Khan's Report: Drums in the Marsh - Part 1

[Vacaria Brotherhood] - D&D Expeditions: Drums in the Marsh

Were I to make a joke D&D-themed and it would start like this: two Harpers, two evil-looking warlocks, and two rogues walk into a bar...

Well, I'm not much of a joker, but let me tell you about my last D&D session... This is EXACTLY how it happened!

When the brainiacs at WoTC decided to promote the D&D Encounters (and Expeditions) as a support to D&D's 5th Edition they weren't exactly pushing us into a conundrum. I mean, it's easy to calculate the odds of having six complete strangers walk into a public game having totally incompatible characters!

Is it possible to have both Harpers and Zhentarim in the same party? Check!

Is it possible to have neutral good dwarven clerics and shady warlocks with imps as familiars? Check!

So, yeah, my neutral good dwarven HARPER cleric decided that his ZHENTARIM tiefling comrade-in-arms was simply a guy wearing a kabuki mask, and that his evil-as-fuck devilish IMP was... just an exotic bird!

Otherwise I would need years of therapy in order to understand why exactly we were banding together. You know, because, TIEFLING ZHENTARIM WARLOCKS WITH IMPS AS FAMILIARS are usually what HARPER DWARVEN GOOD CLERICS hunt in the campaign! So forget about any MINOR INCONSISTENCIES in all of this...

So, there you have our starting point for the "Drums in the Marsh" quest. And, yes, we were walking into a bar...

And the reason we were doing it was to search for the missing Best Man for our friend Gilthanas' marriage. A gnome named Archibald something-something-something yet-more-something XIV apparently disappeared while travelling to Phlan. We headed towards an inn in the middle of the road, where we were told that "Archie" had been there, but decided to go into the marsh to investigate the strange drums that sound in the night, and its link to several missing persons from the farmsteads nearby.

This farm boy comes to us in shock, having just returned from the farm belonging to the old couple he works for, finding it attacked, and with the old folks missing.

We take the ferry and rush upriver to the farmstead. On arrival, we observe that the doors were blasted, there were signs of claws on the floor, and marks of cattle being driven out of the farm.

So, do we decide to run after the assailants while the marks are fresh? Well, no...

"Hey guys, look! There's a pouch with 15 gp above the table. It must be the old folks’ savings. Well, let's just steal it..."

This is one of those moments where you can do one of two things:

a) Forget about your character's personality and simply ignore anything roleplay related;

b) Stay in-character and go against five other players, thus earning their hatred both in-character and out-of-character.

Well, with almost 20 years of roleplay over my shoulders this wasn't going to be the first time I'd break character just to gain popularity points. Therefore, Sergeant Khan put his most judging stare over his beard and claimed: NON!

45 minutes later they were still trying to convince me that we were entitled to the pouch because the old folks were probably dead. After much debate the thieving bastards ended up agreeing to give me the coins for safekeeping until the farmers' destiny became known.

My gut feeling was so right about my esteemed companions that as soon as we started the session I told the DM: I'm gonna leave my money (200 gp) entrusted to the Harpers' bank before we leave town..." 

Jumping into a barge we sailed upstream, but not before another 45 minutes were lost deciding who was going to row...

*Sigh*... Next time I'm bringing a pony...

 Yes, that is a pig inside the barge.

Suddenly, LIZARD MEN! Rising from the waters and throwing nets from the margins. Eldricht blasts, and spears, and arrows, and everything, shooting everywhere. Yay, it's HAMMER TIME! I swing my warhammer... and the die rolls below 4. More eldricht blasts, more arrows, more hits and bumps! I swing my warhammer... and the die rolls below 4. Some comrades get poisoned from the lizards' blowguns, and I don't have enough spells to cure them all. But since it is not lethal, and wears off after one hour, I swing my warhammer... and the die rolls below 4.

Humm... I'm starting to notice a peculiar consistency with my warhammer.

My fellow Harper is put unconscious and dragged by two lizards through the reeds. They would get away with him, if not for my providential guiding bolt shot from inside the barge in the middle of the river. Yes, you can say it: I'm totally awesome. After smoking one of them, they got scared and ran away.

Nightfall was upon us and we needed to rest. Both warlocks said "oh, it's cool, our familiars can stand watch". The tiefling tells his imp to stand watch, and the answer he gets (in Infernal) is something along the line of "sod off". The tiefling throws a stick at the imp. The imp catches the stick and bashes the tiefling in the head with it. Confused, my dwarf watches the entire scene thinking "hmmmm, what an interesting relationship the kabuki masked guy has with his exotic bird..."

We jump into the barge once again, and this time it only takes 38 minutes to decide who would pick up the oars.

A few miles later a giant pinkish tentacle-like thing sprouts out of nowhere and grabs the female warlock.

Prepare yourselves, hentai time is about to start.

We dock the ferry in the right margin and start attacking a half-hidden giant toad. That is when the OTHER giant toad on the LEFT margin decides to "tentacle-grab me" and pull me near him. Oh, this is gonna be great... The other five guys are on the other side, and I have this friendly giant toad all to myself. No problem! I start swinging my hammer... and the die rolls below 4. I scream, and shout, and let it all out, swing my hammer again... and the die rolls below 4.

Showing some solidarity, one of the other players tells me: Well, that die is cursed. Here, try rolling this one.

At this point you are all already guessing what did happen. That's right. I rolled a 1. The toad swallowed my warhammer.

...

...

Yeeeah, around this time I'm pretty much thinking I should've stayed home combing my beard. Eventually, the toad is blown by an eldritch blast from the kabuki dude, and now comes the epic scene: I grab my warhammer midair, turn around, decide to spend the "inspiration" I had gained previously, and unleash a thunderous guiding bolt straight at the other toad across the river! The evil marsh batrachian gets toasted, and one of the other players just kicks him dead.

Never mind combing the beard, this dwarf IS GAME!!!!

(to be continued)

Riga’s Log: The Mad Baroness

[Divine Flame]

Baccardi Riga The Third (gnome illusionist), Gilthanas Sunblade (half-elf paladin), Klin (half-elf druid), Malak (half-orc rogue)

Here, have a half-orc

Since the bastard DM continues to refuse to offer us a three meter high statue of Sune covered in rubies and draped in red silk, our temple has to survive with illusory images of the goddess, provided by the greatest magician in all of Neverwinter’s sphere of influence. That’ll be me.

One of our team mates had to move from Lisbon to Madrid (ciao Marco!), so this session we had a new player join the party. Thus, Malak, a half-orc, received a warm welcoming to The Divine Flame… with the paladin spitting on the floor and saying something along the line of “I hate your filthy race. Get away from me.”

As my favorite bard Freddie Mercury used to sing: “Friends will be friends”…

Putting things in perspective, I’m now surrounded by two HALF-elves and one HALF-orc, thus making me the only FULL MAN in the group. That clearly makes me party leader.

The damsel in distress

Malak had been selected by the town mayor to accompany us to the neighbor town of Leilon, where we should meet Baroness Helena d’Tabbart, whom had written him worried with “enemies hidden in the shadows”.

Being the town elections in five months, I’m suspicious that this is just a maneuver from the bastard DM to send me away from Phandalin, thus benefitting his candidate, the inept Mayor Harbin. But, alas!, I’m a hero, and as the bards of Waterdeep usually sing: there’s a damsel in distress, she goes by the title of baroness, Riga’s on the way to clean the mess, so keep calm and have no stress, for this gnome was born to impress! BOOYAH! Shaggadelic, baby!

Hu-Hum! Sorry, I got a little carried away. I blame it on Gilthanas’ bagpipes.

Anyway, our band of merry men (more appropriately, HALF men) arrives in Leilon. We head towards Tabbart Mansion, where we find the baron on his horse posing for a painter. Immediately we rename him Baron Harkonnen, albeit the DM’s attempts to make us embrace his real name. He tells us the baroness is rather ill, and will soon be taken to Lathander’s temple (I’m pretty sure the bastard DM already gave the Lathanderites a gigantic marble statue with diamonds and platinum…). She won’t be able to receive us before the next morning. We say our goodbyes to Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, and I immediately focus on the most important thing in the mission: I go talk to the painter and try to commission him a portrait of myself. But, proving once again that the bastard DM hates me, he only has time to do so in one year. WHAT? I’m having an election in five months! Bah!

While Malak roams the city’s slums looking for information about the baroness, I go with the two half-elves searching for sculptors and painters. But we only find THIEVES! Eight thousand gold pieces for the statues and portraits? Do these bastards believe they belong to Michellangelo’s School or something?

Hello, I’m a priest. BOOM! Headshot!

Come next morning we head once again to the mansion. I combine an Unseen Servant spell with some Minor Illusion, and walk the streets with a floating ghost beside me presenting myself to the populace. This is good P.R., and all propaganda is welcome if it benefits the future mayor of Phandalin.

We are taken to the baroness’s scriptorium, and along the way I lay my eyes on a particular painting of “The Battle of the Cliffs”. What’s peculiar about it is that all the heroes portrayed are gnomes! I write down the artist’s name: Ipe. I have to say that I particularly enjoy his interpretation of events.

Baroness Helena is clearly disturbed and “drained”, but she doesn’t seem to be crazy. She insists that Baron Harkonnen isn’t really her husband, but someone pretending to be him. Before we have the time to extend our conversation a quartet of priests of Lathander enters the room, announcing they are here to take the baroness to the temple. She gets despaired and refuses to go, shouting she never agreed with that.

We tell the head priest he can’t force her to go, and he replies by putting a crossbow bolt to the paladin’s face. Combat ensues, with one of the now-evidently-false priests hitting the baroness, and almost killing her. The druid, in bear form, makes short work of the assailants, while the half-orc rolls under a table shooting a bolt under my legs, and rolling a critical against the guy hitting the coiling woman. This filthy scum tries to escape jumping out of a window, but my gnome jumps to the window and incinerates him with a Fire Bolt.

The surviving assailant runs out of the room but is immediately caught by the guards, who in turn storm the scriptorium ordering us to lay down our weapons and stand still. But wait: now comes the fun part! I’m still with my ghost-butler floating around, so he keeps majestically presenting me to each guard that enters the room, which is hilarious, and makes me more famous than Taylor Swift.

Captain Colgate and the Goblin Goblet

We are detained for questioning by a guy named Captain Colgate. Well, ok, his name wasn’t actually Colgate, but it sounded a lot like Corellon (patron god of elves), so we rebranded him.

Captain Colgate seemed genuinely concerned with the attack and decided to trust us. So, he gave us what they found in the escapee’s pockets: a triple figurine of platinum, and a pouch with the initials “G.G.”.

IT’S GARY FREAKING GYGAX!!!!! The guy who invented D&D is responsible for the attempt on the baroness’s life! Hum? What? The pouch has an image of a GOBLIN drinking from a GOBLET? There goes my brilliant conspiracy thesis…

It’s time again to hit the slums, but since we’re having some trust issues with Malak we decide to take the entire party. Both he and the druid look like bums, so no one will notice them, but a flamboyant gnome (with a pompous ghost butler) and a paladin of Sune? Relax, everything is under control. I’m an illusionist, so I can look however I want. As to Gilthanas, he has a kabuki theatre kit, so he loads himself with lots of makeup and disguises himself as a bum.

With a few coins, a few mugs of ale, and a lot of BULLSHIT, we discover that the Goblin’s Goblet is a secret gambling house run by a band that goes by the name Leilon’s Bashers where few are allowed to enter.

The hanging

Baron Harkonnen seems rather hurried to get rid of the sole survivor, taking him to be hanged in the main square. In a desperate attempt to gain some information about the culprit behind the attack, I cast a Message spell that allows me to speak mentally with him. The idea was to take advantage of the shock he was going through in order to make him talk, but the dice decide that my persuasion isn’t good enough.

Well, it seems our only chance lies in the Goblin’s Goblet. What’s our plan once we get there? We have absolutely no clue, but apparently goblin beer is a thing, so that’s where we’re heading!

Campaign Highlights “The Pendants of Tor-Logos” – Sessions 11 to 20

Having reached its 20^th session, here are the highlights (sessions 11-20) of our “The Pendants of Tor-Logos” campaign. The original, in Portuguese, is in the campaign website: link

The English version was done with some “fast translation” via Google Translate, therefore its quality may be slightly diminished.

Enjoy!

(click to enlarge)

The Scroll Thief – D&D 5 @ LisboaCon 2015

The 5th Annual Encounter of Portuguese Roleplayers, integrated in LisboaCon 2015, brought the famed Vacaria Brotherhood to hunt "The Scroll Thief" (D&D 5 Expedition).

The present report may contain (trust me, it does!) language inappropriate for halfling and gnomes under 150 years.

Stolen Books and Irritating Svirfneblins

So, the intrepid heroes of Phlan - Harper Dwarf Cleric KHAN, Emerald Enclave Ranger SASHA, Zhentarim Fighter/Rogue ANDREZEEL, and Descendant of Asterix's Bard LANZA - were once again summoned to aid Mantor's Library. After reencountering the broom-wielding pain-in-the-ass svirfneblin that shouts at every Harper for "dirtying the floor", The Vacaria Brotherhood met Emma Brandywine, a crazy halfling lady scribe (which smeared everything with ink). Apparently, three books had been stolen from different people associated with the Library (immediately we could tell that we were roleplaying in a fantasy world - quite probably the only place where someone is interested in books...).

After passing a Will save to avoid STOMPING the goddamned svirfneblin with me olde dwarven boots, we headed towards the book proprietors.

Mischievous Bookkeepers and Gladiators

The first on the list was Arya, whose book "The Weave" had been stolen. The book talked about “something arcana” and THE POOL OF RADIANCE being some kind of focus for enhancing magic. Our genius bard (INT 8) decided to investigate the bookshelf, where he found some runes. He decided to investigate the runes REALLY CLOSE. Yes, something went KABOOM, and he gained a new hairstyle. At least it was useful: Arya discovered that someone had messed with the runes. Hummm, at that moment me dwarven nose started sniffing something fishy, and it wasn't the cursed svirfneblin. Arya was withholding information from us! I teamed with the ranger's wolf and rolled a gazillion in intimidation, forcing her to reveal that, beside the book, a Horn of Blasting and a set of magical scrolls were also stolen.

Second on the list was a brother dwarf, named Martin, who had a fighting school. He had a volume from the collection of "Ren’s Memories", telling about the glorious fight of Ren and the dragon Tyrantraxus in... The Pool of Radiance! Martin also gave us a list locating some other volumes stored in the Library.

Lastly, we visited Ajin Lammarck (possibly related to the guy that wrote about giraffes' necks?) who was missing a book titled "Lords and Lineages of Phlan". Hummm, again I noticed something fishy in the air. Again it wasn't the svirfneblin. Again I intimidated the guy. Woohoo, me dwarf is gaining a reputation of badass. So, the lying bastard had altered the pages of the book in order to claim nobility to his family. The shock! The outrage! The infamy! Truth must be defended! Or we can simply get bribed and forget about it. With 60 gp, a carpet, and the promise of 10 platinum pieces if we return the book, we left the house with our silence.

No, dear reader, your eyes didn't deceive you. We brought the guy's carpet with us. Hey, it was a large Persian-like carpet! I'm sure it is worth a fortune! But since we forgot to sell it afterwards, let us take a moment to remember that we spent the rest of the adventure walking around with a HUGE PERSIAN CARPET ON OUR SHOULDERS. Forget about Vacaria Brotherhood, henceforth we are The Keepers of the Rug!

Enter Soares

If there was any doubt that the Portuguese had colonized Faerûn, it was dismissed the moment a guy named Soares jumped in front of us (the DM swore it was the official name in the Expedition document). He identified himself as belonging to "The Whisperers", the local thieves' guild. His boss (promptly named Aníbal - only Portuguese will understand) wanted a word with us. Well, ok, we followed the guy, still carrying our carpet, and... AMBUSH! Three halflings jump out of trash bins and - coordinated by Soares, who gets rid of his elf disguise - attack us.

Soooo, let us take another moment to interiorize the present scene: four guys are walking around the city carrying a large Persian carpet, suddenly the dude in front of them removes his prosthetic elven ears, and a trio of halflings jumps out of trash bins for an ambush. Can things get a little loonier? I don't know, maybe the bard could start swinging a pair of maracas and sing "La Cucaracha"?

With everybody dancing the Macarena, we make short work of Soares and his trio of mariachis. There was a note in his pocket ordering him to "deal with us", and signed E.B.

E. B.? Who the hell is E. B.?

Eva Braun?

Emma Bunton (a.k.a. Baby Spice)?

Eric Bana?

Or... could it be EMMA BRANDYWINE!!!!!

Ooooh, the plot thickens, and by now me dwarven nose smells a list of suspects:

- Arya and Ajin (both of them could be involved in some scheme, and both were lying to us)

- Emma Brandywine (although far-fetched, her initials correspond to the incriminating note, and it had ink stains)

- The Svirfneblin (I want him to be on the list, just because)

- Andrezeel (the guy is a Zhentarim, for Mystra's sake!!! He already stole a Ring of Fire Resistance!!)

- Eva Braun (hey, the bitch and Hitler could have faked suicide and fled to Faerûn!)

The Chase and The Horn of Blasting

Returning to the Library we discover that two scribes are missing: Garda Greenleaf and Elisson Berenguer. Yes, the most perceptive of you have noticed that one of them has E. B. in the name. Damn, me dwarven heart was betting in the svirfneblin.

A brief visit to the quarters of E. B. reveals him to be part of the Cult of the Dragon. Remembering the location of the additional volumes of Ren’s history, we chase him insanely until floor minus 15 of the Library (boy, is this thing huge). YES, WE STILL HAVE THE CARPET!!! I’M NOT LETTING GO OF THE CARPET FOR ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD!

We find the body of Garda, and two of the missing books (the first and the second), but with several pages missing. We hunt the bastard. He plays the Horn of Blasting. Everything collapses. We’re not dead! Pilled with rubble, but still breathing, AND HOLDING TO THE DAMNED CARPET! We run. The chase is on. This is intense. Big room. Five wraiths! Damn, no magical weapons! We hit! We bash! We zap! The dog dies. Sorry, it was a wolf. There’s a chest with a “something made of bone that fits in a head” inside. The bard is an idiot. He picks the thing, and places it on the head!!!! SUSPENSE! Everything stops! Incoming mini-heart attack! The DM announces it is a Headband of Intellect, thus moving the bard’s intelligence from 8 to 19.

WHAT?!?!?!?!!? WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU-----WHAT!?!?!!?!?!?!? WE’RE GONNA KILL THE DM!!!!

No time! Must chase E. B.! BOOM. Explosion. Smells like Sulphur. How do we know, none of us is a wizard? Doesn’t matter! The chase is on again! Almost catching the guy. Sunlight. The guy is running away in a horse.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU#$#$#%#%@$%&#$$K!!!!!!!

That moment you go into a swamp and receive a wedding invitation

Unable to catch the bad guy, we investigate the stuff he left behind. There’s a map with an X. And a letter telling E. B. to meet Ritnax. We start laughing. Why the hell does the name have DRAGON WRITTEN ALL OVER IT?!?!?!!?

We head to the swamp, and… the Black Knight from Monty Python is impeding the crossing of the bridge. Well, ok, not the guy from Monty Python, but our acquaintance Gilthanas, bagpiper extraordinaire. He’s getting married with the girl from previous session, which so happens to be a gold dragon. We are all invited to the wedding. Great! Me dwarf happens to know a great trio of mariachi halflings…

We continue to the swamp with Scarlet father’s blessing (I’m just going to mention, casually, that he is the Avatar of Bahamut).

SWAMP! We catch up with Elisson, who is extenuated. All is well when it ends well. Oh, look, there’s a dragon behind you. SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Wait, it’s not a dragon! It’s a cute little, tiny, baby youngling dragon. He even has a cute Hello Kitty backpack, as if he’s just returning from school! Aaawwwwww… Then he opens his mouth and does 5d8 acid damage. SCHEISSE! Not so cute anymore.

The dragon is not alone. Lizardmen, coming out of the lair. Wait, there’s more: the lair has special rules! The swamp starts FARTING, and me olde dwarf gets thrown to the floor. There’s darkness, and me olde dwarf gets blinded. There’s a swarm of insects coming out of the lair, and me dwarves’ beard gets full of bugs! STOP IT, YOU BASTARD DM!!! I’M STARTING TO HATE YOU EVEN MORE THAN THE GUY WITH THE BROOM! THERE’S NO WAY YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME DROP THE FUCKING CARPET, OK!!!???? JUST GIVE UP!

Eventually we end up killing all the lizardmen, and the dragon flies away. We capture Elisson, and the Zhent wants to receive the award by delivering him to the authorities. But I’m a neutral good Harper, and I know it means death for the guy, who shows signs of repenting being associated with the Cult of the Dragon. I manage to convince the rest of the party to deliver him to Scarlet’s father, placing him in custody of the Church of Bahamut. Great, now I’m on the hit list of the Zhentarim…

Final Thoughts

This was a great session. I had lots of fun and we managed to have great roleplaying moments. Probably this was an Expedition more appropriate for a “non-convention” environment, since it required much attention to details, investigation, and gathering puzzle pieces. With more noise coming from other tables, and me having to pause once or twice to “say hi” to some friends, a lot of the “feel” may have been lost. But, otherwise, you would never have experienced THE CARPET!

Congratulations to the DM who has been guiding Vacaria Brotherhood through all these hilarious adventures, and to all the marvelous people involved in coordinating the Portuguese Roleplayers National Encounter, which is getting more intense each year, and with record participants.

P.S. I’m placing a unique Persian carpet on e-Bay, in case anyone’s interested…

D&D 5 – It’s Raining Dragons

The Courting of Fire – Parte 2

(Para ver o que se passou na primeira parte: link)

O antipático DM que tem assumido as rédeas das sessões da Irmandade da Vacaria fez bem ao lembrar no início da sessão a "Batalha de Lepanto". Quando derrotado pela frota do Papa Pio V, o Grão-Vizir do Império Otomano terá dito que a derrota era meramente o equivalente a cortarem-lhes as barbas, pois estas voltariam a crescer. Foi com esta moral que o heróico Khan Bleedingaxe deixou para trás o fatídico episódio com os elfos-turcos da Darksong Forest. Com isto, e com uma mascarilha ao estilo bandido do Velho Oeste em redor do rosto, feita a partir dos trapos de um pano com o símbolo dos Harpers.

Ice, Ice, Baby

À saída da floresta - coincidência das coincidências! - damos de caras com Lanza (bardo) e Sasha (ranger), que obviamente não estavam perdidos numa qualquer floresta no meio das montanhas...

Pouco tempo houve para festejos, porque logo de seguida deparamos com «A Vaca» presa num bloco de gelo, junto a um simpático dragão fêmea que respondia pelo nome Aneska. Alas!, a pérfida Anushka (pessoalmente prefiro tratá-la assim, de forma bastante menos ameaçadora) ameaça-nos de morte se não lhe trouxermos o artefacto escondido na caverna do Circle of Scales.

Corajosamente, e sem qualquer hesitação, o muy bravo e heróico Lanza diz-lhe imediatamente que sim.

É encorajador uma pessoa saber-se rodeada de intrépidos camaradas, que não vacilam perante as adversidades...

F@#$ING KOBOLDS!!!!

Chegados a um templo em ruínas, Andrezeel verifica que este está repleto de kobolds. Toda a gente pega nas suas armas de longo alcance, e desata a disparar. Esperem! Toda a gente? Não, pois o glorioso Khan vem armado - ao bom estilo anão - com um martelo de batalha e um machado. E então, no meio de flechas e dardos de besta, Khan irrompe pelo campo de batalha soltando um grito de guerra. E, cumprindo a tradição, antes de dar dois passos está estatelado no meio do chão, rodeado de kobolds, e a sonhar com anãs roliças com barbas perfumadas.

Braaaaaains

Por baixo do templo encontram uma câmara, decorada com motivos alusivos aos dragões, cheia de zombies. Finalmente, após tantas e tantas e tantas horas de martírio, plasmadas em 1100 pontos de XP acumulados, eis que o meu clérigo anão Harper prova finalmente servir para alguma coisa! Bendito turn undead, que consegue manter boa parte daquela bicharada controlada.

A charmosa violinista Scarlet tenta armar-se em Lara Croft, fazendo piruetas enquanto dispara as suas hand crossbows, e estatelando-se estrondosamente em cima de um altar cerimonial. Tento convencer o DM a meter uma múmia debaixo do altar, mas o tipo é antipático e não liga patavina às minhas brilhantes sugestões. Scarlet tenta recompor-se, fazendo nova cambalhota no ar para cima do segundo altar cerimonial. Estatela-se novamente no meio do chão. Hummm, de repente começo a pensar que o meu anão desbarbado não faz assim tão má figura.

Trick or Treat

Havendo uma porta de metal na câmara, eu e o Lanza fazemo-nos passar por bandidos enviados por Teebem, em busca de Spernick. Somos actores fabulosos, dignos de um Óscar, mas o pérfido DM não nos abre a porta. Se ele tivesse seguido a minha sugestão da múmia, neste momento podíamos tê-la usado como aríete. Em vez disso, usamos um dos NPC Harpers que estoira com a porta usando o seu Greataxe.

Mais porrada, mais kobolds, o Spernick é um maldito clérigo que faz inflict wounds. O Lanza cai ao chão, e eu já só tenho um feitiço de cure wounds. Um dos Harpers cai ao chão, e eu já só tenho um feitiço de cure wounds. A Sasha cai ao chão, e eu já só tenho um feitiço de cure wounds. Isto está a correr bem.

Miraculosamente, conseguimos capturar Spernick e evitar perder qualquer membro do grupo.

Em caso de dúvida, mandem o bardo à frente…

A sala onde derrotamos Spernick tem uma estátua de um dragão vermelho. Nos bolsos do sacerdote maléfico encontramos um quarto de uma esfera preta, e outro quarto de uma esfera verde. Andrezeel encontra “algo mais” – um anel de fire resistance!!!!!! – que cordialmente decide ocultar do resto do grupo! MALEDETTO ZHENTARIM! SOLO SCORTICATO VIVO!!!!!

Para completar a esfera faltavam dois quartos da raiz quadrada de duas metades. Havendo quatro salas armadilhadas, fizemos o que tinha lógica: atirámos o bardo para dentro de cada uma das salas! Esquartejado, electrocutado, scorticato vivo, e mais uma data de patifarias, e lá conseguimos reunir os quatro quartos de π r².

Eis que se abre uma porta secreta, e de lá aparece um wraith-something que diz blablablablabla, nobody cares, die, die, die, we want the loot. Morre, atingido por alguns dos meus raios radiantes, e outras coisas. E no interior da sala flamejante… o artefacto! Uma escama de Tiamat!

Soltem os dragões

A senhora violinista começa a armar-se em carraça, e insiste em ficar com a escama. Eu começo a armar-me em carraça, e insisto em levar a escama aos Harpers. O bardo começa a armar-se em carraça, e insiste em entregar a escama à Anushka. Esperem lá, mas o bardo ainda está vivo? Onde é que anda o Zhentarim quando precisamos dele? A Sasha, que até ao momento se manteve neutra na disputa, decide armar-se em carraça, e insiste em levar a escama para o Emerald Enclave (seja lá essa gente quem for). O DM decide armar-se em carraça, e um dos Harpers desata a correr em pânico e a gritar que a Anushka está lá fora.

Mesmo sem barba eu sou um gentleman, e não mato a carraça da Scarlet. Decidimos voltar à superfície “e logo se vê”. Eis senão quando, chegados cá fora, a Scarlet decide transformar-se num COLOSSALMENTE GIGANTESCO GOLD DRAGON e usa o artefacto para fazer panquecas da Anushka.

Contagem final: Harpers vs Zhents vs Emerald Enclave vs Bardo = Empate Técnico

Curtain falls, quero um downtine de duas décadas para que a minha barba volte ao sítio. THE END.

Balanço

Esta foi a Expedition de que menos gostei. A razão é simples: enquanto jogador não gosto de me sentir um mero espectador na história. É perceptível que o grupo nada poderia contra a Anushka, que embora não fosse um great white wyrm certamente faria tiras de bacon com todos nós se em algum momento a decidíssemos enfrentar. E, tanto quanto percebi, não tínhamos hipóteses de sair vivos do esconderijo do Circle of Scales sem ter a Scarlet para activar a escama, depois de se transformar numa ancient gold wyrm. Em suma: nada podíamos contra a Anushka, nada podíamos sem a Scarlet, e provavelmente nunca conseguiríamos ficar com a escama para tentar explorá-la de alguma forma para a história da campanha.

Fica um sabor agridoce, porque foram dois episódios onde foi notório o sacrifício do grupo, e o esforço que foi necessário para conseguirmos sair dali todos com vida, e no fim fica a sensação que pouco teve a ver connosco, e que saímos dali com cento e poucas moedas de ouro, que ainda por cima mal pagam as healing potions que tivemos que usar.

Session II.21 – Parental Advisory. Explicit Content. May Contain Succubi. (YES, PLEASE!!!)

My players are the luckiest bastards in the world. Why? Well, because they have an awesome DM! And no "perception" check or "sense motive" will tell you otherwise.

Last session made it quite clear that if the baby the succubus is carrying is given birth, everything will drastically change in the campaign. I expected some moral discussion among the players, but I was pretty sure that in the end they would end up killing the demon-mommy and the demon-baby. It would only be a matter of "how" and "when"...

You should never interrupt your nemesis when he's in the middle of "doing the hanky-panky"

Being the succubus resting in McKymera Castle, one of two approaches was to be expected: the party could decide to go through the front door and try to expose the situation (although a highly unlikely scenario, the paladin could insist on doing that), or they could infiltrate the walls via stealth and invisibility.

They could have used scry on the target, placed themselves invisible, and teleport to the location, catching the enemies by surprise. But they are great guys, and they know I hate that kind of thing because it ruins any roleplay attempt.

So, when they announced "we're going to teleport to some small bedchambers inside the castle, not usually occupied"... The Evil Bastard in me knew that something special had to happen!

Taurus McKymera is known to be a boisterous Conan-like guy that enjoys having concubines satiate his XXX desires. Therefore, when Thorkron triggered the teleport, the party surprised Taurus in the middle of… THE HANKY-PANKY TIME!

Yup... nothing beats EPIC as having your nemesis flee along the castle dressed only in his moustache and goatie!

Copycat, copycat, copy-copy-copy, copycat

Like a Magician, a Dungeon Master isn't supposed to reveal his secrets. But, since I'm not getting paid to do this... I'M GONNA TELL YOU EVERYTHING!

Among the enemies I had prepared for the clash with the party was Antares, whose origins are linked to a background idea from one of the players (although with a few twists). I didn't want the battle to be a single scene with the group versus ten thousand stat blocks, so I had no idea when Antares (a lesser demon) would make its premiere. I wanted to stall the group a little bit (to give Taurus enough time to get properly dressed), so I threw the demon I had picked to portray Antares, a Kalavakus, from Pathfinder Bestiary 2. Needless to say that, when you have a fucking PA-LA-DIN in the group, you don't pick the enemies reasonably... YOU GO STRAIGHT FOR THE BIGGEST MUTHAFUCKING MONSTER IN THE BOOK AND MULTIPLY ITS HIT POINTS BY A GAZILLION! AND THEN ADD 25% MORE!

The thrice-damned paladin goes for 240 damage in a single round, and my jaw drops... Ok, think fast: how do you go from complete fail to total awesome in 10 seconds? Well, you keep the demon's head talking after being severed, laughing maniacally, and announcing that "Antares is like the hydra: cut one head and two more appear". And - PUFF! - there you have two more identical copies of the demon walking on air!

Nevermind that... the bastard paladin just goes for another 230+ damage round.

I REALLY am going to banish paladins from play FOREVER!

At least it was an unexpected turn of events, resulting in a good scene, and the name Antares now has an ubber demonic aura around it.

I just need to open the book and choose a CR20 baddie to throw at the paladin next session...

Humm… maybe I’ll prepare two baddies, just in case…

The hunt for the succubus continues next session!

P.S. I REALLY hate paladins...

Session Chronicle and Epilogue (Portuguese): link