Sunday, September 17, 2017

Still Painting

Lest anyone thing I've abandoned miniature painting for strictly running RPGs, I have been slowly but steadily puttering away at a pair of demo armies for Osprey's Dragon Rampant - the undead "Legion of Nesuahyrrah" and the stalwart "Men of Sabaton."

The fiction I've got in my head has Sabaton as a frontier province, rough and barely-claimed, the Baron and his soldiers working tirelessly to tame and civilize the region and bring it into the Empire.  They don't have enough men, they don't have the best armor and weapons, but they've dug in their heels and refuse to give an inch.  Most of the figures are Reaper "Anhurians," a pseudo-Norman bunch wearing chainmail shirts and open-face helms with nose-guards.

I've previously shown the Baron and his bodyguards:




Now joining them (just bases left to finish) are a unit of archers (Reaper Anhurian Bowmen) and some heavy cavalry - Wargames Foundry's Norman Knights.






Both of these units were slow-going and a bit of a pain.  I think I must not have cleaned the mold grease off these bowmen well enough, something I'm usually very careful about.  The paint has not wanted to stick to the plastic and took every opportunity to pull away from the material.

As for the riders, both men and horses had a TON of excess metal to be trimmed off, especially between the horses' legs.  My can of spray primer was running low too, so the horses especially ended up with a little bit of a spotty coat - especially in the creases of their manes and tails, primer just didn't end up there.  So I had to go over each figure with black paint by hand afterwards.  One of the riders had lost his hand in transit, and I clipped a plastic hand off a Fireforge knights sprue to replace it.  Throughout the painting process I was constantly finding more little bits of excess metal or mold lines that I had missed at every prior point.  Very frustrating.

I'm not a fan of painting horses in the first place (not sure why, they just irritate me to do) so this might be my last cavalry regiment for a while.  I have two more units to do for this army - a unit of Anhurian Spearmen (with an attached priestess providing some magical support) and a unit of war dogs.

Moving on to the Legion of Nesuahyrrah...

These are the undead legions of the Lich Nesuahyrrah, an ancient undead spellcaster.  I imagine the Lich ruling over a swath of territory that the Men of Sabaton are now trying to exert influence over, and he's not having it.  Calling up the bones of long-dead warriors, Nesuahyrrah strikes and strikes hard to reinforce his sovereignty.

(of course, "Nesuahyrrah" is "Harryhausen" backwards, in tribute to the late, great Ray Harryhausen, who animated so many memorable monsters for the silver screen, not least being the seven skeleton warriors in JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS)

I've previously shown off Nesuahyrrah himself, as well as the unit of Wraiths he commands.


I have finished their bases since this photo was taken!

Joining them now is a unit of Skeleton Berserkers, armed with big two-handed swords and axes.


I have one more unit to paint for this army, at least in its initial 24-point form, and that's a unit of Skeleton Warriors with swords and shields.  I anticipate adding more skeletons to it in the future, either for larger point games or to sub in place of the Wraiths - which make up a full third of the warband, points wise, being classed as Heavy Riders (for hitting power and speed), with the Fly and Cause Fear fantastical rules added on.  This is, understandably, a big investment in a single unit, so there are going to be games where I just want to have an extra 24 skeletons in their place and overwhelm opponents with numbers.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

The Iron Principalities, Session 8

So this week was interesting - I went in vastly underprepared compared to even the loosey-goosey way I normally run these Iron Principalities games, as I'd been prepping to run three sessions of Call of Cthulhu, back to back to back, this past Saturday at Queen City Conquest in Buffalo.

Dramatis Personae:
Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 3
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 3
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 3
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 3
Mara, Human Cleric 2
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 3
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 3
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 3

When we last left our heroes, Zerin had his blade to the throat of the apparently-villainous priest Father Markus, while Sylvus had Count Rodrigo held and threatened.  Mivahl quickly sent the guards running with a threatening wave of his flail.

Knocked unconscious, Markus dropped a small red gem he'd palmed - which, when it shattered on the floor, released a towering entity of flame, a fire elemental eight or nine feet tall.  Zerin and Sylvus were on fire before they could react, while Kholark raged and charged the flaming entity and Cor blasted it with a casting of Tasha's Hideous Laughter.

Doubled over in hysterics, the elemental fell to the ground on top of the unconscious Father Markus.  The creature lashed out with fists of flame, igniting the clothing of Kholark as well.  Though it was a hard-won fight, the party eventually won over the creature, with Mivahl delivering the killing blow, his flail extinguishing the elemental like a candle in the wind.

Getting more details from Count Rodrigo (Dormammu cast Suggestion on him), the party learned that Father Markus, and an entity he served whom Count Rodrigo had only ever seen as balefully-glowing eyes in a darkened room, and flattered and toadied their way into Rodrigo's confidence, feeding his ego while encouraging him to take part in sinful rites.  With Father Markus gone and Dormammu's influence over him strengthening, Rodrigo agreed to return the body of the stone giant Petroikodromos to his brother, Lithotomos and pay the agreed upon price for the brothers' labor.

Unfortunately for the party, Rodrigo has no idea where the enchanted lance known as Empyreal Vengeance was, believing it to be no more than a legend.  He did admit, however, that the watchtower he'd claimed as his castle was built over an ancient dwarven ruin which had never, to his knowledge, been investigated.

Lithotomos, however, was able to provide aid, in the form of a small, mole-shaped Earth Elemental.  While incapable of understanding the finer details of the adventurers' questions, Mole was able to find where a trap door leading into the dwarven ruin had been mortared over and helped clear the way to getting it open.

Descending into the ruins, they determined that they dated back to the First Dwarven Empire, some 5,000 years old, but more recent graffiti - in the Common of two centuries back - claimed that a paladin known as Alaric the True buried "the Bloody Spear, Vengeance of the Gods" here, leaving behind "untiring guardians" to protect it.

Forcing open a door, they found themselves in a semi-circular room full of mummified dwarves, which, when they did not immediately animate, the party laid face-down to make it more difficult for them when they did, assumedly, animate on the party's way out of the dungeon.

Exploring further, they discovered a circular hallway with a number of doors leading outward, directing Mole to lead them in the direction of the nearest source of magic it can detect.  It leads them north, where a narrow hallway branched off from the broad, curving structure they'd been following.

Carefully examining the geometric designs on the walls, Dormammu was able to figure out that they formed a very strange map of the complex, a poem written in acrostics, the nouns marking where rooms are and verbs tracing hallways.  He can't read enough of it to determine the subject of the poem.

Going down the narrow hallway, opening the door at the far end revealed a 50-foot diameter circular room, a door at the leftmost point on the curving wall guarded by a pair of suits of ornate armor.  Experimentation quickly revealed that the armor was animated, and reacted to anyone entering the room.  Lasair was almost able to enter the room unchallenged by magically disguising herself as a dwarf in matching armor, wearing a family crest copied off the door the armor is guarding - but unfortunately, one of the suits of armor seemed to see through her disguise.

We ended the session with the party debating if it was even possible to get past the suits of armor without fighting them, and concluding that, if they wanted to get through that door (and presumably, to the lance), combat was inevitable.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

The Iron Principalities, Session 7

After a week off, we're back with D&D.

Dramatis Personae:
Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 3
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 3
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 3
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 3
Mara, Human Cleric 2
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 3
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 3
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 3

Arriving at the Golden Castle and its attached village, they discovered it to be misnamed; the "Castle" is a refurbished Imperial watch-tower of a style not built in 50 years, the village is a dirt-poor hamlet of goat-herders, and the town guards are all basically the Squeaky-Voiced Teen from The Simpsons, poorly trained and overwhelmed by their positions.  The only tavern in town, The Triumphant Hare, could offer only cots and blankets in the common room for the night, with it being a toss-up whether the ale or the vegetable broth was more watered down.  Only the Cathedral, built by the stone giants Lithotomos and Petroikodromos, is in any way impressive, though questionable in its own way - the holy symbol worn by the acolyte priest they talk to, and hanging on the building itself, they realize are displayed upside-down.

Undeterred, Cor talks to first the innkeep, Egil, and then his overbearing and shrewish wife, Endora,
about the possibility of partnering with them and investing in the Hare, to help support the anticipated growth the town is hoping to see due to the new cathedral.  While Cor's bargaining is ineffectual, Dormammu turns on the charm and leaves Endora red-faced, flustered and giggling, agreeing to the deal.

Asking around, the party quickly forms a pretty good image of Count Rodrigo - that he's a selfish, vainglorious man, eager to avoid personal danger while claiming the glory of those who don't flinch from it.

Calling on Francis, his imp familiar, Dormammu uses the tiny devil to spy out the Golden Castle, watching Count Rodrigo undress for bed (kinky...) and observing the Count's spiritual advisor, Father Markus, searching through books in the library.  Sylvus, meanwhile, has Wildshaped into a cat and snuck into the castle, being mistaken for one of the castle's rat-catchers, and listened stealthily at a door, hearing two male humans, and an unknown, grating, inhuman voice arguing.  The inhuman voice commands, "I don't care for your excuses, I want that lance! Find the Empyreal Vengeance and find it NOW!"

Father Markus
Francis gets nervous, because the entire second floor of the Castle smells like Demon, and not a wimpy Quasit or simpering Dretch, something big and powerful.

Reconvening, the party assembles and digests this information, coming to the conclusion that Father Markus is the power behind the throne, and wants the lance for some nefarious purpose.

Debating on a course of action, they finally agree to present themselves, in their guise of travelers and cartographers, to the Count, assess him and Father Markus firsthand, and figure out where to go from there.

In the morning, the group cleans up as best they can (Sylvus still looks like a crazed homeless person), and present themselves to the "court" of Count Rodrigo the Black.  The Count is sitting resplendent in a chair that, in the Principalities, counts as a throne, flanked on his right by Father Markus, and attended by four guardsmen.

Count Rodrigo, the Black

As the Count launched into a recounting of how he single-handedly slew the Stone Giant Petroikodromos, complete with wild thrashings of his rapier, they realized their assessment was correct.  And it dawned on Zerin, Mivahl and Sylvus (confirmed by whispered comments between them) that they could easily take down everyone in the room.

"NOW!" yelled Mivahl, raising his hand and summoning his flail to him; Zerin charged Father Markus, grabbing him by the collar with one hand and holding his sword to the old priest's throat, while Sylvus cast Hold Person on Count Rodrigo, transforming into a wolf to ensure that the petty despot didn't move a muscle.  One of the four guards panicked and fled the room, while the other three, spears raised, advanced cautiously on the group.

Meanwhile, Cor, Kholark, Lisair, Mara and Dormammu are just going, "Uh, what just happened?"

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

The Iron Principalities, Session 6

Dramatis Personae:

Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 2
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 2
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 2
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 2
Mara, Human Cleric 2
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 2
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 2
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 2

As the Gorgon emerged blinking into the sunlight on the far end of the arena, the adventurers swiftly arranged themselves, spread across the width of the arena to minimize the damage the creature could do.  Cor threw out a minor illusion of a goblin bouncing around in a red cape, hoping to distract and delay the creature.

The Gorgon proved to be grossly outmatched by the adventurers, especially once Dormammu cast “Dissonant Whispers” on it, causing it to run headlong into a wall.  Lasair finished the creature, burying an arrow to the fletching in the bull-like monster’s heart.  

The crowd of hobgoblins in the stands went wild, with Borgai Khan, Great Khan of All the Hobgoblins, declaring that the Gorgon was to be roasted and served to the adventurers at a feast in their honor.  Two enormous casks of ale were then rolled up on either side of the Khan, and with a jeweled mace, he knocked the bungs off both of them, sending sharp, bitter ale cascading into the arena over the adventurers.  

The feast was a wild affair – in addition to the Khan and the adventurers, present were various priests, sorcerers and advisors to the Khan, members of his immediate family, as well as Erdo and the soldiers under his command.  Kholark presented the Khan with a cask of whiskey from the Shrine of Bormo, and then the party really went wild.  The last thing Mivahl remembered before blacking out was Vekra, the hobgoblin warrior woman whose advances he’d previously rejected, suplexing him through a table.  

Standing up, Kholark challenged the Khan to a friendly wrestling match, which the Khan accepted by crushing a pewter goblet between his pecs.  The fight was brief but memorable, with Kholark quickly pinning Borgai Khan for a three-count. Helping the Khan back to his feet, and Borgai seized Kholark’s wrist, raised his arm, and declared Kholark a brother.  

In the morning, Mivahl woke up with two black eyes and a number of bite marks, to the sight of Vekra putting on his championship belt.  “I think I earn this last night, yeah?” she grunted lasciviously.  Nursing a massive hangover, the Khan summoned the adventurers before him with a proposal.

The Golden Castle, nestled amidst the peaks of the Mountains of the Moon, is built atop the crypt wherein is stored the Empyrean Vengeance, an enchanted lance, forged by spirits of violence and bloodshed, the children of a god of war so ancient that its name has been forgotten even to the memories of dragons.  The current ruler of the Golden Castle, Count Rodrigo the Black, is thus the current protector of the lance’s resting place.  If the adventurers will steal the Vengeance for Borgai Khan, they can ask any boon they like from him in return.  

The four-day journey to the Golden Castle is largely uneventful – two horse-sized scorpions fall quickly to the party, with Kholark taking a spearhead-sized stinger to the chest without flinching.  

A few hours from the Golden Castle, the party is accosted by a stone giant that identifies himself as Lithotomos.  Upon ascertaining that the party are not friends of Count Rodrigo, Lithotomos tells his tale of woe; his brother Petroikodromos and himself were hired by Rodrigo to build a massive cathedral, the finest in all the Principalities.  The task was completed, but when payment came due, Rodrigo refused to pay.  When Petroikodromos protested this, he was killed by Rodrigo’s men and hung over the city gates as a warning. 

Lithotomos asks the party if they will help him seek vengeance against Rodrigo for his betrayal of the brothers’ trust and the murder of Petroikodromos.  The party agrees, seeing in Lithotomos their opportunity to steal the Empyrean Vengeance.



Thursday, August 10, 2017

The Iron Principalities: Session 5

Dramatis Personae:

Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 2
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 2 (NPC'd for this session)
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 2
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 2
Mara, Human Cleric 2
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 2
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 2
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 2

Yes, we've added an eighth player to the group, as Zerin's player's girlfriend decided to play.  This is now the largest campaign group I've run for in a decade, but it's going to be (I hope) easier to run D&D for eight players than it was to try and run Call of Cthulhu for eight players.

Setting out from Craghold to retrace their path into the Maw, the party stopped off at Anoroc's cabin, with Kholark announcing his conversion to Bormoism.  The party purchased two more kegs of Anoroc's fiery moonshine, one for Cor's new inn and one as a gift for Borgai, Great Khan of the Hobgoblins.

Moving on, as they were about to make camp for the night, they heard the trumpeting of a furious elephant and a woman scream for help.  Racing to the scene, they found an overturned wagon being systematically crushed by an enraged bull elephant, his hide peppered with crossbow bolts; surrounding the scene were the crushed and mangled bodies of three men.  Underneath the wagon, they could see a woman crouching in terror.

Assessing the situation, Sylvus approached the elephant, hands high and wide, speaking softly, trying to draw the pachyderm's attention and calm it; internally, he was ruing not preparing "Speak with Animals" that morning.  He managed to sooth the great beast, casting a healing spell to ease the pain as he removed the bolts.

While he was doing this, Kholark, Mivahl and Zerin flipped the wagon over, recognizing that it was now mostly scrap wood.  The woman beneath, however, was unharmed, identifying herself as Mara, a seeker of knowledge.  Seeing that her initial plans were scrapped with the wagon and her hired guides, one of whom had thought it smart to try and shoot the elephant for its tusks, she agreed to join the party.

Their first day of travel through the Maw was uneventful, until the party was set upon by a trio of giant vultures towards nightfall, though the party made short work of these.

Their second day proved more eventful, as a Purple Worm surfaced beneath them - A few members
of the party felt a rumbling beneath the ground and alerted the rest, allowing them to dive for higher/more solid ground as the Worm erupted, its mouth slamming into the rear of the wagon.  Zerin slipped and fell back into the wagon precisely as the Worm was lifting it sixty feet in the air.  Managing to dodge falling into the Worm's mouth, he pulled his dagger from its sheath and dug it into the worm's chitin, using that to slow his fall as he slid down the worm's back.

Having destroyed the wagon and eaten one of the oxen that had been tethered to it (the other exploded when the harness snapped and it plunged 60 feet to its death), the Worm departed.

Moving carefully, Lasair sifted through the wreckage of the wagon, managing to salvage enough rations to last the group for six days and the keg for Borgai Khan; Cor was holding on to his keg in his Handy Haversack.

Fortunately, the party was soon met by Erdo the Hobgoblin and eight other hobgoblins, all mounted.  Surveying the situation, Erdo commented that the great worms rarely venture out of the deeper desert, but that rarely is not never.  The party are encouraged to climb onto the backs of the worgs, as their camp is nearby.

Arriving in camp, the party is treated to dinner - scorpion-meat chili, a slice of hard, black bread and a mug of bitter ale, and afterwards, Vekra, one of the female hobgoblins of the group, leans towards Mivahl:

"I like a man who can eat," she grunts appreciatively, "If the night is cold for you, my bedroll is easy to find."

The party also, over dinner, ran afoul of Kargan, Erdo's second in command.  Citing the well-known deceitfulness of the "soft races," Kargan accuses the party of being assassins sent to kill the Great Khan, and calls for their immediate execution.  Erdo silences Kargan, asking if he wants to challenge Erdo for command.  Kargan demurs, losing significant face in the process.  Erdo explains to Zerin that part of Kargan's duties include killing him and taking his position if he ever becomes demonstrably weak.

After two days' uneventful riding (with Vekra giving Mivahl an almost constant dagger-look for turning down her advances), the party arrives at Molekh, capital city of the hobgoblins, entering through the "Gate of Kur, the Head-Taker," a famous ancestor of Erdo's.  Amidst staring guards and civilians, the party are led to a large tenement-style building, where they will be quartered for the night, with slaves assigned to cook and tend to their needs.  Erdo explains that while the party has been granted permission to stand before the Khan, they still need to earn the privilege of doing so, and for that, in the morning they are to fight a monster in the Arena of Molekh.

Before Erdo leaves, Zerin asks about any family crests the "House of Kur" might have, and is told it's three narrow triangles in a row.

Zerin sends a slave out for red fabric and green ink, intent on honoring the House of Kur, and Erdo specifically, for sponsoring their presence in Molekh.  He crafts a set of surcoats bearing a modified version of the House of Kur's crest, meant to show the party's subservience to the House of Kur.

In the morning, the party is brought to the Arena - a 100-foot by 50-foot area, sunken 20 feet into the ground, surrounded by stadium seating.  At one end, a massive hobgoblin sits in a private box under silken tents, surrounded by wives and guardsmen.  The stands are starting to fill with spectators, and the front row all the way around is filled with hobgoblin archers, ready to respond should anything escape from the Arena, or any competitors try anything "funny."

Seated within a waiting area for contestants, the party is offered refreshments - water, ale, battle mushrooms - while they wait their turn.  Everyone but Cor and Kholark, curious, takes a battle mushroom (though I think Mara just took one to study later for possible medicinal properties; she can correct me if I'm wrong though).  Finally, the drums begin to pound and the gate separating them from the sands of the Arena rises.

The party steps out, blinking in the sunlight.  The stands are packed to capacity.  A second gate, on the far side of the arena, below the Khan's seat, begins to rise.  From within emerges an enormous, bull-like creature, half again as large as the largest auroch any of the party have ever seen.  Its skin ripples with dense, iron plates, its horns are two huge sweeping arcs of jagged steel.  From its nostrils pour gouts of yellow-green gas.

The party curses in trepidation.  They're about to fight a Gorgon.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

The Iron Principalities: Session 4

This session saw a little bit of travel, and a whole lot of wheeling, dealing, and drinking.

 Dramatis Personae:

Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 2
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 2 (played for this session by guest player Cerenity, as Dormammu's usual player could not make it)
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 2
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 2
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 2
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 2
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 2

Setting out from Anoroc's cabin, the party had a half-day's trek through the southern peaks of the Dragonspine Mountains to reach Craghold.  After a brief but ultimately peaceful encounter with a nesting pair of Dragon-Hawks, the party arrived in Craghold - like most of the smaller settlements in the Principalities, Craghold consisted of a labyrinth of buildings clustered tightly around the central castle, and surrounded by a thick defensive wall.

Entering through the single gatehouse, Mivahl was surprised to see, mixed among the regular militia guardsmen, members of the Red Brotherhood - a famed and feared mercenary company, known to turn to piracy and brigandage during times of peace rather than stoop so low as to perform honest labor.  Their presence here as guards was truly startling.

Asking around, they readily found directions to the Whore's Arse tavern, and the party split - Kholark, Dormammu, Zerin and Mivahl went to the Whore's Arse, while Cor, Lasair and Sylvus looked for a place they could rent rooms for the night.

They found the Broken Blade Inn, a place that had recently gained a reputation as having a "bad atmosphere" and thus business was low.  The owner, Tetra, was eager to sell, but not so eager to sell at the prices Cor was offering - five gold to own an entire inn was a bit insulting, even for a woman as desperate to leave as her! She explained that the inn was haunted, and the elves detected a faint, acidic odor emanating from the basement.  Investigating, they found a narrow passageway, barely more than a crack, just wide enough to crawl through, hidden behind a wine butt.  Exploring, they discovered an ancient, brick-built room, encrusted with nitre and cobwebs, apparently abandoned for centuries.  An age-blacked, bronze-bound door on the far side of the room seemed to beckon, and Sylvus opened it, revealing another room beyond.

"We've found a dungeon," Sylvus said.  Wracking his memories, Cor identified the acidic odor - it's the smell of the Abyss.  A demon had been conjured here, possibly recently.  Closing the door and getting out of the basement, Cor sent his hawk familiar to summon the rest of the party.

Meanwhile, at the Whore's Arse... we're switching to a bullet-pointed list because a lot happened here.

  • Dormammu buys a hit of black lotus powder off a cloaked dealer, tucking it between his cheek and gum and letting the low-grade euphoria and hallucinations wash over him.  He gets to chatting up a woman he believes to be Lord Vesper's wife, eventually joining her in a curtained-off alcove.  
  • Zerin, Mivahl and Kholark watch a game of "Sting" in progress in the back corner - a completely nude dwarf is spread over a table with a large, green scorpion (a breed known as "Screamers" because their venom is so potent that it "shuts down your ability to do anything except scream.") scuttling over him.  Bets are placed on where he'll be stung and if he'll call for it to be removed before it decides to sting.  
  • Once the dwarf is stung and rolled off the table, Zerin uses his Lay on Hands ability to relieve the dwarf's pain, and then buys a round of drinks for the four of them - intrigued by what he sees on the blackboard menu, he pays out the necessary gold for each of them to have a shot of "Father Jack's Ultimate Pissup." The bartender retrieves a leaded glass bottle with a pair of tongs and carefully measures out four shots of syrupy purple-red liquid.
  • The Ultimate Pissup doesn't actually taste like anything that the party can tell; this may be due to it killing tastebuds the second it touches the inside of their mouths.  Similar in content to a blend of codeine cough syrup and 190-proof Everclear from our world, Kholark and Mivahl experience tunnel vision and think they hear dead relatives calling to them as they swallow their shots; the dwarf immediately begins projectile vomiting so hard it's coming out his nose, while Zerin loses all bowel control and instantly soils his armor.  
  • Mivahl strips down and goes in for a round of Sting, with Zerin and Kholark betting that he'll get stung on the hand - as happens when Mivahl slaps the scorpion to ensure their victory.  The group is toasted for their ingenuity, but encouraged not to try that kind of thing again.  
  • Feeling pretty good, Kholark stands up and challenges anyone in the bar to a greased wrestling match, finding a challenger in local champion Jagga, a big, shaven-headed bruiser with an eyepatch and a Fu Manchu mustache.  Though Jagga fights dirty (including kicking Kholark in the balls), Kholark not only beats him unconscious and drop-kicks him into a table, but manages to put a dent in the bar itself with Jagga's forehead.  
  • The party soon draws the attention of Borut, the castle bailiff and man they were looking to meet.  Borut is a half-orc, more than a foot taller than Kholark, and dressed in fur and leather.  They quickly befriend him, especially once Mivahl nearly dies competing against him in a "doubles match" of Sting.  Borut declares them "Alright" and encourages them to come by the castle in the morning and he'll introduce them to Lord Vesper if they're looking for work.  
With Dormammu in a narcotic haze and Mivahl half-dead from scorpion venom, the group emerges into the night in time for Cor's hawk to land on Zerin's shoulder.  

At the Broken Blade, Tetra has had enough of Cor's sarcastic comments about her competency and intelligence, and spits on the floor, seizing the pouch of gold coins out of his hand and storming away.  With the remainder of the group arriving and two members out of commission, the group decides that investigating the dungeon under the tavern would be a task best left for another day.

The night passes uneventfully and in the morning, after breakfast and a conversation with a traveling peddler named Oxnard Gorguts (especially regarding his experiments with a substance he calls "dragonpowder," and how it's the reason his hands are bandaged and his eyebrows singed off), the group sets off for the castle.

Lord Vesper is initially unimpressed with the statuette of Gilgamesh von Hohenzollern brought as tribute, but changes his mind when Dormammu and Zerin spin an epic tale of bypassing traps and a terrifying giant spider to retrieve the statuette.  When Zerin proposes an expedition to more accurately map the Maw, and gain military intelligence regarding the hobgoblin encampments therein, Vesper agrees to grant them the use of a wagon and 20 days' iron rations for the expedition, expecting a new map and valuable data in return.  

Realizing that if he wants the Broken Blade to make money for him in his absence he will need a staff, Cor visits another local tavern, the Running Boar, and offers one of the serving girls there money in exchange for her services.  Misunderstanding his offer and believing him to be a pimp, she refuses, but the other serving girl agrees.  "Great.  Go to the Broken Blade Inn and run the place until I get back.  Bye." Cor explains over his shoulder as he walks away.  

With business taken care of in Craghold, the party sets off to make their date with Borgai the Great, Khan of Khans and ruler of all the Hobgoblins.  

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

The Iron Principalities: Session 3

Last night we picked up right where session 2 ended in our Iron Principalities game, with the players bracing themselves for an oncoming swarm of the cursed Knights of the Maimed King, an order of fallen paladins exterminated for their crimes three hundred years ago, bound to the site of their demise and the sinister half-life of undeath.

 Dramatis Personae:

Kholark Sunderstone, Half-Orc Barbarian 1
Dormammu, Half-Elf Warlock 1
Zerin of Birdsall, Half-Elf Paladin 1
Mivahl Shimov, Human Fighter 1
Cor, Rock Gnome Wizard 1 (NPC'd for this session)
Lasair Lightfoot, Wood Elf Rogue 1
Sylvus Treeshroud, Wood Elf Druid 1

As the six Knights closed ranks on the adventurers' position, the battle swung wildly; Kholark, Mivahl and Zerin all came within a hairsbreadth of death under the hacking swords and gnarled claws of the ravenous undead, which seemed almost impossible to fell.  Finally, Cor dropped a Thunderwave spell, knocking the Knights back and allowing the party to make a fighting retreat.  The Knights of the Maimed King did not pursue past the walls of the Groaning Keep.

The next day as they traveled, hugging the foothills of the Ironspine Mountains at the edge of the volcanic desert known as the Maw, they spotted a lone rider, about three hundred meters away in the desert, pacing them; Lisair was able to determine that the rider was most likely a hobgoblin, mounted on a Worg, and watching them through a spyglass.

Zerin and Dormammu rode out to meet the rider, open hands held aloft to signify peace and parlay.  The rider stopped and removed his helmet, revealing the scarred, red-skinned face of a hobgoblin warrior.  "You are not a merchant caravan," he observed gruffly.

Zerin explained to the hobgoblin that they were cartographers, hired to map the hazards of the Maw, and that while the local rulers didn't like or trust each other, the group had conned all three of them into paying for the expedition.  At this, the hobgoblin burst out laughing.

"You make the princes fight...with gold? Yes? Fight with gold instead of steel.  Very funny! Wait until I tell Great Khan, princes fight with gold!"

After a little bit of further discussion, they learn the hobgoblin's name is Erdo, and he warns them to be careful - the giant scorpions of the Maw had an explosive breeding season last year, and now roam
the waste in unusually high numbers.  He offers to bring them before the Great Khan himself to repeat their tale of making the princes "fight with gold," if they will return to this spot in six days.  Dormammu readily agrees.  Calculating travel, if they drop off the naming ceremony gift at Craghold Keep and turn right around and head back, they can arrive just in time for their meeting with Borgai the Great, Khan of Khans, ruler of all the Hobgoblins.

Zerin gives Erdo a gold piece in friendship, and Erdo gives him a Zuleck - a rectangular iron coin used by the hobgoblins - in return.  They salute, and ride off in opposite directions.

The next day, mid-morning, the group are ambushed by a trio of Ogres; hoping to repeat their diplomatic approach from the day before, this plan swiftly fell apart as Mivahl and one of the horses were impaled on heavy, ogrish javelins.  Dormammu sent one of the ogres running with a casting of Discordant Whispers, as the party laid into the other two.  The ogres barely knew what hit them before they were spilling their life's blood on the ground.  Looting the bodies, they found a large copper-plated belt, set with bits of quartz and fool's gold, apparently of ogrish manufacture (like a big, cheap, badly made Wrestlemania belt), which Mivahl promptly claimed.

As they exited the Maw the next day (so it is now the 20th of Sowmont) and entered the grasslands south of the desert, towards evening they noticed the plume of smoke from a cookfire; approaching, they found a ramshackle cabin, light pouring from its windows, next to an odd shrine; a crude stone carving of a huge, beefy human male with a giant beard, standing next to a bear that was likewise bearded.

The door of the cabin opened, and a shirtless dwarf (his shirtlessness not immediately apparent due to the density of his chest and back hair) emerged, bellowing welcomes and blessings "in the name of Bormo."

Bormo, it was soon learned, was a deified hero of the region from generations past, now largely forgotten, considered the patron deity of bears, beards, manly wrestling and drinking contests.  Intrigued, the party entered the cabin, welcomed by the dwarf, who identified himself as "Anoroc, last priest of Bormo." Here they also met Jaroslav, Anoroc's bear companion - a black bear dressed in an embroidered leather vest and a chainmail hood.

Once the mugs of Anoroc's homebrew whiskey were passed around, Mivahl got into a drinking contest with Jaroslav, which he promptly lost, earning him a hearty thump of approval on the chest from Anoroc.  When asked about Lord Vesper and Craghold Keep, Anoroc responded...emphatically, spitting on the floor with a bellow of "That, to Vesper!" followed by squatting down and farting on the spit puddle, followed by "And that, too, to Vesper!"

Anoroc explained that all the drinks in Craghold were watered down.  Worse, Vesper was a demon cultist, and a very "unmanly" one at that, "if he worshiped Bormo like a real man, he wouldn't need to summon a demon to ah, how you say, put babies in his wife. Bormo make sure you have many fat babies." Anoroc had heard rumors that Vesper, his wife, and various hangers-on at court participated in monthly wine-soaked orgies of sex and black magic, and could confirm that all dogs and wolves went berserk in the vicinity of Craghold.

When asked if he had any idea how they might infiltrate the Keep to look for evidence, Anoroc considered and then said, "Craghold Keep attached to small town.  Find tavern called 'Whore's Arse' - is always open.  Castle bailiff, half-orc named Borut, drink there.  You drink with him, he take you to Vesper.  But seriously, fuck that guy. Fuck Vesper."

[DM's Note: Borgai, Bormo, Borut.  I really need to make sure I don't do that again.]

That night, Mivahl converted to Bormoism, and in the morning, Anoroc saw them off with a huge breakfast of bacon and whiskey, a small keg of whiskey, and a powerful blessing of Bormo: "May your beards stay full and righteous; may your pecs never sag; may your back hair never thin; may you always hold your drink; all this, may Bormo provide."