In the wake of the Elf's death, the Dwarf and Specialist tended to the Crusader's wounds. He would make it, if they could get him back to Aldentown. The Dwarf explored the cavern where they had first encountered the goblins. He examined the mining automaton, and noted the extensive damage its right arm had received. Leery of reactivating it, he continued his searches until he discovered a bit of stonework that didn't look quite right.
The stonework turned out to be a facade, and behind that facade was a small workshop meant for repairing the mining automatons. Most of the tools and spare parts were gone, but there was a spare right arm. The Dwarf and Specialist set to work repairing the machine. After accomplishing their goal and reactivating the machine, the Dwarf set to work on an unpleasant task.
He searched through the rubble and bodies caused by the Elf's explosive end, looking for their letter of authority and the sword that the Crusader had hidden it in. With some very messy effort, he found it. Unfortunately, it was now mangled, and the force of the explosion had cracked the hilt where the papers were stored. Blood had soaked them into illegibility.
While he toiled, a goblin woman came forward bearing a ring, speaking in broken dwarven. She made placative gestures and and said the dwarf word for "surrender". The Dwarf's angry shouts and hostile body language sent her fleeing, but not before she dropped the ring*. Troubled by the heroic death of the Elf, the Dwarf used the rest of the gunpowder the party had to make demolition points in the unexplored tunnel. When he was done, the explosions collapsed the tunnels, possibly forever.
And with that, the Specialist and Dwarf, carrying the Crusader in a makeshift travois and the automaton stomping behind, made their way back toward Aldentown, and were joined by Ebrulf.
When they arrived, the townsfolk were saddened to hear of the death of the Elf, and they were very concerned for the Crusader. The Dwarf and Specialist let the villagers take the Crusader away to the Moosefoot so that he could be tended by whatever alchemists, witches, or healers existed in the place. As for the automaton, the Dwarf chose to hide it in an abandoned barn. He made the risky choice to deactivate the great old machine, not knowing for sure if it would ever roar to life again.
It was many days before the Crusader was well, but he was also wounded in spirit. He had lost his holy symbol along with his sword, and felt keenly bereft. The healer who had tended his wounds relayed his hurt to the village's goldsmith, and they fashioned him a new one, though the church fathers would likely have despised it for its pagan imagery. The Crusader though was gladdened however, and felt the kindness and generosity of the villagers of Aldentown was a worthy reason to keep it.
And this is unfortunately, the last part of the tale, because Carlos has yet to make a replacement for his Elf. But that's okay. Because we've also played a few other games, notably, one involving ray guns and aliens.
*The ring was a ring of protection +1.
Showing posts with label Lamentations of the Flame Princess. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lamentations of the Flame Princess. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Spies and Pirates, Part IV
Our four weary spies tramped into the common room of the Moosefoot Inn, and took a table by the fire. The proprietor and his wife provided a meal in return for coin - coin which they knew was strange and different from the coins that the village was used to seeing, and were of a kind with the coins spent by the pirates of Port Varos. The Elf paid for the best bottles of wine that they had, which turned out to be a drinkable vintage, and after, lodging was secured.
Being that they were strangers, it was unsurprising that they drew as much interest as they did. In the morning, Aldentown's mayor put on his finery, and tramped down from his townhouse to the Moosefoot to see what all the hubbub was about.
Aldentown knew of the dwarves of Zagrammhar's Hold, but they hadn't seen them in generations. So, the party's Dwarf was something exotic, but known. The Elf on the other hand? Aldentown hadn't seen in elf in hundreds of years. If any still lived on the island, they avoided men, and kept their settlements secret. Even then, the party's accents and words were strange to the ears, cut off as they had been from the mainland for several generations. Of note too was the Crusader, clearly both a pious man and a soldier - a warrior from a cult which had been unable to convert the island's people to the worship of their fiery, industrious god, and away from the strange and pagan rites which they continued to practice.
So, Walaric waited at the bar so he could speak with these newcomers and sound them out. When they emerged, he introduced himself, asked them to take lunch with him at his townhouse. The party accepted, and they went.
Their talk was friendly, Walaric answering their questions about the town, the island, and even the pirates. They answered his questions about why they had come, specifically, their desire to meet with Balthazar, the wizard responsible for the island's perpetual storm. Walaric revealed that he was the great grandson of Balthazar, and that most people in Aldentown were related to the sorcerer in one way or another. It seemed that once every decade or so, for many, many generations into the past, Balthazar would come down from his tower above Lake Belro and would court, seduce, or kidnap a local woman who took his fancy. Sometimes they returned more or less unharmed. Others returned pregnant. A few never returned at all. Most could only vaguely recall what had happened to them.
Most folk in Aldentown tried to ignore how closely they might be related due to the wizard's meddling. Far too uncomfortable. However, they did use their kinship with the wizard to keep the pirates mostly honest. It was better than the alternative.
Walaric was proud that he had inherited some minor sorcerous power, and demonstrated by turning a tea cup into a mouse. It lived for only a few minutes, before once again becoming a tea cup.
It was not long after that they were interrupted by the town's miller, Remi. Remi explained that goblins had gotten into the mill once again, and had taken several bags of flour. Walaric promised to put out patrols and keep some young men on watch. It was at this point that our spies offered to deal with the goblins permanently.
Obviously, Walaric was happy for the offer. The party decided to focus on planning their expedition, and asked if there was a local hunter or guide who could help them find the goblins. Walaric recommended Ebrulf, a man who had hunted the area since childhood.
The party retired to the Moosefoot Inn to plan, and to wait for Ebrulf to arrive. Sometime around evening, the old hunter drifted into town and was sent down to the Moosefoot.
All was quickly arranged, the party agreed to meet Ebrulf at first light on the edge of town and then travel into the wooded foothills to the mine where the goblins were laired. They followed the greying man up into the hills and forests, until at late afternoon, they topped a ridge that overlooked the mine itself. They set up camp, and kept a watch on the entrance below. Around dusk, a goblin left the safety of the mine, with a bucket in hand. A small stream flowed below the entrance, and it was to the banks of this waterway that the goblin went.
Before the goblin traveled all the way however, they stopped to speak with another goblin guarding the entrance that the party had not seen until that point. Our specialist knocked an arrow, and waited for the goblin to get partway down the remains of a gravel road before he loosed. It struck, killing them instantly, the bucket clattering to the ground and rolling a few feet away.
The sentry came out from cover, calling something in their savage tongue, and the party swarmed down the ridge toward the entrance. Ebrulf stayed behind, and covered them with his hunting bow. The party managed to kill the sentry before he could retreat or take cover behind a toppled mine cart. On further examination, the initial goblin they had slain was a female.
When no further activity came from the mine entrance, Ebrulf joined the party. They began to hash out a plan among themselves, but unknown to them, a second sentry had been watching from inside, and when his fellow had died at their hands, he had raced down the tunnel to warn his chieftain of the invaders. Their plan was to smoke the goblins out, so they tipped a mine cart back upright and onto the sturdy, dwarven forged rails, and began filling it with as much dry wood as they could find, some oil from the lanterns, the goblin's bucket, the sentry's spear, and both bodies.
Once the conflagration had gotten going, they piled leaves on it for smoke, and pushed it as hard as they could down the rails. By virtue of their dwarf-made nature, the cart was carried down the rails quite far - far enough to trigger another dwarf-made feature: a pit trap. The mine cart clanged and clattered into a long pit, dug 10' deep, the floor swinging down. It wasn't the most successful plan, but all in all, it was a clever one, had the mine's interior not been designed the way it was.*
Their plan thwarted, the party ventured into the darkness of the mine with lanterns lit and weapons a ready. Past the long pit trap was the mechanism that would reset it, or make it active. They left it alone, and soon found themselves in a T passage, and chose to explore to their right, leaving the left unexplored. At the end of the right passage were two big iron bound doors, closed. Listening at the doors, they could hear the muffled orders of goblins, but as no one could understand the language, it was unknown what those mad barkings were about.
A quick reconnoiter of the left passage revealed an elevator, but it didn't look sturdy, so they decided not to risk it. Returning to the double doors, they readied their muskets and pistols, and barged in. With great thunders of smoke and fire, the combined firepower of the power killed and wounded several goblins, and the rest broke and ran, retreating deeper into the mine. Quickly looking over the room they found themselves in, the party discovered that the goblins were continuing to work the abandoned mine, using cast off implements that were likely so bad that the dwarves who had abandoned the place had left them without a second thought.
In one corner was a damaged dwarven automaton, a bipedal mining device with drills on its arms in place of hands. However, there wasn't a lot of time to take stock or do much of anything, so the party began reloading their weapons, and the Crusader advanced to the beginning of the passage that the goblins had retreated down. Our Dwarf took up position on the other side, and the Specialist went to the same side as the Crusader. Our Elf was busying himself with reloading his pistols from a safe distance away.
The goblins returned, along with the chieftain and shaman, both hobgoblins. They'd managed to draw some more of the goblins into formation, so now they numbered twenty or so, plus three hobgoblins (another hobgoblin had been slain in the initial engagement). Using shortbows from their back ranks, the goblins waited for their foes to reveal themselves. The Dwarf and the Specialist revealed themselves, the dwarf blasting them with a mighty cough of his blunderbuss, the Specialist with his pistol. Both of them were wounded by the arrows, and the Specialist was downed. Only by the efforts of the Dwarf and Crusader was he pulled to safety.
Knowing that the tide had turned grim, the Crusader rushed the goblins, hoping to break their formation and slay their shaman or chieftain, and throw them into chaos. Unfortunately, this brave act didn't have the effect he desired, and although he savagely wounded the shaman, he was brought down by the many spears of the goblins who had encircled him. The Elf, who had since reloaded and moved up, saw the Crusader collapse among the green skinned foes, made a fateful decision. The Dwarf, for his part, knowing that things were all but lost, waded in while the goblin formation was disrupted, and extracted the Crusader.
It was this moment that the Elf had waited for. He charged. And as he ran into the teeth of the goblin spears, he lit fuses, fired hisapostles powder horns (measured containers of gunpowder), and dived straight into the middle of them. The explosion shook the small passage, and the shrapnel killed anyone not slain by the blast itself. When the smoke had cleared, the Specialist and the Dwarf were witness to the utter destruction of the foe. But the Crusader was unconscious, possibly dying, and the Elf... The Elf was as surely dead as the goblins he had courageously slain.
And so ends Part IV. Continued in Part V.
*The module I used for the mine was Gold in the Hills, which can be found on the Basic Fantasy RPG website. It's free! Check it out.
Being that they were strangers, it was unsurprising that they drew as much interest as they did. In the morning, Aldentown's mayor put on his finery, and tramped down from his townhouse to the Moosefoot to see what all the hubbub was about.
Aldentown knew of the dwarves of Zagrammhar's Hold, but they hadn't seen them in generations. So, the party's Dwarf was something exotic, but known. The Elf on the other hand? Aldentown hadn't seen in elf in hundreds of years. If any still lived on the island, they avoided men, and kept their settlements secret. Even then, the party's accents and words were strange to the ears, cut off as they had been from the mainland for several generations. Of note too was the Crusader, clearly both a pious man and a soldier - a warrior from a cult which had been unable to convert the island's people to the worship of their fiery, industrious god, and away from the strange and pagan rites which they continued to practice.
So, Walaric waited at the bar so he could speak with these newcomers and sound them out. When they emerged, he introduced himself, asked them to take lunch with him at his townhouse. The party accepted, and they went.
Their talk was friendly, Walaric answering their questions about the town, the island, and even the pirates. They answered his questions about why they had come, specifically, their desire to meet with Balthazar, the wizard responsible for the island's perpetual storm. Walaric revealed that he was the great grandson of Balthazar, and that most people in Aldentown were related to the sorcerer in one way or another. It seemed that once every decade or so, for many, many generations into the past, Balthazar would come down from his tower above Lake Belro and would court, seduce, or kidnap a local woman who took his fancy. Sometimes they returned more or less unharmed. Others returned pregnant. A few never returned at all. Most could only vaguely recall what had happened to them.
Most folk in Aldentown tried to ignore how closely they might be related due to the wizard's meddling. Far too uncomfortable. However, they did use their kinship with the wizard to keep the pirates mostly honest. It was better than the alternative.
Walaric was proud that he had inherited some minor sorcerous power, and demonstrated by turning a tea cup into a mouse. It lived for only a few minutes, before once again becoming a tea cup.
It was not long after that they were interrupted by the town's miller, Remi. Remi explained that goblins had gotten into the mill once again, and had taken several bags of flour. Walaric promised to put out patrols and keep some young men on watch. It was at this point that our spies offered to deal with the goblins permanently.
Obviously, Walaric was happy for the offer. The party decided to focus on planning their expedition, and asked if there was a local hunter or guide who could help them find the goblins. Walaric recommended Ebrulf, a man who had hunted the area since childhood.
The party retired to the Moosefoot Inn to plan, and to wait for Ebrulf to arrive. Sometime around evening, the old hunter drifted into town and was sent down to the Moosefoot.
All was quickly arranged, the party agreed to meet Ebrulf at first light on the edge of town and then travel into the wooded foothills to the mine where the goblins were laired. They followed the greying man up into the hills and forests, until at late afternoon, they topped a ridge that overlooked the mine itself. They set up camp, and kept a watch on the entrance below. Around dusk, a goblin left the safety of the mine, with a bucket in hand. A small stream flowed below the entrance, and it was to the banks of this waterway that the goblin went.
Before the goblin traveled all the way however, they stopped to speak with another goblin guarding the entrance that the party had not seen until that point. Our specialist knocked an arrow, and waited for the goblin to get partway down the remains of a gravel road before he loosed. It struck, killing them instantly, the bucket clattering to the ground and rolling a few feet away.
The sentry came out from cover, calling something in their savage tongue, and the party swarmed down the ridge toward the entrance. Ebrulf stayed behind, and covered them with his hunting bow. The party managed to kill the sentry before he could retreat or take cover behind a toppled mine cart. On further examination, the initial goblin they had slain was a female.
When no further activity came from the mine entrance, Ebrulf joined the party. They began to hash out a plan among themselves, but unknown to them, a second sentry had been watching from inside, and when his fellow had died at their hands, he had raced down the tunnel to warn his chieftain of the invaders. Their plan was to smoke the goblins out, so they tipped a mine cart back upright and onto the sturdy, dwarven forged rails, and began filling it with as much dry wood as they could find, some oil from the lanterns, the goblin's bucket, the sentry's spear, and both bodies.
Once the conflagration had gotten going, they piled leaves on it for smoke, and pushed it as hard as they could down the rails. By virtue of their dwarf-made nature, the cart was carried down the rails quite far - far enough to trigger another dwarf-made feature: a pit trap. The mine cart clanged and clattered into a long pit, dug 10' deep, the floor swinging down. It wasn't the most successful plan, but all in all, it was a clever one, had the mine's interior not been designed the way it was.*
Their plan thwarted, the party ventured into the darkness of the mine with lanterns lit and weapons a ready. Past the long pit trap was the mechanism that would reset it, or make it active. They left it alone, and soon found themselves in a T passage, and chose to explore to their right, leaving the left unexplored. At the end of the right passage were two big iron bound doors, closed. Listening at the doors, they could hear the muffled orders of goblins, but as no one could understand the language, it was unknown what those mad barkings were about.
A quick reconnoiter of the left passage revealed an elevator, but it didn't look sturdy, so they decided not to risk it. Returning to the double doors, they readied their muskets and pistols, and barged in. With great thunders of smoke and fire, the combined firepower of the power killed and wounded several goblins, and the rest broke and ran, retreating deeper into the mine. Quickly looking over the room they found themselves in, the party discovered that the goblins were continuing to work the abandoned mine, using cast off implements that were likely so bad that the dwarves who had abandoned the place had left them without a second thought.
In one corner was a damaged dwarven automaton, a bipedal mining device with drills on its arms in place of hands. However, there wasn't a lot of time to take stock or do much of anything, so the party began reloading their weapons, and the Crusader advanced to the beginning of the passage that the goblins had retreated down. Our Dwarf took up position on the other side, and the Specialist went to the same side as the Crusader. Our Elf was busying himself with reloading his pistols from a safe distance away.
The goblins returned, along with the chieftain and shaman, both hobgoblins. They'd managed to draw some more of the goblins into formation, so now they numbered twenty or so, plus three hobgoblins (another hobgoblin had been slain in the initial engagement). Using shortbows from their back ranks, the goblins waited for their foes to reveal themselves. The Dwarf and the Specialist revealed themselves, the dwarf blasting them with a mighty cough of his blunderbuss, the Specialist with his pistol. Both of them were wounded by the arrows, and the Specialist was downed. Only by the efforts of the Dwarf and Crusader was he pulled to safety.
Knowing that the tide had turned grim, the Crusader rushed the goblins, hoping to break their formation and slay their shaman or chieftain, and throw them into chaos. Unfortunately, this brave act didn't have the effect he desired, and although he savagely wounded the shaman, he was brought down by the many spears of the goblins who had encircled him. The Elf, who had since reloaded and moved up, saw the Crusader collapse among the green skinned foes, made a fateful decision. The Dwarf, for his part, knowing that things were all but lost, waded in while the goblin formation was disrupted, and extracted the Crusader.
It was this moment that the Elf had waited for. He charged. And as he ran into the teeth of the goblin spears, he lit fuses, fired his
And so ends Part IV. Continued in Part V.
*The module I used for the mine was Gold in the Hills, which can be found on the Basic Fantasy RPG website. It's free! Check it out.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Spies and Pirates, Part III
Where we last left off, our titular spies were stranded in a temperate forest, on an island in the the eye of a storm, crawling with pirates, unseen dangers, and an insane immortal sorcerer.
They took their leave of the camp, after burying the talisman that had allowed them to traverse the storm, overturning the dinghy, and covering the whole thing with the dinghy's canvass (and a liberal layer of branches). Their first foray into the forest led them northerly, and after a long damp trek, they set up camp once again.
However, their barrel of salt pork managed to attract one of the handful of bears that hadn't yet gone into hibernation. Looming out of the darkness and grunting and growling to himself, the bear advanced on the camp where the party slept - all save for dwarf, on watch with a brace of pistols. Considering our dwarf's player has had some unfortunate run-ins with bears in games of the past, and lets be fair, a hungry bear is not the most fun thing to encounter in the dark.
Potentially afflicted with flashbacks to a certain 5e game where his poor monk was slain by a starving, emaciated bear, our dwarf's player informs us he's taking aim at the dark shape and firing.
There's a curious (and enjoyable) little bit of rules in LotFP where firearms cause a morale check. It was this, more than any damage that was caused that deterred the bear, and aside from the thunder of flintlocks, the rest of the night was less exciting.
In the morning they set out between some hills, skirting both the mountains to the West and the coast on the East. As afternoon crept upon them, they began to find fields being worked by the smallfolk of Aldentown. By evening, they'd reached the town proper, and had entered Aldentown's single establishment, the Moosefoot Inn.
Continued in Part IV.
They took their leave of the camp, after burying the talisman that had allowed them to traverse the storm, overturning the dinghy, and covering the whole thing with the dinghy's canvass (and a liberal layer of branches). Their first foray into the forest led them northerly, and after a long damp trek, they set up camp once again.
However, their barrel of salt pork managed to attract one of the handful of bears that hadn't yet gone into hibernation. Looming out of the darkness and grunting and growling to himself, the bear advanced on the camp where the party slept - all save for dwarf, on watch with a brace of pistols. Considering our dwarf's player has had some unfortunate run-ins with bears in games of the past, and lets be fair, a hungry bear is not the most fun thing to encounter in the dark.
Potentially afflicted with flashbacks to a certain 5e game where his poor monk was slain by a starving, emaciated bear, our dwarf's player informs us he's taking aim at the dark shape and firing.
There's a curious (and enjoyable) little bit of rules in LotFP where firearms cause a morale check. It was this, more than any damage that was caused that deterred the bear, and aside from the thunder of flintlocks, the rest of the night was less exciting.
In the morning they set out between some hills, skirting both the mountains to the West and the coast on the East. As afternoon crept upon them, they began to find fields being worked by the smallfolk of Aldentown. By evening, they'd reached the town proper, and had entered Aldentown's single establishment, the Moosefoot Inn.
Continued in Part IV.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Spies and Pirates, Part II
When we got together the next week available week, we decided to continue the story of the Clovinian spies.
A piece of news from the first mate while he was sharing a smoke with the party dwarf was that the flashes of lightning against the grey storm front were birds being struck out of the sky. I'm fairly certain that bit of information was chilling, or at the very least, sobering. It certainly hastened the party's plans.
Our elf is something of a mastermind of mayhem. He decided, almost unilaterally, that what they needed to do was steal whatever talisman allowed the pirates to enter the storm unharmed, sabotage the armory, steal a dinghy, and row to the island while the sabotage set off the powder and turned the ship into so much driftwood.
The rest of the party was definitely okay with this plan, judging by their enthusiasm. Our dwarf continued to get cozy with the first mate, smoking in front of the hatches that led to the passenger and officer's cabins in the aft of the ship. Partially as a distraction, partially as a lookout. The crusader went to the galley in order to question the cook about provisions, and discovered where the barrels of salt pork were kept. Meanwhile, the specialist invaded the captain's cabin in search of the talisman.
It wasn't difficult to enter, and the search was only mildly time consuming. At the bottom of the captain's sea chest was a cannon ball with a deeply incised circle of symbols etched into it. Knowing he could be discovered at any minute, the specialist retreated and tried to re-lock the door from the outside (just to be clear, it's not the sort of modern door locks we're used to. Without the key, it can't easily be locked from the outside). However, he had run out of time as the first mate came down from the poop deck to get some charts. Thankfully, the dwarf kicked the door with his heel to let the specialist know someone was coming, and he beat a quick retreat to the passenger cabins.
Thankfully, the first mate was a busy man, and while he did notice the door to the captain's cabin was unlocked, he reasoned that he himself had been careless and left it unlocked, rather than suspecting that someone had malicious intent. It's possible I was being too easy on the group, but I figured even pirates would be unlikely to be suspicious of paying passengers, and wouldn't be terribly likely to start keelhauling everyone because a door that was supposed to be locked wasn't.
I did however, make a mental note that any other such activities would alert the pirates to foul play.
The specialist, the elf, the dwarf, and the crusader updated each other on what they'd discovered, and they decided they needed to figure out some way to set the armory ablaze, steal some supplies, steal the cannon ball, and then steal a dinghy.
Some ideas were bandied about, such as using oil to light the passenger cabin ablaze (it shared a wall with the magazine), but ultimately, they decided they needed to steal an auger from the ship's carpentry shop. So, the dwarf went looking for the shop while the crusader acquired their provisions. The elf and specialist took another crack at the captain's cabin.
The specialist got in, while the elf stood lookout at the hatch leading into the passageway that led to the cabins. Unfortunately for them, the pirate captain had come down to get some shut eye before entering the storm. Thinking quickly, the elf ran him through and manhandled the captain's dying form into his own cabin, and then he and the specialist retrieved the cannon ball (after a judicious use of read magic to ensure that the markings weren't just gibberish to confound the foolish). The elf made sure to lock the captain's cabin with the man's own key. The specialist looted the place of coin, but also snagged some letters of credit, and the deed to the Listing Lady.
When the crusader and the dwarf returned, they set about boring a hole in the passenger cabin's wall, and managed to be lucky enough to be right next to a barrel of gunpowder. With a length of fuse and some fire, the plan went into high gear. What they did next was cause a distraction by setting fire to the captain's cabin. They then piled out of the aft section of the ship, and told the pirates on deck there was a fire!
This cleared the poop out pretty fast, and the only one left up there was the rather unlucky pilot. The party used their pistols to intimidate him, and set about dropping a dinghy from the rear of the ship. Bound, gagged, and unconscious, the pilot was incapable of warning his comrades. They got about a few hundred feet from the Listing Lady before she was smashed to tinder by the armory going up. With that grisly work done, they rowed to the island during the night, hoping the cannon ball was indeed their savior.
It turned out their gamble had paid off, but during the night and early morning, flashes of lightning behind them were a grim reminder that anyone who had survived the ship's sinking had been consigned to an unpleasant death. On landfall, they set about making camp and interrogating their prisoner for everything he knew about the island. Then the crusader hanged him for his crime of piracy.
And so ends Part II. Continued in Part III.
A piece of news from the first mate while he was sharing a smoke with the party dwarf was that the flashes of lightning against the grey storm front were birds being struck out of the sky. I'm fairly certain that bit of information was chilling, or at the very least, sobering. It certainly hastened the party's plans.
Our elf is something of a mastermind of mayhem. He decided, almost unilaterally, that what they needed to do was steal whatever talisman allowed the pirates to enter the storm unharmed, sabotage the armory, steal a dinghy, and row to the island while the sabotage set off the powder and turned the ship into so much driftwood.
The rest of the party was definitely okay with this plan, judging by their enthusiasm. Our dwarf continued to get cozy with the first mate, smoking in front of the hatches that led to the passenger and officer's cabins in the aft of the ship. Partially as a distraction, partially as a lookout. The crusader went to the galley in order to question the cook about provisions, and discovered where the barrels of salt pork were kept. Meanwhile, the specialist invaded the captain's cabin in search of the talisman.
It wasn't difficult to enter, and the search was only mildly time consuming. At the bottom of the captain's sea chest was a cannon ball with a deeply incised circle of symbols etched into it. Knowing he could be discovered at any minute, the specialist retreated and tried to re-lock the door from the outside (just to be clear, it's not the sort of modern door locks we're used to. Without the key, it can't easily be locked from the outside). However, he had run out of time as the first mate came down from the poop deck to get some charts. Thankfully, the dwarf kicked the door with his heel to let the specialist know someone was coming, and he beat a quick retreat to the passenger cabins.
Thankfully, the first mate was a busy man, and while he did notice the door to the captain's cabin was unlocked, he reasoned that he himself had been careless and left it unlocked, rather than suspecting that someone had malicious intent. It's possible I was being too easy on the group, but I figured even pirates would be unlikely to be suspicious of paying passengers, and wouldn't be terribly likely to start keelhauling everyone because a door that was supposed to be locked wasn't.
I did however, make a mental note that any other such activities would alert the pirates to foul play.
The specialist, the elf, the dwarf, and the crusader updated each other on what they'd discovered, and they decided they needed to figure out some way to set the armory ablaze, steal some supplies, steal the cannon ball, and then steal a dinghy.
Some ideas were bandied about, such as using oil to light the passenger cabin ablaze (it shared a wall with the magazine), but ultimately, they decided they needed to steal an auger from the ship's carpentry shop. So, the dwarf went looking for the shop while the crusader acquired their provisions. The elf and specialist took another crack at the captain's cabin.
The specialist got in, while the elf stood lookout at the hatch leading into the passageway that led to the cabins. Unfortunately for them, the pirate captain had come down to get some shut eye before entering the storm. Thinking quickly, the elf ran him through and manhandled the captain's dying form into his own cabin, and then he and the specialist retrieved the cannon ball (after a judicious use of read magic to ensure that the markings weren't just gibberish to confound the foolish). The elf made sure to lock the captain's cabin with the man's own key. The specialist looted the place of coin, but also snagged some letters of credit, and the deed to the Listing Lady.
When the crusader and the dwarf returned, they set about boring a hole in the passenger cabin's wall, and managed to be lucky enough to be right next to a barrel of gunpowder. With a length of fuse and some fire, the plan went into high gear. What they did next was cause a distraction by setting fire to the captain's cabin. They then piled out of the aft section of the ship, and told the pirates on deck there was a fire!
This cleared the poop out pretty fast, and the only one left up there was the rather unlucky pilot. The party used their pistols to intimidate him, and set about dropping a dinghy from the rear of the ship. Bound, gagged, and unconscious, the pilot was incapable of warning his comrades. They got about a few hundred feet from the Listing Lady before she was smashed to tinder by the armory going up. With that grisly work done, they rowed to the island during the night, hoping the cannon ball was indeed their savior.
It turned out their gamble had paid off, but during the night and early morning, flashes of lightning behind them were a grim reminder that anyone who had survived the ship's sinking had been consigned to an unpleasant death. On landfall, they set about making camp and interrogating their prisoner for everything he knew about the island. Then the crusader hanged him for his crime of piracy.
And so ends Part II. Continued in Part III.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Spies and Pirates, Part I
This post is essentially just story time. If you're not really into hearing about how a fistful of grown men played pretend for a couple of evenings, you might want to skip this one; but that begs the question, aside from satisfying your own curiosity, why are you here? This is a blog about roleplaying games, which is almost always about adults playing pretend.
Anyway, some weeks ago we had just gotten back together after one of our regular players had gotten married and gone on their honeymoon (congrats J & C). I was somewhat frazzled because of home life, and we've been trying to make time to play Lamentations of the Flame Princess a little more regularly. Now, I'm sure some of you know the reputation, but I'm not running it "as intended". I like that it's a streamlined version of B/X D&D, and that's how I've been running it, with a little help from the AD&D 1e DMG, plus some Basic Fantasy RPG monsters.
In previous sessions, I'd set the game in a country called Clovina, loosely inspired by France before the revolution. For this game, everyone made new characters, and they decided to be quite a diverse cast of characters:
Yes. That's right. Offered. I don't like strong-arming my players into doing anything they don't want to do. I offered them the hook, and let them take it if they wanted. My players are great, they played along. The idea of being spies for an early modern government proved to be a neat enough idea. Either that or they were just being nice.
Having taken their leaders up on the mission, they reported to a tavern not only to meet one another for the first time, but to receive their orders and their appropriate documents for the times ahead. Introductions were fun as everyone was stepping into their character's shoes and working out their personalities.
The mission was straightforward: From a port on a nearby island, pirates had been raiding the Clovinian coast for decades. The current king wished them disposed of, but the navy was unable to strike at the buccaneers due to the presence of a supernatural storm which destroyed any ships approaching the island. By means unknown, the pirates were able to pass through. The group's mission would be to infiltrate the island, discover the means by which the pirates were able to traverse the storm, and (if possible) kill the wizard who was known to have created the storm in the first place.
Over the course of some questions about the documents, their knowledge of history, and some bits of pieces of information their leaders had said, I think that everyone had a clear view of the island and both its history and current status:
In our first session, they left the capital and went to one of the big sea ports. There, they scoped out the docks and the ships. Some pointed questions yielded up the answer they needed. The Listing Lady was in port, and was by reputation, one of the ships they needed. The elf sounded out the crew and captain, while the specialist decided to investigate the warehouse the pirates were loading their cargo into. Most of what he discovered was mundane things, like crates of firs. But, in one box he discovered a small chest (about the size of a cashbox) with a number of purple vials, unlabeled.
Believe me, he was itching to try them out, but was afraid of the consequences. Taking his prize, he returned to the party. The next morning, they boarded the Listing Lady and set sail. Most of the trip was them scouting out the ship as best they could, and sounding out the crew for just what fabulous magic could allow them to sail through the coming storm.
The first session ended around this point. Continued in Part II.
Anyway, some weeks ago we had just gotten back together after one of our regular players had gotten married and gone on their honeymoon (congrats J & C). I was somewhat frazzled because of home life, and we've been trying to make time to play Lamentations of the Flame Princess a little more regularly. Now, I'm sure some of you know the reputation, but I'm not running it "as intended". I like that it's a streamlined version of B/X D&D, and that's how I've been running it, with a little help from the AD&D 1e DMG, plus some Basic Fantasy RPG monsters.
In previous sessions, I'd set the game in a country called Clovina, loosely inspired by France before the revolution. For this game, everyone made new characters, and they decided to be quite a diverse cast of characters:
- A holy man turned crusader, wielding fire and steel for his fiery god of industry. Mechanically a Cleric.
- A dwarf from an allied hold in the northern part of Clovina among the only real mountains in the country. In service to the dwarven embassy in the capital.
- A man who has served as part of the Foreign Office run by the king of Clovina's younger brother. Essentially a combination diplomat and spy. Mechanically a Specialist.
- An elf nobleman whose age and love of drink had given him something of an unhurried outlook on life.
Yes. That's right. Offered. I don't like strong-arming my players into doing anything they don't want to do. I offered them the hook, and let them take it if they wanted. My players are great, they played along. The idea of being spies for an early modern government proved to be a neat enough idea. Either that or they were just being nice.
Having taken their leaders up on the mission, they reported to a tavern not only to meet one another for the first time, but to receive their orders and their appropriate documents for the times ahead. Introductions were fun as everyone was stepping into their character's shoes and working out their personalities.
The mission was straightforward: From a port on a nearby island, pirates had been raiding the Clovinian coast for decades. The current king wished them disposed of, but the navy was unable to strike at the buccaneers due to the presence of a supernatural storm which destroyed any ships approaching the island. By means unknown, the pirates were able to pass through. The group's mission would be to infiltrate the island, discover the means by which the pirates were able to traverse the storm, and (if possible) kill the wizard who was known to have created the storm in the first place.
Over the course of some questions about the documents, their knowledge of history, and some bits of pieces of information their leaders had said, I think that everyone had a clear view of the island and both its history and current status:
- The island had never been part of Clovina, and the natives had resisted vigorously against them, to the point that their Queen had invaded the mainland many hundreds of years before.
- A wizard (of indeterminate age) had settled there later looking for the legendary Queen's tomb, which was rumored to contain fabulous riches, and more importantly, lost and terrible magic.
- Raiders had come to use one of the island's sheltered bays as a port, or they had sprung up from the existing unconquered population. Which was unclear. What was clear however, was that the raiders had struck some sort of deal with the wizard. In return for unknown pledges, promises, or goods, the wizard had conjured a powerful storm and granted the captains of the raider ships magic of some sort that allowed them to bypass the storm.
In our first session, they left the capital and went to one of the big sea ports. There, they scoped out the docks and the ships. Some pointed questions yielded up the answer they needed. The Listing Lady was in port, and was by reputation, one of the ships they needed. The elf sounded out the crew and captain, while the specialist decided to investigate the warehouse the pirates were loading their cargo into. Most of what he discovered was mundane things, like crates of firs. But, in one box he discovered a small chest (about the size of a cashbox) with a number of purple vials, unlabeled.
Believe me, he was itching to try them out, but was afraid of the consequences. Taking his prize, he returned to the party. The next morning, they boarded the Listing Lady and set sail. Most of the trip was them scouting out the ship as best they could, and sounding out the crew for just what fabulous magic could allow them to sail through the coming storm.
The first session ended around this point. Continued in Part II.
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