Lacuna Locurae Play Session Report 6: We're gonna be rich, I tell ya! Rich!

Most of this session consisted of a very large battle with clay soldiers, their generals, and their warlord. The PCs concentrated on keeping the enemy forces bottled up in the main room, while some of their number retreated to the upper chamber to snipe at them through the newly opened hole in the ceiling, where the pool once had stood. It took some time, but they were, eventually, victorious. The two wizards wrangled over the crystal ball they found by the throne, and eventually decided who got it by die roll. Harris Patter, girl wizard, was disappointed. It may however, redound to her advantage, in the end.

They searched the room pretty thoroughly, and found a secret door. After some very careful dungeoneering, checking for all manner of perils, they went through. There, they discovered a room with what seemed to be both the contents of a warlord's field tent (camp chair, pallet,etc.) and an arcane circle with a bier in the center of it. Upon the bier rested the dessicated remains of the warlord in question. He was dead-dead, not un-dead, though some of the party feared he might rise to begin smiting them. Given how well they'd managed the previous encounter (awesome die rolling, despite a magic missile misfire almost killing the party's thief. Again.), I probably should have done something fun with the corpse, but it was approaching the end of the session, and both they and I were battle-weary.

The wizard with the crystal ball soon figured out that one might place said item in a concavity at the foot of the bier. Though there was some trepidation, they ultimately "pressed the Big Red Button" by inserting the crystal sphere. The result: A potential patron:

Gazing into the crystal ball, you see an endless field of bright stars on a faint gray background. A ghostly image of the warwizard drifts in the star-strewn ether, perfectly still. Then a harsh goat-like face fills the full sphere, staring intently at you. “I have waited a long time for someone to take the warlord’s place,” says the strange goat-man in a deep voice. “His astral voyage was cut short before he could rekindle the spark of his mortal coil. I am still in need of an ally on your world. Fill this copper brazier with wood from a dryad’s tree and ignite it with the spark of a living fire. The blaze will reveal the location of the other half of the rulership rod. Find that for me, and you shall be rewarded.” Then the globe dims to mere crystal. (DCC Core Rulebook, p. 456)

I believe they intend to follow through on this quest at some point, but first they had a golden monolith to deal with.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, one of Harris Patter's spells has the mercurial effect of turning one random item to lead and another one to gold. I altered the function a bit for dramatic license, and had it affect two standing stones of immense girth and heft. They clearly couldn't carry the whole thing, given their rickety cart, which conveyance they'd brought from Hirot. So, after emerging from the dungeon, they discussed what they might do, ultimately deciding to hack off chunks of gold from the former megalith. It is, of course, sacred to the native peoples of this land, whose shamans will, no doubt, attempt to trigger a holy war of some kind against this outrage. That should be fun. I may need some mass combat rules...

After some discussion, I allowed that they could probably carry (and still be able to hide) about three hundred pounds of gold (leaving some 21,700 pounds behind, unattended in the barrowlands, soon to be found by natives). I recon that the gold coins of this realm aren't particularly large, and run about 20 coins to the pound. They have, then, roughly 6,000 gold pieces, should the gold be minted into coinage. That's a lot of gold. However, given that this is a silver standard economy, it's a stupidly large amount of gold, and it's not already in coin or bar form. They will need to get someone to exchange it for credit, equivalent value, or to mint it into bars or coins. That could prove both tricky and dangerous, and might draw the attention of many, many people in Magyaru, some of them powerful, some dangerous, and some... both. It will be a miracle if the party manages to hold onto their booty, and their necks.

Further, it may soon be revealed what happened out in the barrowlands, and why the natives are restless. They may soon lay siege to the city, coming with their war chariots, painted in woad, ready to burn and pillage, their holy men primed for revenge against those who would trifle with the very spirits of the land and sky. It might get pretty tricky for a group of low-level adventurers caught up in a situation like that. It certainly might... We'll have to see how that works out, because they've decided it's time to make the final steps of their voyage to Magyaru. They're all free people now, with no records of slavery or indenture to bind those laboring under such things. They have plenty of wealth, and a lust for power and glory. We shall see what is possible in Magyaru. It certainly won't be what they expected, in the end, though it may seem so to begin with.

On top of it all, I'm actually running a new game on Sundays, with a whole different group of people. It's set in the same world, and I've decided that the different groups will have to live with the consequences of actions of both. It should prove most amusing to watch how the chips fall. Mua! Muaha! Muhahaha! MUAHAHAHAHA! <--That's supposed to be my evil laugh.

Lacuna Locurae Play Session Reports (4 & 5): Things change, things stay the same

Sorry for the long delay between posts. Partly me being Dr. Lazybones and partly me being Dr. Lazybones because work's been kicking my ass. Will try to do better.

Anyhow, when last we left our adventurers, the town of Hirot was in an uproar. The peasants were revolting!

The genius of Mel Brooks continues to astound.

The Yamash and his bodyguard had returned to the longhouse to armor up and 'get swole' in preparation for some good ol' fashion oppression (Iron Fist included!). The town's uppity merchants determined that three feet of steel through the brisket was not particular fun or healthy, so they decided it might be better to attempt negotiation. Accompanied by some of the PCs they held parley with the Yamash. 

They had high hopes to instill some of this new "democracy" thing into Hirot's political order, but the Yamash was not having it. He explained, very succinctly, that it wouldn't be happening. First, he would go down fighting. Then, he explained, rumors would make their way to Magyaru. The Governor would be obliged to send troops to quell the uprising. The leaders would be found, and summarily executed for treason. A new yamash would be installed, and it would be one less reasonable than himself. So, whatcha gonna do? Cometh thou at me, bros!

Still, he allowed, he would be willing to take advice from the wisest of these elders, and consider their council. The Yamash permitted that three of them would be assigned to such a body. These selfless merchants, seeing how such an arrangement could benefit them (and, of course, 'trickle down' upon the peasantry--like a good piss), knuckled under and proclaimed his wisdom. 

The PCs, of course, now found themselves on the outside of this arrangement. They also were not well rewarded for the killing of the Hound, having participated in the aborted rebellion. Tough luck, people. Tough luck. So, they decided to venture into the Barrowlands to seek fortune. They also hoped, perhaps, to find that scoundrel Sylle Ru, who had scarpered off to parts unknown when his political fortunes had gone pear-shaped. I have a feeling we'll be seeing him again...

First, though, they had a date with the witch Ymae. For honoring the agreement, one PC received a nifty, golden shirt (as chainmail with fire protection) before the old lass went and broke his heart. He will soldier on, somehow. That done, they did their best to arm up, provision themselves, and the players leveled their zeroes up.

Leveling up took a while (two wizards and a cleric), and the mercurial magics thus gained were more of the "annoying and funny" type than the "awesome" or "oh, hell no" varieties. One such  case would prove consequential later, in the Barrowlands. Thus fortified, they marched out of Hirot, bound for gold and glory. Or at least gold, they hoped.

***

The PCs marched into the hills and mounds of the Barrowlands, bypassing one obvious adventure hook (the Tomb of the Ulfheomar), before finding a Shiny Red Button. The Button in question was found in a narrow defile leading up to the cliffline, well north of Hirot. A causeway led toward the cliffs, barrows on each side. At the cliffs themselves they found a circle of standing stones and an altar (most likely used for terrible rites by the demonic, pale-skinned devils who inhabit this land). Above the altar was a weird carving, embedded with seven colored stones, in various parts of the design. One of the PCs, an astrologer by trade, figured out that this represented a constellation. This particular configuration of the constellation in question didn't quite match what was in the sky. However, being far from the shores of the Empire proper, the stars were not quite the same. Nonetheless, he determined that the stars were not quite "right," in comparison to the design. However, by their colors, the stones were misplaced. They needed to be shifted in the design to match the constellation in question. So, of course, they fucked with it.

Pretty quickly they found that touching the stones resulted in a point of ability drain (five of them, one for each ability). They took turns. They also found one that drained 1d3 hit points. Then, feeling optimistic, the party's thief climbed to the top part of the design, to seize the final stone. It zapped him for 3d6 hit points (hehe, silly thief). Your humble Judge, naturally, given his proclivities with dice, completely failed to kill the erstwhile character, rolling only five damage and bringing him down to two hit points. Stones in hand, they reinserted them, arranged them in the proper order, and a magical portal opened in the cliffside. 

Oh, I nearly forgot. One of the party's wizards, one Harris Patter, has this mercurial effect for one of her spells:

Accidental alchemist. Each time the spell is cast, one random item within 20 feet of the caster is turned to lead and another is turned to gold. Both objects probably weigh more than they previously did, and the gold object is worth twice its normal cost or 1gp, whichever is more.

She decided to cast that spell (I forget exactly which). I determined that her spell had affected two of the standing stones, turning one to lead and one to gold. Some work with the calculator suggested that something in the order of 22,000 kg of gold, all of one piece, stuck way the fuck out in the hinterlands. Good luck getting that back to town. Good luck getting any more of it, once the natives discover you've been desecrating their sacred circles. Dickish? Nope (okay, maybe). Anyway, this is DCC RPG, and this is how we do that shit.

They entered the portal and found a short hallway and a door. They opened the door, leading to a room beyond. Four iron statues with spears attacked the doorway, but only one character was wounded. They gathered up the spears and stripped the statues of their elaborate, enameled scale mail (That shit looked pretty tight, ya see). Thus equipped, they entered the next room.

There, they found a large (30' tall) statue, its finger pointing toward the doorway (J'accuse!). Long story short, they figured out pretty quickly that attempting to leave the room meant getting doused with flaming oil. Several of them were thus attacked, but none died (much to my chagrin). Eventually, they bum-rushed the northern doorway and found a long room with a pool of water. They also found several weird humanoids, who approached their light sources, but otherwise seemed uninterested in them. They (wisely) did not attack.

One of the PCs noticed that the bottom of the pool was studded with "glowing" crystals. He decided to remove a few, and then a few more. At one point, the floor began to buckle, so he curtailed his activities. The party had found a door in the northeast, at that point, so they moved on. A stairway led downward, into a room with a big table with a host of martial figurines upon it, and in alcoves and on shelves in other parts of the room. A search revealed that several of these were made of solid silver, with a sheath of clay. They got a bit richer.

Then, they moved into the next room. There, they encountered an army of clay, a clay warlord, and seven clay generals. The host attacked! That's when things went haywire. Fucking wizards. Fucking mercurial magic. One PC wizard has a mercurial that causes terror. The warlord got skeered, and went to hide behind his throne. Much of the clay army had been degraded by the leaking ceiling (from the pool above, with its missing crystals), but there were far too many to fight. The party dropped back to use the doorway as a choke point. One of the PCs ran back up the stairs to attempt to collapse the ceiling/pool bottom into the clay army. Some good rolling ended in success, and about 30 of them were crushed outright. Others dissolved in the water. Still something like 26 of he statues managed to get out of the low area in which they stood. Their generals are still standing, and the warlord remains cowering behind his throne. Soon, though, he will recover, and then they will be fucked, well and truly.

That's where we ended last time.

Lacuna Locurae Play Session Report 3: Death of a Hound, and the Peasants are Revolting (You can say that again!)

Last session, Lilya Jormal, daughter of Uxo Jormal, and Harris Patter, wannabe wizard, were taken prisoner by the Yamash and his (presumably) evil councilor, Sylle Ru. Their inevitable fate will be to appease the fiendish Hound of Hirot, as the Yamash hopes to make up for the missed sacrifice of the day past.

The party needs a plan. They have a (supposedly) magical artifact, a rope of corpse hair. They've been told by the witch, Ymae, that it will be able to bind the Hound, making it vulnerable to their weaponry. Also, a now-friendly Beacon Duu of the Temple of Luz has offered to bless them, though he avers that his faith is weak, these days, and he may not be up to the task. Nonetheless, they will accept his blessing and ask him to make them some holy water, just in case that might help. He gives it his best shot.

The women are taken to the standing stones to be sacrificed, and a guard is left there to ensure that no one will free them prior to the arrival of the Hound. The adventurers decide that they will wait until just before dusk, and then try to scare the guards away before the Hound arrives at the standing stones. One of them, an animal trainer by trade, makes an attempt to mimic the terrifying howl of the Hound... and rolls a natural 20. The guards run away with alacrity, the scent of fresh piss in their wakes. Then, the party arrays itself in waiting. This part of the plan takes some time, as they are trying to figure out (1) if getting on top of the stones will help; (2) if the prisoners (now chained rather than tied) should be freed or left in place--they decide to leave them in place, for some reason; (3) who will mount the animal trainers' ponies for a 'cavalry charge' against the ravening Hound; (4) how best to deploy the holy water against the Hound; and (5) where everyone should stand to wait.

Eventually they work things out, and the Hound arrives from the north, and the barrowlands. Things do not go well. Though two characters are killed outright, and one more is wounded pretty badly, they are able to, through a combination of daring-do, pony charges, and shitty rolling on the part of the Hound (by Yours Truly), bind and slay the beast, which crumbles to ash before their very eyes. They free the prisoners and gather the ashes (They might come in handy, don't ya know), but decide to camp the night among the standing stones, hoping to return to Hirot in the morning. They slay one of the character's goat for purposes of a feast, build a fire, and eventually go to sleep. The night passes without further incident.

In the morning, they return to Hirot, claiming triumph over the Hound. Hearing the hubbub, the Yamash and Sylle Ru confront them, claiming that they lie. One of the characters (can't remember his name right now), has the gift of gab, and launches into a real stemwinder of an oration, displaying their dead and wounded (Nice job waving the bloody shirt, by the way, Chris), and even showing the ashes they carry with them. The crowd is impressed, by the Yamash persists in his shit-talking. Soon though, things begin to get a bit tense.

Uxo Jormal and some of the towns craftsmen and tradesmen have had enough of the Yamash and his councilor, and have decided this is the time for a coup. Uxo tells the Yamash to go stick it. He and the "town council" can do his job just fine without him, thank you very much. The crowd is impressed, and begins to make some noise about it. The party, though, is divided on this. Rebellion against the Yamash is tantamount to rebellion against the Empire, and could draw reprisal from Magyaru (and land them in a heap of trouble).

Sensing the tide turning against him, the Yamash turns to his councilor, Sylle Ru, but the reputed sorcerer is nowhere to be found. No one saw him go, and nobody is sure where he went. The Yamash is cowed by the revolting peasants, and flees back to his longhouse. He is trailed by two characters, who want to see what he is about, and maybe to find out what Sylle Ru might be doing, as well. They find the Yamash and his bodyguard arming themselves to take by force the power that is theirs by right, but no sign of Sylle Ru, who may sense a change in the winds of fortune, and may well have fled for more pacific climes. Either way, the Yamash and his men are well-armed, own warhorses, and are pissed right the hell off.

Next time: Will the party lead the rebellion, follow the Town Council, or get the hell out of Hirot? Tune in to find out!

Lacuna Locurae Play Session Report 2: Fetch me my aura stretcher!

When last we left our zero-level schlubs, they had rescued Lilya Jormal, the Innkeep's daughter and snuck her back into town. Unfortunately, their heroics would bear gruesome fruit. Later that night, The Hound would strike the town. The victims were a fisherman and his family, all of whom were slaughtered. Their home had been ripped asunder. Some members of the party decided to investigate.

When they arrived on the scene, the found Sylle Ru, the Yamash's councilor already at work, attempting to discover more about the beast. Harris (the aspiring apprentice wizard, hereafter knows as "Harris Patter") decided she would seek wisdom from him. She inquired what he was about. He answered her gruffly, asking her who she was, and why she wanted to know. She volunteered her name, and desire to be a wizard. He seemed unimpressed. So, she continued to pester him. Soon, her incessant questioning annoyed him past all endurance. "You want something to do, then?" he asked. "Fetch me my aura stretcher!"

Harris, not knowing much about magic, and never having worked in the construction trades, did not realize that he had sent her on a wild goose chase. [Authorial aside: Similar to when I was asked, by one of the carpenters on a construction job, to fetch a "joist stretcher" from my uncle. My uncle, upon hearing my question, fetched a toilet plunger, attached an electrical junction box to it, and told me to, "Tell him I said to shove this up his ass."] In any case, she soon realized the ruse, but returned to find the councilor gone. However, she would not be forgotten, oh no...

Other members of the party, though, sought out the witch, Ymae. They arrived at her squalid hut to find an old woman weaving golden thread from the flames of her cooking fire. Surely she must be quite powerful, both to accomplish such a feat and to avoid the wrath of the Temple of Luz (which abhors sorcery and witchcraft). After speaking to Ymae for a bit, she offered that she might have a way to make the Hound vulnerable to mortal weaponry, but there would be a price: One of the characters would have to marry her. After some discussion, someone agreed to do it. She rewarded them with a rope made of corpse hair, all magicked up good, and (supposedly) what they needed to get the job done.

About this time, the Yamash, Sylle Ru, and the Yamash's body guard descended on the town square. Clearly, the Hound had taken its revenge on Hirot the night before, leading Sylle Ru to proclaim that the sacrifices had not been accepted for some reason. Investigation led to the truth of the matter. It would seem that, in the absence of the PCs, Lilya's presence in the inn had been discovered. So, her life would remain forfeit. Even worse, another sacrifice would be selected in the lottery. If there was any doubt whatsoever, at this point, that the lottery was rigged, it was dispelled. The Yamash selected a name (among which were all of the party's names). "Harris Potter!" he proclaimed, and Sylle Ru smiled nastily at the lass. Lilya and Harris were quickly corralled and led away until such time as they would be taken to the standing stones.

Also, in an act of kindness seemingly uncharacteristic of him, the priest, Beacon Duu, of the Temple of Luz, attempted to provide comfort to the party. He believes the Yamash's councilor to be a sorcerer, and wicked through-and-through, but feels powerless to gainsay him, lest the Yamash decide to dispense with him and his acolytes. Clearly, there are faultlines in the power structure of the town of Hirot.

Can the PCs rescue Harris? Will they be able to slay the Hound? Can they get to the bottom of Sylle Ru's fiendish plot? Tune in next time to find out.

Lacuna Locurae Play Session Report 1: Shipwrecked on Magyaru, and Problems with Very Bad Doggies

My apologies for the long absence. Writing deadlines, wives with broken arms, day job, etc., have conspired to limit my time and energy. I've decided to get back into the swing of things by posting some reports of the sessions I've been running in my Lacuna Locurae setting, as part of the DCC RPG World Tour.

I've been running some DCC RPG World Tour sessions (three so far) on my campus, for members of our student gaming club, and others who are interested. It's been pretty great. I'm starting them off with a zero-level funnel version of Doom of the Savage Kings, with some of the encounters nerfed just a little bit. Though, as you shall see, this probably wasn't all that necessary.

I've had a fluctuating group of players. We game on Friday afternoons, but sometimes people can't make it, or show up a bit late, so we end up with somewhere between 4 and 7 players on any given day. Most of the players are veterans of various flavors of D&D and/or Pathfinder, so they know what they're doing. One even has played DCC with me before. They're playing smart, and they're very, very careful. So much so, that I sometimes have to force a decision by providing artificial time constraints on planning, if the planning takes too much time.

Here's what's happened so far.

Our party consisted of those whose lives had led them to leave the Great Empire--third sons and daughters, indentured servants, slaves, fortune-seekers, and whatnot. The were en route to Magyaru, a colonial port of the Empire. The Great Empire is, culturally, a bit like the Ottoman Empire and the British Empire, put in a blender. The native folk of the island are modeled on the Picts and Gaels of R. E. Howard's stories. So, in essence, I'm trying to mash up something like the Roman experience in Britain with the settlement of Colonial America.

The port city of Magyaru is on the southern coast of an island roughly the size of Texas. The island itself is a single, gigantic mountain, bigger than Everest by a long shot. Parts of it extend out into the surrounding sea, and manifest as various island chains, fertile fishing grounds for both honest fisherman and ruthless pirates. The island is home to savage tribes of pale-skinned, fair-haired folk. They tend to keep clear of the colonials, but there have been incidents. There will be more. I've also placed Magyaru and some of the surrounding settlements in the midst of ancient ruins and barrowlands. This could be consequential, later.

The party's ship ended up running aground on a reef when it got lost in the fog. The survivors made landfall about 80 miles west of Magyaru. The crew died in the wreck, and all record of the nature of the ship's passengers was lost. With no records of identity, indenture, or bondage, all of them are now free colonists. They need merely assume whatever identities please them, and start with a clean slate.

One passenger died as he jumped from the ship (fumbled), and broke his neck on the rocks. The rest made it to shore and found that the coastal road was not too far inland. They made camp and rested the night. When they reached the road the next morning, they spotted a native, who ran away from them. Two of the players decided to pursue him, but instead encountered a sounder of wild pigs. The boar managed to kill two zeroes before they killed it. They left the bodies and hauled away the fresh pork.

After walking the rest of the day, they found themselves on the outside of a fishing village, Hirot. Just outside of town, they stumbled upon a group of townsfolk leading a young woman to be sacrificed at a group of ancient standing stones. They didn't announce themselves, but watched and waited for a bit. After a while they approached and found out that the sacrifice was intended to appease some kind of demonic hound. The Yamash (a title for the ruler of this town) and his advisor (Sylle Ru) had concocted a scheme whereby sacrifices would be made. This time, it would be the innkeeper's only daughter, Lilya. Her father, Uxo, had gotten on the wrong side of them, it seems, and this was their revenge.

The source of conflict, as the players would find out later, was contention over governance of Hirot. The appointed rulers, the Yamash and his bodyguard of noble warriors, had come into conflict with the town's notable men of affairs. This tension between the old nobility and the rising merchant class will be a source of constant tension in this setting.

In any case, the party freed the girl and disguised her with a hooded cloak. They entered the town and made friends with her father, while she hid upstairs in her family's lodgings.

Later that night, the Hound of Hirot returned. Not finding a sacrifice to appease it, the beast leaped over the wall and ripped its way into a house. After eviscerating a family of five, it returned from whence it came.

Next Installment: The Day After

Dave's not here, man (a prelude to an adventure)

Ready to roll, +Shawn Sanford. Something to work from. I'm not sure what the adventure involves (only have read the back cover blurb), but this should take it in the right direction.

Ever since the collapse of Emirikol's tower, Kormaki had felt listless, a sense of pervasive dread and impending doom filling his waking moments. His brush with his deities had, on balance, been something other than what he'd ever expected, and certainly nothing he would wish for. Even the arms of Wendylita, the High Priestess of the Metal Gods' Iron Cathedral brought him little comfort. For a time, he sought refuge in drink. It didn't work. So he drank some more, and stonger stuff. All that bought him were hangovers and blank places where his memories should be, and bruises and scrapes where his skin should be. When his brothers and sisters in the Divine Order asked him what troubled him, he had no real answer. Nothing did. Everything did. He didn't want to talk about it.

After several weeks of this pathetic crap, Kormaki discovered, quite by chance, that he still had one more dose of the Purple Tentacle. He'd first encountered this substance back in the days when he'd just started adventuring with the Order, back before the Order even had a name. There had been a well, but not an ordinary well. When they'd approached it, they'd been attacked by some hideous beast from beyond space and time. They'd sent the bastard packing, of course, but it had left behind the tip of one of its purple tentacles. Long story short, they decided to see if it had any special properties... particularly psychoactive properties, and... well, yeah... they got totally high. Hey, man, it was the Seventies; it was a crazy time. They'd seen visions of things and places beyond the realms of their imagination, and it changed their perspective on the world around them. From this communion was born the Divine Order of the Purple Tentacle. But here was one last dose... "What the hell," he muttered, and drained the vial in an instant, chasing it with moonshine.

Perhaps hell-beasts from beyond space and time age differently than creatures of this plane. Perhaps substances derived of them do, as well. Whatever might be true, the Purple Tentacle had somehow become even more potent with age. Kormaki's mind was transported to every place, and every time. He watched the march of history from its beginning to end, and witnessed, first-hand, each of his lives upon this world, past, present, and future. Whole universes were birthed and then died, and he was witness to every moment, every tiny detail. Everything was born. Everything lived, Everything died. Everything was born again, lived again, died again, over and over and over. After a while the details began to blur into formlessness, and only the recurring patterns remained viable: Birth-Life-Death, all connected, with no beginning and no end.

Kormaki awoke, many hours later, his head hazy, his body weakened from the Tentacle's effects, remembering virtually nothing of his visions, but muttering to himself, over and over, like a mantra, "Deathisnotfinaldeathisnotfinaldeathisnotfinaldeathisnotfinal..." He blinked his eyes, and rubbed the crud out of them. Reaching for the whiskey bottle to wash the foul taste form his mouth, he suddenly was confronted with a moment of absolute clarity: a vision of Dave Filth's final moments, right before, during, and after he was sucked into that wizard's accursed jewel, and lost forever.

In that moment, everything clicked into place. Death is not the end, but only the beginning. Thus it only stood to reason that Kormaki's duty to his flock, even if that flock was only a gongfarmer-turned-warrior and a newly-frocked member of the cult of the Metal Gods, also had no end... They were brothers to death, through death, and from death, onward. And in that moment, he found a new purpose. He would confront Death itself, if need be... but Dave Filth would live again.

Filled with righteous certainty, Kormaki readied himself, donning mail and taking up axe, he hit the streets to look for those who might join him. They'd have to be brave, or fools, or both. As he strode down the filthy streets, guided by his idiot vision, a lost hymn was revealed to him, and so he knew he was on the right path. Though it led to death itself, it was the only path to take.

So we bravely gather, though we moan with dread,
Do you see before you, the Kingdom of the Dead?

Alive!

I've been a participant in +Shawn Sanford's ongoing DCC RPG FLAILSNAILS campaign for probably something over a year, now. Shawn runs a great game, and his skills as a judge, combined with his reliability in running sessions, are things that have kept me coming back for more. This game also has given me a chance to play in a variety of published DCC RPG modules, which I really don't get to do as often as you might think, and certainly not as much as I would like to. He has hinted that he might be on the verge of exposing us to some original, sandbox play and Sanford-authored adventures, which I would love to try out, but we'll see what happens with that in a couple of weeks. For now, let me tell you about the last session.

At the last cliffhanger, the party (most of us below the recommended level) had killed two wizards, including Emirikol and his rival, Leotah (sp.?). I was pretty sure we'd die in that session, but not so. That put my cleric, Kormaki Lemmisson, right on the cusp of 4th level, a place I never thought to see. We still needed to survive one more session for him to make the jump, though.

We began by looting the wizard's bedroom/study. Found some pretty good stuff in there, including a lot of actual gold and gems. Mat's wizard gained a bitchin' cape of protection against magic, plus 2. Then we went through a portal to what seemed to be Emirikol's "panic room." It was chock full of iron golems and a black gem that zapped us repeatedly with harmful magics. Chris's Dyer Halfling managed to spider climb up to the ceiling, and dropped about 30 feet to double stab it. Double crits! He smashed the gem... and himself. Tried to heal him, but failed. Then, the tower started shaking. Self-destruct mode initiated, apparently. Time to bail! We fled to the previous room, presumably the top of the tower.

Once there, we had two options: Leap through the black portal that Leotah had used when she'd arrived, earlier; or, we could brave the non-Euclidean geometries of the tower, and not die in the process. There was a lot of falling stone happening, and I was not convinced that we could find our way out. That tower was confusing. Given that we didn't have any idea how long we had, I opted (along with Chris and one other person--Mat, I think) to leap into the black portal. It was... a mistake. We suddenly found ourselves 120 feet above the pavement. Shawn advised us to get ready to roll 12d6 damage. Instead, I called upon the Metal Gods, asking for for divine intervention. Chris burned his luck down to the minimum to aid the cause. I burned mine too, and the roll was a 37. Shawn allowed that I'd survived unscathed (as I most likely was aided by Robhal, the Metal God of flight, studded leather, and steel). Chris and (I think) Mat each took some damage, but not 12d6. They survived, barely. Chris's luck will heal, at least. That's excellent. That halfling has been a godsend to this party.

So, we survived. Believe me, no one saw that coming, least of all me.

Bad things:

• My disapproval is now going to need some serious repair. My cut of the treasure will be donated at the Iron Cathedral, when I am able. Maybe I'll blow it on Dave Filth's wake (see below).
• My luck mod is now -3, and that's not going away any time soon. I fear it may be the death of me.
• It's official: Barry's character, Dave Filth, is no more. When Emirikol died, we lost all hope of getting him out of that gem he got Magic Jarred into. I'll miss that guy. He was a mate to Kormaki, and we'd been through many an adventure together. I'll see that he is sent off properly at the Iron Cathedral. There will be many a tankard and bottle drained in his name, at the wake. 

Good things:

• Kormaki is now 4th level, an Apostle. He gains one 1st and one 2nd level spell, and another hit die. He also gets a +1 bump to his Fort saves.
• The wizard tower is now a pile of rubble. Fuck you, wizards. Eat a bag of wangs. Oh, wait, you can't. You're dead. Fine, eat them in Hell.
• We are due some payment from the city guard for fulfilling our charge to deal with this wizard problem.

Now, all I have to do is avoid falling anvils and pianos. I have a feeling it won't be very easy, so wish me luck. It's not like I have any of my own.

Meetings with the Metal Gods: Recapping an Epic Gen-Con

People, I've seen the Promised Land. I have traveled across the hills and plains, and found Nerdvana; and it was peopled with My Folk.

I rose in the dark of the morning, and, lacking sleep did sally forth to Bush Field. There did I mount a bird whose food is flammable, whose breath is fire, whose roar is mighty, and rose we did up into the sky. A short journey ensued, to the land of Indy, ere I dismounted and, girding my loins, and taking up my pack and what small weapons and gaming stones I bore with me, strode into a new land. And, Lo! There I saw in the sky, wreathed in fire and smoke, an apparition of Chaos. 'twere the wizard +Wayne Snyder, and I recognized him instantly. Soon we were joined there, in that eyrie by others of our clan and faith: +Gabriel Perez Gallardi and +Doug Kovacs.

Doug and Wayne did depart, riding in a waiting chariot, while I and the Uruguayan, a swarthy, moustachioed  worthy of fell aspect and impeccable manners, awaited our own. Soon did arrive the hulking Pole with booming voice, +Adam Muszkiewicz to bear us away, into the heart of the city. Within mere minutes, our foe, Murphy, did strike against us, casting a spell of heat and imminent fire against the mechanical heart of the chariot, and we were forced to stop at a local oasis. There did we purchase cool drinks while the chariot cooled its temper. We provided an elixir to sooth it, and soon we were on our way, once more.

We approached the monolith, itself limned against others like it, known only as Con-Rad. In this great edifice would we lay our heads, when the opportunity for slumber came (which was not often enough). Our hosts treated us like kings, though we were but princes of the road, and unsavory to look at. It was then that I strode forth to meet the Dark Master, Good-man, who had summoned me from my lair, to bear witness to this annual ritual.

I wound my way through the labryrinth called "Sky Way," and, after many a false turn, was guided by a member of the Con Guard, to the mighty treasure house. There, I communed through the aether with the Dark Master, and he brought forth a talisman for my use. With it I could pass, then, the gate guards and enter the sanctum. Within, men and beast alike arranged in artful ways the treasure of many distant lands, each conclave of wizards within its own ritual circle. Some even did erect edifices of stone and metal to bear their banners, and the jewels of chaos gleamed under the harsh light of the weirdling suns.

Chessex dice display. Yes, I bought a lot of them. How could I not?

For the Dark Master I toiled, long into the eve, ere being granted leave to join my band, the +Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad. We gathered in the tavern of Em-Bas-E for the nightly ritual, contending there each night, our judges calling forth powers fell and terrible: Fish wizards with laser eyes, the dead ones, amazons and squid men, and Young Dave Mustaine. Many died there, from battle, from rains of acid blood, and from corruption. I slew a fish-wizard, garotting him with my sackcloth thong, though my corrupted junk had withered away (not pictured).

In the end, only one escaped from Catastrophe Island. I, however, fell to fierce and furry Chewbacca, whose luck knows no bounds. Then the gods grew weary of play, and their mortal toys were put away.

Let me tell you also of the siege of Exhibition Hall. Each day the ravening hordes did gather outside the gates, ready to sack and to pillage.

Totally ready for ravening. Take our money!

Each day we stood stalwart and steely-eyed (or bleary-eyed, depending on the previous night), behind stout ramparts of merch'.

The Goodman Games booth crew.
Top: Steve Bean, Edgar Johnson
Bottom: Michael Crane (I think?), Keith Labaw, Dieter Zimmerman

For days we were besieged, our merch stocks dwindling, until the hordes broke and retreated to their lairs. Much gold had we gained, and one Hwil Hwheaton (a.k.a. +Wil Wheaton ), skald of the Interwebz, consorted with the Dark Master and +Michael Curtis. I am told he bore from that meeting two tomes of lore. Mayhap he will sing their praises before all is said and done. 

Yeah, I missed this one. Hey, Wil, how about putting DCC RPG on Tabletop?
(Photo from DCC RPG Facebook page)

 Each day was battle and bachanal, each night too short, as we feasted and drank, well-met in taverns and great halls, telling stories, playing games, rolling dice.

Blood for the Serpent King!

Each night grew longer; each morning came earlier. But we were stalwart. Each day dawned to reveal new possibilities and new challenges. We marched on, our line unbroken, under the protection of the Metal Gods.

These are my people.

And on the last night, we met in conclave, hoisted tankards, and drank to our own health. The night was endless and too short, all at once. 

Oh, boy, did I fail my Fort save this night. Almost missed my plane.

So much happened on this campaign, too much to remember, too much to tell. But I was there, surrounded by friends, both old and new.

Joseph Goodman, Nathan Panke, Alex Mayo, Harley Stroh

I finally got to meet Jen Brinkman. She's just as good in person.

Gabriel Perez Gallardi and Wayne Snyder. Also even better in person.

The ritual is complete, the spell is cast, and circle is joined. We call into being a Purple Planet. We summon forth the Metal Gods. You will all die, and you will love it.

The wizard, Harley Stroh, and his team of badasses. We will bring forth
the Purple Planet from our fevered brains. (Photo by Wayne Snyder)
Pictured: Harley Stroh, Edgar Johnson, Doug Kovacs, Tim Callahan.
Photobombing: The rest of the Metal Gods crew.
Not pictured: Daniel J. Bishop and Terry Olson).

The final dawn it came too soon. I bolted from my pallet, reeking of the night before, stomach churning, head pounding, parched and panicked. Without even a proper fare-thee-well, I departed, borne to the hall of the great birds by a hulking black chariot. But all was not well. The bird of my desire had fallen ill, and would not be on time. I was stranded for a time in Indy, and then again in the land of Charlotte, where I bided my time on the edge of sleep and sickness, the corruption from my night's revelry roiling in my guts. Long hours did I wait, until at last I was born home upon wings of steel, to be greeted by my loving clan.  I spilled forth, then, my tale, and gave out the loot I had wrested from that foreign land. A slight repast. A sleep like death, but too short. Far too short. 

Cold morning came early (too early), whisking away half-remembered dreams. Dreams? Was it only a dream? Then how true these dreams, of people and places, and all the things we did, graven upon my heart like a poem, ringing in my mind like a song. I was there, and you were too. Our days were too long, and our hours too few. I hope that yours was just as fine, your friends and your time, as good as mine. That's all I have, and this tale is done.

Author's Note:

Thanks to everyone who made my first Gen-Con (my first gaming con of any kind!) a great one. I know I'm going to miss somebody, but here's a list:

+Adam Muszkiewicz, +Wayne Snyder, +Gabriel Perez Gallardi, +James MacGeorge, +Kathryn Muszkiewicz, +Doug Kovacs, +Joseph Goodman, +Keith LaBaw, +Dieter Zimmerman, +Adam Koebel, +Shoe Skogen, +Alex Mayo, +Steve Sigety, +Reid San Filippo, +Brendan LaSalle, +Harley Stroh, +Tim Callahan, +Nathan Panke, +Jen Brinkman, +Bob Brinkman, +Stefan Poag, Steve Bean, +David Baity, +Roy Snyder, everybody else I have managed to forget to list here. It was great.

Sadly, I will not return next year. It's at a bad time of year for me (Monday was hell, people...). However, I will attend North Texas RPG Con 2015. I hope to see at least a few old friends there as well.                      

Off to GenCon

Oh, long suffering readers (all two of you), please forgive the radio silence. Between work on stretch goals for the inimitable +Harley Stroh's Peril on the Purple Planet, getting ready for GenCon, and getting work stuff squared away for going away this weekend, I have been neglecting the blog. I will come back soon, with reports from the hinterlands of Indianapolis.

In the meantime, I look forward with great anticipation to meeting the flesh sacks of the virtual people with whom I interact fairly frequently. The +Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad will be there, including Sr. +Gabriel Perez Gallardi, all the way from Uruguay. Cannot wait to see them.

I'll be working with Goodman Games on my first ever GenCon (and first ever gaming convention of any kind). I'll be at the booth in the exhibition hall from 10-1 on Thursday and Friday, and 10-11 on Saturday, and running games in the afternoon on those days. You will also be able to catch me at DougKon in the evenings, if you care to do so.

I've also made my reservations for North Texas RPG Con 2015, which will be my con for the foreseeable future, probably, as GaryCon and GenCon come at very awkward times of the year, work-wise. Still, the lack of sleep this weekend, the probably "con crud" I will pick up, and all the rest of the unpleasantness of travel, all of it will be worth it. My friends in the Metal Gods group are the fucking best, and the rest of the folks at Goodman Games are classy as hell.

Livin' the dream, people. Hope to see some of you there.

Bleg: Peril on the Purple Planet

I don't do a lot of these "blegging" posts, but here's one you might want to read.

Goodman Games' current Kickstarter for Peril on the Purple Planet is going full-tilt boogie, and closes out in seven days. The adventure is the work of Harley Stroh, but also includes components created by a cast of many others, including me, Daniel Bishop, Terry Olson, Tim Callahan, and illustrated (of course) by the mad wizard himself, Doug Kovacs.

I've seen a lot of the material for the stretch goals (Yes, they're already written/being written), and the work we've done, so far, is incredibly cool and fun. Because of non-disclosure agreement, I can't go into details about the specific content, but the stretch goals listed on the pledge site are suggestive of the various aspects of The Awesome that Awaits. Go take a look at those stretch goals and imagine what you could do in your games with that material, even if you don't run the straight adventure. You could mine this stuff for great ideas for years and years of DCC RPG madness.

The $50 buy-in is the sweet spot, for which you'll receive a boxed set, including all of the stretch goals. Just go look at that list, and tell me it's not worth the money.

The Pitch: This thing is awesome. Let's make Joseph Goodman create some more stretch goals. Let's make this boxed set the coolest thing ever. Fifty bucks gets you EVERYTHING. Go (NOW!) and make it happen. You won't regret it.