanting and waving gave his position away but it didn’t matter as a great ball of fire engulfed the Mountain Troll Jarl and his hearth guard. All hell broke loose as troll warriors and maids raced towards their attacker. We servants ducked under benches trying to keep out of harms way. The Jarl’s wife was howling in anguish as the fireball had roasted her child alive. The Mountain Trolls filled their hearts with hate and vengeance as they poured from the hall seeking wizard blood.’

‘Fighting all sense of self-preservation I edged towards the halls exit so I could witness the unfolding fight. I hoped my cruel masters the Mountain Trolls, would be defeated and Milgos would rescue us. While I couldn’t see much I did see three armoured figures, whom I would later learn were Ugh the toad-slayer, Jana wizard-bane and Betty the corpse-guardian. They were fleeing before the horde of trolls. I heard a high-pitched voice exhorting them to run faster but could not see who uttered the warning. I would later learn it was the invisible Milgos.’

‘I heard he spends more time invisible than visible and that he slowly ebbs and fades from this world.’ Lord Winthrop mused.

Onkel the three headed troll

‘Couldn’t say me lord. In fact I saw little of what he got up to during the battle, probably all the more so given that he shrouds himself in invisibility wherever he goes. Though I did hear some of what unfolded from those working in the kitchen. They say he severed the spine of Onkel the three headed troll. Stabbed him in the back when he wasn’t looking. He’s good at the sudden stabbing as he gutted a troll maid towards the end of the struggle. He strikes from the invisible then fades into the shadows. He’s like an assassin only without the evil.’

‘While the warriors where putting up a stout defence in the hall, driving back the troll horde, Milgos was leading a band of troll chefs a merry chase in the kitchens. The trolls hunting the evasive wizard threatened the kitchen staff hoping they would give up the heroes position. Even when they squeezed a gnome so hard that his eyes popped from his skull the kitchen staff would not betray their potential savior. Milgos eventually distracted his furious troll hunters with a sound cantrip and in doing so saved the lives of many kitchen staff.’

‘Perhaps he is a hero after all?’ Interrupted Lord Winthrop. ‘I had heard mixed accounts up to this juncture. I had been erring on the side of Milgos being a rogue of ill intent who wears the trappings of a hero only to lend legitimacy to his larcenous and murderous inclinations. This unkind reading of his character I owe in the main to his dark elf heritage.’

‘Dark elf me lord? He aint no dark elf. I know dark elves on account of how some were guests at the Jarl’s feast. They ran at the first sign of trouble. They didn’t look like Milgos at all. He’s a hero my lord, no doubt about it. He fought the Troll chefs while his friends faced off against the furious horde.’

Send more trolls!

‘I could hear the Jarl and his wife cursing and wailing behind me over the death of their son. While they where distracted a troll crone lead the assault. She charmed the Toad-slayer into leaving the safety of the corridor that the heroes held. The warrior staggered into the midst of the mountain trolls his mind ensorcelled till the brutes brought their vengeful axes down upon him. Somehow he survived the assault and even managed to fight his way back to the defensive position of his companions.’

‘There was much blood shed in that corridor. Troll’s retreated or where slain. The troll’s remorseless assault wore down the heroes. Ugh in particular took some terrible blows. Yet Jana’s prayers to the gods soothed his wounds and kept him standing. The battle raged for almost half an hour before the grief stricken Jarl pushed through the ranks in order to bring the conflict to a head. He faced off against the toad-slayer. The Jarl’s mighty two-headed battle-axe, easily 6 feet in length, clashed against the toad-slayers dragon slaying sword. There could be only one and as it turned out that one was Ugh Toad-slayer. With the Jarl’s head separated from his body the tide had turned and the remaining trolls, despite comfortably outnumbering the heroes, had had enough. They turned tail and fled leaving the heroes surrounded by corpses. They immediately piled up the bodies, dowsed them in oil and set them alight.’

‘And that’s all there is to tell. Me and the other servants fled to the surface. From there we made it to the city.’

‘Thank you Brigitte for a most enlightening tale.’ Lord Winthrop gestured for his manservant speaking quietly in his ear at his approach ‘Bring me the sage.’

'We couldn't rescue one of you. The trolls squeezed him till his eyes popped.' - Milgos consoles the slaves

The Mountain Troll King's golden throne

Betty hefted her mug of mead and knocked it back in record time much to the admiration of the tavern patrons. She was never short of an audience, ever since her ventures with Milgos and Ugh had gained the attention of the common folk. She no longer had to buy her own drinks, though on this occasion she supplied the beverages herself. The bands latest expedition had left her in the possession of a vast supply of mead courtesy of the Mountain Trolls. She was becoming accustomed to the taste. The patrons gathered around expecting a story of heroics but she wasn’t in the mood. She’d been brooding for months now, ever since the fallout with Beatrice, her twin sister and temporary adventuring companion. Dirk the apprentice, who at this stage of the night was already roaring drunk called out “Give us a story Betty. Tell us about how you killed the King of the Mountain Trolls and plundered his horde!”

She’d give them a story.

“All I ever hear about is how we are these big heroes. We have this reputation now for saving folk. I can’t walk down the street without someone begging me to ‘rescue my daughter from the Chimera’s Grotto’ or‘save my child from the Keep on the Borderlands.’ Most people don’t like the answer I give, but I give it to them straight. I tell them we aren’t heroes and we aren’t a charity. Unless you’re paying us we aren’t going to save your cousin, brother or whoever. The truth is the last lot of folk we rescued, all those cooks, washerwomen and filthy gnomes, we rescued by accident. In the end we used them as labor, getting them to carry the heaviest loot for us so we could take it easy on the way back to the city. Ugh and Milgos both sat in the Mountain Troll’s throne while the freed slaves carried them down the mountain. One last bout of slavery before we left them in the city square with nothing but the clothes on their backs. We took everything we could from those Mountain trolls, their jewelry, the Jarl’s throne, rugs from their floors even the crib from the nursery.”

“You could at least make it sound heroic you know. I much prefer the bard’s tales to your bitter ranting.” Complained Kirk the disappointed apprentice just before an empty mead mug smashed his ugly face. Betty continued her tale as the unconscious fool fell to the ground. “He’s right you know. The story could use a bit more heroism and a little less reality.” She said with a wicked gleam in her eye “Here is the pretty version you can tell your kids before you tuck them in at night.”

“We had earlier slain the Jarl and put the trolls to flight. We knew it was only going to be temporary as the trolls would regroup under the leadership of either the Jarl’s ruthless wife or the foul troll crone who had befuddled Ugh’s mighty intellect with her trollish wiles. This is the reason Milgos hounded the trolls retreat blasting them all the while with his wand of ice and frost.”

Anther patron deigned to interrupt though not as rudely as the last “I heard Milgos was out of magic. He had a wand that shot pink energy missiles but it was ashed by a dragon.”

The Jarl's son prior to the fireball

“You heard right but in the time we spent burning the bodies of the first troll onslaught Milgos had rummaged through our bag of holding. In it he found the wand of frost we had torn from the cold dead hands of none other than Enlandrin the notorious bastard and evil mage. And so Milgos blasted the hated Mountain Trolls with great storms of ice from Enlandrin’s wand, leaving many trolls rent asunder by great jagged hail stones the size of your head!” The crowd gasped in terror.

“Well may you gasp for I too was shocked. Ugh and I picked our way through the carnage trailing the mad Dark Elf in human guise. Ugh probably wasn’t concerned by the horrific scenes as he had personally committed far worse. Do you recall the story of him eating fried goblin?”

The crowd nodded and one called out “It weren’t true Betty. That’s just lies.”

“Of course it’s true.” Betty cried incredulously “I saw it myself. He’s done some terrible things but cannibalism is likely the worst. I already told you we aren’t heroes and what we do isn’t pretty. Do you want to know the real reason the Mountain Trolls were so mad at us? It’s because we killed the Jarl’s son. Milgos fried the infant with magic. He burnt a few of the trolls as well but seemed to do a tremendous job incinerating the Jarl’s son. This had the predictable effect of inciting the trolls to hurl themselves at us seeking murderous retribution. While Milgos had them on the run with icy blasts from his wand some of the Mountain Trolls were too stupid to know they were beat and fought us in the halls. They didn’t last long. Ugh and I cut them down. Then it was off to free the slaves and take everything of value that wasn’t nailed down. And here we are. The heroes return triumphant to the city. Let the bards spin their tales of heroism; at least you lot got the true story. Now leave me be. I have some drinking to do.”

Last Saturday we got some face to face gaming in; rolling dice, pushing mini’s and making juvenile jokes at the npcs expense. It was a whole lot of fun. I haven’t run a face to face game since the play test for Rot Tower so was feeling rusty and a little nervous; which is stupid because I was gaming with guys I’ve been friends with for almost a decade. Mike was back in town and we managed to get a game going with another friend Adam. I’m an old school DM at heart and, as I’d volunteered to run a game, we agreed on AD&D.

Once game day was confirmed I had two evenings to write something. With the internet and my D&D obsession I was spoilt for resources. In the end I used a few really good ones to put the game together. I took B1 ‘In Search of the Unknown’ and used it as a shell. The original map of the dungeon is not great and so I replaced it with a redesign found at the Dragonsfoot forum. I wrote it out in a DMing friendly format as –C talks about here so that the adventure would fit on two pages. I then took some interesting elements and random table results to spice up the dungeon from the Yavin award winning and free Secret Santicore, and the excellent Dungeon Alphabet. Finally I gave the rival humanoid tribes in the dungeon an extra spark by using the 'Random Orc Generator' in Knockspell 6 and Monster Business. Alternative magic items were supplied by a post from Beyond the Black Gate.

The revised B1 map from Dragonsfoot

Character generation went smoothly though Adam and Mike were unfamiliar with the AD&D books. 4d6 drop 1 down the line. Adam rolled incredibly well and almost qualified for a Paladin. In the end he settled on a Dwarf Fighter/Cleric with amazing saves thanks to a constitution score of 19. The dice were crueller to Mike who ended up with no characteristic bonuses. Mike decided to play a Dwarven fighter. As there were only two players they started at second level with an impressive AC provided by plate mail and shields. They also had 7 pre-generated hirelings to order around thanks to Meatshields!

As we started the game I asked the character’s names. Mike was Bill. I rolled my eyes and rather foolishly suggested Adam call his dwarf Ted. Adam agreed and so Bill and Ted went off on their excellent adventure. I can't seem to run a serious adventure to save myself and so this set the tone for the afternoon. I'm not so worried as the lighter the tone the more fun I have. While the hirelings had names no one took the time to find out what they were. We all knew they weren’t going to last long.

Among the highlights of the session were:

A showdown in the entrance hall where the band was surrounded by goblins. The goblins were routed but all attempts at parley and surrender were met with dwarven axe and hammer. Racial hatreds die hard.
Dungeon chicken. I let players choose 6 things from the equipment list. Mike picked a chicken which he used to check for traps by flinging it at suspicious objects and tunnels. Dungeon chicken may have saved them from a fireball trap by unmasking the illusion that hid it. Amazingly dungeon chicken survived and was joined by a second, more intelligent chicken (see gnomes below).
The group got involved in a loot off, racing to secure as much loot as they could while a rival gnomish adventuring group attempted the same. The gnomes greed got the better of them and they turned on the party only to be soundly defeated. A surviving gnome braved the transformation pool hoping to transform into something powerful to seek his revenge. The dice determined that he would become a chicken and so Ted ended up doubling the number of chickens he owned by the end of the adventure. Profit.
The gnomes were playing with the decapitated heads of their goblinoid foes when the adventurers met them. This rapidly degenerated into a ‘head’ jokes and related innuendo at the gnomes expense. Good fun.
Hireling's were ordered not to call Bill and Ted 'milord' else the monsters realise the dwarves were important and target them.
Hirelings encouraged to carry bright torches into dangerous situations, despite the dwarves not needing light to see. They were further encouraged to serve as distractions by being gifted 'bedazzled' cloaks and 'shiny' armour to wear.
The party rescued a blink dog who was trapped in a jar by the owner of the dungeon Ekim the Lawful. On a sidenote Ekim seemed misnamed, as his lair was full of nasty evil things. Thanks to me only having one dog 'voice', the blink dog was dubbed Scooby.
The party had found some contact poison which they ~~exploited~~ used to good effect against an ogre. Acting simultaneously, Bill struck the ogre with a vial of poison hurled from his sling. The brute failed it’s save and died but just prior to its projectile vomiting death it plunged the legendary ‘bleeding spear’ into Bill. The dwarf came close to dying but made a mad dash to a pool of healing which he collapsed in at -3 HP.

That was great fun. We played for close to 4 hours and by the end I was spent. It reminded me how much I miss face to face gaming. The old groups have broken up with people moving, falling out or having family commitments. I’ve gamed with perhaps a dozen people over the years and it would be great to put a group together again. For now I make do with the weekly Google+ game.

‘I don’t know who killed the troll child but I killed your Jarl.’ – Ugh practises diplomacy.

The temple guards bowed respectfully and opened the door of the shrine. Jana strode into the hall and up to the altar. There she paused in quiet reflection till the Patriarch approached.

‘You looked troubled.’ The Patriarch noted. ‘I take it the latest venture ended poorly. Was there more misbehavior on your companion’s part? I trust there was no further cannibalism?’

‘No, Ugh has reigned himself in. Instead I suspect Milgos slew a child, by accident for the dark elf has no malice in him. Still I find the act unsettling and it only serves to stiffen the resolve of our enemies. Nothing shocks me anymore Patriarch. From the way Milgos and Ugh talk about building towers and keeps it seems the end is nigh.’

‘Clearly you are troubled Jana. Best share your burden. I will listen.’

‘The last venture saw us clash again with the mountain trolls. We felt we had them routed but they returned to their lair in numbers. I, like the others grow weary of battling them. In the tunnels on the way in we had to deal with a small band of dark elf scouts. These dark elves are not like Milgos. They dress in lizard skins and their eyes have no pupils. They lasted barely ten seconds as Milgos tore into them with fire and ice magic. Clearly he harbors a great hatred for dark elves of all kinds. Interestingly they had a trained basilisk with them. Its head was hooded like a falcons and it was kept lashed to a handler’s pole. During the magical barrage the hood was torn asunder and for the briefest moment Milgos met it’s baleful gaze. He shook it off and the creature perished in a barrage of magic missiles.’

‘The trolls had repaired the great double doors which led into their domain. We knocked respectfully and Milgos attempted a subterfuge. Osric and Ugh chatting away in common spoiled his efforts. Osric’s half-elven accent was a particular give away. Credit where it is due however for Milgos would not stop trying to trick his way in. Alas brains would not suffice and so brawn would have to do. Ugh kicked the door in and a melee broke out with the guards. During the skirmish Milgos crept ahead discovering the troll hall, where previously he had disrupted a clan feast, was once again occupied by a score of mountain trolls. A trollish hag was organizing them for war and they marched to meet us in the hall where the door guards were continuing to mount a desperate defence. Acting swiftly Milgos blocked their approach with a wall of ice before alerting us that company was coming.'

The Patriarch interrupted. ‘Ah Milgos, once again acting impetuously and imperiling the group. Was it not his fireball into a crowded feast hall that slew the Jarl’s child and in so doing started this wretched vendetta?’

‘So it would seem Patriarch. Though Milgos' carelessness has not killed anyone but himself as yet. His quick thinking with the wall of ice bought us time to dispatch the mountain troll guards. The last fell before the pair of savage war shrews Osric had brought along. We headed north towards the kitchens, hoping to bypass the bulk of the trolls only to run into the troll hag and some guards. She asked to parley and for a while things looked to be going amicably.

‘Where is your leader?’ the troll hag asked. Milgos answered from the anonymity afforded by his invisibility.

‘Show yourself. How can we negotiate in good faith when you will not show yourself.’ The hag continued. Milgos was unmoved and so Ugh took up negotiations claiming to be the leader of the group. Ugh speaking for the party should have been warning enough that things would turn sour but alas this appears to be a lesson we have to learn the hard way.

‘The one question I have for you is this…’ Began the troll hag.

‘We ask the questions.’ Ugh interrupted.

‘Just this single question answered and we shall end our grievances. Who was it that turned the Jarl’s son to ash? Who slew the Jarl?’

‘That’s two questions but I shall answer you. I don’t know who killed the child but I claim credit for slaying your king.’

‘At the news the troll jarl’s wife, who had been invisible up to this point, shrieked bloody vengeance and invoked an ancient trollish curse. Ugh transformed before my eyes. His hands and feet became hooves, horns sprouted from his forehead, his body shrunk and he grew a great beard. He had become a goat!’

Ugh transformed - possibly gaining a charisma point or two

‘Even with our frontline fighter goatified we were able to put the mountain trolls to the sword. The trollish hag was last to fall detonating a great blast of fire that felled Milgos momentarily and charred the war shrews. At the cessation of hostilities I set about dispelling the enchantment on Ugh. It was not long before he was back to his normal self. I must admit I had half a mind to leave him in goat form but Milgos and Osric wouldn’t have allowed that. The loot was particularly scarce as it was apparent that we had cleaned them out on the last foray. There are still some trolls skulking about down there though they will mostly be maids. If they are smart they will leave and trouble us no more. I pray we do not fight them again for I have had enough of slaying mountain trolls.'

I didn’t play Cthulhu till I was out of high school. I’d been playing a number of ‘thespy’ White Wolf style games for a few years and got a kick out of the low power, ‘your doomed’ vibe the game gave off.

I dig playing the average Joe trapped in a terrible situation that gets progressively worse. The first character I played was an antique dealer who was thrown out of a window by malevolent forces, banished an evil spirit trapped in a roof space, sledgehammered a desiccated wizard to his second death before finally being consumed by a slime monster living in the walls of a mansion. In Gary’s current game I’m playing a detective with some incredibly low skills. I am amazed when I pass any sort of roll.

Which leads me to another point I really like about Cthulhu, the rules simplicity and transparency. With head butt 50% you can expect to land a blow with your bonce half the time. This coupled with the games rules light approach appeals to me. In the last three sessions I have rolled five or six times. The game has focussed on gathering clues, following up leads and asking pertinent questions.

In the last game we:

· Learned the rumoured demise of the Carlyle expedition was greatly exaggerated.

· The Carlyle expedition survivors want to open a gate to a madness inducing realm.

· Cops are not always the enemy and may help you with useful information. Who knew? Rather than arrest us for fleeing the scene of a grisly murder the police helped us with additional information on a series of ritual killings before sending us on our way.

· White folks in the 1920’s were awfully suspicious of Africans. No doubt they are up to no good with their voodoo witchcraft.

· The Cult of the Bloody Tongue, based in a mountain hideout in Africa, are active worldwide. Surely they are guilty of killing my friend Elijah Jackson for getting too close to the shocking truth!

With just Roger and me playing we are going to have to be particularly cunning to come out of this alive. A trip to Harlem to see a Voodoo priest is on the cards. It’s a good thing we have back up characters.

Hint: African magic is never beneficial

How is a second batch of investigators meant to pick up the pieces from a failed investigation? The various conceits such as prior investigators leaving detailed notes always rang false to me. One option could be to play policemen investigating the disappearance of the prior investigators and then trying hard not to act on knowledge these fresh characters wouldn’t have. I must admit I find it hard not to meta-game in these situations. How do you keep sensible continuity vital to the believability of a clue laden Cthulhu story after a party wipe? Which leads me to a second thought.

Can you fail in a role-playing game? As people say character death and insanity in Cthulhu are expected and yet it’s still an odd feeling to have a character perish. My character in Cthulhu is probably dead and that’s OK. I suspect my next character will be a lot more paranoid and I’ll probably power game his stats as much as I can so that I pass those critical rolls. I have to wonder if you’re playing Cthulhu in the spirit of the game if you have martial arts, explosives and shotguns at 95%? Here’s what could well amount to Monty’s last tale:

Well this is a grim situation we find ourselves in. It seems the questionable folk of the Juju house were indeed cultists. I had suspected as much but chose the noble path of not giving in to racial stereotyping and this is the result it seems. Struck down by invisible Nubian warriors. In the dead of night the blighters are difficult to see. I would tell you of events from the start so that in the likely event that I am sacrificed to some nameless bloody tongued god you may pick up the pieces and continue the investigation. I trust you shall be more paranoid than I and shoot all those of colour on sight. This could of course become problematic should your investigations lead you to Kenya. Regardless here is what transpired before my present predicament.

Our first trip to Harlem was an unpleasant affair. Drunks abound in this ghetto. The Juju house sold African gewgaws of little consequence. Our enquiries of the old shop owner got us an introduction to Mokungo who we were to meet late that night. I noticed a key about the shop owner’s neck and ascertained that there was a basement beneath the shop. An inner voice told me to pull a gun on the owner but I resisted the temptation for such would be the actions of a mad man. Oh how I regret not acting on that instinct now.

It's ones duty to formulate an escape plan

We left the Juju house with little to show for our efforts except for the feeling that the African was hampering our investigations. Instead we turned our attention to Erica Carlysle, sister of the clearly doomed expedition leader Roger Carlyle. We got her attention by hinting that her brother was still alive. This got us our audience, where Erica told us of a Nubian princess who had bent Roger to her will. She also provided us with several texts that gave her the heebee jeebees. In addition she told us of Roger’s constant nightmares but not what they were about, as Roger would not tell anyone. Finally she signed a letter giving us access to his psychiatric records.

We had an 8 o’clock appointment with Mokungo and returned to the Juju house. Suspecting skulduggery we staked out the shop for a good 10 minutes. Seeing no one enter and deciding we had best see what was afoot we headed in. Mokungo was there as was Silas the storeowner. Not liking the situation I chose to remain at the door and watch the alley while Dr Raymond Howser approached the Africans and engaged them in a short conversation. I recall a panicked shriek from Dr Raymond just prior to being struck on the head by a metal object. We had fallen into a trap and it is most unlikely that we shall survive.

‘Ugh, a little help here.’ - Osric as he confronts the formless spawn.

In a hovel on the outskirts of a pig farm Mugwort, lay-priest and seer of Tsathoggua the demon toad, clutched his forehead and writhed in pain on the muddy floor. Rance, a fellow lay-priest, looked on with concern. ‘What do you see Mugwort?’

His companion struggled to answer through teeth clenched in pain. ‘I see the temple defiled. The shrine to the holy amphibious trinity, to St Toad himself has been breached by heathens.’

‘I see them set out on a forgotten path to the Fane. A half elf leads an armoured oaf and a Halfling wench. He holds a tattered map. It leads to the most sacred of sites. The place we had long thought lost they have found!’ Mugwort became excited and leapt to his feet. “We must go there at once!’

Rance placed a calming hand on Mugwort’s shoulder. ‘Calm yourself brother. It would take us many days to journey there, if indeed your vision would be enough to guide us. This group you mention reminds me of the Westwood Warriors. Tsathoggua knows them well for they have crossed him before. They slew our high priest many months ago. You will recall the massacre in the tunnels of Enlandrin. Odd though for they are missing their wizard. Tell me what else do you see?’

‘The intruders cross the threshold. They examine each thing in turn, the murals, altar and sacred font but they do so carefully for they are no fools. They regard the idols with cowed reverence for they know Tsathoggua’s power in this place. They can feel it. They are the flies in the house toads. The half elf is called by the darkness of an alcove. He trembles before the sacred idol of K’Tehe the Destroyer. Curiosity gets the better of him and he prods the formless spawn of Tsathoggua that lies dormant in an offering bowl. The ooze bubbles into life. They have awoken the guardian and will pay the price.’

‘That is the end of them. No one can stand before the fury of the formless spawn of Tsathoggua. A fitting end I say…’

‘Hold your celebrations for the vision continues. They battle in Tsathoggua’s sacred hall. Their steel does nothing. I see the formless spawn splitting and now there are two. The heathens realize their insignificance before such an implacable foe. The bewildered look on their faces is a blessing from Tsathoggua. The half elf flees like a craven. The armoured oaf retreats to cower behind a pit. Like desperate fools they assault the spawn with furniture, they push at the sacred oozing forms with pews and altars. Woe! Oh great calamity! The spawn have been cast into the sacred pit, pushed in by the ludicrous failings of the heathens.’

‘All is not lost brother. The formless spawn will rise from the pit and finish them. They are not so easily defeated.’

“Cruel injustice! I see the heathens tearing down the Fane's great stone doors. They are using them to seal the pit. The formless spawn is trapped! They continue to search and touch nothing this time. They venture down the stairs. I see them walk the corridors. They have found the breeding chamber. They squirm uncomfortably. The murals and the divine ideas contained within revolt them. Their tiny minds cannot comprehend what they see. They seize the wicked toad idol. It toys with them as it speaks to their minds.’

Rance ventured hopefully ‘Tsathoggua can be most persuasive. Perhaps one of them will turn. The rewards for service are great and the wicked toad idol and its power to enslave with but a thought is a worthy prize.’

‘Alas their hearts are steeped in detestable virtue. They do not heed the relic’s entreaties. They move again now to the crypts. The armoured oaf approaches a coffin. He removes the lid and is suitably punished for disturbing the righteous rest of the dead. The blessed of Tsathoggua, half toad and half man, assail them. Mummified, they absorb the blows of their foes. They seem impervious to the arrows of the half elf. The Halfling’s feeble gods will not answer her desperate prayers here in the heart of Tsathoggua‘s temple. They know they are doomed yet still they battle on.’

‘About time they perished. I could not think of a more suitable ending than to be slain by the blessed of Tsathoggua.’

‘Woe brother Rance! I see the blessed torn asunder by the hated armoured oaf and a simple spear thrust from the half elf. We are undone. The Fane of St Toad lies undefended. The heathens retreat but will not be gone long.’ Mugwort shook his head clearing it of the vision. ‘We must gather our strength and head to the Fane at once. Our god has shown me the way. We will put an end to these blasphemers once and for all.’

Warhammer Fantasy Battle 3rd Edition was a staple of my high school years. This time we figured on a bigger battle than our chaos warband skirimishes. We would field over 100 models on each side. Shane suggested we put everything on the table, points be damned. I fielded my Orc army, most of which was painted in highschool. It was light on goblins as I had stolen their bases for another project. The Orcs opted for big solid blocks of infantry while Chaos went with many smaller bands to set-up flank attacks. As my army was horribly outnumbered we wracked our brains for a scenario that would make for a satisfying battle. Flames of War had me thinking about objectives and so we set some bottle caps on my side of the board representing the nectar of the gods that the Goblinoids would have to defend for 6 turns. We would do battle on a heavily forested board.

Smaug and his Orc army

Smaug - small winged firebreathing dragon - 250 points
Smaug's Buddy - Manticore - 200 points
12 Orc arrer boys
20 Black Orcs with halberds
20 Orc boys with halberds (Ruglud's armoured orcs)
15 Gobbo's with 3 Goblin Fanatics
12 Wolf riders
1 Wolf drawn chariot (without scythed wheels)

Ravening hordes of Chaos

3 blocks of 10 Maruaders
2 blocks of 10 Beastmen
3 stupidity prone Trolls
6 Ogres
5 blocks of 10 Chaos Thugs
Tiberius the feeble - Chaos Warrior serving as General

SETUP AND DEPLOYMENT

Tiberius keeps a watchful eye over the Trolls and his horde in general.

Starting positions. The bottle caps are the objectives while the abundance of trees will prove more of an annoyance than anything else.

UNITS IN RESERVE
Mini Smaug and his Orc army	Ravening hordes of Chaos

DEPLOYMENT SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army: The Dragon and Manticore anchor the lines with the aim of holding the objectives. Each is supported by a block of solid orc infantry. Ravening hordes of Chaos: Small groups of elite troops spread wide. Maximum coverage that ended up being hindered by the terrain and saw forward units blocking the advance of those behind.

TURN 1

The chariot rattles forward, the Orc boys march over to the objective. Manticore takes to the air.

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army	Ravening hordes of Chaos Smaug got lucky and toasted a Chaos Thug with his fiery breath.

TURN 1 SUMMARY

Mini Smaug and his Orc army: General advance. We consult the flying rules. By the end of the night we still don't know how the fly-by attack rules work. Animosity rears it's ugly head as the Black Orcs spend the turn hurling abuse at the neighbouring gobbo's.
Ravening hordes of Chaos: Another general advance hindered by forgetting to reserve move. We then adopt a 'march' rule that came to be the norm in later editions of Warhammer.

TURN 2

The chariot crashes home and we learn the wierd and unique rules for chariots in hand to hand

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army	Ravening hordes of Chaos 1 unit of Chaos Thugs A handful of Chaos Thugs crushed under a chariots wheels. 1 Troll killed by a gobbo fanatic

TURN 2 SUMMARY

Mini Smaug and his Orc army: The chariot crashes home then gets mired in combat. The Goblin fanatics are released and combined with Smaug's breath destroy a unit of Chaos Thugs and a Troll. The regeneration rolls were unkind to the Chaos General all game with not a single success.
Ravening hordes of Chaos: The horde continue to advance. The powerful Chaos Mauraders are delayed by the units ahead and find it difficult to get into combat.

TURN 3

The Goblin fanatics whirl back into their parent unit killing 5 and routing the gobbo's

The Beastmen learn that it's hard to wound an Orc. The Ogre's lurk in a nearby wood.

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army 5 Gobbo's. 1 wolf rider chariot	Ravening hordes of Chaos 1 unit of Chaos Thugs A handful of Chaos Thugs crushed under a chariots wheels. 1 Troll

TURN 3 SUMMARY

Mini Smaug and his Orc army: The fanatics, lured out by a screen of Chaos thugs, now whirl around uncontrolled. One ploughs back into it's parent unit causing carnage. The Manticore does a fly-by on the beastmen killing one. It will spend the rest of the day puzzling out the intricacies of the aerial rules, banking slowly to the right and playing no further part in the game.
Ravening hordes of Chaos: The beastmen charge into the block of Orc Halberds. They are ground down and slowly pushed back and yet they will not break. Tiberius the Chaos Warrior herds his trolls into the cover of a nearby wood. The wolf rider chariot is swamped and pulled apart. The rules said it ran amok but it made more sense to say it was smashed to pieces.

TURN 4

The Black Orcs charge a troll, drive it back into the forest and then are swamped by Chaos Thugs and Ogres!

Orc Halberds push back the hordes and delay more powerful units from getting involved.

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army 5 Gobbo's. 4 Black Orcs 1 wolf rider chariot	Ravening hordes of Chaos 1 unit of Chaos Thugs A handful of Chaos Thugs crushed under a chariots wheels. 3 Trolls 1 beastman

TURN 4 SUMMARY

Mini Smaug and his Orc army: Smaug charges into the forest and tears apart a troll which fails to regenerate. The Black orcs charge and are counter charged by Ogres and Thugs. The Thugs are hurled back by the Black Orc General and his troops but the flanking ogres prove a difficult proposition.
Ravening hordes of Chaos: A troll tears down 3 Black Orcs before succuming to halberd blows. The Ogres and Thugs fell another Black Orc while the Orc Halberds on the left flank are slowly surrounded.

TURN 5

Tiberius the Chaos Warrior and General of the horde is incinerated by Smaugs fiery breathe

Halberd wielding Orcs surrounded by a herd of Beastmen.

Panic ensues as a unit of Thugs charge Smaug and are butchered.

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army 5 Gobbo's. 5 Black Orcs 6 Orc Halberds 2 Gobbo wolf riders 1 wolf rider chariot	Ravening hordes of Chaos 2 units of Chaos Thugs A handful of Chaos Thugs crushed under a chariots wheels. 3 Trolls Tiberius - Chaos Warrior General 4 Beastmen - killed by Halberd wielding orcs

TURN 5 SUMMARY

Mini Smaug and his Orc army: The wolf riders charge on the far right flank and get bogged down in a fight that goes no where. The Orc Arrer boys fire volleys into the horde and turn back an assualt by Chaos Thugs. Smaug incinerates the enemy general and destroys a unit of thugs single handedly.
Ravening hordes of Chaos: The Black orcs are slowly pushed back and wrapped around by the ogres. A suicide charge by some thugs into Smaug and their predictable anihilation causes ripples of panic throughout the Chaos forces. The Beastmen swarm around the Orc Halberds charging them in the rear. The Orcs nerve holds and they hurl the Beastmen back.

TURN 6

It all comes down to this. Halberd Orcs swarmed by the Ravening Hordes.

COMBAT CASUALTY SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army 5 Gobbo's. 5 Black Orcs 8 Orc Halberds 4 Gobbo wolf riders 1 wolf drawn chariot	Ravening hordes of Chaos 2 units of Chaos Thugs A handful of Chaos Thugs crushed under a chariots wheels. 3 Trolls Tiberius - Chaos Warrior General A handful of thugs torn down by wold riders 1 Ogre 6 Beastment butchered over many rounds by the Halberd Orcs

TURN 6 SUMMARY
Mini Smaug and his Orc army: The left flank and the associated objective was held thanks to those brave Orc Boys who defied the odds and pushed back the Horde time and time again. In the final turn they were surrounded on all sides and refused to panic. Ravening hordes of Chaos: Everything is thrown at the left flank but the dice gods are cruel and the Orcs hold.

The dragon proved too tough for the right flank. Aerial rules are painful to understand and the manticore would have been better spent on the ground. It's ineptitude left it's flank ripe for the taking. However the dice gods were not on the side of the Ravening Horde and the Orc Halberds did surprisingly well. The Orcs were equipped as their models were, with halberds. This gave them a slight edge in pitched battle as the Ravening Hordes came to the table with only standard equipment. Every little bit counts but in the end Orcish endurance won out. The objectives were held for the required 6 turns. A good game and a reminder of just how crunchy the rules for the 3rd edition of Warhammer Fantasy Battle are.

Generated by WWPD's BatRepper Software.

The Keep on the Borderlands holds fond memories for many

Keep on the Borderlands is held as a prime example of how to set-up a sandbox and run an action packed game. Some label it a meat grinder, it can be. I wanted to run a pick-up game while the regular DM was overseas. I selected Keep on the Borderlands and started things where the action is, the Caves of Chaos. It worked great.

Pacing in a game is critical, particularly for a pick-up game. We game from 6 to 9 on Wednesday nights. That's three hours to cram as much D&D in as possible. I wanted to include character generation. Normally character generation slows everything to a crawl, particularly if you don't have enough books on hand. Things get worse when you start buying equipment and look to hire men at arms. So I used Jeff Reints character generation as a party game. Jeff makes judicious use of index cards and I had bought a stack on my lunch break. They proved handy. Each character managed to fit on a single card!

Owlbear wins

Inspired by this blog entry at Hill Cantons blog I produced a random starting equipment chart to speed things along. The random weapons were modified to account for Weapon v Armour Class. This is something I have never used before as it adds a layer of complexity to the game and slows combat down. Stuart from Strange Magic inspired me to incorporate the bonus/penally different weapons had against various armour directly into the hit roll. His post about it is here. The group ended up as a band of elves accompanied by a Paladin. Their adventuring highlights include:

Adam naming his hireling Rob in the hope that I would not kill him. As it transpired Rob was the first to die. His next hireling was called Bob <sigh>.
Negotiations with Gnolls saw them directed to a bears den.
The Paladin called out a challenge from the entrance to the bears lair asking it to fight them in fair combat. The band then set about preparing an ambush.
The bear turned out to be an Owlbear. The party fell one by one to the creatures claws and hug. As each character died they took on the role of a plucky hireling. Adam's elven cleric/mage was the last man standing and was unlucky not to land a killing blow with his hammer. Instead the elf was decapitated by a swipe from the beast as he desperately attempted a sleep spell.

Everyone is Half-Orc

I was a little crestfallen about the TPK but the group took it in their stride. In fact it had been a lot of fun for all. The advantage with Jeff's party game creation method is that no one was that attached to a character. Lightning fast character generation produces some odd results you wouldn't have come up with on your own. 10 minutes after the TPK a new group was ready to face the Caves of Chaos. In the secret allocation of Race and Class everyone had selected Half-Orc fighters. Some had a dash of Assassin and one did a reasonable impersonation of a Cleric. Highlights for the second group include:

Shane has a d30. It was used to generate the first letter of the PC's. We ended up with Half-Orcs called Zerbo and Xerxes.
Tracking their first batch of 'good' characters hoping to kill them and take their stuff. Everyone knows parties are at their most vulnerable on their way out of a dungeon and these Half-Orcs were a cunning lot.
A battered Owlbear was put to the sword. The bodies of their first party were looted and the equipment redistributed. This is the first time I have seen a group loot their 'own' bodies. Bizarre.
One of the Gnolls who'd mislead the group was found half eaten in the Owlbear's lair. He had headed into the caves to see how the party had fared before falling to the raging monster.
Grey Oozes were smacked off ceilings. They proceeded to corrode halberds and armour before being dispatched.
After conquering the Owlbear lair the group headed to their next randomly selected cave. It just so happened to contain the biggest bad in the place. The Minotaur gave them a run for their money.
Noting the bovine smell at the cave entrance, Chris determined that whoever lived within the cave owned cattle which in turn meant that they would be rich. Thus the group should enter and take everything. His rational explanation for the bull manure smell was perfect in its naivety.
Shooting into combat is a bad idea. A luckless hireling disrupted the Half-Orc cleric's command spell at a crucial juncture. To make up for it the hireling discarded his crossbow and waded into close combat. He was impaled on the minotaurs horns the following round.
The hero's overcame the Minotaur and found a substantial amount of treasure. In all likelihood enough to level despite their multi-classing.

Minotaur - the true source of the bovine smell

Thanks to Adam, Chris and Shane for an excellent game that I had a blast running. In 2.5 hours we went through character generation twice and completed some tough parts of the Caves of Chaos. That's a lot of game for a short period of time. The perfect amount of time for a drop in and have a go game.

Pete, Shane and I have gamed together for most of our lives. We tend towards farce, mucking around and disrupting the DM’s plans at every turn. Yet we keep coming back. When someone runs a pre-written adventure like Shane’s Barony of the Damned or Pete’s Power Behind the Throne we take things seriously for the most part.

These adventures worked for us.

But if its one of our written adventures look out. Perhaps this is due to their one-shot nature. Lately I’ve been thinking about doing the following to prevent frustration on my part as the DM:

Discourage disruptive PC’s like Halflings. Halflings are inevitably played as squeaky voiced Mickey Mouse clones. The voice will eventually drive you mad. One occasion saw the group play Barbarians as cavemen that don’t play nice with society. Which makes sense but made the city based adventure planned for the night problematic.
Curtail oil. It’s rules effectiveness sees it used till it becomes a monotonous crutch. I have seen oil flasks ruled as alchemist fire as opposed to lamp oil. This makes sense given the flammability and raw damage and I should reduce availability accordingly. It was amusing to see it used as a tool for assassination though.
Hand wave as much ‘town’ as I can. My problem with the ‘town’ is that one person does their own thing for a bit leaving the others bored. I have been in this position many times. Bored or frustrated players tend to set things, like taverns, on fire. Therefore I hand wave the whole thing “gain d3 hirelings each and buy whatever you like off the equipment list within reason.” To me the adventure happens at the adventure site, be it a ruin or dungeon, and not in the village.
Hirelings are a finite resource. Players become frustrated at not being allowed to hire a dozen hirelings post expedition to replace losses. I have come to see the pool of hirelings as a finite resource but my players don’t see things this way.

Last Friday we gamed. I wasn’t sure what to run and had been speed-reading Tomb of the Iron God and Dwimmermount. I settled for something I knew. B2 Keep on the Borderlands. After swift character creation we began at the ravine’s entrance with the players facing a series of caves. I decided to pick things up from where the last group had left off. A Halfling fighter, Half Orc assassin and a mob of hirelings headed straight to the Temple of Evil Chaos. There was much burning. The following happened:

Goblins always show up as wandering monsters.

A reaction roll dictated that a wandering group of goblins was friendly. A roll on the Monster Business chart saw they were rock painting. They offered to serve as guides in return for a shovel and ’magic’ whistle.
Booted feet caused loud echoes in the temple corridors and so all footwear was abandoned. The Half Orc and Halfling crept ahead with the Halfling abandoning his armour, favouring stealth. Before going into combat the Halfling would have a hireling strap him back into his armour.
A horde of skeletons were delicately roped together and their weapons deftly stolen. They would only animate if the gem they guarded was touched or if assaulted. Ultimately they animated and promptly fell over each other becoming tangled. They were easily dispatched. Had this been a straight up fight they party would have been butchered.
A horde of zombies was lured into an expansive field of oil laid out as a trap by the adventurers. Their brainless shambling approach saw them badly burned and then simply dispatched. Another TPK avoided.
A band of acolytes were interrupted as they complained about a ‘priest’ who was not sending enough victims their way. The players found out the usefulness of maces as we again used the AD&D Weapon verse Armour charts. Pete wasn’t impressed and I am reconsidering it’s use.
Excursion number one was a great success and the Half Orc assassin levelled up!
A trip to town saw the heroes desperate for oil. They went door-to-door begging for supplies and offering ludicrous prices. They also hired a Priest of Thunder and his acolytes.
Further exploration of the Temple of Evil Chaos saw the group barge in on a second band of acolytes. During the melee the Priest of Thunder betrayed them. All the hirelings, including the goblin guides, were slain. The high priests efforts to cast powerful spells like hold person were disrupted by lucky blows before the spells could be completed. The dice were running hot for the players.
Powerful chaotic artefacts were cautiously liberated, being lassoed onto a cloak before being bundled up. They would later inflict their curse when touched while being cleaned. The curse was seen as a frustration to the players and honestly was better resolved quickly and painlessly with a shabbily role-played trip to the priest back in town. There they blatantly hinted that they were cursed till the priest cast a remove curse spell.
A second horde of zombies was lured into a field of burning oil and suffered greatly for their brainlessness. The arrival of the Temple’s High Priest saw the Halfling fail his save verse spells and become paralysed. The Half Orc grabbed him and legged it, lighting several flasks of oil behind him to cover his retreat.
Excursion two was a great success, despite all the hirelings being butchered, as the traitorous Priest of Thunder was loaded with magic gear. Everyone levelled! No one would hire on with them nor was there additional oil for sale.
With no one in the tavern willing to join them the players looked to recruit from the monstrous populace for their next assault on the Temple. A wandering monster roll determined a band of goblins setting snares in the woods; the reaction roll said they weren’t immediately hostile. The Half Orc’s appearance helped and soon they were directed to the orc caves. Some solid role-playing saw the recruitment of 10 orc warriors and an ogre mercenary.
The Temple High Priest was caught by surprise as he organised an ambush. The ogre cut him down and his zombies were dispatched. While prior hirelings had not been used as fodder the orcs certainly were.
The main temple was discovered. The Halfling failed a save and was hypnotised by some pretty temple lights. A horde of skeletons descended upon the group. It was a dramatic and close fight but once more the dice favoured the hero’s. A bloody ogre was their only ally left standing.
With the battle over the assassin put a war hammer into the ogre’s eye. The assassin had had a few attempts to assassinate creatures and on every occasion he had failed his % chance of success roll. This attempt was no different. He did automatically hit on each attempt and, thanks to another lucky roll, the damage inflicted was just enough to kill the ogre outright. The two heroes’ then looted the temple and the ogre’s lair.
Excursion three was a great success and everyone levelled again! The treasure in the temple is insanely high and the pair now has impressive magic armour, shields and weapons. As both characters are now level 4 I suspect the Caves of Chaos may not be as much of a challenge going forward.

Ogre 'ally' prior to war hammer to face incident.

It was 3 am when we finished gaming. Once again the Caves of Chaos produced the goods. It thoroughly deserves its status as a classic. There is just so much you can do with the module.

I ran an AD&D game on Google+ recently. Part of running older games is recapturing the wonder and excitement I experienced as a kid, nostalgia I guess. I had pondered creating a sandbox setting for the game I’m running and figured that I should draw on the things that inspired me when I was growing up. The major influences were Fighting Fantasy and Lone Wolf books, games of Talisman, Warhammer 3e and countless readings of D&D Red Box. Visually Gary Chalk and John Blanche were huge influences on me. While I am reminiscing, Callum an old DM and friend, joined the game calling in from NSW. Excellent!

Gary Chalk illustrated my childhood.

Callum had rolled up Chuck the dwarven cleric/fighter and zealot of Dunethoin. Dunethoin is the god of secrets and mysteries. Brendan brought Milgos and his henchwoman Betty. After a substantial Google+ hic-up killed about an hour of game time we got underway and achieved the following:

· Chuck met Milgos in one of Khare’s many taverns and immediately made all present aware of his zealous unwavering faith. Milgos was not impressed by the dwarf's fanaticism. He had recently taken up the title of 'Milgos the Glum' as he brooded on the loss of his dark elf form.

· Chuck was looking to explore the location of some cyclopean ruins that were held by a band of Slaang worshipping marauders. Slaang is the chaotic god of malice.

· Upon arriving at the caves they were questioned by a man concealed in the undergrowth who insisted he was a hermit and that the group had to leave as there were “definitely no cyclopean ruins here to explore, thank you very much.” After a drawn out conversation Chuck became suspicious and peered into the cave. While the ‘hermit’ had stalled for time a band of marauders had gathered at the caves entrance. Combat was swift thanks to a hold person spell and some terrible rolls.

· Efforts to push the ‘held’ marauders off a cliff face were interrupted by the main marauder group led by a Witch of Slaang. Once they were dispatched a marauder was spared and brow beaten into forsaking his god Slaang and instead worshipping Dunethoin.

· Chuck’s new ‘ally’ spilled the beans on the caves layout and features mentioning some tunnels that were too small for the bulky marauders to explore. These tunnels would be ignored.

· The witch’s body turned to mist and began to float away but was frozen solid by Milgos’ magic. The frozen chunks were then scooped into a bag of holding.

· A cave demon was found and dispatched. Milgos’ displacer cloak gave him the confidence to enter melee.

· A giant stone head was discovered in the cave demons lair. It was said to allow direct communication with the god Slaang who would grant a wish to any who bested him in a contest of wits. Milgos was torn but would have no truck with dark gods despite his desire to return to his drow form. Chuck got out his chisel and defaced the head ruining it.

· Further exploration found a survivor of a prior expedition, Mad Mord, who gave them some extra information on the cyclopean ruins which the players didn’t really pick up on. Probably because at this point we were rushing things.

Sorcery! The feared Cave Demon turns out to be a manticore.

The adventure I ran was a homebrew influenced by the Sorcery! series of books, specifically the Shamutanti Hills, with an eye to fine tune it into a one page dungeon entry. No adventure survives contact with the players and despite my fatigue on the night I picked up on a few things that didn’t really work:

· The adventure needed more detail as the caves were overshadowed by combat. Callum thought they were moving through a dungeon when they were moving through natural caves. This could also be because the fighting started well before any exploration.

· More build up was required. There was a big fight at the entrance and then some rushed and muddled exploring.

· Some other sort of opponent beyond the marauders and the cave demon was required. Is there room in the caves for another faction if I space things out?

· The puzzle, which led to the portal concealing a cool encounter and substantial treasure, was either too well hidden or simply not picked up on by the players. The primary goal seemed to be clear the dungeon of monsters first and if there's any play time left explore.

· I got the impression the players weren’t impressed with re-skinned humanoids preferring to battle the classic creatures. The players searched in vain for the spell book of a witch after she was killed. They became disheartened and queried how she could cast spells. It’s hardly my job as a DM to explain that she was a re-skinned ogre-mage.

· The marauders were re-skinned minotaur’s with a random mutation. Thanks to the random mutation roll one of the marauders could psionically cast sleep. I think this met with raised eyebrows that he cast a spell without a spell book and do it while wearing armour. This is probably a bit of the old 3e fairness/monsters built like players mindset creeping in.

I’ll keep working on this adventure and the Sorcery! setting as I think both have potential. It was great gaming with both Brendan and Callum. It has been far too many years. Nostalgia is a good thing.

Just like the party but with more powers

Players are right to fear the Drow. AD&D traditionally starts hard. You have a handful of hit points and have to scramble for your wins. Then you hit mid level and a buffer of hit points protect you from mistakes. The beasts of the monster manual fall before your might, particularly creatures that are sacks of hit points with no powers. Things seem easy. Which is why Gygax introduced Drow. Drow, like players, don’t play fair. They cast spells, use poison, have magic resistance and allow the DM to indulge in mean underhanded tactics. The kicker is their sweet loot, like Drow cloaks and adamantium chainmail, decay in the sunlight. The pay-off for battling them isn’t always great. Drow were Gygax’s leveler, they make things tough again.

Which is why I was a disappointed when the group decided to avoid drow territory preferring to take their chances dragon hunting. The group love killing dragons and rightly so, they tend to be rich!

Things that happened last game were:

Milgos the mage thief, Betty the swordswoman, Chuck the priest and Ratnik the barbaric tribesman ventured into the silent halls of the Mountain Trolls. The signs of the Troll purge obvious to all. Great piles of burnt bones lay where the heroes had stacked them in pyres and the walls remained scarred from the assault of both magical fire and ice. Nothing was foolish enough to assault the band in this place.
A Minotaur outpost was discovered with the beasts seizing the initiative, charging into the narrow confines of the tunnels to do battle. This made casting area effect spells a risky proposition. Milgos fled and was head butted twice by great bull headed men who pursued. Betty barely withstood the barrage of axe blows and Ratnik fell. Chuck kept folk alive by channeling Dunethain’s power into healing spells. Soon Ratnik was back in the fight, three Minotaurs were caught in a web and the tide turned. The party had been horribly mauled by their first encounter and retreated to the city of Khare to lick their wounds.
In Khare Chuck scrounged some healing scrolls from the curators of the library which served as Dunethain's temple.
The second venture saw Milgo’s scouting and as soon as he heard the lowing of Minotaurs he let fly with a devastating fireball into the darkness. The burning Minotaurs fled in panic, setting off a crossbow trap. Those not killed by the trap had their throats slit.
The parties own dark elf assessed the trap and determined it was of Drow manufacture. He retrieved a number of bolts from the device then decided to leave what lay beyond the traps protection alone. As far as he knew the trap marked the beginning of Drow territory.
The group turned north as Milgos recalled a tale of a dragon lairing in that direction. The northern tunnels where part of an abandoned mine. Many of the tunnels looked dangerously unstable with one collapsing before their eyes.
Shrieking fungus sounded the alarm in a fungus covered chamber. Lizard like rooster creatures raced in to investigate. Chuck hurled a mine cart into the chamber disrupting a patch of yellow mold at a critical moment slaying two of the monsters.
Past the abandoned mines and fungus the group found a snake temple. In a pillared hall a huge constrictor attacked them and at one point swallowed Ratnik. The henchman was spared the indignity of dying in a snake’s stomach as the party eviscerated the creature. Chuck was so incensed at the snakes audacity for swallowing one of the Dunethain's favoured that he hacked off the head of the beast, Conan style!
An ominous pair of double doors was discovered beyond which the party suspect lairs the dragon. The dragon they hunt had defeated the party very early on in their careers, though Ugh is the only character to have survived that initial encounter. The band retreated to plan their next move.

Snakes often get chopped in the head

Just another Snake Cult

A Google+ Hangout game is not the same as a face to face game. It’s not as real. There is no pizza, no clatter of dice and less ‘table talk’ as you try and cram as much game as you can into 2 to 3 hours. The stakes aren’t the same and so you can be forgiven for not taking it seriously. Milgos the mage/thief, a long standing PC, nearly perished in combat with a Dragon when he was reduced to just ‘attacking’ as the Sri Lankan’s closed in on Australia’s total. Milgos has a potent wand and an arsenal of spells all of which were forgotten as the excitement of a close finish in the cricket overcame the excitement of a combat with a dragon.

Events from the last game included:

Encountering a camp of Goblins who had moved into the vacated Mountain Troll halls and scaring them off with the old Ring of Invisibility + booming voice trick.
Joining forces with a band of ‘rogues’ whom I based on the group in Jule’s fortnightly Dragon Age game. This gave them enough character to allay suspicion. Which was just as well as the group were happy to recruit them to assist in the battle with the Dragon.
A temple to Yig the father of serpents was searched. A fiendish trap was outwitted and the Cobra Codex liberated. The priest Chuck contemplated destroying the relics of Yig but reconsidered and during a particularly hectic and desperate battle reluctantly called on Yig to send serpents to aid him.
A wall of crystals was bludgeoned and a Dragon, in the guise of an elf confronted them. While in elf form the Dragon was ambushed and pummeled badly. Losing the initiative, his carefully laid plan fell apart and he reverted to dragon form and began the killing.
The rogues turned on the party and were revealed to be Dopplegangers causing Chuck to cry “WHAT FOUL BETRAYAL IS THIS?” The monsters teamed with the Dragon and looked to be on the verge of destroying the party. A single Dragon can be isolated and worn down quickly, in this situation he lasted a turn or two longer.
Milgos was saved from the Dragon’s bite by his Cloak of Displacement. This has proven to be a very potent item.
Milgos was reduced to muttering “I attack” when the battle hung in the balance. Chuck was surrounded by Dopplegangers and one good hit from dying. Betty had been felled by acid breath. Chuck’s henchman was running and Milgos chose to stand toe to toe with a Dragon and simply swing his swords? Fortunately Milgos snapped out of his cricket induced befuddlement and used his Wand of Frost to snap freeze first the Dragon and then a Doppleganger. The tide had turned.
The Dragon fell unconscious once bested as it had taken some subdual damage while ambushed in elf form. Milgos stabbed the incapacitated beast in the eye ending the scheming creatures life. With the Dragon defeated much treasure was gained.

The Dragon's lair was guarded by a wall of crystals

Killer Shrews and the Temple of the Toad

Citadel Miniatures - Dwarf Lords of Legend

Verbeeg - Like cows to the slaughter

Saved Sorcerers and Apologetic Acolytes

Enlandrin's Folly

THE MAW

Someone left a clue in this bin

Hackfest or when things go wrong!

Against the Mountain Trolls

Caverns of Ekim the Lawful

Negotiating in bad faith

Call of Cthulhu is a nifty game

Continuity and the Cthulhu Campaign

The Fane of St Toad

Oldhammer - Warhammer Fantasy Battle 3rd Edition - Orcs verse Chaos

SETUP AND DEPLOYMENT

TURN 1

TURN 2

TURN 3

TURN 4

TURN 5

TURN 6

B2 - Quick play Caves of Chaos

Caves of Chaos, burning oil and how we roll.

Nostalgia, Cave Demons and Sorcery!

Minotaur smack-down and a choice - Drow or Dragon?

Sri Lanka narrowly avoids killing party