It has begun! The ScanCon Tournament of Champions is officially in progress! The mailer with the hidden clues arrived at each person's home last week, and not 24 hours later did we already have four players in the running for this year's ScanCon challenge gauntlet.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Goblin Infestation!
Our two heroes are a strong human paladin tank, and teeny lightfoot halfling priest who loves blessing fields and overseeing marriages. They live in Silverymoon, which is known for it's very cosmopolitan and open society, as well as it's mage schools, and robust adventuring community.
Sidebar: I love having a game with only two players who are totally into the game. They aren't interested in min/maxing, and are actually care about their characters and also the NPCs they meet. It allows me to focus on the details, to make the mundane seem important.
They usually hang out in the greatest adventuring tavern in the North. The Bright Blade Brandished. Drinking ale out of clay mugs, while planning the details of their greatest adventure. The Paladin's name is Vlad. (and I get the feeling that he's just barely a paladin) The halfing cleirc's name is Trebor.
Sidebar: I also appreciate that this is a cleric of Sheela Peryroyl. Players usually want Helm or Tempus or something related to War. It's great that we have a cleric of a second tier deity, of farming and fertility. It really adds a lot to the game.
So as they're drinking their mugs of ale in the BBB in the mid afternoon, they consult a number of flyers pinned to the wall, prompting heroes to rush to their death. Of course there are the usual calls to gather spell reagents form dangerous and uncomfortable swamps to the west, missing persons, etc. But the job that gathers their attention is the best low level adventure of all time.
A local farm with a goblin infestation.
The little greenskins are killing their chickens and whatnot, so the farmers need some stout arms with sharp blades to rid them of their deadly vermin. The pay is likely poor, but the cause is just.
Our two heroes, who are very important, travel out the the Jameson* Farmstead, a few miles travel in the rolling hills outside of the walled City-State of Silverymoon. Vlad just walks. The halfing has a fully trained riding dog (husky style), complete with riding saddle. He's almost another character. Oh, and the dog's name is Artemis.
This name is 1000% awesome as the player is completely unfamiliar with Forgotten Realms. I was silently thrilled that he picked this name. Artemis Entreri is my favorite character.
Upon arrival, they introduce themselves to the the family, and meet the entire brood of Jameson kids. aka farmhands. Then everyone gets down to negotiations.
(We actually roleplayed the entire terms of the contract) Rid us our our goblin menace, and we'll give you a few gold and some chickens.
Then the heroes find the nearby, filled in, goblin holes right next to the stinky chicken coop. Vlad grabs a trusty shovel and digs his way down and the team descends into a cramped, dark, goblin hole, ready to whoop some ass. It's only gobbos, right? What could go wrong?
They need a torch as the human needs to see. They need daggers, as the hole is goblin sized and we can't swing a sword. Nobody is trained to fight with daggers? Jeepers. Oh, and the human must fight from his knees, and sideways, with a blinding torch in one hand. The dank, soft dirt is pressing in from all around. Seriously, why don't goblins build these tunnels a tad bigger. BUILD IT PROPER SIZE!
There's really no other way to spin it. Our heroes get their asses handed to them by three goblins.
Three teensy weensy goblins. That's all I had in tonight's adventure. Three.
The dagger gets knocked out his hands, the torch gets knocked out his hands (and the gobbos stomp it out), and the goblin beaten-metal short swords just keep slicing pink skin. It was great. Try to put yourself in this moment in time. It actually felt a bit real and scary. You're 15' underground, at a backwater farm, getting sliced to death by dumb goblins, and you can't even see, stand up, or move your arms very well. For sure one of my top 20 games.
They were only able to survive by sending the trained dog down the tunnel. 'Sick em Artemis!" Two or three of our halfing's rounds were spent standing behind the dog yelling "Rip em up!" That dog totally saved the day and is the best fighter of the group. At least in gobbo tunnels. And he was wearing his riding saddle the whole time.
If you must know, our two champions escaped the dirt tunnel by the chicken coop, and retired to the farmhouse to tend their wounds. The farmer, James Jameson, kind of berated them for trying to hit the road. (The players were actually trying to call it quits after three little greenskins) Goblin infestations kind of suck. How do you know if you got them all? You really need to dig em out by the roots, and it's a dirty business. They decided to stay and work up a battle plan, while they drank ale from wooden cups, and dined on sheep ribs with mint sauce.
*Yes, I named an NPC after whisky. At least I didn't name him Dagnabit, or Mooshie.
His kids are named:
1. Jacob Jameson (m15)
2. Jacoby Jameson (m14)
3. Jambone Jameson (m13)
4. Jarvis Jameson (m12)
5. Jubilation Jameson (f11)
Sidebar: I love having a game with only two players who are totally into the game. They aren't interested in min/maxing, and are actually care about their characters and also the NPCs they meet. It allows me to focus on the details, to make the mundane seem important.
They usually hang out in the greatest adventuring tavern in the North. The Bright Blade Brandished. Drinking ale out of clay mugs, while planning the details of their greatest adventure. The Paladin's name is Vlad. (and I get the feeling that he's just barely a paladin) The halfing cleirc's name is Trebor.
Sidebar: I also appreciate that this is a cleric of Sheela Peryroyl. Players usually want Helm or Tempus or something related to War. It's great that we have a cleric of a second tier deity, of farming and fertility. It really adds a lot to the game.
So as they're drinking their mugs of ale in the BBB in the mid afternoon, they consult a number of flyers pinned to the wall, prompting heroes to rush to their death. Of course there are the usual calls to gather spell reagents form dangerous and uncomfortable swamps to the west, missing persons, etc. But the job that gathers their attention is the best low level adventure of all time.
A local farm with a goblin infestation.
The little greenskins are killing their chickens and whatnot, so the farmers need some stout arms with sharp blades to rid them of their deadly vermin. The pay is likely poor, but the cause is just.
Our two heroes, who are very important, travel out the the Jameson* Farmstead, a few miles travel in the rolling hills outside of the walled City-State of Silverymoon. Vlad just walks. The halfing has a fully trained riding dog (husky style), complete with riding saddle. He's almost another character. Oh, and the dog's name is Artemis.
This name is 1000% awesome as the player is completely unfamiliar with Forgotten Realms. I was silently thrilled that he picked this name. Artemis Entreri is my favorite character.
Upon arrival, they introduce themselves to the the family, and meet the entire brood of Jameson kids. aka farmhands. Then everyone gets down to negotiations.
(We actually roleplayed the entire terms of the contract) Rid us our our goblin menace, and we'll give you a few gold and some chickens.
Then the heroes find the nearby, filled in, goblin holes right next to the stinky chicken coop. Vlad grabs a trusty shovel and digs his way down and the team descends into a cramped, dark, goblin hole, ready to whoop some ass. It's only gobbos, right? What could go wrong?
They need a torch as the human needs to see. They need daggers, as the hole is goblin sized and we can't swing a sword. Nobody is trained to fight with daggers? Jeepers. Oh, and the human must fight from his knees, and sideways, with a blinding torch in one hand. The dank, soft dirt is pressing in from all around. Seriously, why don't goblins build these tunnels a tad bigger. BUILD IT PROPER SIZE!
There's really no other way to spin it. Our heroes get their asses handed to them by three goblins.
Three teensy weensy goblins. That's all I had in tonight's adventure. Three.
The dagger gets knocked out his hands, the torch gets knocked out his hands (and the gobbos stomp it out), and the goblin beaten-metal short swords just keep slicing pink skin. It was great. Try to put yourself in this moment in time. It actually felt a bit real and scary. You're 15' underground, at a backwater farm, getting sliced to death by dumb goblins, and you can't even see, stand up, or move your arms very well. For sure one of my top 20 games.
They were only able to survive by sending the trained dog down the tunnel. 'Sick em Artemis!" Two or three of our halfing's rounds were spent standing behind the dog yelling "Rip em up!" That dog totally saved the day and is the best fighter of the group. At least in gobbo tunnels. And he was wearing his riding saddle the whole time.
If you must know, our two champions escaped the dirt tunnel by the chicken coop, and retired to the farmhouse to tend their wounds. The farmer, James Jameson, kind of berated them for trying to hit the road. (The players were actually trying to call it quits after three little greenskins) Goblin infestations kind of suck. How do you know if you got them all? You really need to dig em out by the roots, and it's a dirty business. They decided to stay and work up a battle plan, while they drank ale from wooden cups, and dined on sheep ribs with mint sauce.
*Yes, I named an NPC after whisky. At least I didn't name him Dagnabit, or Mooshie.
His kids are named:
1. Jacob Jameson (m15)
2. Jacoby Jameson (m14)
3. Jambone Jameson (m13)
4. Jarvis Jameson (m12)
5. Jubilation Jameson (f11)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)