Our crew assembled and gear purchased, we were ready to go. It was decided that Wang had made his way to Dixie in the last days before the surrender in an attempt to chase a fortune that never quite materialized. When The surrender was signed and Hegemony troops took over, he decided the political climate was no longer in his favor and hopped aboard the first ship heading anywhere but there. As luck so happens, it was mine. We'd flown together a couple weeks before we picked up Doc. We still don't know what his story is, but he was in an awful hurry to get off that station. You can tell in a man's eyes whether they're running to something or away from it. Doc was definitely the latter. We needed the extra hand though, so we welcomed him aboard. Might be nice to have someone patch us up when we need it.
Our first session was going to be easy, right? It was a simple milk run. A previous contact of Wang's named Mr. Daws from the Rabani sector wanted us to visit a Maxwell Aldo. There was some kind of corporate exchange going down with everything in escrow. All we needed was to pick up a hard copy of some sensitive data and make it back. Pick it up, drop it off. We walk away with 200,000 credits. What could possibly go wrong? (Please, contain your laughter!)
Spike drive engaged. We came out of transit just outside the planet's gravity well. It was this massive, fancy-ass bureaucratic nightmare. The space port was a giant glass dome with one major exit/entryway. Space ships were lined up like ants trying to get in. The docking attendant chimed in on comms, asking us about the nature of our business planetside. She seemed to get annoyed when I give the name of our contact as Jonathon Doe. It took about two hours from the time we talk to customer service to the time we're cleared a spot to land. Government at work, ladies and gentlemen.
We managed to land without issue. I decided to go low-profile, meaning that I was only carrying the derringer (Savannah) in my waistcoat pocket, the Dixie toothpick in a sling under my armpit, and the big iron low on one hip. With my coat, it was all covered up nicely. Practically stealth mode. The rest of the crew takes a similar tact, with the Doc stuffing a shotgun under his coat. Wang decided to leave the grenades at home, opting instead for his stun baton (apparently, his only options are "nonlethal" and "overkill"). Outside, we were greeted by a docking engineer who asked if we needed any station services -- refueling, maintenance, etc.
"Could use a carton of cigarettes." Moraine is clearly a smoker, he'd been a week in transit, and I'm sure as hell not trusting the fire suppressor on our rust bucket.
"Uh. I'm.. Sorry Sir.. I'm an engineer, not a stewardess."
"..The hell use are you?" My 17 Charisma shined through.
We hop a cab and make our way to the location. Aldo's was a big warehouse in the shipping district. It's a giant reinforced brick building, completely unadorned but for the sign with his name above. A huge steel security door is built into the wall beside an obvious intercom panel. There are no windows. Promising.
We buzzed in. The guy on the other side had no idea who we are or why we were here. We eventually ask for Maxwell Aldo by name and tell him we are supposed to make a pickup. He disappeared for a few minutes before the door opened and some Pink Water security goons show up to greet us. A man with a voice matching the intercom guy greets us and tells us that he's sorry about the mix-up, and offered to escort us to a waiting room. I'm itchy already, but we go.
The waiting room was down a roundabout hall or two, but was ultimately what you'd expect out of a mid-level corporate break room. A bunch of uncomfortable chairs, some old coffee, bottles of water, some fruit in a bowl, and a couple magazines. Wang dove straight for the food because we've been eating nothing but protein-sludge for three weeks now. Doc takes a seat and flipped open a magazine. As soon as the guards are gone, I immediately go for the door -- Locked. "Son of a bitch."
"They probably don't want us wandering around." Wang is trying to be helpful. Really.
"Don't cotton much to cages. I've been locked up long enough." I spent nearly two hours pacing my happy-ass back and forth along the low-maintenance grey area rug. Just when it seemed like I might be contemplating blowing the door off its hinges, Wang chimes in again.
"Calm down, Bo--" his line is interrupted by boots running in our direction. I turn to face the door from my left, to obscure the play I'm already making for my piece. The door swings open and red dots pan up the floor and the across the wall behind us. One of the goons takes a knee and disengages the safety on his SMG just in time for a .44 caliber hole to open up in the front of his skull. Big iron, big bullets. He goes down like someone flipped a switch. The goon behind him took a graze to the hip where the round over-penetrated through the first man into the second. Wang was on top of him in an instant with the stun baton, rendering him unconscious. The doc finished the job with a shotgun blast to the face. Gnarly.
"So much for the milk run."
Doc and Wang grabbed their SMGs and strap up. I wound up going for the walkie talkie on his chest rig. A few seconds later, the asshole from the intercom out front chirped through. "Heard shots. Report in. Were they taken care of?" I spammed the button while replying to give the impression the thing was malfunctioning. "Ta-" click "ermin" click "rep" click "firmative." I clip the radio to my waistcoat and replace a shell in my revolver. We need to move.
We took a wrong turn and end up in the warehouse proper. There were boxes and crates everywhere. I wound up asking Wang if he has any idea what the thing we're looking for looks like.
"Uh, it's easy. It's a <fucking technobabble.>"
As I stood there with a single-action revolver in my hand, "Do I look like I know what a <fucking technobabble, repeated phonetically> is?"
"...Right boss, I'll get looking."
"You've got two minutes, son. Make it quick."
Everyone was making search checks, looking through boxes. I wound up having a moment of thought and asked the GM "Can I make a tactics roll? I want a defensible position?" "uh.. Sure!" The resulting roll was silly high. I found a sturdy table and what appeared to be the sort of steel plates you'd expect to reinforce a wall with. My two companions turn suddenly and in some horror at the ridiculous clatter of me kicking the whole thing over.
"What are you do--" The objection was cut off by a deafening burst of automatic fire as more security entered the room. A bunch of shots were exchanged in an intense standoff, with my now-reinforced table absorbing a lot of oncoming fire. There were four men in chest rigs and what appeared to be the head of security in full combat armor. One of the mooks winged me in the shoulder with their SMG. Banter ensues which ultimately results in said mook getting focus-fired on by the rest of the group until he got his head unzipped from a three-round burst from our side. I managed to plug another dude in the chest with my revolver and the other two mooks hauled ass out of the warehouse, shouting that they were not being paid enough for this.
The head of security seemed like he was taking this whole thing rather personally, and opened up another burst, this time catching Wang in the stomach and in the process managed to take the pinky and ring finger off one hand. We call him 8-ball now. Doc finally gets a shot through the guy's armor, dropping him low. I walked up and put a bullet in his stomach out of spite.
Doc jumped on 8 Ball with a Lazarus pack. He was bleeding bad. We have no idea where his fingers got off to. Deke's player got two of the worst rolls I've ever seen and seemed to be reliving some kind of traumatic episode involving the last time he lost a patient. I ran over and shoved him out of the way. I have no medicine skill, but with a shockingly good roll I managed to get him stabilized. "Ain't you never seen a bullet wound before?" (It's no wonder that mobster's daughter died.)
The doc stammered and helplessly shrugged.
8-Ball was still conscious and tried to tell us to keep looking for the thing. I turned to the doc "You have any idea what he's yammerin' on about?"
Deke's player turns to the GM "..Uh. I have points in science. Do I have any idea what he's talking about?"
"Yes."
"I totally know what he's talking about."
"Get to it then while I drag his sorry ass out of here."
Doc went off exploring. I started trying to get 8-Ball back down the winding corridor to the exit. Doc managed to find the guy we were sent here to deal with in the first place. Aldo is sitting at his desk with a revolver leveled and ready. Unsurprisingly, he demanded to know why we were here. Doc attempted to explain the gist as best as he understood it, and that it was supposed to be a simple pickup before, you know, the goons.
"You've murdered four men."
"To be fair, they shot at us first."
"..What will it take to get rid of you?"
"Uhhh." Doc actually opened up a channel with our compads to call me on the other side of the building. In the most amazing "let me let you talk to my manager" moment I've ever seen, he explained the situation and then puts me on speaker phone with the guy. This whole thing has apparently been absurd enough to make Aldo require a cigarette. He apparently smokes some dainty-ass Imperial Slim crap.
I finally make my initial offer. "Three hundred thousand credits... and a carton of cigarettes."
"Two hundred thousand credits... and a carton of cigarettes."
"...Two-hundred and fifty thousand credits, and two cartons of cigarettes."
He sighed. "Two-hundred and fifty thousand credits, two cartons of cigarettes, and I never hear from you again?"
"You'll forget we were ever here."
He digs through a drawer and fishes out a disposable credit chip. "You've got ten minutes after I hand over this chip before I call the cops."
"Make it twenty and you can keep a carton of cigarettes."
"...Done."
Doc collected the carton of Imperial Slims and the chips and goes off to find me. Aldo returned to work like nothing happened.
We meet up just outside the place. The two run-away security guards were outside on their phones. I handed one of them a $50 chip.
"Reckon you boys are out of a job. Fifty credits in it for you if you cut that sumbitch's phone line in the next ten minutes."
"Dude.. you killed Steve."
"Steve was an asshole, son."
The other guard chimes in. "... Steve was an asshole."
They agreed right as the cab showed up.
We wound up telling the cabbie that we were mugged. He bemoaned the state of the shipping district this time of evening. I offered him a double tip if he can get us to the space port fast. We cleaned up in the car. By the time we made it there, we still look worse for the wear but we've downgraded our traumatic appearance from "lost a gunfight" to "maybe traded even in a bar fight."
We managed to get through customs fairly quickly and get back on the ship. We're granted clearance to leave just as I got settled in. That's when Doc handed me the goods. "What kind of asshole smokes Imperial Slims? I should've shot that sumbitch when I had the chance."
The ships comms chime in. "Tyrant's crew, you are free for takeoff."
8-Ball is our pilot, but he wasn't looking so hot. I can fly in a pinch, so I asked him if he wanted me to take over.
"Boss, me on my worst day is better than you on your best."
"...Remember who plugged them holes in your hide, son."
"... Sorry, Boss. You know what I mea--" a failed flight roll, due to all the penalties from, you know, bleeding out. We manage to clip the giant dome on our way up, sending a section of shattered glass and crumbling structure raining on anyone unfortunate enough to be below.
The ships comms chime in -- would you like to accept the call?
"Uh. Shit."
8-Ball immediately goes "No! I got this." He hits the button to accept and then immediately hangs up. "Tyrant's Fear di---" click.
The ships comms chime in -- would you like to accept the call?
"Tyrant's F--" click.
The ships comms chime in -- would you like to accept the call?
"TYRA---" click.
Klaxons are screaming. The ship's computer kindly informs us that we are being painted by targeting lasers. Doc is stammering. "CAN WE GO? NOW? PLEASE?"
"POINT US AT RABANI!" I bark.
We're approaching maximum acceleration as we fight to get out of atmosphere. A little warning signal is beeping on the console. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep beep beep beep beepbeepBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP -- TARGET LOCKED.
We break out of the gravity well.
PUNCH IT. We're gone. The klaxons vanish. The computer goes silence. I manage to utter the closing line of "We need to have a talk with Mr. Daws."
And so ended our first session.
Showing posts with label Actual Play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Actual Play. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
The Tyrant's Crew (A Stars Without Number Campaign Report)
Last night Barbarossa got to experience his first time GMing, and it was my first experience with the OSR space opera Stars Without Number. If you're not familiar, SWN is basically what happens when Moldvay Basic gets drunk at a party and starts making sexy grog-eyes at an edition of Traveler whose has had too many shots to know better. Nine months later, Stars Without Number is born.
To Barb's credit, he was informed that he would be GMing all of four hours before the actual session and he did spectacularly well with it. He's easily the most well-read sci-fi nerd in our group, and you could tell even just from the way he handled it that he loved the material he was working with. Superb.
We went for a very predictable "Baby's first space opera" campaign. We are to the be the crew of a tramp freighter smuggling, shipping, and doing odd jobs just to stay afloat in this harsh galaxy. Oh. We're playing Firefly? We're playing Firefly. Sweet.
Ironically, Barb was never a fan of firefly ("Their system makes no fucking sense. That's not how asteroids work"). I know one of the other players refuses to watch it because it was never finished ("I don't watch unfinished shows") and if the third watched it, he didn't seem to get anything out of it.
The starting crew was three players, including myself. Unsurprisingly, I was nominated to be the captain before we even started. The ship was also assumed to have been mine off the bat as well, so I rolled with it. In no particular order, our characters of note:
George Wang: a bright young Caucasian man adopted by an ethnically and culturally Chinese family from a settlement whose name I have since forgotten (uh, sorry, Boose). He should have had a promising life and career ahead of him, except he dropped out of college to pursue a life of petty crime—apparently just because it seemed more interesting. He's a decent pilot, though, so he's been useful aboard ship.
Deke Sun: an ex-mob doc who is now on the run after an attempt on the boss's life found his former employer's daughter instead. The wound was mortal, and there was nothing to be done. She died on the table. Rather than face the possibility that it was a life of crime that cost his daughter her life, the mob boss has externalized the blame and placed it solely on Deke's shoulders for killing her.
Then there's me.
Donnal Moraine: basically the stereotype of the post-war confederate. Hails from a backwoods planet that was recently brought under compliance in a brutal brush war with the Hegemony of Man. By group consensus (and for pure hilarity) this planet was named Dixie. The fighting was bitter on both sides. While Hegemony forces could have glassed the entire system from orbit if they chose, they wanted to dominate the system, not eradicate it. Native militia put up a strong resistance with a guerilla campaign, but eventually the toll on both the population and infrastructure was too great. A surrender was negotiated and a blanket pardon granted. Donnal was a kind of airborn infantry and lost everything during the war. He was one of a large number of ex-militia who still feel a seething resentment for the Hegemony, and a betrayal at the hands of the cowards in charge who surrendered. He now wanders the stars with his ship as the only home he knows.
As though this archetype wasn't quite strong enough yet, when I purchased his gear he wound up getting: Leather Jack, Dagger, Revolver, Rifle. This quickly got recorded on the character sheet as Leather Duster, Dixie Toothpick, Big Iron, 'Ol' Bess' Lever-Action Repeater.
I'll play Firefly by myself if I have to.
The Tyrant's Fear: Our ship is a horrific rust bucket that my character came by in a way that wasn't quite established yet, though I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't acquired in a game of cards with a dark-skinned gentleman with an Armenian name. It's a real piece of work. In Boose's words "Hot Garbage." They don't know what they're talking about. She's cozy. So what if some of the wires are fraying... Some of those panels don't quite shut anymore... Or we don't have enough power to run our offensive lasers and point defense gun at the same time? Whatever. It's fine. She's home.
UPDATE: The campaign has now been added to the Actual Play Reports widget on the side. You can check out the index here.
To Barb's credit, he was informed that he would be GMing all of four hours before the actual session and he did spectacularly well with it. He's easily the most well-read sci-fi nerd in our group, and you could tell even just from the way he handled it that he loved the material he was working with. Superb.
Part 1: Dramatis Personae
We went for a very predictable "Baby's first space opera" campaign. We are to the be the crew of a tramp freighter smuggling, shipping, and doing odd jobs just to stay afloat in this harsh galaxy. Oh. We're playing Firefly? We're playing Firefly. Sweet.
Ironically, Barb was never a fan of firefly ("Their system makes no fucking sense. That's not how asteroids work"). I know one of the other players refuses to watch it because it was never finished ("I don't watch unfinished shows") and if the third watched it, he didn't seem to get anything out of it.
The starting crew was three players, including myself. Unsurprisingly, I was nominated to be the captain before we even started. The ship was also assumed to have been mine off the bat as well, so I rolled with it. In no particular order, our characters of note:
George Wang: a bright young Caucasian man adopted by an ethnically and culturally Chinese family from a settlement whose name I have since forgotten (uh, sorry, Boose). He should have had a promising life and career ahead of him, except he dropped out of college to pursue a life of petty crime—apparently just because it seemed more interesting. He's a decent pilot, though, so he's been useful aboard ship.
Deke Sun: an ex-mob doc who is now on the run after an attempt on the boss's life found his former employer's daughter instead. The wound was mortal, and there was nothing to be done. She died on the table. Rather than face the possibility that it was a life of crime that cost his daughter her life, the mob boss has externalized the blame and placed it solely on Deke's shoulders for killing her.
Then there's me.
Donnal Moraine: basically the stereotype of the post-war confederate. Hails from a backwoods planet that was recently brought under compliance in a brutal brush war with the Hegemony of Man. By group consensus (and for pure hilarity) this planet was named Dixie. The fighting was bitter on both sides. While Hegemony forces could have glassed the entire system from orbit if they chose, they wanted to dominate the system, not eradicate it. Native militia put up a strong resistance with a guerilla campaign, but eventually the toll on both the population and infrastructure was too great. A surrender was negotiated and a blanket pardon granted. Donnal was a kind of airborn infantry and lost everything during the war. He was one of a large number of ex-militia who still feel a seething resentment for the Hegemony, and a betrayal at the hands of the cowards in charge who surrendered. He now wanders the stars with his ship as the only home he knows.
As though this archetype wasn't quite strong enough yet, when I purchased his gear he wound up getting: Leather Jack, Dagger, Revolver, Rifle. This quickly got recorded on the character sheet as Leather Duster, Dixie Toothpick, Big Iron, 'Ol' Bess' Lever-Action Repeater.
I'll play Firefly by myself if I have to.
The Tyrant's Fear: Our ship is a horrific rust bucket that my character came by in a way that wasn't quite established yet, though I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't acquired in a game of cards with a dark-skinned gentleman with an Armenian name. It's a real piece of work. In Boose's words "Hot Garbage." They don't know what they're talking about. She's cozy. So what if some of the wires are fraying... Some of those panels don't quite shut anymore... Or we don't have enough power to run our offensive lasers and point defense gun at the same time? Whatever. It's fine. She's home.
UPDATE: The campaign has now been added to the Actual Play Reports widget on the side. You can check out the index here.
Monday, March 30, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 7 - An Eye for Adventure
It was a day's travel to arrive before the fortified gates of Haganna. It was late evening and the guards stood in place to block their entry. It was quickly revealed that the mayor had issued a decree that orcs were forbidden to enter the city. The party wound up improvising and with the assistance of the party bard Cunnin managed to convince the guards that they were on a mission to deliver this human girl to someone inside the town. A quick bribe changed hands, and they were shown around to a side entrance, handed robes, and given the instructions to not be seen and to be gone within 24 hours.
They snuck in quickly and made their way to the market square. I basically asked if Cunnin (being a thief) could case the area and see if anything looked shady, like they were doing dirt (a fence, a fake front, etc) i.e. Someone that would do business with illegal orcs. After a bit of RP and an intelligence roll, they located just the sort.
Some brief negotiations later, they managed to unload some trade goods and spoils in exchange for hard currency and some additional supplies. We also acquired some new information:
The town guard was nervous over elven raids on the roads. We heard further rumors of an elf-queen, and that the elves weren't just robbing the travelers but kidnapping them. Only one person had managed to return alive, and he had kind of lost his mind. "Doomsday Dave," they called him. He apparently wanders around as a homeless person now.
The merchant handed over a bag of coins, but as he was turning to leave Cunnin poured them out and counted them - and found the bag short of the promised amount. Taz and Justice moved into position behind the merchant, who quickly threw his remaining coins at Cunnin and ran off.
About this time, the guards entered the market square and it became obvious that the rest of the merchants had already left. The party made themselves scarce before they were noticed - but not before Cunnin took the opportunity to nick back an item they had traded: one golden pickaxe that he had been reluctant to sell in the first place.
From there, they managed to find an Inn in the seedy side of town: The Flail and Sail.
As it turned out, the bartender was a giant of a man named Bjorn, about the size of many of the orcish party members. From a bit of conversation, he had a mercenary past and spoke a good bit of Orcish - something that has been something of an issue in this campaign, as many of the NPCs we have encountered only spoke common. [ed: this is slowly being rectified, as Cunnin is having Tuska teach Raph and Justice common while she's learning Orcish] Some drinks were had and ultimately negotiations were made for them to stay in town and stay there for the evening.
There were some friendly jabs thrown back and forth between party members as the orcs had some drinks and decided to unwind. After butting heads with Justice, Cunnin decided to retire early and went upstairs to his room with Tuska - giving the young girl further lessons in orcish and instilling in her proper tribal ethos.
Downstairs, Justice had a bit much to drink and wound up having a long heartfelt discussion with Raph. Taz watched on, nursing his own drink, somewhat bewildered by the whole thing. As the discussion heated up downstairs, Justice was spurred to action with the realization - we need to have a group meeting!
Cunnin was roused from his slumber and stumbled down the stairs. After a brief but fruitless attempt to explain to the bartender the concept of coffee, Cunnin settled down with his pipe and the strongest "you woke me up for this shit?" face he could muster.
Justice poured forth from his weary heart all of the concerns and confusions from their journey together so far. Ultimately, the discussion boiled down to: Who are we? What are we? Cast from their previous tribe, their relations were unknown. Justice was all but cast out from the original tribe, effectively an exile. Cunnin's reasons for leaving were largely unknown and Raph was just following Cunnin. Taz? We're not sure. When we met him he was having an intimiate moment with a tree he claimed was a dryad just moment's before we showed up. We're never sure about Taz. Then we have this human child. What is she to us?
Are we a group of people who just happen to be traveling together? Are we a tribe?
After some time, Cunnin finally responded with this: That in his mind, they had been a tribe since the moment they set forth - that everything he had done thus far had been about the tribe, for the tribe. And even that he counted the tiny human as part of their tribe now. She is ours. She is part of us.
Some further debate reconciled the remaining issues. Born of the priestly caste, Justice had a need for structure and hierarchy and finally appointed Cunnin Orkis Inter Pares, Ork Among Equals and defacto warboss when they were on a raid. At other times, they would settle matters via egalitarian tribal democracy, with each member of age (sorry Tuska) having a vote, decided by majority.
With those basic agreements settled upon, Taz voiced a concern about the limits of Warboss authority within an egalitarian electoral tribal leadership. If the time came and someone had to lay their life down for the tribe, would the warboss be allowed to give that order? To decide who lives and who dies?
In response, Justice rose. "I don't think you understand what's going on here. I need you to understand how important this is, the kind of sacrifice you need to be willing to give for your tribe. Cunnin. I need you to cut my eye out."
Taz did a double-take and began to argue "No, that's not necessary. That's not necessary at all."
Cunnin already had the dagger out, as though he had been half-expecting this. He got a jug of the strongest liquor Bjorn had behind the counter -- a purplish liquid that smelled like turpentine and had so many Xs on the bottle it was unclear if they were a rating of potency, or a WWII plane-style kill count. It was labeled only as The Good Stuff™. Cunnin rubbed the dagger down with the drink and then stuck it in the fire, letting it get red hot.
Meanwhile, Taz argued for reason against this course of action. Justice argued back, consumed with both determination for his tribe and religious zeal - for he would sacrifice an eye to make himself in Gruumsh's image, sealing the founding of our tribe with the Unsleeping God's blessing.
The dagger prepared, Raph was given the order to hold Justice still. Justice was given several deep drinks of The Good Stuff™ and Cunnin offered him his belt to bite down on. Taz appealed once more, now to Cunnin as Warboss but was rebuked. "This is going to happen. If you don't move, I'll take your eye out instead." Finally, Taz backed down and the deed was done. With a sizzle of flesh and a quick, deft motion, the extraneous orb was removed from its housing and Justice immediately began to shake and foam at the mouth.
We threw him down on a table and held him in place, keeping the belt in his mouth so that he couldn't swallow his tongue. After several long moments, the seizures passed and he came to.
"I h-had a vision. I know what Gruumsh wants from me now.."
And then he turned suddenly and wretched all over the table.
With that, we decided to turn in for the evening. It was now too late into the night to find Doomsday Dave before daybreak. We made arrangements with the bartender to keep our presence in the city more or less quiet and then retired to our rooms to sleep off the excitement.
[Ed: This was such a ridiculous and amazing session. I wind up having to gloss over so much of it in the write-up because it wound up being 90% in-character dialogue. What was probably meant to be a quick pit-stop in the Inn turned into three hours or so of solid role-play as intra-party conflict was played up, brought to the surface, and ultimately resolved. This is the kind of glorious scenario in which it might seem like nothing happened and barely any dice were rolled.. but the sheer quality of the role-play was brilliant. And the best part? It is developing from a premise about orcs being murder-hobos doing murder hobo things. Half of it is just a string of inside gags and out-of-genre references..and yet, I left this session more psyched than I have been from a game in a long time. This is why I play these games.]
Until next time,
They snuck in quickly and made their way to the market square. I basically asked if Cunnin (being a thief) could case the area and see if anything looked shady, like they were doing dirt (a fence, a fake front, etc) i.e. Someone that would do business with illegal orcs. After a bit of RP and an intelligence roll, they located just the sort.
Some brief negotiations later, they managed to unload some trade goods and spoils in exchange for hard currency and some additional supplies. We also acquired some new information:
The town guard was nervous over elven raids on the roads. We heard further rumors of an elf-queen, and that the elves weren't just robbing the travelers but kidnapping them. Only one person had managed to return alive, and he had kind of lost his mind. "Doomsday Dave," they called him. He apparently wanders around as a homeless person now.
The merchant handed over a bag of coins, but as he was turning to leave Cunnin poured them out and counted them - and found the bag short of the promised amount. Taz and Justice moved into position behind the merchant, who quickly threw his remaining coins at Cunnin and ran off.
About this time, the guards entered the market square and it became obvious that the rest of the merchants had already left. The party made themselves scarce before they were noticed - but not before Cunnin took the opportunity to nick back an item they had traded: one golden pickaxe that he had been reluctant to sell in the first place.
From there, they managed to find an Inn in the seedy side of town: The Flail and Sail.
As it turned out, the bartender was a giant of a man named Bjorn, about the size of many of the orcish party members. From a bit of conversation, he had a mercenary past and spoke a good bit of Orcish - something that has been something of an issue in this campaign, as many of the NPCs we have encountered only spoke common. [ed: this is slowly being rectified, as Cunnin is having Tuska teach Raph and Justice common while she's learning Orcish] Some drinks were had and ultimately negotiations were made for them to stay in town and stay there for the evening.
There were some friendly jabs thrown back and forth between party members as the orcs had some drinks and decided to unwind. After butting heads with Justice, Cunnin decided to retire early and went upstairs to his room with Tuska - giving the young girl further lessons in orcish and instilling in her proper tribal ethos.
Downstairs, Justice had a bit much to drink and wound up having a long heartfelt discussion with Raph. Taz watched on, nursing his own drink, somewhat bewildered by the whole thing. As the discussion heated up downstairs, Justice was spurred to action with the realization - we need to have a group meeting!
Cunnin was roused from his slumber and stumbled down the stairs. After a brief but fruitless attempt to explain to the bartender the concept of coffee, Cunnin settled down with his pipe and the strongest "you woke me up for this shit?" face he could muster.
Justice poured forth from his weary heart all of the concerns and confusions from their journey together so far. Ultimately, the discussion boiled down to: Who are we? What are we? Cast from their previous tribe, their relations were unknown. Justice was all but cast out from the original tribe, effectively an exile. Cunnin's reasons for leaving were largely unknown and Raph was just following Cunnin. Taz? We're not sure. When we met him he was having an intimiate moment with a tree he claimed was a dryad just moment's before we showed up. We're never sure about Taz. Then we have this human child. What is she to us?
Are we a group of people who just happen to be traveling together? Are we a tribe?
After some time, Cunnin finally responded with this: That in his mind, they had been a tribe since the moment they set forth - that everything he had done thus far had been about the tribe, for the tribe. And even that he counted the tiny human as part of their tribe now. She is ours. She is part of us.
Some further debate reconciled the remaining issues. Born of the priestly caste, Justice had a need for structure and hierarchy and finally appointed Cunnin Orkis Inter Pares, Ork Among Equals and defacto warboss when they were on a raid. At other times, they would settle matters via egalitarian tribal democracy, with each member of age (sorry Tuska) having a vote, decided by majority.
With those basic agreements settled upon, Taz voiced a concern about the limits of Warboss authority within an egalitarian electoral tribal leadership. If the time came and someone had to lay their life down for the tribe, would the warboss be allowed to give that order? To decide who lives and who dies?
In response, Justice rose. "I don't think you understand what's going on here. I need you to understand how important this is, the kind of sacrifice you need to be willing to give for your tribe. Cunnin. I need you to cut my eye out."
Taz did a double-take and began to argue "No, that's not necessary. That's not necessary at all."
Cunnin already had the dagger out, as though he had been half-expecting this. He got a jug of the strongest liquor Bjorn had behind the counter -- a purplish liquid that smelled like turpentine and had so many Xs on the bottle it was unclear if they were a rating of potency, or a WWII plane-style kill count. It was labeled only as The Good Stuff™. Cunnin rubbed the dagger down with the drink and then stuck it in the fire, letting it get red hot.
Meanwhile, Taz argued for reason against this course of action. Justice argued back, consumed with both determination for his tribe and religious zeal - for he would sacrifice an eye to make himself in Gruumsh's image, sealing the founding of our tribe with the Unsleeping God's blessing.
The dagger prepared, Raph was given the order to hold Justice still. Justice was given several deep drinks of The Good Stuff™ and Cunnin offered him his belt to bite down on. Taz appealed once more, now to Cunnin as Warboss but was rebuked. "This is going to happen. If you don't move, I'll take your eye out instead." Finally, Taz backed down and the deed was done. With a sizzle of flesh and a quick, deft motion, the extraneous orb was removed from its housing and Justice immediately began to shake and foam at the mouth.
We threw him down on a table and held him in place, keeping the belt in his mouth so that he couldn't swallow his tongue. After several long moments, the seizures passed and he came to.
"I h-had a vision. I know what Gruumsh wants from me now.."
And then he turned suddenly and wretched all over the table.
With that, we decided to turn in for the evening. It was now too late into the night to find Doomsday Dave before daybreak. We made arrangements with the bartender to keep our presence in the city more or less quiet and then retired to our rooms to sleep off the excitement.
[Ed: This was such a ridiculous and amazing session. I wind up having to gloss over so much of it in the write-up because it wound up being 90% in-character dialogue. What was probably meant to be a quick pit-stop in the Inn turned into three hours or so of solid role-play as intra-party conflict was played up, brought to the surface, and ultimately resolved. This is the kind of glorious scenario in which it might seem like nothing happened and barely any dice were rolled.. but the sheer quality of the role-play was brilliant. And the best part? It is developing from a premise about orcs being murder-hobos doing murder hobo things. Half of it is just a string of inside gags and out-of-genre references..and yet, I left this session more psyched than I have been from a game in a long time. This is why I play these games.]
Until next time,
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 6 - Elves.
I haven't been maintaining these as well as I should, but other matters have been calling my attention lately. I'll try to catch up in brief.
When we last left our heroes, they had just left a kobold cave and were heading south to find the road again. Upon the road they came upon a merchant and his guards slowly traveling to the west. Upon stopping them, it was debated whether or not our heroes should rob them blind or merely ask for directions. Ultimately, the latter was settled on and they gained some information:
The merchant was traveling from the eastern city, which had fallen to some catastrophe of unspecified nature [ed: I might just not remember, I'll be honest. With my luck it was foreshadowing some massive plot hook] and they were heading west towards the town of Hanaga in order to acquire new goods to trade. The roads were dangerous, as elven bandits have been spotted in the region.
Our orcish warband let them carry on their way unmolested and made camp for the evening. Cunnin and raph replenished their firewood stock and Cunnin acquired a pair of long, stout sapplings he could trim down into two staves - one long one of about his height, and a short one for their humie girl, Tuska. After they were whittled, debarked, and shaped properly the weapon was presented to the girl as her first weapon. The little girl beamed and squeaked and wrapped herself around Cunnin's leg and d'awws were shared all around.
Justice did a bit of sparring with the girl, taking the other staff and showed her some of the basic movements with it. Afterwords, the fire was stroked and everyone settled in for the evening for something of a heart-to-heart talk. Justice had some character development on the subject of faith. Cunnin and Taz collectively advised him that instead of hoping that Gruumsh will aid him, that Gruumsh was waiting for Justice to prove himself worthy of aid. After some time, it was discovered that Justice just needed a snickers, because he turns apostate when he's hungry.
Interrupting this bit of role-play, the wolves responded to movement in the woods at the side of the road. Before we could act, we were beset by a party of elven raiders!
Justice knew that this was the moment he must prove himself to Gruumsh and..stripped naked, for some reason... but no matter! The elves rushed in, several taking positions around the edge of the woods near which we camped, but a central party headed straight for Tuska. Taz made a B-line to cut them off, but several got around him. The wolves leaped in, tearing down a pair of elves before they could close. The hammer of Justice smote mightily, turning an elf to paste before him, but Raph was not so lucky. As he turned to face down one elf, another leaped onto his back, sinking a dagger deep into his flesh. For the first time, Raph felt the pain of mortals.
One of the elven raiders grabbed Tuska and was making back through the forest. Cunnin abandoned everything and jumped headlong after them, cutting down the first elf that got in his way and finally tackling the other, sinking his dagger in again and again until the raider ceased to gurgle beneath him.
When the dust settled, one elf was left alive and their captive. There was some discussion on what to do with it, the options ranging from "kill it," to "kill it with fire." Cunnin wanted the prisoner questioned, and so they let him do the questioning while Taz and Justice went back to check on Raph and ensure that Tuska was unharmed.
The interrogation became graphic as the prisoner was uncooperative. Cunnin responded by removing bits of extremities until the elf was feeling more cooperative. With the elf's tongue sufficiently loosened, we learned of an elf-queen who had sent the raiders after the girl. Unfortunately, before anymore information could be had the paladin of gruumsh stepped in and an argument was had on the comparative ethics of enhanced interrogation on a prisoner of war.
Losing this battle, Cunnin dispatched the prisoner quickly and put the elf-thing out of its misery. A better fate than it deserved.
They set in to camp that night, but none slept well. Cunnin remained at watch until daybreak, and they set off west towards Hagana to resupply - and to gather more intel.
Until next time,
When we last left our heroes, they had just left a kobold cave and were heading south to find the road again. Upon the road they came upon a merchant and his guards slowly traveling to the west. Upon stopping them, it was debated whether or not our heroes should rob them blind or merely ask for directions. Ultimately, the latter was settled on and they gained some information:
The merchant was traveling from the eastern city, which had fallen to some catastrophe of unspecified nature [ed: I might just not remember, I'll be honest. With my luck it was foreshadowing some massive plot hook] and they were heading west towards the town of Hanaga in order to acquire new goods to trade. The roads were dangerous, as elven bandits have been spotted in the region.
Our orcish warband let them carry on their way unmolested and made camp for the evening. Cunnin and raph replenished their firewood stock and Cunnin acquired a pair of long, stout sapplings he could trim down into two staves - one long one of about his height, and a short one for their humie girl, Tuska. After they were whittled, debarked, and shaped properly the weapon was presented to the girl as her first weapon. The little girl beamed and squeaked and wrapped herself around Cunnin's leg and d'awws were shared all around.
Justice did a bit of sparring with the girl, taking the other staff and showed her some of the basic movements with it. Afterwords, the fire was stroked and everyone settled in for the evening for something of a heart-to-heart talk. Justice had some character development on the subject of faith. Cunnin and Taz collectively advised him that instead of hoping that Gruumsh will aid him, that Gruumsh was waiting for Justice to prove himself worthy of aid. After some time, it was discovered that Justice just needed a snickers, because he turns apostate when he's hungry.
Interrupting this bit of role-play, the wolves responded to movement in the woods at the side of the road. Before we could act, we were beset by a party of elven raiders!
Justice knew that this was the moment he must prove himself to Gruumsh and..stripped naked, for some reason... but no matter! The elves rushed in, several taking positions around the edge of the woods near which we camped, but a central party headed straight for Tuska. Taz made a B-line to cut them off, but several got around him. The wolves leaped in, tearing down a pair of elves before they could close. The hammer of Justice smote mightily, turning an elf to paste before him, but Raph was not so lucky. As he turned to face down one elf, another leaped onto his back, sinking a dagger deep into his flesh. For the first time, Raph felt the pain of mortals.
One of the elven raiders grabbed Tuska and was making back through the forest. Cunnin abandoned everything and jumped headlong after them, cutting down the first elf that got in his way and finally tackling the other, sinking his dagger in again and again until the raider ceased to gurgle beneath him.
When the dust settled, one elf was left alive and their captive. There was some discussion on what to do with it, the options ranging from "kill it," to "kill it with fire." Cunnin wanted the prisoner questioned, and so they let him do the questioning while Taz and Justice went back to check on Raph and ensure that Tuska was unharmed.
The interrogation became graphic as the prisoner was uncooperative. Cunnin responded by removing bits of extremities until the elf was feeling more cooperative. With the elf's tongue sufficiently loosened, we learned of an elf-queen who had sent the raiders after the girl. Unfortunately, before anymore information could be had the paladin of gruumsh stepped in and an argument was had on the comparative ethics of enhanced interrogation on a prisoner of war.
Losing this battle, Cunnin dispatched the prisoner quickly and put the elf-thing out of its misery. A better fate than it deserved.
They set in to camp that night, but none slept well. Cunnin remained at watch until daybreak, and they set off west towards Hagana to resupply - and to gather more intel.
Until next time,
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 5- Kobold Cave a.k.a. Baby's First Dungeon
When we last left our heroes, their course was set in pursuit of Orcpra, the foul Orc Queen. Their only clues were a golden necklace which seemed to have a connection to the Queen's magic, and the vague notion that she was in a land to the south where winter had not set so harshly.
The party stuck to the road for some ways, making several days trek before coming across the smell of woodsmoke somewhere to the East. The party split, with Justice and Cunnin making their way through investigate, and then ultimately Cunnin using his stealth to creep up to the source and investigate. Ultimately, the smoke was rolling out of a small cave entrance. By the volume and density of the smoke, an estimate was made that it was a small camp or cooking fire. The small, scratching footprints in the snow around the cave entrance gave good indication of the inhabitants - kobolds.
Returning to Justice, a brief debate was had on the relative merits of ignoring this cave in pursuit of their higher goals vs stopping here in pursuit of the highest of Orcly traditions: a good raid. Ultimately and unsurprisingly, the raid won out and the remaining members of their party were gathered. Tuska was, once more left somewhere safe guarding the baggage.
The party crept back to the location of the cave mouth, with Cunnin scouting ahead. He moved carefully through the entrance, avoiding a trip wire set at the mouth only to rattle a set of hanging bones. The kobolds looked up from their cook-fire and fled down a northward corridor deeper into the cave. Realizing his error, Cunnin went back to the party that now waited at the cave-mouth.
"I think they heard you coming."
"Raph not sneaky. Sorry Cunnin."
He quickly explained the tripwire and the situation. The kobolds had no doubt taken up defensive positions deeper in the cave mouth. They could be walking into an ambush.
So gleefully, they marched onward to face their ambush.
They rounded the corner to the abrupt north passage and found themselves facing down a line of kobold ballista not much larger than heavy crossbows. The volley arced its deadly fury down upon them, but the quicker members of the party reacted quickly enough to get out of the way. A single bolt managed a grazing strike on Raph, but such was his massive bulk that he did not register the wound. The next moments erupted into chaos. Cunnin loosed his crossbow into the side of one of the kobold defenders, but failed to bring it down. Kobold slingers rained rocks down upon the party, a lucky shot ringing Justice's helm and nearly knocking him unconscious. Taz brought both swords to bare, hacking his way into the fray and Raph charged the line of ballista head on, smashing his way through the weapons and defenders alike as though they were beneath his notice.
When the dust settled, Taz had acquitted himself well in the melee, catching his breath among the ruined bodies of the kobold defenders. Raph was now covered in gore, carrying a kobold spear as a prize. Or toothpick. Justice was gravely wounded and was forced to call upon the aid of Gruumsh to heal his wounds. Even as the power of his faith sealed his wounds whole he began to question his convictions. It was not the first of such battles that had turned poorly for him, and time and again his hammer failed to find it's mark. Is Gruumsh even watching?
The hall before them formed a natural four-way intersection. In the westerly direction, a large wooden double-door stood with metal furnishings. Additional pathways went to the north and south, or back east from the direction they came. Rather than proceeding further, Cunnin raised a hand to halt the group, before uttering the four words of terror "I have an idea."
Cunnin called out in common, his voice echoing down the stone halls "Parlay?"
Confused noises could be heard from down the northward hall, whispers and the barking speech of the kobold tongue. A few moments later, there was movement and a single representative of their kind appeared before the party. It barked out in clipped common "You. Leave!"
"You are kobolds. We are orcs. Orcs raid kobolds. It is the way of things, but it does not have to be. If we fight you, you will die and we will take everything. But if you pay us now, we will leave instead."
The kobold considered this for a moment, then barked back to his fellows around the corner. After brief discussion, he shook his head and tried again. "Kobolds not bow to Orc! You! Leave!"and then proceeded to fold its arms and flap its elbows in a manner not unlike the chicken dance, hissing and spitting at the floor.
"Your friends don't have to die."
The kobold at this point turned and ran back around the corner. After a few moments of silence, Cunnin tried one last time "Is that a no?"
The reply barked back at him from the darkness. "Ff-f-ffffffffaaack you!"
Taz had translated much of the affair to the remaining party. At the last line, Justice questioned "What does that mean?"
"I guess they aren't feeling reasonable."
With a shrug, the party moved down the tunnel into which the kobolds had retreated. Some time during this, the Justice's mind began to spin. The pieces all fit together. Raph's flawless Chopin. His seeming invincibility in combat, his unparalleled destruction, his innocent and unexpected "from the mouth of babes" wisdom. What if Raph wasn't just a simpleton, but instead connected to some higher power? He seems simple to us only because we are not capable of understanding the raw power of his mind, operating on a level so high above us as to be incomprehensible. What if Raph himself is a god?
The orcs fell upon the defenders. Crossbow bolts and sling stones arced across the battlefield. The bard's swords nearly sang as they crossed through the air and landed their blows. Raph smashed kobold upon kobold and Justice, inspired by the might of this new god called out to him for power. So imbued, he set upon the enemies, his hammer crumpling one after the next until none stood before him. Yes. This was it. This is what he had been looking for.
In the aftermath, a number of kobold young were discovered hiding among some supplies in the back of the cave. Some discussion was had as to what would become of them, but Cunnin had other things on his mind. He slipped back to the intersection of the tunnels to examine the double door. He very carefully examined the frame and the ground before it, finding nothing of note. He let his hand go near the handle without touching it to check for heat and was rewarded when the hair on his arms stood on end as though by static.
Standing back, he squirted a brief stream from his waterskin at the door, careful not to let it be long enough to lead back to him. Where the water touched the metal furnishings, it sparked and crackled filling the air with the smell of ozone.
It was about this time that Justice came to check what Cunnin was doing and cautiously watched the experiment. Cunnin explained that he thought it might be some kind of electrical trap, and asked if Raph still had the kobold spear. Justice nodded and went to retrieve the item, holding it with the kind of reverence due to such a sacred relic, wielded in battle by the divine.
Cunnin nodded in thanks, taking the spear and immediately snapping the metal head off of it. Justice fell a step back in horror and stormed off, taking the now dislodged head and muttering to himself.
With the wooden shaft, Cunnin carefully pushed the right-side door back, careful to ensure that wood touched only wood, and equally careful to ensure that he was around the side of the door, not in the path of the entrance. The door swung almost frictionless open back against the wall behind it, opening fully. He moved to the other side and repeated, getting the same result. As the left side touched the wall behind it, a row of spears shot up from the floor just inside the door-frame as though to impale one who incautiously stepped through.
Confident that the door was the pressure mechanism, Cunnin stepped through and saw before him a great hoard of boxes and chests, barrels and scattered coin. The remainder of the party entered in behind him and with great excitement went to investigate. Despite his initial enthusiasm, Cunnin took a step back across the threshold. Suddenly, the Kobold's awkward chicken dance made a great deal of sense.
"I don't think we should be in here." He made another step back out of the room.
Justice made to open the first chest, when the pile of treasures began to shift before them, revealing the body of a great red dragon waking before them. It's motions were jerky at first, eyes glowing red and head leveled to stare at those who had trespassed in its domain.
Realizing his fate was sealed, Justice took a step towards the beast and tried to explain the circumstances. "Ah, if we had known the kobolds were in your service, then we would never have attempted to -- AH HA!" he lunged forward, trying to spear the dragon in the eye with the spear of Raphginus only to fumble the draw and drop it on the ground. [ed: Of all the times to roll a 1!]
The dragon reared its head back, and Justice looked back to his new God for aid. Raph looked around for a moment and declared "uh. Raph heard Cunnin say he needs help in hallway. Raph will be back." And the giant demigod ran out into the hallway.
"Raph? Why have you foresaken me?"
As Raph came out, Cunnin stepped in, determined to throw his lot in with Justice. The tribe will live or die as one. However, rather than a certain death, what Cunnin saw was almost comical. He swaggered in, weapons sheathed and bellowing.
"You know who we are. You see what we can do. We have your women, your children. Surrender now and we will take our gold and leave. If you don't, we will slay every last one of you."
Justice turned, wide-eyed and horrified, immediately attempting to interject "that's not --- he doesn't mean ---"
It is at this point the "dragon" fell from the wires that had suspended it, seeming to deflate all at once. A few moments later, three kobolds emerged from inside the chassis of it with a guilty, embarrassed grin. Justice and Taz stood in stunned silence for a long moment. Cunnin crossed his arms, waiting.
The two kobolds gestured to the treasure pile and booked it for the door, disappearing down another corridor.
Our heroes loaded up everything they could carry, which was some considerable sum of coins, a pair of magic daggers, an enchanted crossbow, a magic breastplate (that was too small for any of us), a golden necklace with a saphire stone, and some miscellaneous gems.
Honoring their word, the tribe gathered up what goods it could carry and left the remaining kobolds unmolested, setting forth back into the world for another adventure.
Until then,
The party stuck to the road for some ways, making several days trek before coming across the smell of woodsmoke somewhere to the East. The party split, with Justice and Cunnin making their way through investigate, and then ultimately Cunnin using his stealth to creep up to the source and investigate. Ultimately, the smoke was rolling out of a small cave entrance. By the volume and density of the smoke, an estimate was made that it was a small camp or cooking fire. The small, scratching footprints in the snow around the cave entrance gave good indication of the inhabitants - kobolds.
Returning to Justice, a brief debate was had on the relative merits of ignoring this cave in pursuit of their higher goals vs stopping here in pursuit of the highest of Orcly traditions: a good raid. Ultimately and unsurprisingly, the raid won out and the remaining members of their party were gathered. Tuska was, once more left somewhere safe guarding the baggage.
The party crept back to the location of the cave mouth, with Cunnin scouting ahead. He moved carefully through the entrance, avoiding a trip wire set at the mouth only to rattle a set of hanging bones. The kobolds looked up from their cook-fire and fled down a northward corridor deeper into the cave. Realizing his error, Cunnin went back to the party that now waited at the cave-mouth.
"I think they heard you coming."
"Raph not sneaky. Sorry Cunnin."
He quickly explained the tripwire and the situation. The kobolds had no doubt taken up defensive positions deeper in the cave mouth. They could be walking into an ambush.
So gleefully, they marched onward to face their ambush.
They rounded the corner to the abrupt north passage and found themselves facing down a line of kobold ballista not much larger than heavy crossbows. The volley arced its deadly fury down upon them, but the quicker members of the party reacted quickly enough to get out of the way. A single bolt managed a grazing strike on Raph, but such was his massive bulk that he did not register the wound. The next moments erupted into chaos. Cunnin loosed his crossbow into the side of one of the kobold defenders, but failed to bring it down. Kobold slingers rained rocks down upon the party, a lucky shot ringing Justice's helm and nearly knocking him unconscious. Taz brought both swords to bare, hacking his way into the fray and Raph charged the line of ballista head on, smashing his way through the weapons and defenders alike as though they were beneath his notice.
When the dust settled, Taz had acquitted himself well in the melee, catching his breath among the ruined bodies of the kobold defenders. Raph was now covered in gore, carrying a kobold spear as a prize. Or toothpick. Justice was gravely wounded and was forced to call upon the aid of Gruumsh to heal his wounds. Even as the power of his faith sealed his wounds whole he began to question his convictions. It was not the first of such battles that had turned poorly for him, and time and again his hammer failed to find it's mark. Is Gruumsh even watching?
The hall before them formed a natural four-way intersection. In the westerly direction, a large wooden double-door stood with metal furnishings. Additional pathways went to the north and south, or back east from the direction they came. Rather than proceeding further, Cunnin raised a hand to halt the group, before uttering the four words of terror "I have an idea."
Cunnin called out in common, his voice echoing down the stone halls "Parlay?"
Confused noises could be heard from down the northward hall, whispers and the barking speech of the kobold tongue. A few moments later, there was movement and a single representative of their kind appeared before the party. It barked out in clipped common "You. Leave!"
"You are kobolds. We are orcs. Orcs raid kobolds. It is the way of things, but it does not have to be. If we fight you, you will die and we will take everything. But if you pay us now, we will leave instead."
The kobold considered this for a moment, then barked back to his fellows around the corner. After brief discussion, he shook his head and tried again. "Kobolds not bow to Orc! You! Leave!"and then proceeded to fold its arms and flap its elbows in a manner not unlike the chicken dance, hissing and spitting at the floor.
"Your friends don't have to die."
The kobold at this point turned and ran back around the corner. After a few moments of silence, Cunnin tried one last time "Is that a no?"
The reply barked back at him from the darkness. "Ff-f-ffffffffaaack you!"
Taz had translated much of the affair to the remaining party. At the last line, Justice questioned "What does that mean?"
"I guess they aren't feeling reasonable."
With a shrug, the party moved down the tunnel into which the kobolds had retreated. Some time during this, the Justice's mind began to spin. The pieces all fit together. Raph's flawless Chopin. His seeming invincibility in combat, his unparalleled destruction, his innocent and unexpected "from the mouth of babes" wisdom. What if Raph wasn't just a simpleton, but instead connected to some higher power? He seems simple to us only because we are not capable of understanding the raw power of his mind, operating on a level so high above us as to be incomprehensible. What if Raph himself is a god?
The orcs fell upon the defenders. Crossbow bolts and sling stones arced across the battlefield. The bard's swords nearly sang as they crossed through the air and landed their blows. Raph smashed kobold upon kobold and Justice, inspired by the might of this new god called out to him for power. So imbued, he set upon the enemies, his hammer crumpling one after the next until none stood before him. Yes. This was it. This is what he had been looking for.
In the aftermath, a number of kobold young were discovered hiding among some supplies in the back of the cave. Some discussion was had as to what would become of them, but Cunnin had other things on his mind. He slipped back to the intersection of the tunnels to examine the double door. He very carefully examined the frame and the ground before it, finding nothing of note. He let his hand go near the handle without touching it to check for heat and was rewarded when the hair on his arms stood on end as though by static.
Standing back, he squirted a brief stream from his waterskin at the door, careful not to let it be long enough to lead back to him. Where the water touched the metal furnishings, it sparked and crackled filling the air with the smell of ozone.
It was about this time that Justice came to check what Cunnin was doing and cautiously watched the experiment. Cunnin explained that he thought it might be some kind of electrical trap, and asked if Raph still had the kobold spear. Justice nodded and went to retrieve the item, holding it with the kind of reverence due to such a sacred relic, wielded in battle by the divine.
Cunnin nodded in thanks, taking the spear and immediately snapping the metal head off of it. Justice fell a step back in horror and stormed off, taking the now dislodged head and muttering to himself.
With the wooden shaft, Cunnin carefully pushed the right-side door back, careful to ensure that wood touched only wood, and equally careful to ensure that he was around the side of the door, not in the path of the entrance. The door swung almost frictionless open back against the wall behind it, opening fully. He moved to the other side and repeated, getting the same result. As the left side touched the wall behind it, a row of spears shot up from the floor just inside the door-frame as though to impale one who incautiously stepped through.
Confident that the door was the pressure mechanism, Cunnin stepped through and saw before him a great hoard of boxes and chests, barrels and scattered coin. The remainder of the party entered in behind him and with great excitement went to investigate. Despite his initial enthusiasm, Cunnin took a step back across the threshold. Suddenly, the Kobold's awkward chicken dance made a great deal of sense.
"I don't think we should be in here." He made another step back out of the room.
Justice made to open the first chest, when the pile of treasures began to shift before them, revealing the body of a great red dragon waking before them. It's motions were jerky at first, eyes glowing red and head leveled to stare at those who had trespassed in its domain.
Realizing his fate was sealed, Justice took a step towards the beast and tried to explain the circumstances. "Ah, if we had known the kobolds were in your service, then we would never have attempted to -- AH HA!" he lunged forward, trying to spear the dragon in the eye with the spear of Raphginus only to fumble the draw and drop it on the ground. [ed: Of all the times to roll a 1!]
The dragon reared its head back, and Justice looked back to his new God for aid. Raph looked around for a moment and declared "uh. Raph heard Cunnin say he needs help in hallway. Raph will be back." And the giant demigod ran out into the hallway.
"Raph? Why have you foresaken me?"
As Raph came out, Cunnin stepped in, determined to throw his lot in with Justice. The tribe will live or die as one. However, rather than a certain death, what Cunnin saw was almost comical. He swaggered in, weapons sheathed and bellowing.
"You know who we are. You see what we can do. We have your women, your children. Surrender now and we will take our gold and leave. If you don't, we will slay every last one of you."
Justice turned, wide-eyed and horrified, immediately attempting to interject "that's not --- he doesn't mean ---"
It is at this point the "dragon" fell from the wires that had suspended it, seeming to deflate all at once. A few moments later, three kobolds emerged from inside the chassis of it with a guilty, embarrassed grin. Justice and Taz stood in stunned silence for a long moment. Cunnin crossed his arms, waiting.
The two kobolds gestured to the treasure pile and booked it for the door, disappearing down another corridor.
Our heroes loaded up everything they could carry, which was some considerable sum of coins, a pair of magic daggers, an enchanted crossbow, a magic breastplate (that was too small for any of us), a golden necklace with a saphire stone, and some miscellaneous gems.
Honoring their word, the tribe gathered up what goods it could carry and left the remaining kobolds unmolested, setting forth back into the world for another adventure.
Until then,
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 4 - Queen of the Orcs
When last we left our brave heroes, they had their target in sight. The band of orcs that had raided their raid would soon themselves be raided, and tribal honor restored.
While our heroes were outnumbered more than two-to-one, Cunnin lived up to his namesake and offered a plan. Taz Dingo would be sent into the woods ahead of them and create a distraction, leading some of the orcs away from their camp and allowing the rest of the party to set upon whomever remained. The plan was set and simple. The plan was then explained a second time for raph's benefit, explicitly highlighting his own roll in the simplest terms: For every enemy orc you kill, you will receive two Oreos.
With that, the plan was set in motion. Cunnin crept into position. Taz moved around the outer perimeter, hidden from view. Justice and Raph came up the back, the wolves in tow. The young human girl (who had been by now given the good and honorable orc name Tuska, after an orcish hero of old) was left in a safe place to watch over their gear, keeping both her from harm and their things from slowing them down.
Unfortunately, rather than run into the woods and make noise to get the orcs to follow Taz misunderstood the plan and began drawing their attention from the edge of their own camp. The rest of the party sprang into action. Justice threw dried rations at the enemy orcs still by the fire, sending the hungry wolves barreling down at them.
Several orcs moved to intercept Taz, but Justice moved in to intercept. Moments later, the great green behemoth came plowing through their ranks, shouting "I came in like a Raaaaaaaaaaaaphing ball" and crushing all that stood before him. Kidneyshanks moved around behind the tents, carefully picking his moment. It was from this perspective that he was the first to see a giant of an orc among their party - a figure who could be none other than the enemy's warboss.
The brutal melee lasted for several long moments before the Warboss was on Justice and their struggle was terrible to behold. Cunnin came in from behind, trying to sink his short-sword between enemy ribs but was rebuffed by sturdy leather armor. The boss turned on Cunnin, sword raised high -- when the broken body of another orc hurdled through the air and smashed into him, toppling them both to the ground. Raph looked on at his makeshift projectile with a satisfied grin.
The Warboss reeled, bloody and dazed. Crossbow in hand now, Cunnin shouted for him to surrender. When the warboss refused, a bolt burried itself in his shoulder, obliterating a ball-joint and causing him to drop his sword. At the second command to surrender, the warboss relented. The remaining Orc stood down, too drunken and injured to refuse.
The latter was bound and sat by a tent until he could be dealt with. Raph's fee was tallied and his account settled. The defeated warboss was thoroughly questioned, his reluctance to speak overcome through a means of coercion too grizzly and disturbing to be described here. (Raph cuddled him, alright? It was awful. There was snuggling.)
Caving to cruel psychological torture, the Warboss revealed that he was in service to an Orc Queen that was coming to power, one more fearsome than any warboss that had come before. She styled herself The Matriarch, and would unite all orc-kind under her heel.
Troubled by this news, Justice, Taz, and Cunnin held council while Raph made sure the prisoners stayed put. At some length, it was decided that our heroes had no wish to become part of The Matriarchy, and that they would have to find the Orc Queen and assess the true nature of their foe. Of the captives, the choice was difficult but necessary. Prisoners would only slow them down, and to leave a defeated orc alive was to guarantee that they would seek revenge.
Cunnin approached the Warboss and apologized simply. "I'm sorry, but there is an account to settle." He placed a bolt through the warboss's brain-pan, giving him the most painless death he could.
This left the remaining prisoner, of whom it was decided would be an offering to Gruumsh, one-eyed. The prisoner was given several swigs of their best whiskey, and ultimately went willingly to his death, hanged upon a high branch and ended with a spear.
Tuska and their belongings were fetched from the hiding place down the way, and they made camp in the defeated orcs tents. Once the belongings were searched, several trinkets were found, including a strange shield made of granite, a fine sword and a strange golden necklace. Of these, the necklace became most important, the center ruby in it shimmering.
The necklace was placed around Raph's neck for testing. Nothing happened for a long time, but as he played with the medallion, his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground unconscious. When he recovered, he related a vision of a great female orc who both grew and shrank in size. Before her were hundreds of orcs (maybe, Raph isn't great with numbers) all shouting and chanting her name. Orc-pra! Orc-pra! Orc-pra! Orc-pra!
Upon further questioning, he related that it was outside in a warm place where no snow had fallen. With nothing else to go on, that set our course south. South we shall go.
Until next time.
While our heroes were outnumbered more than two-to-one, Cunnin lived up to his namesake and offered a plan. Taz Dingo would be sent into the woods ahead of them and create a distraction, leading some of the orcs away from their camp and allowing the rest of the party to set upon whomever remained. The plan was set and simple. The plan was then explained a second time for raph's benefit, explicitly highlighting his own roll in the simplest terms: For every enemy orc you kill, you will receive two Oreos.
With that, the plan was set in motion. Cunnin crept into position. Taz moved around the outer perimeter, hidden from view. Justice and Raph came up the back, the wolves in tow. The young human girl (who had been by now given the good and honorable orc name Tuska, after an orcish hero of old) was left in a safe place to watch over their gear, keeping both her from harm and their things from slowing them down.
Unfortunately, rather than run into the woods and make noise to get the orcs to follow Taz misunderstood the plan and began drawing their attention from the edge of their own camp. The rest of the party sprang into action. Justice threw dried rations at the enemy orcs still by the fire, sending the hungry wolves barreling down at them.
Several orcs moved to intercept Taz, but Justice moved in to intercept. Moments later, the great green behemoth came plowing through their ranks, shouting "I came in like a Raaaaaaaaaaaaphing ball" and crushing all that stood before him. Kidneyshanks moved around behind the tents, carefully picking his moment. It was from this perspective that he was the first to see a giant of an orc among their party - a figure who could be none other than the enemy's warboss.
The brutal melee lasted for several long moments before the Warboss was on Justice and their struggle was terrible to behold. Cunnin came in from behind, trying to sink his short-sword between enemy ribs but was rebuffed by sturdy leather armor. The boss turned on Cunnin, sword raised high -- when the broken body of another orc hurdled through the air and smashed into him, toppling them both to the ground. Raph looked on at his makeshift projectile with a satisfied grin.
The Warboss reeled, bloody and dazed. Crossbow in hand now, Cunnin shouted for him to surrender. When the warboss refused, a bolt burried itself in his shoulder, obliterating a ball-joint and causing him to drop his sword. At the second command to surrender, the warboss relented. The remaining Orc stood down, too drunken and injured to refuse.
The latter was bound and sat by a tent until he could be dealt with. Raph's fee was tallied and his account settled. The defeated warboss was thoroughly questioned, his reluctance to speak overcome through a means of coercion too grizzly and disturbing to be described here. (Raph cuddled him, alright? It was awful. There was snuggling.)
Caving to cruel psychological torture, the Warboss revealed that he was in service to an Orc Queen that was coming to power, one more fearsome than any warboss that had come before. She styled herself The Matriarch, and would unite all orc-kind under her heel.
Troubled by this news, Justice, Taz, and Cunnin held council while Raph made sure the prisoners stayed put. At some length, it was decided that our heroes had no wish to become part of The Matriarchy, and that they would have to find the Orc Queen and assess the true nature of their foe. Of the captives, the choice was difficult but necessary. Prisoners would only slow them down, and to leave a defeated orc alive was to guarantee that they would seek revenge.
Cunnin approached the Warboss and apologized simply. "I'm sorry, but there is an account to settle." He placed a bolt through the warboss's brain-pan, giving him the most painless death he could.
This left the remaining prisoner, of whom it was decided would be an offering to Gruumsh, one-eyed. The prisoner was given several swigs of their best whiskey, and ultimately went willingly to his death, hanged upon a high branch and ended with a spear.
Tuska and their belongings were fetched from the hiding place down the way, and they made camp in the defeated orcs tents. Once the belongings were searched, several trinkets were found, including a strange shield made of granite, a fine sword and a strange golden necklace. Of these, the necklace became most important, the center ruby in it shimmering.
The necklace was placed around Raph's neck for testing. Nothing happened for a long time, but as he played with the medallion, his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground unconscious. When he recovered, he related a vision of a great female orc who both grew and shrank in size. Before her were hundreds of orcs (maybe, Raph isn't great with numbers) all shouting and chanting her name. Orc-pra! Orc-pra! Orc-pra! Orc-pra!
Upon further questioning, he related that it was outside in a warm place where no snow had fallen. With nothing else to go on, that set our course south. South we shall go.
Until next time.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 3 - Pack Leader
When we last left our heroes, they set off on the trail of adventure and revenge. Four orcs, one cat, and one human riding Hodor style on Raph's back in a makeshift harness.
The trail wound for some time, with smalltalk had in the interim. A debate sprang up between Cunnin and Justice about the proper territorial procedures of raiding another tribes raid, under what circumstances it could be permissible and what etiquette would be required. As most discussions go on the natural rights of Orc, this one was stopped short by a blood-curdling howl. In the distance, our heroes became aware of a half-dozen wolves, larger than those that normally prowl these areas. They began to draw closer, threatening to encircle.
This was when Taz Dingo volunteered, to the amusement of his comrades. "I've got this."
With that, he approached the largest of the wolves and decided he would attempt to challenge said animal for dominance.
It was at this time that Cunnin and Justice began placing bets on whether or not their comrade would be brutally torn to shreds, while shouting helpful advice such as "Stare him down! they love that."
As the wolf began snarling and circling, the bets were ammended to not whether Taz would be eaten, but how quickly.
A failed charisma check later, the wolf leaped into action. Cunnin loosed his crossbow at the beast's heart, sending his deadly bolt flying predictably some harmless distance into the woods. Raph readied himself to charge in, but Justice placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "No. This is something Taz has to do for himself."
A wrestling roll later had Taz in the underdog position, and the bets were further amended as to whether or not Taz would instead become a member of the wolf-pack by marriage. Fortunately, before the subject of tribe-to-pack dowry arrangements could be broached, Taz gained the upper hand, ultimately pinning the alpha wolf and.. uh.. establishing his dominance.
Their tribe mate returned triumphant, with several wolves now in tow - the members of his pack. Unable to look him in the eye, half-hearted congratulations were issued. While no one could now remember exactly who bet what over the affair, Cunnin convinced both Raph and Justice that he had in fact won, and collected a dozen silver as his just due.
The now larger party traveled some distance before coming across signs of the orcs they sought. Cunnin scouted ahead, miraculously pulling off a stealth roll and making his way across the brush to observe their camp. Making his way back without incident, he shared his observations:
"Eight of them, maybe nine. Most drunk around their campfire."
Invoking the god of Brutal Cunning, he came up with a plan..
Until next time,
The trail wound for some time, with smalltalk had in the interim. A debate sprang up between Cunnin and Justice about the proper territorial procedures of raiding another tribes raid, under what circumstances it could be permissible and what etiquette would be required. As most discussions go on the natural rights of Orc, this one was stopped short by a blood-curdling howl. In the distance, our heroes became aware of a half-dozen wolves, larger than those that normally prowl these areas. They began to draw closer, threatening to encircle.
This was when Taz Dingo volunteered, to the amusement of his comrades. "I've got this."
With that, he approached the largest of the wolves and decided he would attempt to challenge said animal for dominance.
It was at this time that Cunnin and Justice began placing bets on whether or not their comrade would be brutally torn to shreds, while shouting helpful advice such as "Stare him down! they love that."
As the wolf began snarling and circling, the bets were ammended to not whether Taz would be eaten, but how quickly.
A failed charisma check later, the wolf leaped into action. Cunnin loosed his crossbow at the beast's heart, sending his deadly bolt flying predictably some harmless distance into the woods. Raph readied himself to charge in, but Justice placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "No. This is something Taz has to do for himself."
A wrestling roll later had Taz in the underdog position, and the bets were further amended as to whether or not Taz would instead become a member of the wolf-pack by marriage. Fortunately, before the subject of tribe-to-pack dowry arrangements could be broached, Taz gained the upper hand, ultimately pinning the alpha wolf and.. uh.. establishing his dominance.
Their tribe mate returned triumphant, with several wolves now in tow - the members of his pack. Unable to look him in the eye, half-hearted congratulations were issued. While no one could now remember exactly who bet what over the affair, Cunnin convinced both Raph and Justice that he had in fact won, and collected a dozen silver as his just due.
The now larger party traveled some distance before coming across signs of the orcs they sought. Cunnin scouted ahead, miraculously pulling off a stealth roll and making his way across the brush to observe their camp. Making his way back without incident, he shared his observations:
"Eight of them, maybe nine. Most drunk around their campfire."
Invoking the god of Brutal Cunning, he came up with a plan..
Until next time,
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Orc Quest: Episode 2 - Disrespect
With our Australian DM back from a worrying and lengthy illness, we once again could pursue our tales of orcish adventure, even if today's session would be a short one.
When we last left our heroes, they were making camp in the center of a humie village and taking a well-deserved rest adjacent to the burning ruin of a building they set alight. The young female human was placed in a nearby, also abandoned building for safe-keeping. Seemingly Fearful for her life, she did not run. At their camp around the house-sized fire, spoils were divvied up and the decision was made that the remaining children should be eaten to prevent spoilage. The grizzly task was quickly done and what wasn't consumed there was dried for later rations.
Small talk was had, and the lot then retired themselves to the abandoned building with the human larva. Sensing her discomfort, Cunnin attempted to ease matters by offering her his cat, Mr. Boots and some scraps of dinner. The young girl accepted both, seeming to find some small comfort in Boots indiscriminate affection. A fire was lit in the hearth, and everyone settled in for a night's sleep.
The following morning, fresh snow blanketed the outside. Cautious, our party checked out the windows for signs of humans waiting in ambush around the building, but the town seemed deserted. Instead, what they discovered were a number of large footprints leading down the street in the newly-fallen snow. Half-following them, half exploring for the sake of exploring, they found themselves at the village tavern and let themselves in.
Tables were upturned, and everywhere were signs of a struggle. These signs were largely ignored by our intrepid adventurers, on the assumption that humans were simply messy creatures and this is how they lived.
Following conventional gaming wisdom, the party immediately split, heading off in different directions. Taz Dingo made his way to the upstairs, wherein the genre seemed to shift into survival horror for reasons we weren't entirely certain of. Blood stained everywhere, and the bodies of several dead humans were strewn about, victims of grizzly injuries. A noise issued from deeper down the hall, half groan, half-scrape... and it was at that exact moment the DM switched focus to the remaining party downstairs.
To everyone's confusion, Raph sat down at the piano and began playing flawless Chopin, hinting that he may actually be some kind of savant, rather than simply handicapped. The effect was lost on his fellow orcs, whose sense of music was less developed, and decided he was simply playing with the humie toys. Consigning themselves to more important tasks, Cunnin and Justice sought out the cellar in search of food and booze. Cunnin carefully positioned himself in such a fashion that Justice would be first down the stairs, carefully guarding his pathetic 3HP.
Downstairs they found exactly what you might imagine from a tavern cellar - bags of root vegetables and grains, bottles of alcohol, the majority of which were confiscated under the auspice of "that's what humies eat, right?" so that they might feed their newfound pet. Out of nowhere, a scratching, clawing noise issued from the corner, revealing a RODENT OF UNUSUAL SIZE, which immediately charged them. Both orcs issued a manly squeel, and ran up the stairs, losing some of their stolen foodstuffs in the process and slammed the cellar door behind them.
Upstairs, Taz came across the source of his own noises - an injured man, nearly dead and pale from blood loss. In the least orcish tone he could muster, he tried to rouse the man, asking what ill befell him. "O..orcs..."
Confused, Taz picked the man up and carried him down the stairs and explained. Justice summoned his Gruumsh-given gifts to lay hands upon the man, healing him just enough to ensure his recovery. Cunnin stood over the man, attempting to get more answers.
"Tell us what happened."
As the man became more aware of his surroundings, he realized the horror of his position. Cunnin placed a foot on his shoulder, keeping him to the floor. "We healed you. You answer questions. That is the deal. You do not answer questions, we unheal you. Do you understand the deal?"
The man grew pale once more, but nodded his acquiescence.
"What happened?"
"..o..orcs raided the village."
"When?"
"Late last night..e-early morning. We were asleep.."
This response produced much confusion, and a short group discussion to make sure that the orcs in question were not, in fact, our heroes, who would be much embarrassed to have raided these people a second time in their sleep. After it was determined that it was in fact not themselves, and that no black-out raiding occurred, they pressed for more information. Information our informant did not have.
Instead, it was decided he would be placed in the cellar for safe keeping, and that he should remain there for the day when he would be free to leave. He nodded, seeing little choice in the matter, and no one stopped to remember the terrifying ROUS dwelling beneath the tavern.
"What do we do then?"
"These orcs raided a village we were in the middle of raiding. That just isn't right."
"Downright disrespectful."
"So what do we do?"
"I think we.. need to raid them back. We must find these other orcs and raid them, to teach them not to raid what we were raiding."
"YEAH!"
And their course was set.
until next time,
When we last left our heroes, they were making camp in the center of a humie village and taking a well-deserved rest adjacent to the burning ruin of a building they set alight. The young female human was placed in a nearby, also abandoned building for safe-keeping. Seemingly Fearful for her life, she did not run. At their camp around the house-sized fire, spoils were divvied up and the decision was made that the remaining children should be eaten to prevent spoilage. The grizzly task was quickly done and what wasn't consumed there was dried for later rations.
Small talk was had, and the lot then retired themselves to the abandoned building with the human larva. Sensing her discomfort, Cunnin attempted to ease matters by offering her his cat, Mr. Boots and some scraps of dinner. The young girl accepted both, seeming to find some small comfort in Boots indiscriminate affection. A fire was lit in the hearth, and everyone settled in for a night's sleep.
The following morning, fresh snow blanketed the outside. Cautious, our party checked out the windows for signs of humans waiting in ambush around the building, but the town seemed deserted. Instead, what they discovered were a number of large footprints leading down the street in the newly-fallen snow. Half-following them, half exploring for the sake of exploring, they found themselves at the village tavern and let themselves in.
Tables were upturned, and everywhere were signs of a struggle. These signs were largely ignored by our intrepid adventurers, on the assumption that humans were simply messy creatures and this is how they lived.
Following conventional gaming wisdom, the party immediately split, heading off in different directions. Taz Dingo made his way to the upstairs, wherein the genre seemed to shift into survival horror for reasons we weren't entirely certain of. Blood stained everywhere, and the bodies of several dead humans were strewn about, victims of grizzly injuries. A noise issued from deeper down the hall, half groan, half-scrape... and it was at that exact moment the DM switched focus to the remaining party downstairs.
To everyone's confusion, Raph sat down at the piano and began playing flawless Chopin, hinting that he may actually be some kind of savant, rather than simply handicapped. The effect was lost on his fellow orcs, whose sense of music was less developed, and decided he was simply playing with the humie toys. Consigning themselves to more important tasks, Cunnin and Justice sought out the cellar in search of food and booze. Cunnin carefully positioned himself in such a fashion that Justice would be first down the stairs, carefully guarding his pathetic 3HP.
Downstairs they found exactly what you might imagine from a tavern cellar - bags of root vegetables and grains, bottles of alcohol, the majority of which were confiscated under the auspice of "that's what humies eat, right?" so that they might feed their newfound pet. Out of nowhere, a scratching, clawing noise issued from the corner, revealing a RODENT OF UNUSUAL SIZE, which immediately charged them. Both orcs issued a manly squeel, and ran up the stairs, losing some of their stolen foodstuffs in the process and slammed the cellar door behind them.
Upstairs, Taz came across the source of his own noises - an injured man, nearly dead and pale from blood loss. In the least orcish tone he could muster, he tried to rouse the man, asking what ill befell him. "O..orcs..."
Confused, Taz picked the man up and carried him down the stairs and explained. Justice summoned his Gruumsh-given gifts to lay hands upon the man, healing him just enough to ensure his recovery. Cunnin stood over the man, attempting to get more answers.
"Tell us what happened."
As the man became more aware of his surroundings, he realized the horror of his position. Cunnin placed a foot on his shoulder, keeping him to the floor. "We healed you. You answer questions. That is the deal. You do not answer questions, we unheal you. Do you understand the deal?"
The man grew pale once more, but nodded his acquiescence.
"What happened?"
"..o..orcs raided the village."
"When?"
"Late last night..e-early morning. We were asleep.."
This response produced much confusion, and a short group discussion to make sure that the orcs in question were not, in fact, our heroes, who would be much embarrassed to have raided these people a second time in their sleep. After it was determined that it was in fact not themselves, and that no black-out raiding occurred, they pressed for more information. Information our informant did not have.
Instead, it was decided he would be placed in the cellar for safe keeping, and that he should remain there for the day when he would be free to leave. He nodded, seeing little choice in the matter, and no one stopped to remember the terrifying ROUS dwelling beneath the tavern.
"What do we do then?"
"These orcs raided a village we were in the middle of raiding. That just isn't right."
"Downright disrespectful."
"So what do we do?"
"I think we.. need to raid them back. We must find these other orcs and raid them, to teach them not to raid what we were raiding."
"YEAH!"
And their course was set.
until next time,
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Orc Quest: Episode 1: It Begins
Our story begins with our heroes in need of supplies and stumbling into forbidden territory - an occupied humie village. With snow falling around them, they had no choice but to attempt interaction with the pink-skins.
The sun was setting in the distance when our greenskin wanderers filed down the narrow street. Around them, people attempted to settle in for the evening, quickly going about the business of whatever it is humies do when they aren't being krumped. Down the lane, a group of humie larva were conducting a mock battle involving compressed handfuls of snow. Justice Fist went out to hail them, but it was then the DM wondered if we could actually speak common, being tribal orcs.
This was handled via the Lamentations system, where rolls were made. As it turned out, Justice Fist could not speak common, and instead shouted at the children in his native tongue. Wagh waaahg wagh wagh! Fortunately, both Taz Dingo and Cunnin made their rolls and Cunnin tried to translate.
"Don't worry boss, I got this," he spoke in orcish, before attempting to hail the children in their native tongue. "HEY YOU SHITS!" Where Cunnin acquired his command of common is unknown. Startled by the appearance of four giant orcs shouting at them, the children ran to the relative safety of their snow-fort.
Unfazed, if confused, our brave heroes followed the larvae to their ice-cocoon, where Justice proceeded to tear the entrance open wider in order to get a better view. The small humies scurried to the rear and began to leak from their eyes. Justice tried to placate the situation by throwing silver coins at them, but an attack roll later they remained unresponsive. This lead to a spirited debate as to whether they were defective larvae, or if all humies are inherently broken. Meanwhile, Raph played with his pet pigeon.
Taz Dingo suggested that we give him a chance to handle it, and he began to invoke his tribal dance. A few hip-shaking moments later, the young female larva became confused and slightly horrified, but at least was now paying attention. Cunnin took the opportunity to ask "where the big humies at?" The trance was broken, and the girl quickly pointed down the lane before hiding back in the depths of their snow fortification. The party went to collect Raph and Cunnin used this time to show his gratitude to the larvae by repairing the damage done to the igloo. Unfamiliar with the structure of igloos, he simply kept packing snow until the entrance was sealed, providing a nice surface for humies to claw a proper entrance back out of, should they so choose.
By now the sun had passed over the horizon, and the streets were nearly empty. Fortunately, a single woman was visible in the distance. Learning from their prior mistake, they hatched a clever plan. Approaching slowly, Cunnin let out the shout "HEY YOU SHIT." The woman froze, and responded "..who are you?"
"We're not orcs, just Humies!"
She stared in confusion and disbelief. Taz Dingo attempted to add his own influence to the situation, but as he approached she spooked and ran. Fortunately, they had a Raph for just these kinds of situations. Justice belowed the order "RAPH. FETCH!" and the behemoth sprang into action, deceptively quick for his massive size. Like a charging bull, he crumpled wicker-work fences that stood in his way. The woman tripped and slid on the snow, and he towered over her, a simple grin on his face. "Hi lady."
Justice attempted to communicate with the woman, with Taz translating. Cunnin sat off to the side, by a row of hedges. When nothing managed to get past her fearful stupor, Justice threw some coins at her. That's how humies work, right? Several of which landed past her. One of which rolled past Cunnin's feet, where he stood on it until no one would notice that he pocketed it.
At this point, a group of farmers began to gather down the lane, bearing pitchforks and torches. Deciding these humies might be more useful, they let the woman go and went to meet them. Cunnin sank behind the hedge-row, taking up a position to watch. Raph stayed nearby, and Justice moved across the lane into another yard to watch. Taz Dingo happily dance-walked his way to meet the mob, power-sliding his way to their leader.
Unfortunately, these humies were quite excited about something. Or maybe angry. The two emotions are hard for orcs to distinguish. The first exchange was too fast and loud for the orcs to follow, but Taz managed to calm the situation down, "HUMIES. You are speaking HERE. I need you to bring down to heeeere."
Shocked that the superior greenskin lords spoke their lowlie human tongue, he stammered, stepping back with pitchfork leveled in Dingo's direction. After a bit, it became obvious that they were concerned for the whereabouts of the larva. Taz shouted a translation of this information back and Justice advised him to inform the humies that they had already paid the larva, assuming this to be the source of tension.
In translation, this information was conveyed as "We paid for them, they are ours now."
We rolled initiative, as the farmer makes to thrust at Taz.
Cunning loosed his crossbow, which goes harmlessly wide and largely unnoticed. Justice came over a hedge wall, shield first, crushing a farmer beneath the combined weight of his shield and body. Raph charged forward and with a cestus reduced a farmer's face to a fine red mist. Unfortunately, none could get to the farmer in time to prevent Taz being speared through the chest. Taz fell backwards, gasping in slow motion, and sputtering "Remember.. me..."
The melee began in proper. Cunning parkoured his way over the hedgerow, past a fence and around back of another house, moving into a flanking position. Justice proceeded to tussle with another farmer, but after a series of failed rolls began to wonder of Gruumsh had forsaken him. Raph, enraged by the sight of Taz being skewered, WAAAGHed, trampling one farmer and destroying another almost by accident. One brave farmer gathered his wits long enough to thrust his torch at the giant, burrying it in a distinctly uncomfortable place and eliciting a howl from the beast. Another farmer ineffectually attempted to fend himself off from Justice, but could not manage a solid blow. Cunnin came to the aid of his giant friend, sneaking up and shanking the farmer from behind.
Raph tore into the farmer responsible for stabbing Dingo, grabbing him by the throat and snapping his neck, using the body as a bludgeoning weapon to crush a second hapless farmer. Justice finished off the farmer before him, but Cunnin's target was still standing and turned and landed a harsh blow across his face. A brutal exchange followed, with the final farmer laying dead.
Taz was gravely hurt, but through the powers of gruumsh, Justice laid on hands and staunched his sucking chest wound. Crisis averted, the heroes realized they were hungry and began to wonder where the larva had gone. By right of conquest, they now belonged to the orcs.
"Don't worry. They're on ice. They'll keep."
Fortunately, they were still sealed within the ice dome. Cunnin proceeded to use his short sword as a can-opener, prying open the roof of the igloo. Inside, the three small humies clung to each other, leaking once more. Raph extracted them as they clung to each other - humie young are notoriously sticky - and they were carried off to the nearest building, which Justice set on fire for warmth.
Of the three children, the young female struck Cunnin as familiar. He quickly decided it was the spawn of the farmer that had struck him. Immediately, he laid claim. Unfortunately, Taz contested this claim, arguing "we had a moment, earlier."
This was to be settled in the ancient tradition of their people. An eye-poking contest.
A quick scuffle occurred, and Cunnin was blessed by Gork and Mork, winning through an act that was both brutally cunning and cunningly brutal - shoving an elbow into Dingo's chest wound in order to distract him for the eye-poke. His prize won and the matter settled, they went to bask in the warm light of the burning building in the middle of town.
And this is where we left our heroes, with nothing that could possibly go wrong.
Until next time,
The sun was setting in the distance when our greenskin wanderers filed down the narrow street. Around them, people attempted to settle in for the evening, quickly going about the business of whatever it is humies do when they aren't being krumped. Down the lane, a group of humie larva were conducting a mock battle involving compressed handfuls of snow. Justice Fist went out to hail them, but it was then the DM wondered if we could actually speak common, being tribal orcs.
This was handled via the Lamentations system, where rolls were made. As it turned out, Justice Fist could not speak common, and instead shouted at the children in his native tongue. Wagh waaahg wagh wagh! Fortunately, both Taz Dingo and Cunnin made their rolls and Cunnin tried to translate.
"Don't worry boss, I got this," he spoke in orcish, before attempting to hail the children in their native tongue. "HEY YOU SHITS!" Where Cunnin acquired his command of common is unknown. Startled by the appearance of four giant orcs shouting at them, the children ran to the relative safety of their snow-fort.
Unfazed, if confused, our brave heroes followed the larvae to their ice-cocoon, where Justice proceeded to tear the entrance open wider in order to get a better view. The small humies scurried to the rear and began to leak from their eyes. Justice tried to placate the situation by throwing silver coins at them, but an attack roll later they remained unresponsive. This lead to a spirited debate as to whether they were defective larvae, or if all humies are inherently broken. Meanwhile, Raph played with his pet pigeon.
Taz Dingo suggested that we give him a chance to handle it, and he began to invoke his tribal dance. A few hip-shaking moments later, the young female larva became confused and slightly horrified, but at least was now paying attention. Cunnin took the opportunity to ask "where the big humies at?" The trance was broken, and the girl quickly pointed down the lane before hiding back in the depths of their snow fortification. The party went to collect Raph and Cunnin used this time to show his gratitude to the larvae by repairing the damage done to the igloo. Unfamiliar with the structure of igloos, he simply kept packing snow until the entrance was sealed, providing a nice surface for humies to claw a proper entrance back out of, should they so choose.
By now the sun had passed over the horizon, and the streets were nearly empty. Fortunately, a single woman was visible in the distance. Learning from their prior mistake, they hatched a clever plan. Approaching slowly, Cunnin let out the shout "HEY YOU SHIT." The woman froze, and responded "..who are you?"
"We're not orcs, just Humies!"
She stared in confusion and disbelief. Taz Dingo attempted to add his own influence to the situation, but as he approached she spooked and ran. Fortunately, they had a Raph for just these kinds of situations. Justice belowed the order "RAPH. FETCH!" and the behemoth sprang into action, deceptively quick for his massive size. Like a charging bull, he crumpled wicker-work fences that stood in his way. The woman tripped and slid on the snow, and he towered over her, a simple grin on his face. "Hi lady."
Justice attempted to communicate with the woman, with Taz translating. Cunnin sat off to the side, by a row of hedges. When nothing managed to get past her fearful stupor, Justice threw some coins at her. That's how humies work, right? Several of which landed past her. One of which rolled past Cunnin's feet, where he stood on it until no one would notice that he pocketed it.
At this point, a group of farmers began to gather down the lane, bearing pitchforks and torches. Deciding these humies might be more useful, they let the woman go and went to meet them. Cunnin sank behind the hedge-row, taking up a position to watch. Raph stayed nearby, and Justice moved across the lane into another yard to watch. Taz Dingo happily dance-walked his way to meet the mob, power-sliding his way to their leader.
Unfortunately, these humies were quite excited about something. Or maybe angry. The two emotions are hard for orcs to distinguish. The first exchange was too fast and loud for the orcs to follow, but Taz managed to calm the situation down, "HUMIES. You are speaking HERE. I need you to bring down to heeeere."
Shocked that the superior greenskin lords spoke their lowlie human tongue, he stammered, stepping back with pitchfork leveled in Dingo's direction. After a bit, it became obvious that they were concerned for the whereabouts of the larva. Taz shouted a translation of this information back and Justice advised him to inform the humies that they had already paid the larva, assuming this to be the source of tension.
In translation, this information was conveyed as "We paid for them, they are ours now."
We rolled initiative, as the farmer makes to thrust at Taz.
Cunning loosed his crossbow, which goes harmlessly wide and largely unnoticed. Justice came over a hedge wall, shield first, crushing a farmer beneath the combined weight of his shield and body. Raph charged forward and with a cestus reduced a farmer's face to a fine red mist. Unfortunately, none could get to the farmer in time to prevent Taz being speared through the chest. Taz fell backwards, gasping in slow motion, and sputtering "Remember.. me..."
The melee began in proper. Cunning parkoured his way over the hedgerow, past a fence and around back of another house, moving into a flanking position. Justice proceeded to tussle with another farmer, but after a series of failed rolls began to wonder of Gruumsh had forsaken him. Raph, enraged by the sight of Taz being skewered, WAAAGHed, trampling one farmer and destroying another almost by accident. One brave farmer gathered his wits long enough to thrust his torch at the giant, burrying it in a distinctly uncomfortable place and eliciting a howl from the beast. Another farmer ineffectually attempted to fend himself off from Justice, but could not manage a solid blow. Cunnin came to the aid of his giant friend, sneaking up and shanking the farmer from behind.
Raph tore into the farmer responsible for stabbing Dingo, grabbing him by the throat and snapping his neck, using the body as a bludgeoning weapon to crush a second hapless farmer. Justice finished off the farmer before him, but Cunnin's target was still standing and turned and landed a harsh blow across his face. A brutal exchange followed, with the final farmer laying dead.
Taz was gravely hurt, but through the powers of gruumsh, Justice laid on hands and staunched his sucking chest wound. Crisis averted, the heroes realized they were hungry and began to wonder where the larva had gone. By right of conquest, they now belonged to the orcs.
"Don't worry. They're on ice. They'll keep."
Fortunately, they were still sealed within the ice dome. Cunnin proceeded to use his short sword as a can-opener, prying open the roof of the igloo. Inside, the three small humies clung to each other, leaking once more. Raph extracted them as they clung to each other - humie young are notoriously sticky - and they were carried off to the nearest building, which Justice set on fire for warmth.
Of the three children, the young female struck Cunnin as familiar. He quickly decided it was the spawn of the farmer that had struck him. Immediately, he laid claim. Unfortunately, Taz contested this claim, arguing "we had a moment, earlier."
This was to be settled in the ancient tradition of their people. An eye-poking contest.
A quick scuffle occurred, and Cunnin was blessed by Gork and Mork, winning through an act that was both brutally cunning and cunningly brutal - shoving an elbow into Dingo's chest wound in order to distract him for the eye-poke. His prize won and the matter settled, they went to bask in the warm light of the burning building in the middle of town.
And this is where we left our heroes, with nothing that could possibly go wrong.
Until next time,
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Orc Quest: Episode 1: The Orcening
Tonight started our all-orc campaign, and it went exactly like I expected it to. "Off the rails" doesn't begin to describe it, but we didn't intend for it to be a serious adventure so all is well.
Justice Fist - A devout paladin of Gruumsh in the midst of a spiritual crisis. It is not enough to know that we Waaagh, but we must know why we Waaagh. Like the humie Socrates of ancient Greece, his questions quickly brought upon him the ire of his brother orcs, and soon he was cast out of the tribe for thinking too hard. Now he wanders the countryside in search of answers.
Cunnin Kidneyshanks - An unusually intelligent orc, what he lacks in physical ability he makes up for in brutal cunning and cunning brutality. Clad in his purplish burlap cloak, he followed Justice into exile - presumably because it would give him more opportunities to steal shit.
~Dramatis Personæ~
Justice Fist - A devout paladin of Gruumsh in the midst of a spiritual crisis. It is not enough to know that we Waaagh, but we must know why we Waaagh. Like the humie Socrates of ancient Greece, his questions quickly brought upon him the ire of his brother orcs, and soon he was cast out of the tribe for thinking too hard. Now he wanders the countryside in search of answers.
Cunnin Kidneyshanks - An unusually intelligent orc, what he lacks in physical ability he makes up for in brutal cunning and cunning brutality. Clad in his purplish burlap cloak, he followed Justice into exile - presumably because it would give him more opportunities to steal shit.
Raph - Big as an aurochs and about as intelligent, Raph is a one-orc wrecking ball. Growing up in the tribe, he quickly became fast friends with Cunnin and formed a kind of symbiosis. Where Raph's ridiculous strength would serve to protect his much scrawnier friend from much of the harshness of orc tribal politics, Cunnin's intelligence and guile kept others from taking advantage of his lumbering friend.
Taz Dingo - A mysterious orc with hypnotic hips, Dingo's power seems to lie in some form of pelvic sorcery. His reasons for joining the exiles are unknown to any but himself, but through the power of his peculiar tribal dance, Dingo has become the face of the party, power-sliding them through one sticky situation into another.
Boots: Cunnin's largely feral pet feline, Boots was found as a kitten and originally intended to be a light snack when it began to purr. Unable to bring himself to eat the fuzzy purring mass, Cunnin kept it for himself as a pet, where he learned to appreciate its own particular variety of brutal cunning. Boots can currently be found wherever Cunnin goes, usually napping in his haversack.
Boots: Cunnin's largely feral pet feline, Boots was found as a kitten and originally intended to be a light snack when it began to purr. Unable to bring himself to eat the fuzzy purring mass, Cunnin kept it for himself as a pet, where he learned to appreciate its own particular variety of brutal cunning. Boots can currently be found wherever Cunnin goes, usually napping in his haversack.
Together, they are The Green Team.
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