Saturday, October 22, 2011

DnD Campaign

How it Started

Everything started when a lone sorcerer with low charisma and a close-combat ranger decided to follow a strange dream premonition that involved fire. Together, Iolande and Logan traveled to a random ghost town, which still has no name. So, of course, upon finding there was no one in the area, it was suggested they go to the bar and see if anything was available.

It would have been, except a strange human bard (in possession of a magic ring that could change his gender, and also in possession of a demonic monkey named Frodo) had already consumed everything in the entire kitchen. After explaining that he’d taken all of the alcohol -and mind you, it was very good, too bad you missed it- he introduced himself as Necrim FreValmont at your service. And so, he joined their party.

They stepped outside, and a goat-man barbarian was randomly standing in the middle of the road. And so, he joined their party.


The First Dungeon - Abandoned Mansion

So, having gathered all of the player characters together in the traditional arbitrary way that none of them could possibly logically question, the group proceeded to follow the obvious plot device and proceed to enter into the mysterious abandoned mansion.

A few low level monsters were encountered, traps were set off (primarily by the party sorcerer), and an attempt at operational party dynamics was made. At one point, a cleric named Aven popped out of the floor boards when Norris pulled a lever. Oh yeah, there was a singing wall.

After quickly learning that the group was severely dysfunctional, yet another trap was activated (yet again by the party sorcerer) and everyone proceeded to fall, fall, fall, plummet to the very depths of the deepest mansion basement level.

Thankfully, the party sorcerer happened to have his feather fall necklace.
So, all having landed rather harshly (except for the one who happened to activate the trap in the first place), they began to scramble to find each other in the wood debris that they fell through. It was then that they discovered that there were many dead bodies and blood splatter plastered across the walls.

Necrim recognized the smears as fellow bards.

A man at a desk stood up, looked over, and then addressed the player characters. He proceeded to explain to them that he had an extreme distaste for bards. Iolande, of course, charged him. Tables quickly turned, however, when Necrim was grabbed and a knife placed to his pretty little bardic throat.

Logan vaguely considered allowing this strange man to execute the deed he was considering himself. However, instead of risking an alignment change, Logan decided to attempt to negotiate. After much discussion over what mundane items the characters would be willing to trade for the bard’s life, it was decided that they would trade Necrim’s spot of cheese.

The man, by this time identified as Erip Mavemil, accepted the offer. There was a flash of bright light, and the players fell unconscious.

The Curses

Upon waking up, the group felt rather fuzzy and disoriented. Norris seemed fine. Iolande felt tingly. Necrim’s fingers twitched.

Logan had a duck beak.

Teasing ensued. After an initial panic, laugh, and scarf usage to cover the deformity, the party members took twenty on exiting the building. After, of course, depositing the cleric into a jar and placing her into someone’s backpack.

Somehow, the group knew that there was a city with people in it somewhere nearby. They went.

Here in the town, the group split up to gather information about anyone who could assist in de-billing irritated sorcerers. A random old woman was encountered by Iolande and Norris in this unnamed town. She spoke cryptically, but eventually fessed up that there was a philanthropist that probably had the knowledge to assist the duck-beak issue. The party would have to travel across a large sea to reach a man named Dan. Dan the philanthropist.

Well, the entire day had been spent traveling and asking about, and the party was very tired. At some point, Norris, Iolande, and Necrim were all together, and so they stopped at a large in, hoping that eventually Logan would find his way there. After all, his player was sitting at the table with everyone else when this discussion was happening; Logan should figure it out easily enough. Iolande insisted that her pride as a female merited a room to herself, away from the guys. By the way, Logan, to her, didn’t count as male. In the meantime, Necrim should make use of himself and get some money with a bit of a performance in the bar.
 
And so Logan wandered. He had been gathering information all day as well, and night began to fall. At this point, he decided to find his party members, and at the suggestion of his feline familiar, Queen, and with the aid of his minutely meta-gaming player, Logan decided to head toward the bar-inn that conveniently housed his party members.

And it started to rain. This change in weather had started out as a rather gloomy joke, just to bother the lone sorcerer, but when the DM recognized the irony of what he had just said, he suddenly got very excited, and repeated the statement. “Yes. Yes, Sonja, it’s raining.” With that little gleeful-demonic grin that he gets every time something interesting and pride-damaging is about to occur.

And suddenly, Logan started to melt. The rain washed over him, he began to shrink, clothing and items flopped uselessly into the abandoned streets, and there he stood, fluttering his white fluffy wings -Logan, the duck sorcerer. Quack quack.

Of course, Logan panicked. Queen, being a smart familiar, grabbed Logan’s items (let’s not question how) and took off after the waddling creature.
Back at the bar, a vague discussion about chicken dinners started up. Necrim was playing his lute, singing and dancing as a golden female, and collecting the bits of copper and silver tossed his direction. The party members were enjoying the music, along with everyone else in the bar. A random person entered, and in behind him waddled a white duck that immediately took to hiding.

Of course, Iolande spoted the bird with a rather masterful check. Chaos ensued, people started chasing after the animal, random bar people attempted to grapple it and there was much discussion on eating the duck. Queen, once again, being a very helpful familiar, eventually managed to communicate to a remarkably slow ranger that the duck was actually Logan. Having realized this, the party quickly obtained the duck and brought him upstairs.

Logan changed back upon being dried with a towel, and the incident really wasn’t spoken of much since.

The party proceeded to search for an available boat with a crew that would be willing to put up with the discombobulated party. Eventually, a man was found willing to take them, but it would cost one-hundred gold per person, half that for each animal.

They considered placing Necrim in a cargo crate.

After much negotiation, the price for animals was treated as one extra person. The party quite happily moved onto the ship, and they took off.

The Second Dungeon - Mephit Ship

On the ship, a grand time was had by all whenever fortitude saves were not being made for sea sickness. The cleric was taken out of her jar so that she could have a girl’s night out with Iolande. The girls talked, drank, sang, marched around on deck like they owned it, and played shuffle board.
 
Norris, the fluffy barbarian, took off his armor and laid out in a blue speedo to catch some sunrays.

Necrim and Logan, being mischievous arcane users and having idiots for players, decided it was a good idea to explore the ship. While the other party members were, well, partying, the two spellcasters moved off on their own and disappeared into the depths of the ship to attempt to discover how the boat was powered. They entered through an employees only section, and ducked into side cabins to hide from passing crew members.

It was here when the captain of the ship came running down the hallway, calling for help from anyone on board who had combat skills. Of course, Necrim leapt to help, and Logan reluctantly but willingly followed afterward. A call to arms to all aboard the ship caught the other party members’ attention. Norris grabbed his axe and dashed into the dark under layers. Iolande and Aven prepared their weapons and they, too, responded to the need for aid.

The party, now reassembled, ran to the southern end of the ship, dipped through dark hallways, and were greeted with billowing steam and water flooding the hallways. Having already been once traumatized by changing into a duck at an inopportune moment, the sorcerer decided to hang back in the hallway as the others charged forward. He had range weapons and abilities; that would have to do.

Iolande and Norris valiantly entered into the dark and misty atmosphere of the engine room. Suddenly, strikes of water and steam shot out at them from the darkness, and initiative was rolled. Norris then remembered that he had dark vision, and then it was discovered that their enemies were a set of loose water and steam mephits that were used to power the boat. It was also then that Norris realized that he had been so excited to enter into battle, he had forgotten to dawn his armor, so his only protection from the creatures was his snazzy blue speedo and any dexterity his goat-like limbs could muster.

It was dark, the fight was confusing. Necrim attempted to use his light spell and bardic music to assist his combating allies. Aven charged in head on, mace in hand. Iolande and Norris fought in the darkness side by side like comrades should.

Until Norris accidentally critically hit into the wrong square, and delivered an awful blow to Iolande. The ranger, quite offended and running on a battle-high, returned the hit as revenge- coincidentally criting that hit as well. Norris fell under the blow of her long sword, and she was left to defend against a shimmering, shifting water mephit on her own.

The round ended, and come Norris’s turn, instead of rolling a d10 to stabilize, he stood back up. His body mutated, legs deformed, hair dissipated, and goat-like features began to fade into the fa├žade of a frighteningly hairy man. Rage overtook his mind, and axe in hand, he proceeded to violently attack any creature in his path, comrades included.

Iolande didn’t mind taking Norris down a second time.

Eventually, the cleric got the last hit in, and the creatures were defeated. An unconscious Norris was dragged into the hallways to be nursed, and a meeting with the ship’s captain was held. A bit of a cash reward was given, which more than handled the fair it took to get on the boat to begin with, and the group was let off at their destination.

Dan the Philanthropist
To be continued.

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