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)
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Silverymoon
How about some 3.5 version D&D, set in the well known Forgotten Realms world? You like? Ok.
Well, I love the feel of some low-level D&D. Where wolfs and orcs are a real menace. When the players are just starting a good multi-year campaign, and you can just feel that they are putting in lots of effort to establish their characters. I feel like a kid again. Is 19 a kid?
So we're starting off in Silverymoon. The Gem of the North. Very diverse, with some magic colleges, music colleges, and smattering of temples and whatnot. A great place to start some 1st level characters. Go out, mix it up, then get back into the city walls, and cash in.
We've had a couple of little adventures with this group, where they go into the Moonwood (the nearby forest) to investigate some troublesome druids. And they have a small battle, (which they lose) and it turns out that the druids are in league with some werewolfs. It's called The Moonwood, duh.
So what happens is that one of the characters (a halfling priest) is bitten by Mr. Werewolf. Some good guys show up and save the day and dispatch all the bad guys. They then take everyone to the keep to administer their werewolf cooties cure.
You with me so far? Good.
So the cure for werewolf cooties (right out of the rulebook) is to eat some fresh belladonna, which is superpoison. First you take a check to see if it cooks out the cooties. Then you take a second check to see if it kills you. As stated my one of my players "It's werewolf chemo."
He chews up the leaves, states that it tastes like cilantro, then starts throwing up and is pretty much a physical wreck. It doesn't cure the lycranthopy, but it doesn't kill him either. Which is kind of nice. It was a pretty cool scene that everyone roleplayed really well. It was a bit tense for a moment, because they really like their characters.
So I read a little bit more in the DM guide, and it says that it can also be fixed by casting "Cure Disease" from a 12th Level priest. Which they happen to have at the Keep.
So the agents bring in the old lady priest who twiddles her fingers and rubs her palms together. Bingo! You're cured! Everyone's happy.
Then the halfling raises his hand and says "I have a question, if you don't mind. Um. Why didn't you try the least invasive method first? You know... the one with a 100% SUCCESS RATE!?"
Well, I love the feel of some low-level D&D. Where wolfs and orcs are a real menace. When the players are just starting a good multi-year campaign, and you can just feel that they are putting in lots of effort to establish their characters. I feel like a kid again. Is 19 a kid?
So we're starting off in Silverymoon. The Gem of the North. Very diverse, with some magic colleges, music colleges, and smattering of temples and whatnot. A great place to start some 1st level characters. Go out, mix it up, then get back into the city walls, and cash in.
We've had a couple of little adventures with this group, where they go into the Moonwood (the nearby forest) to investigate some troublesome druids. And they have a small battle, (which they lose) and it turns out that the druids are in league with some werewolfs. It's called The Moonwood, duh.
So what happens is that one of the characters (a halfling priest) is bitten by Mr. Werewolf. Some good guys show up and save the day and dispatch all the bad guys. They then take everyone to the keep to administer their werewolf cooties cure.
You with me so far? Good.
So the cure for werewolf cooties (right out of the rulebook) is to eat some fresh belladonna, which is superpoison. First you take a check to see if it cooks out the cooties. Then you take a second check to see if it kills you. As stated my one of my players "It's werewolf chemo."
He chews up the leaves, states that it tastes like cilantro, then starts throwing up and is pretty much a physical wreck. It doesn't cure the lycranthopy, but it doesn't kill him either. Which is kind of nice. It was a pretty cool scene that everyone roleplayed really well. It was a bit tense for a moment, because they really like their characters.
So I read a little bit more in the DM guide, and it says that it can also be fixed by casting "Cure Disease" from a 12th Level priest. Which they happen to have at the Keep.
So the agents bring in the old lady priest who twiddles her fingers and rubs her palms together. Bingo! You're cured! Everyone's happy.
Then the halfling raises his hand and says "I have a question, if you don't mind. Um. Why didn't you try the least invasive method first? You know... the one with a 100% SUCCESS RATE!?"
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Brando-nomiCON 2012
I know that this was a long time ago, but I still want to do a recap, mostly to record the fun. The short version is that we drank some Bugman's Best Imperial Dwarven Stout, went on a geocaching adventure, shot guns at the range, arm wrestled, played croquet, had a hot-wing eating competition (5 pounds), went to the Red Dragon Inn, played The Fool (a kind of Russian euchre), ate bacon infused waffles, slayed heretics for Him, castle panicked, ate eggy-weggs, drank awesome margs (cinco duh mayo), and embarked on the most cut-throat 2nd edition dungeon crawl this side of Minthril Hall.
I used the Forgotten Realms Undermountain as the frame, but made up every room myself. I also have a tagline. "Undermountain! It's fairly unfair."
The central concept is that all your wins over the weekend are for your Team. Iron or Bronze. (I have a thing for Plato's Republic). And when you do your dungeon crawl in Undermountain, all the gold you get is banked for your Team. You may have characters from the other Team on your adventuring party, and if they die, someone from the opposite Team can come in. And here's the thing. You can't actively hurt any of the other characters. "Actively" is decided by me, on a case by case basis. If you're a Cleric, you may choose to only heal members of your Team, if you're guarding a corner, you may just dodge and hide, etc. The end result is so much fun and so devilish that I consider it the height of super-death D&D.
Here's the final Score:
Bronze Team:
13pp, 818gp, 230sp, 1755cp = (923.55gp)
Iron Team:
12pp, 914gp, 359sp, 1791cp = (1027.81gp)
Masterwork Shortsword (nonmagical +1), shield, longsword,
longbow, 2 daggers (The gear doesn't count for the total, but is considered general Iron Team gear for next year)
Best Quotes:
“I live my life drinking beer and eating
chicken wings” – Alistair Goodblood
"Wait a minute. That’s not a D20!" (Have you ever seen a player roll a D12 for while and wonder why they can't hit anything. Pure awesomeness.)
“Rat-thrasher Stroooong!”
Best Deaths:
“Oh, you’re badly injured? Here’s a healing potion. Just kidding.
That was ETTERCAP POISON!"
Swan dive into a 120’ pit, onto a granite floor.
Got into a nest of Carrion Crawlers, for the paralyze and slow
eat.
Take note that every single one of these was Cullen.
Take note that every single one of these was Cullen.
MVP: Preston.
Swooping wyvern? No problem, here’s some Call Lightning.
Fifty angry lizardmen in wooden huts? No problem, here’s Wall of Fire.
Handful of Ghouls? No
problem, here’s a Pillar of Fire.
Black Dragon near a treasure room? No problem, here’s a Blade Barrier.
Seriously,
who doesn't like casting Blade Barrier on a young black dragon? It's like
a food processor. That’s so much easier than getting a bunch of
acid on ya.
Thank you to everyone who came out and geeked out. I'll get a more robust croquet set for next year so you guys don't snap them in half in your fits of rage, and I'll brew at least 20 gallons of beer. Iron Team = 1, Bronze Team = 0
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Gunters - The First Gate
Yesterday, Ernest Cline revealed his online Easter Egg Hunt contest in the spirit of his awesome book, Ready Player One:
The clue to where the Atari2600 challenge is online is hidden in the text of the book, and that first gate is open now.
...aaaaand Solved:
The rest of you Gunters have until July 1st to catch up, because I'll be virtually camping on that gate until it opens up. That DeLorean is all mine!
Good Gunting!
Friday, June 1, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
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