Sunday, June 3, 2012

It's Not Really a TPK...

... if all the henchmen escape.

Right?

Honestly, though, I'm really pleased with how the wholesale slaughter of PCs came to pass.  The predicament in which they found themselves was very clearly a result of the choices they had made.  This wasn't a "random encounter table result: bodak.  Everyone dies"-type TPK.  Additionally, there was a light of improbable herosim at the very end which was something of a redeeming factor.

And so, without further ado, the tale of the ill-fated Sixth Expedition into the Dwarven Fortress of Sandygates:

The three leaders of the expedition were Gallivan the paladin of Iana, Erggumun the elven nightblade, and Scarth the thief.  In Gallivan's service were Tormond the scarred hammermaiden and Verimyr the healer, while Erggumun led Durgrim the berserker dwarf and his faithful war-hound Monty.  Scarth was accompanied by the agile spearman Aldric.  The stated intent of this expedition was to explore the newly-discovered fourth level of the dungeon, map the unmapped areas of the second level, and bring a barrel of ale to the troglodyte champion K'rrk in exchange for knowledge of the location of treasure.  They couldn't get the barrel in through the arrow slits (after five expeditions, they've figured out how to open the front gate, but they left the key in the dungeon while fleeing from green slime previously), so they decided to head down to the second level first.  There they recovered a little treasure from some ancient bedrooms, and left a large bathroom more-or-less unexplored (after the green slime on the bathroom ceiling previously, and K'rrk's warning about the Beast In The Pipes, they were rather leery) before being attacked by a swarm of skeletal ferrets.  These wounded many members of the party, and Aldric was badly hurt.

While the ferrets were being dealt with, the ghostly shade of Lasai, Scarth's former henchman who he had killed and left in the dungeon, appeared seeking revenge upon her murderer.  She aged him significantly before being driven off by holy water and enchanted blades.  Tormond, Gallivan, and Verimyr all recognized her and questioned Scarth briefly, to no avail.  Gallivan laid hands on Scarth and they continued to the north stairwell to go to the fourth level.

Upon opening the door to the fourth level, they found a large open space with what appeared to be metalworking equipment and mechanisms full of blind cave humanoids, including their women and children.  Errgumun cast sleep into the mass, felling a few, but then they fled into the darkness beyond the light emitted by Gallivan's sword.  Scarth threw a torch into the room, revealing a group of archers assembling just beyond the edge of the light (biological note - they may be blind, but apparently they can sense light.  Perhaps an analog to the parietal eye), while spearmen moved around the edges toward the stairwell.  Errgumun attempted to put the archers to sleep, but it was clear from the noises in the room that more of the creatures were gathering around the sides of the stairwell to flank if the party charged the archers, so they staged a fighting retreat up the stairs with Scarth pouring oil as they went.

They chose the crypts on the second level as the location to defend, since they came in that way and knew it to be clear (good thinking).  When they finally lit the stairs, many of the enemy burned to death, but the few that made it through managed to injure Tormond and slay Monty, over whose death Errgumun was greatly dismayed, though he put down the surviving creatures his final sleep spell before they could injure anyone else.  They also discovered that the creatures had smeared their blades with feces, and there was much fear of disease.  Gallivan used the last of his laying on hands on Tormond and they decided to go back down to avenge Monty and wipe them out once and for all, with the hopes that  the enemy's strength had been broken in the fire trap.

And that's about where everything started to go really wrong.  Gallivan took the lead, magic shield in hand, and opened the door at the bottom of the stairs to a fusillade of arrows.  He avoided all but one which caught him in the shoulder and reduced him to 4 HP; he fell back, handing the shield off to Tormond, while the party's archers (Verimyr, Scarth, and Errgumun) advanced to behind Tormond and began firing into the enemy, winnowing their ranks.  When only one, an armored sergeant, remained, Tormond charged him, leaving a gap in the front line, while Errgumun moved out to the side of the stairwell.

The enemy's reserve of axemen, waiting in the darkness, took this as their opening and charged the door to the stairwell.  They felled Scarth instantly, and injured both Verimyr and Errgumun.  They also cut off Errgumun and Tormond from escaping up the stairs.  Gallivan held them off long enough for Verimyr to escape, taking the injured Aldric and rearguard Durgrim with him, before being struck down at the foot of the stairs.  Errgumun managed to slip silently away from his pursuers, and Tormond found herself surrounded.  She maneuvered about, seeking an advantageous position and moving towards the stairwell, but Errgumun grew impatient and made a break for it while she had them distracted, lighting the oil in Scarth's pack afire as he went.  Three creatures split from fighting Tormond and pursued him; two were slain by the fire, but the last cut him down halfway up the stairs.

And so Tormond found herself alone in the lair of the enemy, outnumbered eight to one, her mentor and lover Gallivan incinerated by an ally, with a roaring wall of flames between her and the only known exit.  So she did what any right-thinking warrior woman would do - slew her foes to a man, sustaining only minor injuries, sacked their lair, discovered their terrible deity, desecrated their vile altars, looted the bodies of her fallen allies, stripped Gallivan's corpse of his armor, put the body in a sack, and began the long, slow trek back up the stairs (where, incidentally, she killed the creature that had slain and was now eating Errgumun).  She encountered no resistance on her way out of the dungeon.

It was a very tense combat.

Durgrim's group was only marginally less fortunate; they were accosted by Lasai's wraith, who demanded a proper burial for her body.  With no magic weapons to resist her, they agreed, and were lucky enough to meet no further enemies on the way out.  She was buried in the sand outside the dungeon with a marker made from the shattered planks of the ale barrel.

Upon reconvening, all present agreed never to set foot in that accursed dungeon ever again, going so far as to sell the map to a merchant company specializing in dwarven antiquities.  Durgrim retired to parts unknown, while Verimyr went back to hunting and trapping in the marshes.  Aldric disappeared quietly, and Tormond paid to have Galladin resurrected...  but he came back female, thereby complicating things greatly.  As a paladin of Iana, returning as a female opened up advancement for him among the amazons, and he (er, she) set out to the north for Myrmidia, leaving Tormond alone with her scars, the magic shield, and the only knowledge of both the location of the chest of buried treasure and the terrible thing imprisoned beneath Sandygates...

Starmada Sunday Retrospective: Starmada as War

After responding to a comment on my last post about Admiralty Edition, I spent a little time reflecting on our Starmada experience and realized that, in the latter days of Admiralty, we achieved Combat as War.  We managed to do sufficient planning in design that we had ameliorated the impact of both tactics and luck.  We (and by we I mean mostly Jared, Matt, and I) were indeed out to win the battle before it began, rather than going for a 'fair fight'.  The only thing we needed, which we tried to achieve but repeatedly failed at, was resource management between battles (because that's how you make iterated Combat as War interesting).

Friday, June 1, 2012

Resolving ACKS' Quantum Death

One complaint with ACKS voiced by the Rpgist is the problem of 'quantum death' which results from the way the Mortal Wounds table works.  When you're reduced to 0 HP, you wait until you receive treatment to see just how badly injured you are.  This means that people may burn Cure spells or actions on someone who's very likely splattered everywhere, which is both a waste of resources and kind of silly.  I will be honest in saying that I don't address this part of the problem directly; however, there is a secondary problem, that of description, to which I have something of a solution.  This issue is that when someone goes down with a mortal wound, you as the DM can't very well describe where or how they've been hit until they're treated and the injury is rolled; if you say they got hit in the head and they instead lose an arm, that's no good.  My solution to this is as follows:

Roll the d6 when the person takes the wound, and the d20 for severity when treated.  The columns of the chart, corresponding to the results of the d6, are well-correlated with different hit locations.  Hence, if someone rolls a 6 on their d6 for hit location, you can safely say "Bob's been hit in the head with a spear."  5 is face, 4 is legs, 3 is arms, 2 is lower torso, and 1 is upper torso.

I tested this idea briefly when Joe fell into the 'cube last week.  He went below 0 while being pulled out, so I ruled that it was a mortal wound to the legs and that rather than rolling a d6, he got a 4.  Seemed to work.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Journal of Gallivan Stoneshield, Part 1

Fouler things can lurk in dark,
Indeed, than you and I.
So trust not words to make their mark,
When comes your final sigh.

Let all your hopes be stone and steel,
Your dreams all do or die,
And when death comes,
Let all your sons drink one for you and I.


- Callon Silvertongue, “The Adventurer’s Creedo”


(This post brought to you by Tim, recording in detail the events glossed over here.  I believe he provides a more-or-less hourly in-game summary, written during the rest turn taken every six turns. - ed.)


The Dardantine Razors, we call ourselves. It’s a foolish notion, to think we are strong, just because we have a name. We barely know each other, and it takes one traitor to remind us all how fragile we can be.

Of the 16 members of our caravan, only Errgumun, Yolanda, and myself survive. Argos the Mage is gone, without a corpse to mark his passage. The elf and I suspect that our magical stupor was his doing, and Yolanda fears the worst. Our employers and hirelings are dead, the goods we were transporting long gone. All we have is what little we carried with us. It may be enough to get back to civilization, but it will be a long time before we again trust a stranger so easily.

It has been two days since we were set upon, and we’ve managed to make it to the town of Deal. The hour is late, but we have found acceptable lodging for the night. No one in town has seen our missing mage, but I’ve instructed the barkeep to let us know if any news comes of him. On our march, we passed an enormous gate in the side of a canyon wall about 3 hours walk from town. Tomorrow we will return to it. It seemed relatively undisturbed, and lost treasures may lie within.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 23rd day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.
(612 years after Iana’s Unification of Myrmydia)


I hired a young armorer today, to be my squire and receive instruction in the knightly ways. Tormund Smithson will accompany us on our expedition to the stone gate, to map its depths and assist us in fighting off the creatures of the deep. He’s a strong enough young lad, though he seems ill-at-ease in the company of strong warriors such as we. His parents are dead of plague, and he seeks some direction in his life. Perhaps we can provide it.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 24th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

After replenishing our supplies and equipping young Tormund, we made our way south, to the stone gate. The march was long, given the heat and oppressive conditions of the Shieldlands. The gate seems even larger up close, a full 15 feet tall and twice as wide. It is adorned with images of dwarves carving stone and laboring over forges. The gate is flanked by many arrow slits that seem to cover the approach, and the thing itself is made of solid stone. Spires with what appear to be bowls atop them extend from the top of the structure, probably for catching rain. We have decided to dub the ruin the Dwarf Fortress for now.There is no visible way to open the gate, and its stone doors weigh more than even Tormund and I could ever hope to move. We plan to boost Errgumun through one of the arrow slits to scout ahead while the rest of us climb up after him.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 24th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Yolanda is dying. While we were exploring the ruin, a giant spider came upon Errgumun. In his panic, he called for help, and while Yolanda was able to get to him in time, I found myself harried by an enormous swarm of bats roused by the noise. While I struggled to find my way through the swarm, Yolanda and Errgumun fought and killed the spider, but not before it managed to bite her. She has only a few moments left before the poison takes her. She desires burial with a proper holy symbol of Iana, hers having been stolen by the bandits that ambushed us. We will do what we can to see her wish fulfilled. Tormund, who I instructed to hang back when the fighting began, has helped me to construct a crude litter with which we can carry her back to Deal. We mean to look around this ruin a bit more before we depart, but we will return here after we have had a chance to recuperate from our adventure. May Iana guide our friend’s soul to the Hall Among the Stars, and help us to carry on her works in this world.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 24th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

After burying our brave friend Yolanda--may she rest in peace--Errgumun sold the treasure we recovered from the Dwarven ruin. A priest by the name of Agord wishes to join us on our next trip into the dungeon. He seems well-equipped, and his healing magic could make the difference between life and death in that dark place. He worships the elven sun god, a strange and foreign god to me, but Errgumun assures me that he seems to be a man of character.

After we finished selling our treasures, Errgumun disappeared off to the local tavern to drink and whore. I expect to see him in the morning, but for now, I rest.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 25th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Errgumun seems to have a acquired a war dog during last night’s adventures. It seems to be trained well enough. At least, it hasn’t bit me yet. After a long hike back to the Dwarf Fortress, Agord, Errgumun, Tormund, and I prepare to enter its depths once more. Errgumun informs me his dog’s name is Monty.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 26th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Undead! As we were exploring the dungeon, we came upon a pack of skeletal dogs... they would surely have torn us apart, if not for Agord’s timely intervention. He held his holy symbol aloft, and a burst of sunlight forced them back. I have a renewed respect for the elf god he worships.

Additionally, I discovered a powerful magical artifact amid some old boxes in a dwarven store-room. The sword (which I have not yet named), gives off a cool blue light in the dark, and it is elaborately made, with jewels inlaid in the hilt. I expect it shall be a constant companion through my future adventures.

Ah! Errgumun has just discovered a small room full of levers. I shall go investigate.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 26th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Alas, poor Agord. He saved us, but we could not save him... As we proceeded deeper into the dungeon, we came upon a corridor with a sloped floor. We should have known it was a trap. When he stepped on a pressure plate in the floor, grease shot out and a pit opened in the floor. Before anyone could do anything, he had slipped into the slimy embrace of a gelatinous cube. He was immediately paralyzed. He couldn’t even scream as his legs began to dissolve.

I asked Tormund to hold the end of a rope as I tied the other around my waist. He lowered me into the pit, and I attempted to grab Agord by the head, but the cube rose up to try and smite me. By the time I was finally able to grab him and haul him out of the pit, he was already gone. The paralysis stopped him from using the light of his lord to help himself, and there was naught we could do to bring him back, so Errgumun killed the foul creature with his bow. When it was dead, we fished an ornate runed gladius out of the dormant slime. Now we stand on the other side of the pit. A staircase leads deeper into the ruin. Though it pains me to leave him here, we are determined to see what it is Agord died for before we carry him out of this dark place.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 26th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Down the stairs were hallways gated with porticulles, a great hall with blind (but friendly) ogres, and a small pack of troglodytes led by their champion, Kirk. We also found a small chapel filled with cave dwellers. We chose not to engage them.

Above the great hall we found some spellbooks and dwarven ledgers and killed some rats. Now we leave this accursed place. We will bury Agord beneath the sand, in the eyes of his shining god.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 26th day of the 7th moon, 612 A.U.

Errgumun has hired a saucy dwarf named Durgrim. He can certainly hold his liquor. Well kind of. The other day Errgumun woke up in a jail cell with another nightblade. He stole her treasure map while she slept. The very same night, Durgrim went to bed with a local merchant’s daughter. Who knows what may come of this...

I also have a vague recollection of confronting the local priestess of Ashtar, and perhaps... fighting her eunuch guard? But... most importantly... it seems Tormund is not a man.

- Galivan Stoneshield, 3rd day of the 8th moon, 612 A.U.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

On Mapping

I think I realized how I handled mapping wrong during last session.

The first mistake was giving Tim graph paper instead of blank printer paper.  The second was giving him dimensions of the rooms.  These combined let him generate a more-or-less canonically accurate map with high precision.

For some reason, I get the impression that this isn't how things are supposed to work.  Like PC maps are supposed to be sketchy and iffy, with creating one being an act of artistic interpretation and reading one being an act of intuition and not a little trepidation.  To this end, I think ditching graph paper for players is probably a good first step.  I also think that having a rule of "DM is not permitted to look at player map" would likely help, but that's slightly more extreme.

Thoughts?

Monday, May 28, 2012

Twenty Questions of Interest to My Players

By way of Jeff's Gameblog (yeah, I know I'm behind the times on this one, but it only just became relevant).

What is the deal with my cleric's religion?

Religion on the Inner Sea is much like that of ancient Earth or the Wilderlands of High Fantasy - there are a number of pantheons, all of which think the others are wrong, and which all grant spells to their followers.  There are even localized minor deities who only have power within certain areas (the frog-god of the marshes, for example).  Pick pretty much any ancient historical deity and you're good to go.  In addition, the following deities have been established:
  • Iana - Kind of an Athena-meets-Artemis type Myrmidian deity of planning, strategy, knowledge, and hunting.  Favored weapons are bow and spear.  While primarily worshiped by Myrmidian amazons, there are evidently a few male knightly orders dedicated to her outside of Myrmidia (probably based out of Talas, primarily).  Myrmidian males think that said knights are sissies who should be worshiping...
  • Myr - Ares meets Pan; deity of war and male fertility.  Actually a deified warrior-king, ancestor of all modern Myrmidians.
  • Harmakhis - A Sorosi mercantile deity with something of a dark side; he has several orders of assassins dedicated to his service under the motto "Even death can be bought and sold."
  • Ashtar - Urdukhar female fertility deity with many bladedancers dedicated to her service.  Rival of Iana.
  • Ammonar - Elven sun god, from whom the elves claim their imperial lineage is directly descended.  (Simple guide to elves: nightblades are ninjas, spellswords are samurai wizards, and Ammonar is Amaterasu).

Where can we go to buy standard equipment?

Any town of reasonable size can cover you for most weapons.  Armor can be a bit tricky, and finding horses or war dogs in any number will likely require a trip to Freeport.

Where can we go to get platemail custom fitted for this monster I just befriended?

That's actually well-covered under the combined "prices for large armor" and "commissioning an item" rules.  It might take a couple days, but most large towns should be able to do it.  Whether or not they'll be willing to deal in monstrous armor is another question...

Who is the mightiest wizard in the land?

Across the entire Inner Sea, it could be any of the Talasi archmages or whatever mysterious force rules Dardantus.  Within the Shieldlands, it's likely a high warlock of some chaos cult or other.  In either case, it's not well known.

Who is the greatest warrior in the land?

Within the Shieldlands, it's likely the lord of the Myrmidian outpost of Pike.  There's some speculation that the Dirk of Dirk Hill could give him a run for his money, but since the position of Dirk changes hands so often, and since they're on the other end of the trade road, this speculation has never been tested.  Redjack of Freeport is also a renowned swordsman, and there are a lot of old tales about the toughness of the Judge of Deal.  Finally, there are any number of small-time bandit chieftains out in the badlands who manage to keep control of their cronies and not get eaten by monsters, which takes a fair amount of skill.

Who is the richest person in the land?

The merchant factors of the Caravaners and the Boatmen are no doubt quite wealthy, and it is believed that Redjack has a large stash of hidden treasure from his pirate days.

Where can we go to get some magical healing?

Temples, naturally.  Even in Deal, there are 17 castings of Cure Light Wounds available per day from the temple of Ashtar at 10gp a shot for worshippers, or twice that for those who worship other gods.  Non-magical doctors are also available for hire, and while less reliable than magical healing, they're also much less expensive.

Where can we go to get cures for the following conditions: poison, disease, curse, level drain, lycanthropy, polymorph, alignment change, death, undeath?

Again with the temples.  Well, poison will generally kill you straightaway, but disease and curse can both be taken care of at temples.  Level drain isn't a thing; I'm trying out the rule that undead which would drain levels instead apply aging.  Lycanthropy is curable with Cure Disease or belladonna.  Polymorph can be fixed via Dispel Magic, alignment change by Remove Curse, and death or maiming by Restore Life and Limb (incidentally, there is one casting per day of Restore Life and Limb available from the temple of Ashtar in Deal for 500gp for worshipers, twice that else).  The solution to undeath, naturally, is redeath followed by RL&L.  Non-magical healers can also cure disease much more cheaply than clerics, but again with a much higher rate of failure.

Is there a magic guild my MU belongs to or that I can join in order to get more spells?

There's no large, regional guild in the Shieldlands, no.  There are a few wizards about in large towns like Deal, and while they may form small local organizations, their level caps out around 4th and they don't have access to long-range resources or high-level spells.  Might still be worth making contact with for help finding sages, getting items identified, and having books translated if you plan to be in one particular town a lot.

Where can I find an alchemist, sage or other expert NPC?

Alchemists and sages are much more likely to be found in Freeport than anywhere else in the Shieldlands, but mage's guild connections might let you find amateurs out in the sticks.

Where can I hire mercenaries? 

Ha!  Where can't you hire mercenaries is a better question.  Even the smallest villages are likely to have a few down-on-their-luck guys with spears looking for easy money.  Now, if you want good mercenaries in quantity, you're going to have to head to Dirk Hill, Pike, or Freeport.

Is there any place on the map where swords are illegal, magic is outlawed or any other notable hassles from Johnny Law?

Not in the Shieldlands, no.  Hell, even murder won't get you in all that much trouble most places.  The common folk fear magic, and might not feel particularly kind towards those who use it, but it's more of a "pitchforks and torches" type response than orderly law enforcement.

Which way to the nearest tavern?

Down towards the docks, generally.

What monsters are terrorizing the countryside sufficiently that if I kill them I will become famous?

There aren't really any of regional scale presently.  The towns of the Shieldlands are relatively independent, and each is plagued by their own troubles.  Solving those would earn you heroic status in a particular town, and you might be heard of elsewhere, but 'famous' would take some doing.

Are there any wars brewing I could go fight?

Well, there's some rumbling of a bandit lord south of Deal gathering an army...

How about gladiatorial arenas complete with hard-won glory and fabulous cash prizes?

There are some small-scale back-room type operations in Freeport and Dirk Hill, but if you want serious gladiatorial action you'll have to head to Dardantus and fight your way up the ladder.

Are there any secret societies with sinister agendas I could join and/or fight?

Yes, yes there are.  No, I will not tell you who they are, what they want, or where to find them.

What is there to eat around here?

Roast goat and dates if you're feeling fancy, rat jerky and beans if you're not.

Any legendary lost treasures I could be looking for?

They're out there, but I don't know what they are yet.  Fortunately, until you go do research on them, I don't need to.


Where is the nearest dragon or other monster with Type H treasure?

Legend has it that in elder days, when the dwarves lived in the Shieldlands, they had a veritable mountainhome here which fell to a dragon.  The location of the city has been lost, but there's likely a dragon there if you can find it.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

ACKS: First Session Complete

Well, first round of reviews of the first session of ACKS are in:

"More fun than 3.5" - Tom

"More terrifying than that OD&D game I played on the internet once" - Joe

"It's not cursed!" - Tim, about his sword (it's cursed)

Mission accomplished, I think.  Monsters were stabbed, treasure was gathered, PCs were slain (sorry Joe), and fun was had.  In eight hours of playing, the Dardantine Razors managed two expeditions into the dwarven ruins south of Deal with the aid of their trusty henchman (er, woman) Tormond and their pyrophobic war dog Monty.  About an hour was spent before the game finalizing character sheets and hiring, followed by about two hours of adventuring for the first expedition, then an hour of pizza and dividing loot, three more hours of adventuring for the second expedition, and a final hour of more hiring and carousing (note to self - in future, roll once on the debauchery table, rather than once per 100 gold pieces spent.  I think since the PCs decided they were going to bum around Deal for a week, I might have to spread those rolls out, because otherwise that was one hell of a night...).  One thing that this timing analysis leads me to believe is that a 3-4 hour weeknight session is probably very viable, especially if hiring and purchasing is done via internet beforehand.  This pleases me.

Other miscellaneous notes:
  • Clerics and bladedancers may have the best saves except for craftpriests, but you wouldn't know it from the way Joe was rolling...  On the other hand, turning undead turned a "We're screwed" encounter into an easy mop-up operation.
  • Gelatinous cube paralysis lasts a long-ass time.  Far too long for Joe's cleric to save himself from bleeding out.
  • I was pleased with Tim's immediate response to "Well, you've lifted the portcullis, but it doesn't want to stay up." - "We nail it open with iron spikes!"  Now if only they'd remembered to use the ten-foot poles on the gellycube pit trap...
  • Reaction tables - with Diplomacy, +1 Cha, and no weapons drawn, sometimes the ogres are friendly.  Likewise, sometimes the rodents of unusual size lurk around the edge of your torchlight, waiting for either an opportunity to attack or a reason to flee.
  • Dungeon mapping - actually got Tim to map this session.  He found it somewhat fun, I believe.  I might be helping a bit much, but I have yet to develop a precise vocabulary for describing what they see in a mappable fashion.  (See also this post from the future)
  • Gridless combat - ye gods, why did we never do this before?  Worked pretty well, I think.
It's bedtime now, though.  I think Tim's going to write up a journal-style report in exchange for bonus XP; it will likely find its way here.