The companions reached the top of the small hill at a run, the dry ground crunching beneath their feet. Only a pair of small prickly scrub trees and a few rocks
"I thought we were done with them!" Allianora complained.
"Seems not" Feris replied, keeping his head down.
"We're sitting flumphs here" Nimble warned as he notched an arrow. "We need more substantial cover, and fast."
"It would be better if we could get out of here" Rathgar noted as he took aim at another of the desert orcs with his bow.
"Well I'm tapped out. I haven't had a chance to study my spell book for days!"
"I don't want to die here." Nimble said through gritted teeth, sending one of his last arrows at the orcs.
"Allianora, now might be a good time to pray." Rathgar said quietly before shooting his last arrow.
The orcs began to stalk up the hill when the tree behind them began to shake.
"I am not pleased!" came a dry voice from the tree. Dropping out of its branches a nearly naked, dirt covered man. He turned and pricked his finger upon one of the sharp spines on the tree. It's branches with shocking speed began to spread out around the top of the hill. "Now that you have your cover, I hope you have a plan.
Zareba (Ring of Thorns)
3rd level druid spell
Range: 30'
Duration: 1 hour per level
Effect: grows a ring of thorn bushes around caster
This spell causes local bushes to explosively grow in a ring around the caster. The size of the interior of the ring can be up to 5'/level. The wall will be 10' tall and 1' thick/level. Anyone attempting to pass through the wall will take 1d4 damage per foot of thickness. This spell can only be cast if there is a thorn bush/tree within the range of the spell, and will cause the plant to die at the end of the spell's duration.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Ylem
“I told you it wasn’t a good idea.” Feris chided.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Rathgar replied with exasperation.
“Sure, but in the process you got a blade through your gut, and I had to waste that bottle of ylem on you.”
“Waste?”
“Yes! Waste! Do you have any idea what I could have done with that? What it was worth?”
“It was sparkling sludge.”
“It was the very stuff of creation!” Feris all but screamed “Unformed matter, contained energy, pure liquid magic! And I had to use it to put your intestines back into your gut! All because you had to go toe to toe with an orc! A stupid, dirty savage orc that cheated! I could have lobbed a fireball at them, but nooooo... you had to show that you could pound his face into the sand. Well job well done. You sure showed them!”
“I was trying to keep the rest of you safe by-”
“NO!” Feris finally lost it. “NO YOU WERE NOT!” You were once again putting yourself into a situation where you could show off. You put yourself in a position where we couldn’t help you. Do it again, and we’re done.
“Feris, listen I-”
“No Rathgar, you listen to me. Do it again, and I’m gone. Do you understand?”
Rathgar looked Feris in the eyes. “Sure... I get it.”
“One more time Rathgar and I’m going.”
Ylem
Appearing as a thick white liquid that sparkles all of the colors of the rainbow (and then some) this substance is incredibly rare and potent. It can be used to make anything, heal just about any injury, or to add enchantment to something already in existence. However using it is tricky. Depending on the complexity of the desired outcome the character must make a minimum of 3 saving throws vs spells to manipulate the ylem. Making between 50-75% of the saves will result in success, but with complications. Over 75% and it’s a complete success. Between 25-50% and the result is wildly different than intended. Under 25% will result in something harmful, and 0% will result in a catastrophic failure.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Rathgar replied with exasperation.
“Sure, but in the process you got a blade through your gut, and I had to waste that bottle of ylem on you.”
“Waste?”
“Yes! Waste! Do you have any idea what I could have done with that? What it was worth?”
“It was sparkling sludge.”
“It was the very stuff of creation!” Feris all but screamed “Unformed matter, contained energy, pure liquid magic! And I had to use it to put your intestines back into your gut! All because you had to go toe to toe with an orc! A stupid, dirty savage orc that cheated! I could have lobbed a fireball at them, but nooooo... you had to show that you could pound his face into the sand. Well job well done. You sure showed them!”
“I was trying to keep the rest of you safe by-”
“NO!” Feris finally lost it. “NO YOU WERE NOT!” You were once again putting yourself into a situation where you could show off. You put yourself in a position where we couldn’t help you. Do it again, and we’re done.
“Feris, listen I-”
“No Rathgar, you listen to me. Do it again, and I’m gone. Do you understand?”
Rathgar looked Feris in the eyes. “Sure... I get it.”
“One more time Rathgar and I’m going.”
Ylem
Appearing as a thick white liquid that sparkles all of the colors of the rainbow (and then some) this substance is incredibly rare and potent. It can be used to make anything, heal just about any injury, or to add enchantment to something already in existence. However using it is tricky. Depending on the complexity of the desired outcome the character must make a minimum of 3 saving throws vs spells to manipulate the ylem. Making between 50-75% of the saves will result in success, but with complications. Over 75% and it’s a complete success. Between 25-50% and the result is wildly different than intended. Under 25% will result in something harmful, and 0% will result in a catastrophic failure.
xiphoid xenomorph
“They’ve been dogging our trail for the last couple of hours. Can’t we just do something about them?” Nimble asked.
“We need to keep moving. If they want to follow us, they can.” Feris urged.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Nimble.” Allianora said with a frown. “We don’t know what mischief they’ll get up to when we finally camp.”
“I’ll handle this.” Rathgar grunted
“You can’t take them all on.”
“I don’t need to.” Rathgar reigned in his horse, and wheeled it around. “Oi!” He yelled out “You pink bellied sons of elves! Skulking in shadows like worms! Show yourselves!”
For a long moment nothing happened. Then from behind some rocks stepped a group of 8 desert orcs. Their green skin tough and leathery, with little of the bulk that their kind usually show. Instead they were tall, wiry, nearly naked, but covered in tattoos and piercings.
“We’re passing through, and unless you want trouble you’re not going to bother us!” Rathgar continued.
The largest of them stepped a little closer. “We’re more than you” it growled out. “You tired, you hot, you weak. Why let you pass?”
“Because I’ll pound your face into the sand, that’s why.”
The orc appraised Rathgar, then turned and passed his spear and steel dirk to another of his tribe. “Then do so.” he said stepping forward.
Rathgar dismounted, disarmed, and shimmied out of his chainmail shirt. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You know what happened last time you tried this.”
“Yeah, but these are desert orcs.”
“So?”
“They’re not all that interested in random killing.”
The orc champion stood waiting. He rolled his head side to side, and cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Rathgar walked right up to him, and looked him in the eye. They stared at each other, and the moments stretched on. They began to move simultaneously, kicks, punches, pushes, grabs. After several moments Rathgar landed a blow that knocked the orc off of his feet.
Something from the opposing group caught her eye. One of the orcs was holding some sort of amulet and moving his lips. “Rathgar! Be careful, there’s a caster!”
The orc champion pushed himself up and as he brought his fist back it began to morph very quickly. The fist flattened and elongated, and the skin peeled back and the bone stretched out into a barbed sword-like blade.
xiphoid xenomorph
2nd level shaman spell
Range: 5’ per caster level
Duration: 1 round per caster level
Effect: one individual
This spell causes a target’s arm to morph into a blade that can be used as a sword appropriate for the creature (i.e. goblins-shortsword, humans normal sword, ogres 2h sword). Every successful hit will do the type of damage appropriate for the creature, and also cause 1 point of constitution damage.
This transformation causes 2 points of Constitution damage which can be healed at a rate of 1 point per day of rest.
“We need to keep moving. If they want to follow us, they can.” Feris urged.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Nimble.” Allianora said with a frown. “We don’t know what mischief they’ll get up to when we finally camp.”
“I’ll handle this.” Rathgar grunted
“You can’t take them all on.”
“I don’t need to.” Rathgar reigned in his horse, and wheeled it around. “Oi!” He yelled out “You pink bellied sons of elves! Skulking in shadows like worms! Show yourselves!”
For a long moment nothing happened. Then from behind some rocks stepped a group of 8 desert orcs. Their green skin tough and leathery, with little of the bulk that their kind usually show. Instead they were tall, wiry, nearly naked, but covered in tattoos and piercings.
“We’re passing through, and unless you want trouble you’re not going to bother us!” Rathgar continued.
The largest of them stepped a little closer. “We’re more than you” it growled out. “You tired, you hot, you weak. Why let you pass?”
“Because I’ll pound your face into the sand, that’s why.”
The orc appraised Rathgar, then turned and passed his spear and steel dirk to another of his tribe. “Then do so.” he said stepping forward.
Rathgar dismounted, disarmed, and shimmied out of his chainmail shirt. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You know what happened last time you tried this.”
“Yeah, but these are desert orcs.”
“So?”
“They’re not all that interested in random killing.”
The orc champion stood waiting. He rolled his head side to side, and cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Rathgar walked right up to him, and looked him in the eye. They stared at each other, and the moments stretched on. They began to move simultaneously, kicks, punches, pushes, grabs. After several moments Rathgar landed a blow that knocked the orc off of his feet.
Something from the opposing group caught her eye. One of the orcs was holding some sort of amulet and moving his lips. “Rathgar! Be careful, there’s a caster!”
The orc champion pushed himself up and as he brought his fist back it began to morph very quickly. The fist flattened and elongated, and the skin peeled back and the bone stretched out into a barbed sword-like blade.
xiphoid xenomorph
2nd level shaman spell
Range: 5’ per caster level
Duration: 1 round per caster level
Effect: one individual
This spell causes a target’s arm to morph into a blade that can be used as a sword appropriate for the creature (i.e. goblins-shortsword, humans normal sword, ogres 2h sword). Every successful hit will do the type of damage appropriate for the creature, and also cause 1 point of constitution damage.
This transformation causes 2 points of Constitution damage which can be healed at a rate of 1 point per day of rest.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wergild
Rathgar paused for dramatic effect "She said 'You killed my sister' and brought her hand out from behind her back. In it she held an ornate long dagger 'with this very blade. You took her. You despoiled her, and when you were done, you plunged this into her chest.' The robber-baron laughed at the slip of the girl before him. 'Guards! Take this waif to my chambers. It's only fitting that she share the same fate as her sister.' The guards went to take her, but none could lay a hand upon her. She weaved and dodged like none I'd seen before. Even better than Nimble!"
"Hey!" Nimble jeered from the bar.
Smiling, Rathgar continued "I was in no position to help her, though I wanted to. I was yoked and chained to a pillar in the hall. I could see it all happen, but I couldn't do a damn thing. But how she moved! There was a lot of yelling, then screaming as she slipped among them, cutting as she went with the dagger that killed her sister. It wasn't long before the robber-baron himself decided to stop her himself. Unarmed he stepped toward her, and caught her by the wrist as she tried to thrust the dagger into his chest. 'I'm going to kill you, and you can't stop me.' she spat at him. He just laughed and twisted her arm up, pulling her in close. With the dagger blade between there faces he whispered something to her, I didn't hear what it was. Her face became cold, the anger drained out of it, and she shot her free hand straight into his neck. His head snapped back, and he dropped her as he fell to his knees."
The tavern patrons were completely focused on Rathgar. Nimble looked around the room, sizing up targets. Feris put his hand on Nimble's wrist. "Don't" he whispered "We come here too often."
"The robber-baron coughed and blinked away tears in time to see the flash of the blade as she plunged it into his eye. Unfortunately one of the guards chose that moment to stab her with his spear. In the resulting confusion a fellow prisoner released me, and we got away with a little to show for it. I still have one thing I took before we left." Rathgar then drew the dagger from his boot and held it up for all to see.
Wergild
This magical blade contains a natural but temporary enchantment. The possibility of enchantment begins when a blade is used to murder in cold blood. If that blade is then taken up while the blood of the victim is still wet upon it, and an oath of revenge is sworn, the blade may become the fated instrument of that revenge. As long as the blade is in the oath-swearer's hand it will gain a +3 bonus to all attacks, and +6 against the target of the revenge. In addition it will grant the wielder a +3 bonus to AC, and if within 50' of the target it will reduce by half any damage taken. Upon the death of the target most of the power of the dagger will drain away, leaving it a +1 dagger.
"Hey!" Nimble jeered from the bar.
Smiling, Rathgar continued "I was in no position to help her, though I wanted to. I was yoked and chained to a pillar in the hall. I could see it all happen, but I couldn't do a damn thing. But how she moved! There was a lot of yelling, then screaming as she slipped among them, cutting as she went with the dagger that killed her sister. It wasn't long before the robber-baron himself decided to stop her himself. Unarmed he stepped toward her, and caught her by the wrist as she tried to thrust the dagger into his chest. 'I'm going to kill you, and you can't stop me.' she spat at him. He just laughed and twisted her arm up, pulling her in close. With the dagger blade between there faces he whispered something to her, I didn't hear what it was. Her face became cold, the anger drained out of it, and she shot her free hand straight into his neck. His head snapped back, and he dropped her as he fell to his knees."
The tavern patrons were completely focused on Rathgar. Nimble looked around the room, sizing up targets. Feris put his hand on Nimble's wrist. "Don't" he whispered "We come here too often."
"The robber-baron coughed and blinked away tears in time to see the flash of the blade as she plunged it into his eye. Unfortunately one of the guards chose that moment to stab her with his spear. In the resulting confusion a fellow prisoner released me, and we got away with a little to show for it. I still have one thing I took before we left." Rathgar then drew the dagger from his boot and held it up for all to see.
Wergild
This magical blade contains a natural but temporary enchantment. The possibility of enchantment begins when a blade is used to murder in cold blood. If that blade is then taken up while the blood of the victim is still wet upon it, and an oath of revenge is sworn, the blade may become the fated instrument of that revenge. As long as the blade is in the oath-swearer's hand it will gain a +3 bonus to all attacks, and +6 against the target of the revenge. In addition it will grant the wielder a +3 bonus to AC, and if within 50' of the target it will reduce by half any damage taken. Upon the death of the target most of the power of the dagger will drain away, leaving it a +1 dagger.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Violence's Violet Veil
Allianora sat with Sita Hatun Sultana in the comfortably dark and cool tavern. The relaxed atmosphere was further enhanced by the fact that the staff and patrons were all female. Added to that were the opened (and emptied) bottles of spring wine that the pair had shared as the heat of the desert sun baked the world beyond the tavern door.
"They kept me gagged initially, with my arm bound behind me. Not really very fair, since at that point I only had the one. Eventually they started using an enchantment to help keep me passive. I'm still not entirely sure what it was they wanted from me, aside from my arm, but they took great pains to make sure I remained alive. They never interrogated me, never even really spoke to me, and by the end I would only ever see them once a day, if that. By that point they didn’t really need to do much since I was so en-spelled.”
“I’m glad we got you out of there.”
“Yes, as am I.. but there was one good thing that came out of it.”
Allianora looked questioningly at her.
“While their magic did a very good job at keeping me passive, it allowed me to really focus, and by the time you rescued me, I’d managed to almost completely figure out the spell they were using on me. Over this last week, I have finished it. In fact I cast it when we entered the tavern.”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
“That’s because your thoughts don’t tend toward violence, and nothing here is encouraging it!”
Violence's Violet Veil
3nd level magic-user spell
Range: 5’ per caster level
Duration: 10 minutes per caster level
Effect: Creates a zone where causing violence is difficult
When cast, this spell creates a zone within which it is difficult to engage in any violent activity. The zone created will be 5’ in diameter/level of the caster. Anyone attempting to engage in a violent activity must make a saving throw vs spells or remain non-violent for 1 round/caster level. This will not prevent individuals from taking defensive actions.
The spell will also cause the air in the area of effect to take on a slightly purple tinge, allowing individuals to know when they have left the area of the spell’s effect.
"They kept me gagged initially, with my arm bound behind me. Not really very fair, since at that point I only had the one. Eventually they started using an enchantment to help keep me passive. I'm still not entirely sure what it was they wanted from me, aside from my arm, but they took great pains to make sure I remained alive. They never interrogated me, never even really spoke to me, and by the end I would only ever see them once a day, if that. By that point they didn’t really need to do much since I was so en-spelled.”
“I’m glad we got you out of there.”
“Yes, as am I.. but there was one good thing that came out of it.”
Allianora looked questioningly at her.
“While their magic did a very good job at keeping me passive, it allowed me to really focus, and by the time you rescued me, I’d managed to almost completely figure out the spell they were using on me. Over this last week, I have finished it. In fact I cast it when we entered the tavern.”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
“That’s because your thoughts don’t tend toward violence, and nothing here is encouraging it!”
Violence's Violet Veil
3nd level magic-user spell
Range: 5’ per caster level
Duration: 10 minutes per caster level
Effect: Creates a zone where causing violence is difficult
When cast, this spell creates a zone within which it is difficult to engage in any violent activity. The zone created will be 5’ in diameter/level of the caster. Anyone attempting to engage in a violent activity must make a saving throw vs spells or remain non-violent for 1 round/caster level. This will not prevent individuals from taking defensive actions.
The spell will also cause the air in the area of effect to take on a slightly purple tinge, allowing individuals to know when they have left the area of the spell’s effect.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Umbrella of the Unknown Man
Nimble blinked at the empty alley. Mere moments before there was a blue shed and a strange man, and now, just the wet cold empty alley that he’d passed through an hour or two ago. Nimble shivered as a big raindrop slipped under his collar and down his neck. Lifting the black umbrella, Nimble opened it up, protecting him from further drops down his shirt. Pulling the umbrella down low over his head he headed back toward his companions.
The rain began to fall in heavy sheets, and the rumble of thunder rolled through the city. In a blinding flash of light Nimble found himself flat on his back in a very cold puddle, his hand still clutching the umbrella. The ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing the laughing of a figure that floated down from the darkness above.
His smile was framed by a dark well trimmed beard and cold hard eyes. His tasteful and expensive robes remained dry in spite of the driving rain. His lips moved, but Nimble still couldn’t hear anything. The wizard’s smile lessened, and he mouthed with exaggerated emphasis “Where is he?”
“Where’s Who?” Nimble yelled.
The wizard nodded his head yes and mouthed something else that Nimble didn’t catch. Pushing himself out of the puddle, Nimble stood, and shook his head. Stealthily he drew a dagger, and as he seemed to adjust himself, tossed it at the wizard. The blade froze in mid-air, the tip a mere inch from his throat. “Frelling wizards...” Nimble swore.
The well dressed man stretched out his hand and a bolt of lightning shot out from his fingertips. Nimble reflexively dropped the umbrella to shield him from the bolt, and while he again was knocked down to the ground, he remained unhurt, and the umbrella intact. “Fancy that...” Picking himself again off the ground he took a quick look at the wizard, and then bolted down a side alley.
Umbrella of the Unknown Man
This simple black umbrella will protect its bearer and anyone under or behind its shield from any and all electrical damage. The umbrella is large enough to shield up to 3 people, if they huddle tightly together.
The rain began to fall in heavy sheets, and the rumble of thunder rolled through the city. In a blinding flash of light Nimble found himself flat on his back in a very cold puddle, his hand still clutching the umbrella. The ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing the laughing of a figure that floated down from the darkness above.
His smile was framed by a dark well trimmed beard and cold hard eyes. His tasteful and expensive robes remained dry in spite of the driving rain. His lips moved, but Nimble still couldn’t hear anything. The wizard’s smile lessened, and he mouthed with exaggerated emphasis “Where is he?”
“Where’s Who?” Nimble yelled.
The wizard nodded his head yes and mouthed something else that Nimble didn’t catch. Pushing himself out of the puddle, Nimble stood, and shook his head. Stealthily he drew a dagger, and as he seemed to adjust himself, tossed it at the wizard. The blade froze in mid-air, the tip a mere inch from his throat. “Frelling wizards...” Nimble swore.
The well dressed man stretched out his hand and a bolt of lightning shot out from his fingertips. Nimble reflexively dropped the umbrella to shield him from the bolt, and while he again was knocked down to the ground, he remained unhurt, and the umbrella intact. “Fancy that...” Picking himself again off the ground he took a quick look at the wizard, and then bolted down a side alley.
Umbrella of the Unknown Man
This simple black umbrella will protect its bearer and anyone under or behind its shield from any and all electrical damage. The umbrella is large enough to shield up to 3 people, if they huddle tightly together.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Tesseracting Automated Reality Inter-Dimensional System (TARIDS)
Nimble slunk through the dark alley, retracing his steps after a successful scout. When he returned with Rathgar in an hour or two they’d show the “Shadow-King” that messing in his hometown was a bad idea.
Rounding a corner, Nimble came upon a blue wooden shed that had not been there before.
“Well hello there.” Stepping out of the shed was a man in a large brown coat, an odd hat, and a very long scarf. Held out before him was a silver wand. “This... doesn’t look like Cardiff.”
Nimble’s eyes remained on the tip of the wand. “I’ve... never heard of Cardiff.”
Seeming to realize Nimble’s worry over the wand, the gentleman tucked it into his pocket and stepped out into the alley. “It’s probably no where near here. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He then turned and examined his shed. Once again withdrawing his wand, he pointed it at a panel, which promptly popped open revealing numerous blinking lights. “Well, that’s wrong... and that shouldn’t have worked like that...” He stuck the tip of the wand into the open panel, causing both sparks and a variety of weird noises. “Hmmm...”
He turned and looked at Nimble “You wouldn’t happen to have a bit of copper on you, would you?”
Nimble pulled out a copper piece and passed it to the strange wizard before realizing what he’d just done.
“Thanks!” he turned back to the panel, inserted the wand with the coin, causing more sparks and a new noise. “There. That should do it.” Pocketing the wand he again turned toward Nimble. “Now then, I must be off. I shouldn’t be here anyway. Inter-dimensional, cross-genre contamination is always something to avoid, unless you’re sure what you’re doing, or don’t care!”
A crack of thunder rumbled overhead. “Yes, definitely time to be going. However, since you were helpful, allow me to help you out.” Opening his shed he reached in and pulled out a black umbrella and handed it to Nimble “Keep dry!”
With that he stepped inside, and closed the door. A blue light flashed on top of the shed, followed by a whooshing noise, and then it was gone.
Tesseracting Automated Reality Inter-Dimensional System (TARIDS)
This blue shed appears to be made of wood, about 10’ tall, and 5’ wide. Each side appears to be nearly identical to the others, except for the door. In spite of its appearance, the interior of the shed is massive. While it can be used for a nearly infinite storage closet, it’s true use is to travel existence. It is however very difficult to control. Without a lifetime of training, every attempt to direct its destination requires a saving throw vs. Dragon’s Breath at a -4 penalty. Failure will result in arriving at a time and location of the DM’s choosing.
Additionally, the use of a TARIDS will eventually draw the attention of numerous foes of the original manufacturers of the devices and their past users.
Rounding a corner, Nimble came upon a blue wooden shed that had not been there before.
“Well hello there.” Stepping out of the shed was a man in a large brown coat, an odd hat, and a very long scarf. Held out before him was a silver wand. “This... doesn’t look like Cardiff.”
Nimble’s eyes remained on the tip of the wand. “I’ve... never heard of Cardiff.”
Seeming to realize Nimble’s worry over the wand, the gentleman tucked it into his pocket and stepped out into the alley. “It’s probably no where near here. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He then turned and examined his shed. Once again withdrawing his wand, he pointed it at a panel, which promptly popped open revealing numerous blinking lights. “Well, that’s wrong... and that shouldn’t have worked like that...” He stuck the tip of the wand into the open panel, causing both sparks and a variety of weird noises. “Hmmm...”
He turned and looked at Nimble “You wouldn’t happen to have a bit of copper on you, would you?”
Nimble pulled out a copper piece and passed it to the strange wizard before realizing what he’d just done.
“Thanks!” he turned back to the panel, inserted the wand with the coin, causing more sparks and a new noise. “There. That should do it.” Pocketing the wand he again turned toward Nimble. “Now then, I must be off. I shouldn’t be here anyway. Inter-dimensional, cross-genre contamination is always something to avoid, unless you’re sure what you’re doing, or don’t care!”
A crack of thunder rumbled overhead. “Yes, definitely time to be going. However, since you were helpful, allow me to help you out.” Opening his shed he reached in and pulled out a black umbrella and handed it to Nimble “Keep dry!”
With that he stepped inside, and closed the door. A blue light flashed on top of the shed, followed by a whooshing noise, and then it was gone.
Tesseracting Automated Reality Inter-Dimensional System (TARIDS)
This blue shed appears to be made of wood, about 10’ tall, and 5’ wide. Each side appears to be nearly identical to the others, except for the door. In spite of its appearance, the interior of the shed is massive. While it can be used for a nearly infinite storage closet, it’s true use is to travel existence. It is however very difficult to control. Without a lifetime of training, every attempt to direct its destination requires a saving throw vs. Dragon’s Breath at a -4 penalty. Failure will result in arriving at a time and location of the DM’s choosing.
Additionally, the use of a TARIDS will eventually draw the attention of numerous foes of the original manufacturers of the devices and their past users.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Strategist's Sandbox
“That’s not going to work. My ogres will smash through that stake line too easily.” Rathgar pointed out.
“Dren it.” Nimble sighed and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. Looking down upon the figures, he shifted some archers around the walls of the keep. “That should take care of them. Especially if I pre-soak that area with oil.”
“That’ll use up a lot of your supplies.” Rathgar warned.
“True, but I should have support arriving within the week.”
“Do you feel like you can count on it?”
Nimble paused before answering, trying to read his friend’s face. “Maybe. Maybe not. However, I don’t think I can hold that line otherwise.”
“Let’s find out...” Rathgar activated the table, and the battle played itself out.
Strategist's Sandbox
This magical table will create any battlefield and troops in miniature and allow generals (or would-be generals) to try play out different scenarios. The use of this item at least once a week will provide generals with a minor to moderate bonus to the resolution of any battle they find themselves leading.
“Dren it.” Nimble sighed and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. Looking down upon the figures, he shifted some archers around the walls of the keep. “That should take care of them. Especially if I pre-soak that area with oil.”
“That’ll use up a lot of your supplies.” Rathgar warned.
“True, but I should have support arriving within the week.”
“Do you feel like you can count on it?”
Nimble paused before answering, trying to read his friend’s face. “Maybe. Maybe not. However, I don’t think I can hold that line otherwise.”
“Let’s find out...” Rathgar activated the table, and the battle played itself out.
Strategist's Sandbox
This magical table will create any battlefield and troops in miniature and allow generals (or would-be generals) to try play out different scenarios. The use of this item at least once a week will provide generals with a minor to moderate bonus to the resolution of any battle they find themselves leading.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Radiant Raiment
Lifting open the lid of the chest revealed carefully packed bundles. Nimble checked each over before touching any of them while his companions occupied themselves with a variety of tasks. Rathgar was just outside the door in the dungeon hall keeping an ear out. Feris was boiling up some broth for everyone, while Allianora patched up a tear in her chainmail.
“Ok” Nimble said finally. Everyone’s attention was instantly focused on the large chest. “I’m pretty sure it’s safe.”
Carefully opening the first bundle in the chest, Nimble revealed a large golden sunburst “Oh... Allianora said.
The next bundle was opened, revealing more gold, this time in the form of various sun-themed jewelry and ornaments. The last bundle contained white robes.
“Gentlemen, I believe I will have to lay claim to these.”
“But-” Rathgar’s hand on Nimble’s shoulder ended the objection.
After their rest, Allianora donned the godly attire, and lead her companions past the great double doors with the Danse Macabre and into the Quiet Halls. The golden sunburst framed her head like a halo, and she seemed to glow with divine power.
“Is it really a good idea to be glowing like a frelling beacon down here?” Nimble whispered to Feris as they trailed behind.
Radiant Raiment
The appearance of these vestments varies by faith, but they all provide similar benefits. Anyone of the faith wearing these robes will be under the effects of a constant Protection from Evil, Light 15’, and a magical +3 bonus to AC. In addition the wearer will be able to Turn Undead as a level 2 cleric. If the character is already a cleric, they will turn undead as if 3 levels higher.
It is impossible to wear any armor with the robes, or to cover/disguise them with mundane or magical means.
If worn by someone of a different faith, it will have no magical powers at all. If worn by someone of an opposing faith they will suffer the effects of a Curse spell as if cast by a level 20 caster.
“Ok” Nimble said finally. Everyone’s attention was instantly focused on the large chest. “I’m pretty sure it’s safe.”
Carefully opening the first bundle in the chest, Nimble revealed a large golden sunburst “Oh... Allianora said.
The next bundle was opened, revealing more gold, this time in the form of various sun-themed jewelry and ornaments. The last bundle contained white robes.
“Gentlemen, I believe I will have to lay claim to these.”
“But-” Rathgar’s hand on Nimble’s shoulder ended the objection.
After their rest, Allianora donned the godly attire, and lead her companions past the great double doors with the Danse Macabre and into the Quiet Halls. The golden sunburst framed her head like a halo, and she seemed to glow with divine power.
“Is it really a good idea to be glowing like a frelling beacon down here?” Nimble whispered to Feris as they trailed behind.
Radiant Raiment
The appearance of these vestments varies by faith, but they all provide similar benefits. Anyone of the faith wearing these robes will be under the effects of a constant Protection from Evil, Light 15’, and a magical +3 bonus to AC. In addition the wearer will be able to Turn Undead as a level 2 cleric. If the character is already a cleric, they will turn undead as if 3 levels higher.
It is impossible to wear any armor with the robes, or to cover/disguise them with mundane or magical means.
If worn by someone of a different faith, it will have no magical powers at all. If worn by someone of an opposing faith they will suffer the effects of a Curse spell as if cast by a level 20 caster.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Quarrel of Quarreling
“AHHHH! Frelling orcs!” Feris cried out as a black arrow slammed into his thigh, and he dropped to the ground in agony.
“It’s not my fault!” Nimble lamented.
“Oh just shut up and shoot them would you?” Rathgar snarled from behind a tree.
“Rathgar shut up. I can’t deal with this,” Allianora twisted the arrow slightly causing Feris to again cry out in pain “if you keep braying like a rabid dog!”
“It’s not my fault!” Nimble repeated.
The orcs began chanting something that sounded like “Skra-Tay, Skra-Tay”
“Feris, do you know what they’re saying” Rathgar asked.
Allianora shoved the arrow through Feris’ leg, causing him to pass out. “Shut up!” She yelled at Rathgar. Several more bolts flew by, embedding themselves into the surrounding trees.
“It’s really not my fault! How was I supposed to know that the chief would take so poorly to my pointing out that his war banner had a kitten on it?” Nimble asked.
The roar of a sabre toothed tiger put an end to all questions about the kitten.
Quarrel of Quarreling
This item can take the form of an arrow or a crossbow bolt, but only becomes active then it draws blood. On a successful hit with this arrow, the wounded individual and all within 10’ must make a save vs spells every round or be unable to take their usual actions and instead will argue with those around them. This will not prevent them from defending themselves, but they will not be able to attack. The effect lasts for a number of rounds equal to the points of damage caused by the missile. They can be enchanted with an additional +1 to +4 to hit and damage
“It’s not my fault!” Nimble lamented.
“Oh just shut up and shoot them would you?” Rathgar snarled from behind a tree.
“Rathgar shut up. I can’t deal with this,” Allianora twisted the arrow slightly causing Feris to again cry out in pain “if you keep braying like a rabid dog!”
“It’s not my fault!” Nimble repeated.
The orcs began chanting something that sounded like “Skra-Tay, Skra-Tay”
“Feris, do you know what they’re saying” Rathgar asked.
Allianora shoved the arrow through Feris’ leg, causing him to pass out. “Shut up!” She yelled at Rathgar. Several more bolts flew by, embedding themselves into the surrounding trees.
“It’s really not my fault! How was I supposed to know that the chief would take so poorly to my pointing out that his war banner had a kitten on it?” Nimble asked.
The roar of a sabre toothed tiger put an end to all questions about the kitten.
Quarrel of Quarreling
This item can take the form of an arrow or a crossbow bolt, but only becomes active then it draws blood. On a successful hit with this arrow, the wounded individual and all within 10’ must make a save vs spells every round or be unable to take their usual actions and instead will argue with those around them. This will not prevent them from defending themselves, but they will not be able to attack. The effect lasts for a number of rounds equal to the points of damage caused by the missile. They can be enchanted with an additional +1 to +4 to hit and damage
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Pawn of Prophecy
“Don’t take anything. It’s almost all cursed, and we don’t have time to figure out what isn’t” Feris reminded his friends. The adventurers crept cautiously around piles of treasure. Everything from stacks of coins and gems, boxes full of jewels, statues, rich fabrics, and more. Up ahead the gremlin sat tossing coins into the air and letting them rain down on its head, apparently unaware of the party’s approach. Nimble held the net ready to toss at the creature.
“I’ll distract him, you get him” Rathgar whispered before shifting off to the side.
Allianora held her mace ready, with an unusual gleeful expression. The fact that half of her hair was missing probably had something to do with it, Feris decided.
Rathgar made his move, in this case by knocking over a large pile of hand bells. The gremlin leapt to its feet, looking at the ringing crash. Nimble tossed the net, and the creature was quickly entangled.
“Yes!” Allianora said, rushing up the the creature, the mace held ready to subdue it.
Feris looked over to Rathgar, who was holding something small in his hand. “What’s that?”
“There was a chess board in that pile, and this guy rolled against my foot. I think... I think it’s lucky.”
Pawn of Prophecy
The Pawn of Prophecy appears to be a normal, if expensive chessman, carved of ivory on an ebony base. Anyone possessing the Pawn will automatically understand the boon that it can grant. As the user wishes it can grant a natural +1 to any roll. This may be used an unlimited number of times per day.
What the user does not automatically know is that for every use, it will incur a -1 penalty to the next roll of the DM’s choosing. If the player uses the pawn 5 times, the DM may combine the penalty into a single roll.
“I’ll distract him, you get him” Rathgar whispered before shifting off to the side.
Allianora held her mace ready, with an unusual gleeful expression. The fact that half of her hair was missing probably had something to do with it, Feris decided.
Rathgar made his move, in this case by knocking over a large pile of hand bells. The gremlin leapt to its feet, looking at the ringing crash. Nimble tossed the net, and the creature was quickly entangled.
“Yes!” Allianora said, rushing up the the creature, the mace held ready to subdue it.
Feris looked over to Rathgar, who was holding something small in his hand. “What’s that?”
“There was a chess board in that pile, and this guy rolled against my foot. I think... I think it’s lucky.”
Pawn of Prophecy
The Pawn of Prophecy appears to be a normal, if expensive chessman, carved of ivory on an ebony base. Anyone possessing the Pawn will automatically understand the boon that it can grant. As the user wishes it can grant a natural +1 to any roll. This may be used an unlimited number of times per day.
What the user does not automatically know is that for every use, it will incur a -1 penalty to the next roll of the DM’s choosing. If the player uses the pawn 5 times, the DM may combine the penalty into a single roll.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Ordi's Ocular Optimizer
“Owww....”
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, just fine. You?”
“Grand. Nothing like a pit trap to remind me how much I hate dwarves.”
The two elves disentangled themselves and looked around. The hole they found themselves in was made of worked stone, was a mere 10 feet square, and very deep. The flickering torchlight did not reach the top of the pit. Picking up the torch the elves noticed a body curled into the corner. It was a dead human in black and mustard clothing. His only adornment was a gold band across his eyes.
The elf not holding the torch took the band from the body and examined it. “Why would he have had this on his face?”
“Probably how he came to fall in the pit. The stupid human couldn’t see where he was going!”
“Maybe it’s magical?”
“Try it on.”
The elf slipped the band over his eyes, then cried out, dropping it to the ground and clasping his hands over his face.
“Ryl’tar?”
“Lloth preserve me... I’m blind...”
Hours later Ryl’tar sat in total darkness. His foot tapped something, and he reached down to feel what it was. The gold band. Turning it over in his hands, he again put it up to his eyes.
“There’s a way out!”
“How would you know? You’re blind!”
“Yes, but with this, I can see different than you, better in some ways. And I can see that there is a passageway through this wall. I just can’t see how to open it, and unless we can figure it out, we’re stuck here.”
“Your gold band didn’t do him any good” the dark elf said, pointing at the desiccated body curled in the corner.
“Maybe” replied the blind elf “but judging by the broken leg he suffered, probably in the fall, he wasn’t in any condition to try to get out.”
Ordi's Ocular Optimizer
This item appears to be a band of gold and silver that is molded to fit over the eyes of a medium sized humanoid. The outward portion is decorated with very fine abstract etchings. Anyone attempting to wear this item must make a saving throw vs. dragons breath or go blind. Passing the saving throw will result in 1d4 points of damage, and render a character unable to use this item. If the character is already blind, no saving throw is required, and the character will be able to automatically use the item.
Wearing the item will allow the character the ability to see in total darkness, however the character can only ever see in black and white. In addition it will allow the character to detect traps and secret passages on a roll of 2 or better on a d6. However the constant visual input will cause the wearer to suffer a -1 to all attack rolls and to armor class.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, just fine. You?”
“Grand. Nothing like a pit trap to remind me how much I hate dwarves.”
The two elves disentangled themselves and looked around. The hole they found themselves in was made of worked stone, was a mere 10 feet square, and very deep. The flickering torchlight did not reach the top of the pit. Picking up the torch the elves noticed a body curled into the corner. It was a dead human in black and mustard clothing. His only adornment was a gold band across his eyes.
The elf not holding the torch took the band from the body and examined it. “Why would he have had this on his face?”
“Probably how he came to fall in the pit. The stupid human couldn’t see where he was going!”
“Maybe it’s magical?”
“Try it on.”
The elf slipped the band over his eyes, then cried out, dropping it to the ground and clasping his hands over his face.
“Ryl’tar?”
“Lloth preserve me... I’m blind...”
Hours later Ryl’tar sat in total darkness. His foot tapped something, and he reached down to feel what it was. The gold band. Turning it over in his hands, he again put it up to his eyes.
“There’s a way out!”
“How would you know? You’re blind!”
“Yes, but with this, I can see different than you, better in some ways. And I can see that there is a passageway through this wall. I just can’t see how to open it, and unless we can figure it out, we’re stuck here.”
“Your gold band didn’t do him any good” the dark elf said, pointing at the desiccated body curled in the corner.
“Maybe” replied the blind elf “but judging by the broken leg he suffered, probably in the fall, he wasn’t in any condition to try to get out.”
Ordi's Ocular Optimizer
This item appears to be a band of gold and silver that is molded to fit over the eyes of a medium sized humanoid. The outward portion is decorated with very fine abstract etchings. Anyone attempting to wear this item must make a saving throw vs. dragons breath or go blind. Passing the saving throw will result in 1d4 points of damage, and render a character unable to use this item. If the character is already blind, no saving throw is required, and the character will be able to automatically use the item.
Wearing the item will allow the character the ability to see in total darkness, however the character can only ever see in black and white. In addition it will allow the character to detect traps and secret passages on a roll of 2 or better on a d6. However the constant visual input will cause the wearer to suffer a -1 to all attack rolls and to armor class.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Nistra’s Nightingale
“Sit here upon the sill, and sing sad songs of the death of kings.” She whispered to the small bird. The little brown bird blinked, cocked its head, and began to whistle, trill and gurgle a soaring song into the night. From the height of the tower the song echoed down the valley, and even in the sleepy village it could be heard clearly. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the people of the village stopped to listen to the sad sweet tune.
Nistra sighed as she stood away from the window. Wrapping her cloak around her she reached for her broom, and lifted into the night. Flying below the clouds, she followed the song down the valley and toward the village. Tonight she would claim her due, and complete her part of the yearly ritual.
The song continued as she landed in the village square. As ever, the people were uncomfortable around her, recoiling as her feet touched the ground. “Wilt thou be gone before the coming day? Hear the nightingale, its song in the dark, that pierces the fearful hollow of thine ear. This night she sings, and her song summons me. I come, now, to accept your sacrifice for the coming year. Bring it forth.”
The village mayor steps forward. “Lady of the Night, Lady of the Moon, Messenger of the Singer of the Sad Song, we welcome you to our home, and give you thanks for the past year. To honor our covenant we present one of our own, given freely. Take this sacrifice...” he stretched his arm out to the side, and looked at the empty space. “Will!” the mayor hissed. A young man, no a boy in a blood red tunic was pushed forward to stand at the mayor’s side. His wide eyes looked at the witch.
The mayor cleared his throat. “Take this sacrifice, and let our bond be renewed with the very blood of this village.” A woman in the crowd began to cry.
“I accept your sacrifice in the name of the singer. Will, step forward.”
With a gentle shove from the mayor the boy stumbled forward. Nistra again mounted her broom. She guided the boy onto the broom in front of her. and with a series of slow, lazy loops rose up into the night.
Landing inside the tower she eased the wildly confused boy off the broom and back onto solid ground. “Come on, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
“Sleeping? You aren’t going to eat me?”
Nistra smiled. “No Will. I’m sure you heard all sorts of stories about what happens to the sacrifice, but I promise you, they are wild, and wrong.”
Nistra’s Nightingale
This little bird is a magical construct that sing a song that can be heard for miles. Anyone hearing the song must make a save vs. spells or will be under the effect of the user’s choosing. Effects are generally shift in attitude/emotion and can include tense, calm, irritated, pleased, etc. Generally the effects tend to be minor shifts toward the desired attitude rather than a sudden and dramatic shift in emotion.
Nistra sighed as she stood away from the window. Wrapping her cloak around her she reached for her broom, and lifted into the night. Flying below the clouds, she followed the song down the valley and toward the village. Tonight she would claim her due, and complete her part of the yearly ritual.
The song continued as she landed in the village square. As ever, the people were uncomfortable around her, recoiling as her feet touched the ground. “Wilt thou be gone before the coming day? Hear the nightingale, its song in the dark, that pierces the fearful hollow of thine ear. This night she sings, and her song summons me. I come, now, to accept your sacrifice for the coming year. Bring it forth.”
The village mayor steps forward. “Lady of the Night, Lady of the Moon, Messenger of the Singer of the Sad Song, we welcome you to our home, and give you thanks for the past year. To honor our covenant we present one of our own, given freely. Take this sacrifice...” he stretched his arm out to the side, and looked at the empty space. “Will!” the mayor hissed. A young man, no a boy in a blood red tunic was pushed forward to stand at the mayor’s side. His wide eyes looked at the witch.
The mayor cleared his throat. “Take this sacrifice, and let our bond be renewed with the very blood of this village.” A woman in the crowd began to cry.
“I accept your sacrifice in the name of the singer. Will, step forward.”
With a gentle shove from the mayor the boy stumbled forward. Nistra again mounted her broom. She guided the boy onto the broom in front of her. and with a series of slow, lazy loops rose up into the night.
Landing inside the tower she eased the wildly confused boy off the broom and back onto solid ground. “Come on, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
“Sleeping? You aren’t going to eat me?”
Nistra smiled. “No Will. I’m sure you heard all sorts of stories about what happens to the sacrifice, but I promise you, they are wild, and wrong.”
Nistra’s Nightingale
This little bird is a magical construct that sing a song that can be heard for miles. Anyone hearing the song must make a save vs. spells or will be under the effect of the user’s choosing. Effects are generally shift in attitude/emotion and can include tense, calm, irritated, pleased, etc. Generally the effects tend to be minor shifts toward the desired attitude rather than a sudden and dramatic shift in emotion.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Boarface & the Snake Museum
On 3/30 Brian Murphy ran Natalie Bennett, Chris F, and I in a Google+ game.
Here's what happened...
“No! I’m done with him, and I’m leaving. After what happened to Sacco, and the nothing he did about it... You can come too, but I’m out of here.” Boarface yelled.
Kaldue was stunned. “Good luck then. Any idea where you’ll go?”
Boarface picked up the bag with his few belongings and told him “I heard there was some woman who spoke to a snake about some monkeys that took over a temple. I figure there’s probably lots of treasure in an old temple, and maybe even some magic” He paused with his hand on the latch. “Take care of yourself. Nick certainly won’t.” then walked out the door.
A few of the bar’s patrons listened with rapt attention as Boarface continued his tail. “So after walking out on my former employer, I followed my lead, which brought me to a podunk village with a dingy inn. “I’m here about the albino monkeys.” I said when I stepped inside.”
“White apes, actually.” The woman who stood before Boarface radiated a barely contained energy, though it didn’t even take a glance to realize that it wasn’t for him. Then again, with a name like ‘Boarface’ it never is. “They’ve taken over the Snake Museum, and St. Serpentor wants it back. I’m Jocelyn. Will you lend your sword to this quest?”
“Does, uh, St. Serpentor reward those who do him favors?” Boarface asked.
“Of course. Richly.” She stated matter-of-factly.
“Then I’ll be glad to help you with your monkey problem.”
“Apes.” She corrected.
“Sure. Has anyone else decided to, uh, help you?”
“Yes, another foreign swordsman, Ivan.”
A little bit later they were on their way.
The domes of the abandoned “Snake Museum” showed no obvious serpent imagery, but it was huge. The main entrance was skipped in favor of a breached wall on one of the smaller domes. The interior was rubble strewn, and an old swollen door offered a way deeper into the ruin. As Jocelyn listened at the door, a green slime began to drip down, just behind her. Ivan and Boarface both jumped back and Boarface tossed the torch he was holding into the middle of the thing. It sizzled, and the slime began to spread away from it and toward Jocelyn. Grabbing one of Ivan’s spare bags of lantern oil, Boarface started spraying both on the slime and the torch, and after using about half the bag the thing was a flaky mess. At this point they noticed a second slime up on the ceiling. They lured it down toward the hole in the wall they used as an entrance and then gave it to a oil and fire bath too.
With some work, the swollen door was forced open, and they crossed a dusty hall to find a large room with over sized iron furniture and an old fountain. Amazingly enough the fountain still had some scuzzy water in it. Within the fountain stood a marble statue on a pedestal of a woman, her outstretched arms each holding a bronze snake. It looked like the snakes were designed to spit the water into the fountain.
They moved on through an open doorway and found themselves in a theater, complete with a stage equipped with a red velvet curtain. Boarface suggested they burn it down, “since it’s the only way to be sure”, but Ivan wanted to know what was behind it. Using his sword to part the curtain, he thwacked something that was apparently hanging on the backside of it. It fell to the floor and scuttled out of sight before anyone got a good look at it. Beyond the curtain was another room, full of old props, costumes, and 3 crates. Within the first crate were what appeared to be priestly regalia for St. Serpentor. Jocelyn tried on the ceremonial helmet, but while it was very impressive it wasn’t functional. The next crate contained a large brass orrery. The final crate contained 3 brass lanterns that looked like they were to be installed in the theater.
While investigating the crates, a spider (presumably the one that Ivan thwacked) attacked. It dropped down on Ivan’s back and attempted to bite him. Somehow between the screaming like a girl, running around in a circle, and flailing like a fish on land, Ivan managed to avoid being bitten, and also managed to destroy his shield... Don’t ask how. Jocelyn and Boarface each managed to land a quick succession of blows that destroyed the eight-legged thing. According to Jocelyn these are nothing compared to the spidergoats she raised on her family's ranch.
Boarface resolved to never visit Jocelyn’s family.
Owing to the bulk of the finds so far the party decided to send Jocelyn back to the village to secure a cart. Turns out that she had to blackmail a cousin to get it. He’d apparently gotten very friendly with a spidergoat.
Never, ever, visit her family.
Returning to collect the crates, another spider was noticed far up on the wall. In an ill-conceived plan, Jocelyn lashed 2 poles together, then attached a torch to the end, then climbed on Ivan’s shoulders. From this precarious position she attempted to knock the spider down. She succeeded, or she got it to leap at her and miss. Then, somehow, she managed to spear it with the torch on the end of the 2 poles, from Ivan’s back. Boarface finished it off, and then the crates were brought to the cart.
Moving back across the hall into the next open doorway brought the party to a ransacked kitchen. Scattered about were various pieces of silverware. They skipped collecting the silver to secure the area. Ignoring the apparently one way metal door they checked out the open doorway. It lead to a twisting passageway, which was followed a short distance before they returned to the kitchen. Boarface gathered the silverware, and also disturbed a snake hiding in the debris. He narrowly avoided a face full of snake-spit. While Boarface was so occupied Jocelyn investigated the metal door and found a very cold room, which was apparently used for food storage. A magical stone created the cold, but they’d get back to it.
They returned to the hallway and headed deeper into the complex, and came upon a larger hall, this one with a set of 6 statues, each apparently representing either St. Serpentor, or perhaps his high priests through the ages? Boarface didn’t look that closely, and Jocelyn didn’t say.
They turned the other way and came to a mural room depicting a burning city, and fleeing snake-people. Boarface had been keeping a rough map on the back of his shield, and there was a gap, so they checked for hidden doors. Ivan found it, and triggered the opening mechanism. Unfortunately he also triggered some sort of poison spray. He fell to the ground convulsing, and foaming at the mouth. In the room beyond was mostly more junk, some spy holes into the kitchen, and a set of potion vials. One of them was anti-venom! This made sense, being a snake museum and all. Ivan stopped foaming at the mouth, but was still out of the fight. So Boarface and Jocelyn loaded him into the cart, quickly gathered the silverware and the magical ball of cold, and headed back to the village.
While Ivan healed up, and Jocelyn attempted to recruit more help, Boarface took the magical sphere to the big city and sold it for a pretty penny.
Here's what happened...
“No! I’m done with him, and I’m leaving. After what happened to Sacco, and the nothing he did about it... You can come too, but I’m out of here.” Boarface yelled.
Kaldue was stunned. “Good luck then. Any idea where you’ll go?”
Boarface picked up the bag with his few belongings and told him “I heard there was some woman who spoke to a snake about some monkeys that took over a temple. I figure there’s probably lots of treasure in an old temple, and maybe even some magic” He paused with his hand on the latch. “Take care of yourself. Nick certainly won’t.” then walked out the door.
A few of the bar’s patrons listened with rapt attention as Boarface continued his tail. “So after walking out on my former employer, I followed my lead, which brought me to a podunk village with a dingy inn. “I’m here about the albino monkeys.” I said when I stepped inside.”
“White apes, actually.” The woman who stood before Boarface radiated a barely contained energy, though it didn’t even take a glance to realize that it wasn’t for him. Then again, with a name like ‘Boarface’ it never is. “They’ve taken over the Snake Museum, and St. Serpentor wants it back. I’m Jocelyn. Will you lend your sword to this quest?”
“Does, uh, St. Serpentor reward those who do him favors?” Boarface asked.
“Of course. Richly.” She stated matter-of-factly.
“Then I’ll be glad to help you with your monkey problem.”
“Apes.” She corrected.
“Sure. Has anyone else decided to, uh, help you?”
“Yes, another foreign swordsman, Ivan.”
A little bit later they were on their way.
The domes of the abandoned “Snake Museum” showed no obvious serpent imagery, but it was huge. The main entrance was skipped in favor of a breached wall on one of the smaller domes. The interior was rubble strewn, and an old swollen door offered a way deeper into the ruin. As Jocelyn listened at the door, a green slime began to drip down, just behind her. Ivan and Boarface both jumped back and Boarface tossed the torch he was holding into the middle of the thing. It sizzled, and the slime began to spread away from it and toward Jocelyn. Grabbing one of Ivan’s spare bags of lantern oil, Boarface started spraying both on the slime and the torch, and after using about half the bag the thing was a flaky mess. At this point they noticed a second slime up on the ceiling. They lured it down toward the hole in the wall they used as an entrance and then gave it to a oil and fire bath too.
With some work, the swollen door was forced open, and they crossed a dusty hall to find a large room with over sized iron furniture and an old fountain. Amazingly enough the fountain still had some scuzzy water in it. Within the fountain stood a marble statue on a pedestal of a woman, her outstretched arms each holding a bronze snake. It looked like the snakes were designed to spit the water into the fountain.
They moved on through an open doorway and found themselves in a theater, complete with a stage equipped with a red velvet curtain. Boarface suggested they burn it down, “since it’s the only way to be sure”, but Ivan wanted to know what was behind it. Using his sword to part the curtain, he thwacked something that was apparently hanging on the backside of it. It fell to the floor and scuttled out of sight before anyone got a good look at it. Beyond the curtain was another room, full of old props, costumes, and 3 crates. Within the first crate were what appeared to be priestly regalia for St. Serpentor. Jocelyn tried on the ceremonial helmet, but while it was very impressive it wasn’t functional. The next crate contained a large brass orrery. The final crate contained 3 brass lanterns that looked like they were to be installed in the theater.
While investigating the crates, a spider (presumably the one that Ivan thwacked) attacked. It dropped down on Ivan’s back and attempted to bite him. Somehow between the screaming like a girl, running around in a circle, and flailing like a fish on land, Ivan managed to avoid being bitten, and also managed to destroy his shield... Don’t ask how. Jocelyn and Boarface each managed to land a quick succession of blows that destroyed the eight-legged thing. According to Jocelyn these are nothing compared to the spidergoats she raised on her family's ranch.
Boarface resolved to never visit Jocelyn’s family.
Owing to the bulk of the finds so far the party decided to send Jocelyn back to the village to secure a cart. Turns out that she had to blackmail a cousin to get it. He’d apparently gotten very friendly with a spidergoat.
Never, ever, visit her family.
Returning to collect the crates, another spider was noticed far up on the wall. In an ill-conceived plan, Jocelyn lashed 2 poles together, then attached a torch to the end, then climbed on Ivan’s shoulders. From this precarious position she attempted to knock the spider down. She succeeded, or she got it to leap at her and miss. Then, somehow, she managed to spear it with the torch on the end of the 2 poles, from Ivan’s back. Boarface finished it off, and then the crates were brought to the cart.
Moving back across the hall into the next open doorway brought the party to a ransacked kitchen. Scattered about were various pieces of silverware. They skipped collecting the silver to secure the area. Ignoring the apparently one way metal door they checked out the open doorway. It lead to a twisting passageway, which was followed a short distance before they returned to the kitchen. Boarface gathered the silverware, and also disturbed a snake hiding in the debris. He narrowly avoided a face full of snake-spit. While Boarface was so occupied Jocelyn investigated the metal door and found a very cold room, which was apparently used for food storage. A magical stone created the cold, but they’d get back to it.
They returned to the hallway and headed deeper into the complex, and came upon a larger hall, this one with a set of 6 statues, each apparently representing either St. Serpentor, or perhaps his high priests through the ages? Boarface didn’t look that closely, and Jocelyn didn’t say.
They turned the other way and came to a mural room depicting a burning city, and fleeing snake-people. Boarface had been keeping a rough map on the back of his shield, and there was a gap, so they checked for hidden doors. Ivan found it, and triggered the opening mechanism. Unfortunately he also triggered some sort of poison spray. He fell to the ground convulsing, and foaming at the mouth. In the room beyond was mostly more junk, some spy holes into the kitchen, and a set of potion vials. One of them was anti-venom! This made sense, being a snake museum and all. Ivan stopped foaming at the mouth, but was still out of the fight. So Boarface and Jocelyn loaded him into the cart, quickly gathered the silverware and the magical ball of cold, and headed back to the village.
While Ivan healed up, and Jocelyn attempted to recruit more help, Boarface took the magical sphere to the big city and sold it for a pretty penny.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Mental Manor
The thunder crashing in the distance seemed to go on continuously out beyond the walls. Flashes of light and color flickered around the edges of the doors and shuttered windows. Feris stood at the top of the stairs, looking down into the main hall of the manor. The stillness, and emptiness of the building stood out sharply against the chaos that rampaged beyond the safety of this shelter.
Exploring deeper into the building Feris discovered strange rooms that contained nothing but the whisper of a memory, as if what was once there left a little something of itself behind. The hint of pictures, of furniture, of life was everywhere, yet none was found.
After an age exploring, Feris came to a door, under which the flickering light of a fire could be seen. Pressing his hand against the door he felt the warmth of life. Turning the handle, Feris pushed the door open. A rich library complete with a fireplace and two green leather wing-backed chairs. Sitting in one was an old man, nearly skeletal with age. He turned and looked at Feris with a lack of surprise or curiosity. “Come. Sit.” he said dryly.
Feris did, and looked at the old man. “Who are you? What is this place?”
“I’m the one you’ve been searching this place for. As for what this place is? It’s my mind” he sighed sadly. “And I’ve been here an awfully long time.”
“Why was I looking for you?”
“Because I know where you can find it.”
“You have to tell me.”
“I do, but I can make you work for it. The answer is here, in this room. As you’ve seen, everything else is gone, and soon I will be too. Even here I’ve become tired, and I’m ready to see what’s really next.”
Feris began searching the shelves, but the books seemed to be in no order at all, and the going was slow. “Can you tell me if I’m close?”
The old man laughed hoarsely. “I could, but I’m not going to.”
The thunder, if it wasn’t constant before, was now, and the whole manor was beginning to shake. Books began to fall from the shelves, and a crashing sound could be heard from somewhere beyond the library door.
“What is that?” Feris yelled over the cacophony.
“That my young friend, is the sound of my mind failing, finally, to the ravages of time... If you would survive, you should leave. Now.”
“But I don’t know where it is!”
A rending noise reverberated through whatever was left of the manor. Feris looked around sadly before turning for the door. Just was he was about to close it behind him, the old man called out “Take this with you” and tossed him a locket.
Feris gasped as he opened his eyes. Turning his head, he saw the now dead body of the old warlock.
Mental Manor
6 level Magic-User Spell
Range: 0 - Caster only
Duration: Special
Effect: Sends the caster's mind into a protective location
Casting this spell will create a shelter within the mind of the caster into which the caster can retreat. The body will go into a state of hibernation, and no external stimulus can impact the mind of the caster.
If multiple magic users cast the spell at the same time and in close physical proximity they can choose to share a single Mental Manor. If cast at a later time they can use it to enter another’s Mental Manor. If caught in another’s Mental Manor when the owner dies, the visitor must make a save vs. dragon’s breath or die. Leaving a Mental Manor takes 2d12 rounds, during which time the caster navigates to the Manor’s door.
The primary benefit to using a Mental Manor is as a last ditch defense against mental attacks. However it also halves the time needed to engage in spell research, so some wizards use it for that purpose on a regular basis.
Exploring deeper into the building Feris discovered strange rooms that contained nothing but the whisper of a memory, as if what was once there left a little something of itself behind. The hint of pictures, of furniture, of life was everywhere, yet none was found.
After an age exploring, Feris came to a door, under which the flickering light of a fire could be seen. Pressing his hand against the door he felt the warmth of life. Turning the handle, Feris pushed the door open. A rich library complete with a fireplace and two green leather wing-backed chairs. Sitting in one was an old man, nearly skeletal with age. He turned and looked at Feris with a lack of surprise or curiosity. “Come. Sit.” he said dryly.
Feris did, and looked at the old man. “Who are you? What is this place?”
“I’m the one you’ve been searching this place for. As for what this place is? It’s my mind” he sighed sadly. “And I’ve been here an awfully long time.”
“Why was I looking for you?”
“Because I know where you can find it.”
“You have to tell me.”
“I do, but I can make you work for it. The answer is here, in this room. As you’ve seen, everything else is gone, and soon I will be too. Even here I’ve become tired, and I’m ready to see what’s really next.”
Feris began searching the shelves, but the books seemed to be in no order at all, and the going was slow. “Can you tell me if I’m close?”
The old man laughed hoarsely. “I could, but I’m not going to.”
The thunder, if it wasn’t constant before, was now, and the whole manor was beginning to shake. Books began to fall from the shelves, and a crashing sound could be heard from somewhere beyond the library door.
“What is that?” Feris yelled over the cacophony.
“That my young friend, is the sound of my mind failing, finally, to the ravages of time... If you would survive, you should leave. Now.”
“But I don’t know where it is!”
A rending noise reverberated through whatever was left of the manor. Feris looked around sadly before turning for the door. Just was he was about to close it behind him, the old man called out “Take this with you” and tossed him a locket.
Feris gasped as he opened his eyes. Turning his head, he saw the now dead body of the old warlock.
Mental Manor
6 level Magic-User Spell
Range: 0 - Caster only
Duration: Special
Effect: Sends the caster's mind into a protective location
Casting this spell will create a shelter within the mind of the caster into which the caster can retreat. The body will go into a state of hibernation, and no external stimulus can impact the mind of the caster.
If multiple magic users cast the spell at the same time and in close physical proximity they can choose to share a single Mental Manor. If cast at a later time they can use it to enter another’s Mental Manor. If caught in another’s Mental Manor when the owner dies, the visitor must make a save vs. dragon’s breath or die. Leaving a Mental Manor takes 2d12 rounds, during which time the caster navigates to the Manor’s door.
The primary benefit to using a Mental Manor is as a last ditch defense against mental attacks. However it also halves the time needed to engage in spell research, so some wizards use it for that purpose on a regular basis.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Londaer's Lawful Linothorax
The hobgoblin army’s rusty black armor contrasted sharply with the town guard’s white linen. It also much better at hiding the blood. Beyond the town’s edge the defenders met the invader’s force with shield and spears, dodging with grace and agility against the attacker’s worst blows. Even when a solid strike would hit, the sort of blow that would kill a man, the wounded defender would not only remain standing but try to hit back.
The defenders of the town were slightly outnumbered, but the ironclad foes seemed to be wilting in the heat of the day.
“Warrior’s of Londaer! To me!” The shout rang out above the chaotic melee, and the white armored troops again converged upon the banner of the Silver Sun. Grasping the waving banner was a woman of dark skin, and fierce countenance. When her troop was again formed up tight around her, she charged once more into the heart of the enemy force.
Londaer's Lawful Linothorax
This linen armor provides the same base protection as chainmail, but counts as leather armor for all other purposes. It may also be enchanted up to a bonus of +3. In addition, when worn by a lawful character it grants 1 bonus hp per level/HD and a bonus equal to its enchantment bonus (+0 to +3) to fatigue or heat related rolls.
The defenders of the town were slightly outnumbered, but the ironclad foes seemed to be wilting in the heat of the day.
“Warrior’s of Londaer! To me!” The shout rang out above the chaotic melee, and the white armored troops again converged upon the banner of the Silver Sun. Grasping the waving banner was a woman of dark skin, and fierce countenance. When her troop was again formed up tight around her, she charged once more into the heart of the enemy force.
Londaer's Lawful Linothorax
This linen armor provides the same base protection as chainmail, but counts as leather armor for all other purposes. It may also be enchanted up to a bonus of +3. In addition, when worn by a lawful character it grants 1 bonus hp per level/HD and a bonus equal to its enchantment bonus (+0 to +3) to fatigue or heat related rolls.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
King's Keep
The ruins hinted that had once been a place of strength; a small but well built fortification on the edge of civilization. Now precariously leaning walls seemed to be held together with the vines that grew on them, and piles of rubble showed where the vines had failed.
“This is it.” Feris said, looking up from the parchment.
“This is it?” Rathgar grumbled, waving his hand across the ruins “This... is it?!?”
“Yes it is. Glorious isn’t it?” replied Feris, oblivious to Rathgar’s growing annoyance.
“I don’t understand.” Allianora said. “This is the King’s Keep?”
“But there isn’t anything here.” Nimble whined.
“Ahh, but you’re wrong. The keep is here, and it’s ours!” Feris began to walk forward through the ruins. As he did, the remaining walls seemed to straighten, and stones began to roll, tumble, and bounce their way back into the form they once held.
By the time Feris had reached the main door of the keep, the entire structure had been rebuilt before his companion’s eyes.
“Feris, what is this place?” Nimble asked as he caught up with him at the great door.
Feris picked up a large iron key from the ground, and inserted it into the keyhole. “I told you... This is the King’s Keep, and it’s ours. Come on in.”
King’s Keep
This small castle can never be truly destroyed, at least not without the use of Wish level magics. As long as the keep is claimed, the magic of the castle will rebuild any damage at sunrise, or as soon as it is claimed by a new master if more than a day has past since it was last owned.
“This is it.” Feris said, looking up from the parchment.
“This is it?” Rathgar grumbled, waving his hand across the ruins “This... is it?!?”
“Yes it is. Glorious isn’t it?” replied Feris, oblivious to Rathgar’s growing annoyance.
“I don’t understand.” Allianora said. “This is the King’s Keep?”
“But there isn’t anything here.” Nimble whined.
“Ahh, but you’re wrong. The keep is here, and it’s ours!” Feris began to walk forward through the ruins. As he did, the remaining walls seemed to straighten, and stones began to roll, tumble, and bounce their way back into the form they once held.
By the time Feris had reached the main door of the keep, the entire structure had been rebuilt before his companion’s eyes.
“Feris, what is this place?” Nimble asked as he caught up with him at the great door.
Feris picked up a large iron key from the ground, and inserted it into the keyhole. “I told you... This is the King’s Keep, and it’s ours. Come on in.”
King’s Keep
This small castle can never be truly destroyed, at least not without the use of Wish level magics. As long as the keep is claimed, the magic of the castle will rebuild any damage at sunrise, or as soon as it is claimed by a new master if more than a day has past since it was last owned.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Jacket of the Jackal
The sun burned red at the edge of the horizon, and cast long shadows across the dunes. The four companions sat under the edge of a large rock that offered some protection from both the wind and the heat. In moments the sun dipped below the horizon, and the sky’s color shifted rapidly with brilliant pastels.
“It always shocks me how quickly that happens in the desert.” Allianora said through cracked lips.
“Let’s get moving.” Rathgar said with a sigh. “We’ve got a ways to go tonight if we’re going to get across this wasteland.”
The companions quickly gathered their few items, and began walking toward the fading light of the day. A long howl followed by three sharp yelps pierced the quiet sounds of the desert. “Jackal” Rathgar warned. “As long as we look strong, we should be fine. Keep together.”
The companions continued on, their torches creating a bright spot in an otherwise black environment. After a time, Nimble, who had taken point stopped and held up his hand. “We’re being followed.” he said softly over his shoulder.
“More jackals?” Feris asked.
“No. What stalks us walks on two legs.” Nimble answered.
“Not entirely true.” answered a voice from the darkness. “They’re here also.”
Jacket of the Jackal
Crafted from the fur of the desert jackal this jacket is enchanted to allow the wearer to speak with jackals, to be able to see in the dark, and to grant a +2 bonus to AC.
“It always shocks me how quickly that happens in the desert.” Allianora said through cracked lips.
“Let’s get moving.” Rathgar said with a sigh. “We’ve got a ways to go tonight if we’re going to get across this wasteland.”
The companions quickly gathered their few items, and began walking toward the fading light of the day. A long howl followed by three sharp yelps pierced the quiet sounds of the desert. “Jackal” Rathgar warned. “As long as we look strong, we should be fine. Keep together.”
The companions continued on, their torches creating a bright spot in an otherwise black environment. After a time, Nimble, who had taken point stopped and held up his hand. “We’re being followed.” he said softly over his shoulder.
“More jackals?” Feris asked.
“No. What stalks us walks on two legs.” Nimble answered.
“Not entirely true.” answered a voice from the darkness. “They’re here also.”
Jacket of the Jackal
Crafted from the fur of the desert jackal this jacket is enchanted to allow the wearer to speak with jackals, to be able to see in the dark, and to grant a +2 bonus to AC.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Ista's Illumination
The tower was dark, and silent. The Magus sat in his chamber, contemplating a new bit of magic. Across the room the Well of Worlds showed only inky blackness. The Magis stood and stretched before walking to the wall of bookshelves. Stretching to grab one off the top shelf he returned to the desk and sat down.
The Magus opened the book, set it down upon the desk, and looked upon the blank pages. “Illuminate for the the current tale of my apprentice Feris” Upon the pages, pictures began to form, showing Feris and his companions departing a town, heading out into the desert.
"Master?"
The Magus looked up from his reading. The sky had begun to lighten. "They still haven't found Sita Hatun yet." He told his apprentice sadly.
"But we just received a sending from Feris... He said she's now free, though the VrachÃona is gone."
Ista's Illumination
Seventh Level Magic User Spell
Range: 5’
Duration: Permanent
Effect: Records the exploits of the individual named in a blank book
When cast, Ista’s Illumination fills a blank book with the history of any person named. The story will appear with captioned illustrations, and the tone and style of the writing will closely match that of the caster. The accuracy of the story will be based on the following chart, and modified by the items noted below. Please note: The caster will always believe they rolled at least a 6, if not better!
Roll a 1d6
1 - Completely fictitious
2 - Almost completely incorrect
3 - Most major details are incorrect
4 - Some major details are incorrect
5 - Few major details are incorrect
6 - One major detail is incorrect
7 - Some minor details are incorrect
8 - Few minor details are incorrect
9 - Story is completely correct
10 - Story is completely correct & includes either some future event, or details that may lead to something of value to the caster (treat as a treasure map)
Modifiers:
Caster’s intelligence modifier
Casters level/10
-1 if the subject is still alive
-1 if the subject is timeframe is more than 50 years past
-1 if over 100 years past
-1 if over 250 years past
-1 if over 500 years past
-1 for every 1,000 years past
A natural roll of 1 can never be modified better than a 5.
The Magus opened the book, set it down upon the desk, and looked upon the blank pages. “Illuminate for the the current tale of my apprentice Feris” Upon the pages, pictures began to form, showing Feris and his companions departing a town, heading out into the desert.
"Master?"
The Magus looked up from his reading. The sky had begun to lighten. "They still haven't found Sita Hatun yet." He told his apprentice sadly.
"But we just received a sending from Feris... He said she's now free, though the VrachÃona is gone."
Ista's Illumination
Seventh Level Magic User Spell
Range: 5’
Duration: Permanent
Effect: Records the exploits of the individual named in a blank book
When cast, Ista’s Illumination fills a blank book with the history of any person named. The story will appear with captioned illustrations, and the tone and style of the writing will closely match that of the caster. The accuracy of the story will be based on the following chart, and modified by the items noted below. Please note: The caster will always believe they rolled at least a 6, if not better!
Roll a 1d6
1 - Completely fictitious
2 - Almost completely incorrect
3 - Most major details are incorrect
4 - Some major details are incorrect
5 - Few major details are incorrect
6 - One major detail is incorrect
7 - Some minor details are incorrect
8 - Few minor details are incorrect
9 - Story is completely correct
10 - Story is completely correct & includes either some future event, or details that may lead to something of value to the caster (treat as a treasure map)
Modifiers:
Caster’s intelligence modifier
Casters level/10
-1 if the subject is still alive
-1 if the subject is timeframe is more than 50 years past
-1 if over 100 years past
-1 if over 250 years past
-1 if over 500 years past
-1 for every 1,000 years past
A natural roll of 1 can never be modified better than a 5.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Hellborn Helpers
The diminutive figures stood nervously against the wall, facing the demon trapped within the summoning circle.
“My master will never agree to that” the demon’s voice reverberated.
“Your master has already agreed to it. That’s why you’re here.” A feminine voice replied
“I don’t see how you could have obtained his agreement to this.”
“Simple, I didn’t tell him why I wanted you.” She paused, leaning forward “And he didn’t ask. After I paid him, I don’t think he cared.”
The demon growled “You want more of those... things?” The demon looked over its shoulder at the huddled figures.
“Oh yes! They’re actually quite useful. While they may be cowardly, for the most part, they can also be extremely vicious. Plus, it’s so easy to get them in where they can cause the most mayhem.”
“What do I get from this deal?”
“For providing me with an additional dozen of the little dears, I’ll tell you when and where a pilgrimage full of children can be taken for your own devices, and you’ll be able to remain on this plane until you’re done with them.”
“Very well.”
Hellborn Helpers
These small statues are the creation of demonic magics, and infused with the stuff of chaos. When placed in a home or business they will cause a wide variety of ever escalating accidents, mishaps, and other unfortunate occurrences. While not what one would generally bring into one’s house, they are often disguised under illusionary magic that makes them appear as attractive decorations.
“My master will never agree to that” the demon’s voice reverberated.
“Your master has already agreed to it. That’s why you’re here.” A feminine voice replied
“I don’t see how you could have obtained his agreement to this.”
“Simple, I didn’t tell him why I wanted you.” She paused, leaning forward “And he didn’t ask. After I paid him, I don’t think he cared.”
The demon growled “You want more of those... things?” The demon looked over its shoulder at the huddled figures.
“Oh yes! They’re actually quite useful. While they may be cowardly, for the most part, they can also be extremely vicious. Plus, it’s so easy to get them in where they can cause the most mayhem.”
“What do I get from this deal?”
“For providing me with an additional dozen of the little dears, I’ll tell you when and where a pilgrimage full of children can be taken for your own devices, and you’ll be able to remain on this plane until you’re done with them.”
“Very well.”
Hellborn Helpers
These small statues are the creation of demonic magics, and infused with the stuff of chaos. When placed in a home or business they will cause a wide variety of ever escalating accidents, mishaps, and other unfortunate occurrences. While not what one would generally bring into one’s house, they are often disguised under illusionary magic that makes them appear as attractive decorations.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Galvoni's Glazing
The creatures came pouring out of the cave mouth in a nearly silent wave of maliciousness. Like a flock of birds they turned as one, aiming their horde down the side of the mountain.
“There they go” Nimble said, lowering the spyglass from his eye. The full moon above provided a bright but pale yellow light that illuminated the grotesque creatures. “They’re headed straight for town, just like the villagers said.”
“I rather expected the villagers to have exaggerated the creatures numbers.” Rathgar commented. “Still think we can stop them?”
“Absolutely!” Feris replied with a grin. “And you’re going to love how!” He then led his companions down the path to where it would intersect with the oncoming horde.
Each of the creatures had hundreds of legs running the length of their black chitinous bodies. Their heads were human shaped, though made of the same material that covered the length of their forms. Their eyes, however, were disturbingly human. Up close a soft whisper of clicks permeated the mass of monsters.
Feris pointed to a spot well past the front line of creatures, and a blue flash arched out. In the blink of an eye the entire front of the mob slowed to a mere crawl, and their bodies were covered with a layer of frost. Rathgar and Allianora moved forward and began shattering the creatures left and right.
Galvoni's Glazing
Sixth Level Magic User Spell
Range: 120’
Duration: 1 round/level
Effect: Freezes creatures within a 30’x60’ area
This spell will affect all creatures within the given area. All affected creatures will be covered with a thin layer of frost that will reduce their movement to 1/4, drop their armor class by 4, and increase all damage sustained by 2 points for every successful attack. They will also automatically go last in every round of combat.
“There they go” Nimble said, lowering the spyglass from his eye. The full moon above provided a bright but pale yellow light that illuminated the grotesque creatures. “They’re headed straight for town, just like the villagers said.”
“I rather expected the villagers to have exaggerated the creatures numbers.” Rathgar commented. “Still think we can stop them?”
“Absolutely!” Feris replied with a grin. “And you’re going to love how!” He then led his companions down the path to where it would intersect with the oncoming horde.
Each of the creatures had hundreds of legs running the length of their black chitinous bodies. Their heads were human shaped, though made of the same material that covered the length of their forms. Their eyes, however, were disturbingly human. Up close a soft whisper of clicks permeated the mass of monsters.
Feris pointed to a spot well past the front line of creatures, and a blue flash arched out. In the blink of an eye the entire front of the mob slowed to a mere crawl, and their bodies were covered with a layer of frost. Rathgar and Allianora moved forward and began shattering the creatures left and right.
Galvoni's Glazing
Sixth Level Magic User Spell
Range: 120’
Duration: 1 round/level
Effect: Freezes creatures within a 30’x60’ area
This spell will affect all creatures within the given area. All affected creatures will be covered with a thin layer of frost that will reduce their movement to 1/4, drop their armor class by 4, and increase all damage sustained by 2 points for every successful attack. They will also automatically go last in every round of combat.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Fertilizer of Ferocious Fecundity
The shuffling of the dead grew steadily louder as many thousands of bodies lifted themselves out of their tombs, niches, and coffins. “We’re running out of time” Nimble warned.
“I know that, but we have to get this to the central chamber, otherwise it won’t work.” Alianora replied as they hurried through the crypt’s halls. Her glowing had was held outstretched, and in the crook of her other arm a jug of glowing green glop.
“Turn left up ahead.” Feris instructed as he looked up from the sketch. “According to this the room should be right around the corner.
Around the corner loose chunks of bonelike material were scattered all over the floor. getting thicker toward the doorway near the end of the hall. “Damned fools” Allianora swore. Within the door a small splinter of the material stuck out from between two of the flagstones. Allianora upended the jar, and poured the glop all over the splinter. In a second it had doubled in size. In another it had doubled again. Within 10 seconds it filled the room, and was starting to expand into the hall. A low moaning whistle began to emanate from the coral-like growth.
Fertilizer of Ferocious Fecundity
This green goop when applied to plant material will cause the plant to grow at an extremely advanced rate. One application is enough to turn a single stick into a full grown bush, ivy and vines will cover an entire wall, a thornbush will block a huge area, and a tree might reach the edge of a cloud giant’s home! The goop will have no effect on animal matter, but molds, fungus, and slimes will all grow. When used on a plant based monster it will not only automatically reach maximum hit points, but it will gain an additional 1d2+1 HD!
“I know that, but we have to get this to the central chamber, otherwise it won’t work.” Alianora replied as they hurried through the crypt’s halls. Her glowing had was held outstretched, and in the crook of her other arm a jug of glowing green glop.
“Turn left up ahead.” Feris instructed as he looked up from the sketch. “According to this the room should be right around the corner.
Around the corner loose chunks of bonelike material were scattered all over the floor. getting thicker toward the doorway near the end of the hall. “Damned fools” Allianora swore. Within the door a small splinter of the material stuck out from between two of the flagstones. Allianora upended the jar, and poured the glop all over the splinter. In a second it had doubled in size. In another it had doubled again. Within 10 seconds it filled the room, and was starting to expand into the hall. A low moaning whistle began to emanate from the coral-like growth.
Fertilizer of Ferocious Fecundity
This green goop when applied to plant material will cause the plant to grow at an extremely advanced rate. One application is enough to turn a single stick into a full grown bush, ivy and vines will cover an entire wall, a thornbush will block a huge area, and a tree might reach the edge of a cloud giant’s home! The goop will have no effect on animal matter, but molds, fungus, and slimes will all grow. When used on a plant based monster it will not only automatically reach maximum hit points, but it will gain an additional 1d2+1 HD!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Ezra's Enchanted Evening
The indistinct figures moved slowly through the swirling mists. The few remaining lanterns and lights from upper windows provided a pervasive, if dim, illumination.
“How are we going to find them in this damnable fog?” Nimble asked Feris. “They could be anywhere.”
The buildings on either side of the street were barely visible “Honestly Nimble, I think we could be anywhere... I have no idea what street we’re on.”
“Fisher’s Lane.” Nimble paused. “I think. Definitely down by the docks anyway.”
“I’m tired, cold, wet, and done.” Feris dropped his backpack in the middle of the street, and began to rustle through it. “If Rathgar can’t keep track of his own coins, that’s his own damn fault. He can chase the little cut-purse himself.” Nimble then stood holding a scroll.
“What are you doing?” Nimble hissed “You can’t cast here!”
“Don’t worry.” Feris replied as he unrolled the scroll. “This is a subtle enchantment.” He read the scroll aloud, though Nimble couldn’t make out a single word. THe scroll crumbled in Feris’ hands. Feris then picked up his backpack, and smiled at Nimble, looking much less soggy. In fact, he had a kind of warm glow about him. Nimble blinked, and realized he also felt a warmth that had been lacking since they left the taven’s welcoming hearth.
A gentle breeze began to pick up off the ocean, and the fog began to clear. Above the stars sparkled.
Ezra's Enchanted Evening
2nd level Magic-User Spell
Range: 2 targets within 10’
Duration: 2 Turns/Level
Effect: 2 individuals
This spell, when cast upon a pair of beings, will give them a bonus of +1/3 levels of the caster on all charisma based rolls. In addition at level 6 it will cause local environmental factors to improve in such a way as to create a more romantic atmosphere, but only outside and at night.
“How are we going to find them in this damnable fog?” Nimble asked Feris. “They could be anywhere.”
The buildings on either side of the street were barely visible “Honestly Nimble, I think we could be anywhere... I have no idea what street we’re on.”
“Fisher’s Lane.” Nimble paused. “I think. Definitely down by the docks anyway.”
“I’m tired, cold, wet, and done.” Feris dropped his backpack in the middle of the street, and began to rustle through it. “If Rathgar can’t keep track of his own coins, that’s his own damn fault. He can chase the little cut-purse himself.” Nimble then stood holding a scroll.
“What are you doing?” Nimble hissed “You can’t cast here!”
“Don’t worry.” Feris replied as he unrolled the scroll. “This is a subtle enchantment.” He read the scroll aloud, though Nimble couldn’t make out a single word. THe scroll crumbled in Feris’ hands. Feris then picked up his backpack, and smiled at Nimble, looking much less soggy. In fact, he had a kind of warm glow about him. Nimble blinked, and realized he also felt a warmth that had been lacking since they left the taven’s welcoming hearth.
A gentle breeze began to pick up off the ocean, and the fog began to clear. Above the stars sparkled.
Ezra's Enchanted Evening
2nd level Magic-User Spell
Range: 2 targets within 10’
Duration: 2 Turns/Level
Effect: 2 individuals
This spell, when cast upon a pair of beings, will give them a bonus of +1/3 levels of the caster on all charisma based rolls. In addition at level 6 it will cause local environmental factors to improve in such a way as to create a more romantic atmosphere, but only outside and at night.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Devil's Dirk & Offering of Orcus
The cultist drove the dagger down into heart of the boy. His eyes widened in the brief moment before the knife was drawn out of his small chest and his young life drained away. The flickering torchlight caused the blood to sparkle on the blade.
“Lord Orcus, as I send this innocent soul to you, please bless this blade so that it might bring more souls to your hell.”
The cultist set the knife aside, and wiped the blood from the boy’s chest with a black cloth. Turning his back to the body, the cultist faced the idol and began to chant. The dark tongue echoed in the smokey stone chamber.
- - - -
“What do you hear?” Allianora asked Nimble.
“Chanting, I don’t know the language.”
“There may still be time” Feris whispered.
Rathgar nodded “Then let’s do it.” Nimble stood aside just as Rathgar’s boot slammed the door open.
The cultist spun to face the door, then tossed the blood soaked rag into the fire at the base of the idol. “Kill them.” The boy sat up on the stone alter, took the dagger in his hand, and slid onto the floor. Dead eyes turned toward the door.
“St. Gaxgy forgive me.” Rathgar raised his sword to strike the little undead thing.
Devil’s Dirk
This tool of Orcus when used to kill a helpless innocent causes the body to reanimate an an unliving horror. The creature will then use the dirk to kill as many people it knew in life as possible. It will not hesitate to kill anyone else who gets in the way.
Offering of Orcus
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3+1**
Move: 120’ (40’)
Attacks: Dirk of Orcus
Damage: 1d4+3
No. Appearing: 1 (1)
Save As: C5
Morale: 12
Treasure Type: Nil
Intelligence: 7
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 100
An Offering of Orcus is the undead form of an innocent killed in a dark ritual. It kills with the blade that was used to kill it. Offerings of Orcus can cause surprise on a 4-6, and anyone viewing it must make a save vs paralysis or always lose initiative while fighting it due to the horror of the attacker. The Offering of Orcus also regains hp up to its maximum on a 1:1 basis for each point of damage it causes.
“Lord Orcus, as I send this innocent soul to you, please bless this blade so that it might bring more souls to your hell.”
The cultist set the knife aside, and wiped the blood from the boy’s chest with a black cloth. Turning his back to the body, the cultist faced the idol and began to chant. The dark tongue echoed in the smokey stone chamber.
- - - -
“What do you hear?” Allianora asked Nimble.
“Chanting, I don’t know the language.”
“There may still be time” Feris whispered.
Rathgar nodded “Then let’s do it.” Nimble stood aside just as Rathgar’s boot slammed the door open.
The cultist spun to face the door, then tossed the blood soaked rag into the fire at the base of the idol. “Kill them.” The boy sat up on the stone alter, took the dagger in his hand, and slid onto the floor. Dead eyes turned toward the door.
“St. Gaxgy forgive me.” Rathgar raised his sword to strike the little undead thing.
Devil’s Dirk
This tool of Orcus when used to kill a helpless innocent causes the body to reanimate an an unliving horror. The creature will then use the dirk to kill as many people it knew in life as possible. It will not hesitate to kill anyone else who gets in the way.
Offering of Orcus
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3+1**
Move: 120’ (40’)
Attacks: Dirk of Orcus
Damage: 1d4+3
No. Appearing: 1 (1)
Save As: C5
Morale: 12
Treasure Type: Nil
Intelligence: 7
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 100
An Offering of Orcus is the undead form of an innocent killed in a dark ritual. It kills with the blade that was used to kill it. Offerings of Orcus can cause surprise on a 4-6, and anyone viewing it must make a save vs paralysis or always lose initiative while fighting it due to the horror of the attacker. The Offering of Orcus also regains hp up to its maximum on a 1:1 basis for each point of damage it causes.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Cursed Crown of Corinson
“Find them! Bring them back here. They will pay for this.” The tin crown in his hand dented as he threw it to the ground.
“My lord, perhaps-”
“My Lord? My LORD? I am a Duke of the royal house! You will address me by my proper title!”
“Of course, sir.”
“The correct form of address is ‘Your Grace’ you snivelling twit! Guards! Take this waste of space out of my sight!”
“Please sir-” the advisor began
“NOW!”
- - - -
“I bet he’s pissed” Feris said, checking over his shoulder.
“Pissed? I bet that vein on his forehead is ready to pop by now” Nimble howled.
“And didn’t he deserve it?” Rathgar said smugly. “Hiring us to break into his great uncle’s tomb, get the old regalia, not getting to keep anything, and then having us thrown out without even a word of thanks. Why should we have told him about the curse?”
“Gentleman, for once, I am in complete agreement with you.” Allianora smiled.
Cursed Crown of Corinson
Prior to his death, Prince Corinson had his friend and advisor place a curse upon his crown. Anyone who would try to use it to rule who was not of his direct bloodline would turn the crown from silver to tin and for as long as they rule suffer a -2 penalty to their reaction rolls. In addition, others will refuse to call the cursed ruler by the correct title, always using a lesser title, or none at all
“My lord, perhaps-”
“My Lord? My LORD? I am a Duke of the royal house! You will address me by my proper title!”
“Of course, sir.”
“The correct form of address is ‘Your Grace’ you snivelling twit! Guards! Take this waste of space out of my sight!”
“Please sir-” the advisor began
“NOW!”
- - - -
“I bet he’s pissed” Feris said, checking over his shoulder.
“Pissed? I bet that vein on his forehead is ready to pop by now” Nimble howled.
“And didn’t he deserve it?” Rathgar said smugly. “Hiring us to break into his great uncle’s tomb, get the old regalia, not getting to keep anything, and then having us thrown out without even a word of thanks. Why should we have told him about the curse?”
“Gentleman, for once, I am in complete agreement with you.” Allianora smiled.
Cursed Crown of Corinson
Prior to his death, Prince Corinson had his friend and advisor place a curse upon his crown. Anyone who would try to use it to rule who was not of his direct bloodline would turn the crown from silver to tin and for as long as they rule suffer a -2 penalty to their reaction rolls. In addition, others will refuse to call the cursed ruler by the correct title, always using a lesser title, or none at all
Monday, April 2, 2012
Bouncing Ball
“You will either let us pass, or we will go through you.”
“Brave words, runt.” Rathgar said to the small rust colored goblin before him. Looking past the spokes-goblin, he counted a mere 6 more, and carrying no better than stone tipped spears.
“You think because you are big that you are powerful. You think that you are smart. You think that you have the upper foot.
“I think you mean ‘upper hand’, don’t you?” Rathgar mocked.
“No. I spoke correctly. You would step on us, rather than let us pass. Yes?
Rathger paused before answering. “Yeah, probably.”
“We will not be stepped on.” The goblin raised a gauntleted hand above his head. “We will pass. Now.” With that, he opened his hand, and a little red blur flew directly at Rathgar’s forehead.
- - - - -
“Ow ow ow ow ow ow....” Rathgar thought as he opened his eyes. “What happened?”
Allianora helped him to sit up. “I was hoping you could tell me. You left to get water, and when you didn’t come back we came to check on you.”
“Goblins.”
“That would explain why you’re not wearing pants. I suppose they took your sword too?”
Bouncing Ball
This red rubber ball is always found held in the fingers of a steel gauntlet. When thrown it will bounce wildly. Anyone in its path will suffer 1d4 points of damage (save vs Death Ray for half - critical failure causes unconsciousness) and be distracted (-2 to all rolls and AC) for the round. If thrown in a confined space, the damage increased to 2d4+2. The wearer of the gauntlet may recall the ball automatically.
“Brave words, runt.” Rathgar said to the small rust colored goblin before him. Looking past the spokes-goblin, he counted a mere 6 more, and carrying no better than stone tipped spears.
“You think because you are big that you are powerful. You think that you are smart. You think that you have the upper foot.
“I think you mean ‘upper hand’, don’t you?” Rathgar mocked.
“No. I spoke correctly. You would step on us, rather than let us pass. Yes?
Rathger paused before answering. “Yeah, probably.”
“We will not be stepped on.” The goblin raised a gauntleted hand above his head. “We will pass. Now.” With that, he opened his hand, and a little red blur flew directly at Rathgar’s forehead.
- - - - -
“Ow ow ow ow ow ow....” Rathgar thought as he opened his eyes. “What happened?”
Allianora helped him to sit up. “I was hoping you could tell me. You left to get water, and when you didn’t come back we came to check on you.”
“Goblins.”
“That would explain why you’re not wearing pants. I suppose they took your sword too?”
Bouncing Ball
This red rubber ball is always found held in the fingers of a steel gauntlet. When thrown it will bounce wildly. Anyone in its path will suffer 1d4 points of damage (save vs Death Ray for half - critical failure causes unconsciousness) and be distracted (-2 to all rolls and AC) for the round. If thrown in a confined space, the damage increased to 2d4+2. The wearer of the gauntlet may recall the ball automatically.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Arc Arrow of Alria
“You saw what happened last time! Give me the arrow.”
“No! I was dead-accurate with my shot, and we wouldn’t have been seen if you hadn’t made all that noise! Now give me my bow back.”
Feris sat on a large rock and cleared his throat “If I may-”
“NO!” Rathgar and Nimble said in unison.
Feris sighed.
“We only have one arrow, one shot, it has to count.” Rathgar argued.
“And just like last time, I’m still the better shot.” Nimble argued.
“They’re getting closer” Allianora warned. “If you keep this up, they’ll hear you too.”
Rathgar fumed. “Fine! Don’t miss.”
Nimble smiled as he snatched the bow, and rushed to the parapet. Drawing the arrow back he took aim at the approaching squad of chaos knights. Their elaborate armor jingled softly in the distance. With a soft exhale the arrow flew...
Passing through the first line of knights and embedding into the ground at the foot of the warrior with the most elaborate helmet.
“Fan-fracking-tastic. You missed!” Rathgar hissed.
“I didn’t” Nimbles smile widened.
With a crack the sky flashed, and the screaming started.
Arc Arrow of Alria
These jagged tipped arrows have a single thin copper wire winding from the steel tip all the way to the notch. When fired into a target it will cause 1d8+3 points of damage. When fired into the ground, everyone within 10’ will suffer 3d8+3 points of electrical damage (save vs wands for half).
“No! I was dead-accurate with my shot, and we wouldn’t have been seen if you hadn’t made all that noise! Now give me my bow back.”
Feris sat on a large rock and cleared his throat “If I may-”
“NO!” Rathgar and Nimble said in unison.
Feris sighed.
“We only have one arrow, one shot, it has to count.” Rathgar argued.
“And just like last time, I’m still the better shot.” Nimble argued.
“They’re getting closer” Allianora warned. “If you keep this up, they’ll hear you too.”
Rathgar fumed. “Fine! Don’t miss.”
Nimble smiled as he snatched the bow, and rushed to the parapet. Drawing the arrow back he took aim at the approaching squad of chaos knights. Their elaborate armor jingled softly in the distance. With a soft exhale the arrow flew...
Passing through the first line of knights and embedding into the ground at the foot of the warrior with the most elaborate helmet.
“Fan-fracking-tastic. You missed!” Rathgar hissed.
“I didn’t” Nimbles smile widened.
With a crack the sky flashed, and the screaming started.
Arc Arrow of Alria
These jagged tipped arrows have a single thin copper wire winding from the steel tip all the way to the notch. When fired into a target it will cause 1d8+3 points of damage. When fired into the ground, everyone within 10’ will suffer 3d8+3 points of electrical damage (save vs wands for half).
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