Recent Posts

Popular tags: (See More...)
Pointer-left Npc_thumb
DM Angelo
Posted by the GM
The World of Eos
Farewell to lil' brotha
May 2, 996 Third Age Summers End
May 3, 996 Third Age Summers End
Daytime 60 degrees
Setting
East of Miwold, On the road to Saltmarsh

The Players
Goliath (Sellsword)
Gmüller (The Orphan Sellsword)
Thorsten Snow (The Bastard Hedge Knight)
Lil' Brotha (the Squire)
David (The Winter Wolf)
Phelan Duncan (The Magi)

Lil Brotha leaves with the Hedge knight to take him back to Miwold
After 5 miles meet Phelan Duncan travelling on the road to Saltmarsh
Another 2 miles
2pm 11 miles out
At 230pm Eat lunch
Head out again 3pm
4pm 12.5 miles total travelled
6pm it gets dark
Goliath goes down from the attack of a large constrictor snake.
During the next morning Phelan heads east to get help. He comes up to a farm and begs for help.
Meanwhile, Gmüller faces off against a WartHog that wants to eat Goliath.
Phelan arrives with help from the local Orange Farmer, Jamas. They throw the giant man in a cart to head to the farmstead.

Encounter:
Giant Constrictor Snake
1 WartHog

Loot:
N/a

Famous Quotes:
"Looks like meat is back on the menu boys!"
Session: Game Session 2 - Wednesday, May 08 2019 from 9:00 PM to 12:00 AM
Viewable by: Public
0 comments
Tags: Encounter , Recap
Scratched on a small-cut piece of python skin:
giant mite make it.
we met a new geye on the road, a majick man
i was kepin wach lat in the nite and i heard a snake slitherin
twas a massiv piethon
the giant put up a fite but it wasn't enuf and he got bit and scuized
i had to kill it meyefellf
majick man ran too get help
i kiled a huj wild bor gave it to the farmer
he brought the giant back to civalizashun
im geting gud at this fiting bisness

g
Session: Game Session 2 - Wednesday, May 08 2019 from 9:00 PM to 12:00 AM
Viewable by: Public
0 comments
Pointer-left Elderscrolllogo_thumb
Jim
Posted by the GM
Stars Without Number
Melee Builds - Missing can do more damage?
CardinalXimenes

Hitting never does less damage than missing- that's the basic principle. If a player has somehow managed to build their character and made their weapon choices so that missing has a higher average damage than hitting, then they can roll their miss damage at the same time and take the higher result.
Viewable by: Public
0 comments
Scrawled in bandit blood on a scrap of parchment:
day won in the swamp
im almost owt of water
going bac to town, to owrs after we left
a bandit stuck big brotha with a nife
eye kild the bandit
never knew i cud rid a hoarse
but i sur did lik it
eye think it’s mi nuu hoarse

g
Session: Game Session 1 - Wednesday, May 01 2019 from 9:00 PM to 12:00 AM
Viewable by: Public
0 comments
Epic!
The Oath
Valindra has been entertaining growing doubts about their mission; what exactly is it anyway? Why have they spent day after day aimlessly wandering about in the underdark looting tombs and seeking gems and trinkets, while civilization itself teeters on the edge of annihilation but a mile or so above them. She descended into these depths out of a sense of loyalty to her companions and because she had a notion that the inhabitants of this chthonic underworld might pose a threat to the dwellers on the surface. So far she has seen little of that. As a warrior priestess of Rillifane Rallathil, she has devoted her life and pledged herself to defend the Leaflord’s realm. Some in the party seem content robbing graves and looting orc lairs, but she has begun to suspect that her talents are being squandered. Truth be told, she has thought about leaving, making her way back to the surface and pledging her services to those fighting against the werewolf warlock Constantine and his bugbear hoard. But these are but idle thoughts. She would never, ever, abandon her companions.

But now.

Now, as she stares at the scene before her, she feels a unique anger rising from within. The poor svirfneblin, horribly mutilated and disfigured by their dark elf overlords, look at her with stunned eyes, barely able to comprehend their nightmare has ended at last. It is enough of a moral aberration to enslave a fellow sentient being, but to do this? Who would do such things? The gratuitous cruelty sickens her, and her mouth tastes of ash. She has heard many legends of the cruelty of the drow, but to witness it in person . . . She knows that Solera has suffered greatly at their hands as well, and with this thought, a deeper shadow darkens her brow.

Then she turns her gaze upon Dill, struck down, sprawled in his pooling blood. Of all Winter’s Bane she had the least in common with this half a man. He cared for nothing. He believed in nothing, save drinking, brawling, and slaking his hircine appetites upon anything that would spread its legs or buttocks. By all outward appearances, he was but a ridiculous fool.

And yet, he was a loyal fool and a good fighter. Always the one to volunteer to go first into danger, always in the thick of the fight despite his small stature. Never complaining. Valindra had suspected that one who truly believed in nothing would not evidence these qualities. She had always hoped that there was more to him. Perhaps she was wrong. No matter. Now, she will never know. But whatever Dill was, whatever his strengths or flaws, he was not a stranger, and she will not forgive those who did this.

And so, before the deep gnomes gather up his tiny broken body to bury as they have promised, Valindra kneels beside him and draws a single oak leaf from her pouch. Somehow, through strange enchantment, it remains green, still redolent of a summer long past. Then, her face stoic, she carefully pins the leaf to his cloak, kisses him lightly on the forehead, and whispers but a single word in his ear.

Valindra pauses for several moments before rising, her eyes dry, a lump of iron throbbing in her chest. She looks once more upon the terrified, mutilated svirfneblin. The faces of her comrades are somber in the lambent torchlight. Her gaze briefly locks upon Solera’s. A look, heavily freighted with meaning, passes between them. Then, she kneels before them all, needing them to witness what she is about to do.

The elf takes her bone handled dagger from her boot, draws it across her palm, and grasps an arrow in her bleeding fist. Holding it point down before her, blood trickling down its shaft, her voice soaring in the post fight silence, Valindra swears the blood oath of the grugach:

Here me, Children of Lolth:
Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,
Dread nor danger, nor Doom itself,
Shall defend you from my vengeance.
This I do swear.
Death I will deal you until the ending of days.
Woe I will bring you until world’s end.
May I be doomed to everlasting darkness
Should I veer from this path.
Hear me and remember my vow.
The flames of Hell will burn out
Before you forget the name, Valindra Silverbark*


When she rises, she is smiling.




*Some of this is an allusion to The Oath of Fëanor by JRR Tolkien
Viewable by: Public
2 comments