Good afternoon: I started my Sunday group as a bit of a lark to play test stuff*, but I've grown attached to the group. Initially, it was show up if you can, and if you can't we will grab more players. I will be taking this campaign into the Dragon Heist when it is released on the 7th, but would like to get a feel for who I'll be DMing for. What I want to know: (1) Are you available 5:30 PST on Sundays (except weeks where the Chargers play at 5:30 PST on Sundays, and except for next Sunday because I will be out of town)? (2) What's your favorite role? (3) Preferred split (RP/Combat/ Exploration)? (4) Age? (5) Are you employed? - serves as a proxy for being responsible (6) While you are not tied to this, give me an idea of a character you would like to play based on the summary below ** * This started with the Lost Tales of Myth Drannor **I apologize for not having edited it to make it good, but it will give you an idea. Here is a brief summary, which I have not made a full edit on: "SESSION 1 Chapter 1: A Call to Action They were all at home when they received the call from Vuhm Yestral, the First Lord of Hillsfar. The fighter Basil Readheart was lying on his cot when he heard a knock at the door. The horned Keats Temple was lightly strumming her harp in an isolated meadow when her messenger arrived. The half-orc Kreo Eple had just finished sharpening his blade when a scrawny red headed boy entered the smithy and handed him a letter. Pelan Laras was perusing his tomes of books when he was abruptly interrupted by a sharp rap at his door, and the note slid under the door. Phred was in engaged with his daily communion with his patron when he was snapped from his trance by a light tap on his shoulder. Spectro was in the lab perfecting the nuances of his latest healing spell when her messenger interrupted him. The note made clear that Kreo Ople and Keats Temple, might be in for a trouble in the town of Hillsfar. While the First Lord made clear that he had done everything in his power to expel the remaining ill-will towards non-humans borne from his predecessor's Great Law of Humanity, old habits die hard; Incidentally, this was the very reason Lord Yestral needed the group. His predecessor had essentially undone centuries of trust and alliance building with the enactment of this law; and Hillsfar was in need of trading partners and allies. His mandate to the worthy adventurers was to do everything in their power to show the non-human races that Hillsfar was committed to remedying their past wrongs and re-extending a hand of friendship to the non-human races. ______*_________________________________*______________________________*__________________________*_______________ Chapter 2: Into the Darkwood Webs The unlikely party met on the road leading to Hillsfar, and upon learning they all shared the same quest, set up camp for the evening to get to know who they would be working with it. It was refreshing to Keats and Kreo that these humans did not same to care what race they were - a friendship developed almost immediately. As the party began cleaning camp to head to Hillsfar, three exhausted Sprites erupted into the camp, not even bothering to be invisible. They informed the party that: The Elven Court was neutral ground for the races of the surface elves in ancient time. Divinely inspired, a place of judgement, contemplation, and peace, where the elves could bring their quarrels and have them solved without war. Before even the golden age of Myth Drannor and the Elven empire of Cormanthyr, it was attacked from below by Drow and Duergar. They reshaped the city and its temple to honor Lolth. The drow later abandoned the city and its environs, but left behind many fell things. In the years after the woods around the Elven Court became known as the Darkwood for in the shadows of the trees monstrous creatures and triwsted plants now flourished. As evil rises and falls in the Cormanthor Forest the boundaries of the Darkwood sometimes flex and change. One such possibly temporary change has resulted ion Kaltensendra, a dryad, and her oak tree (and their home) being surrounded by monstorous creatures and shadow. Kaltensendra attempted to get help from a group of Wood Elves, but only the youngest warriors would venture into the Darkwood. While they and the sprites that live in the upper branches of the Dryad's oak tree did kill some of the monsters, the wood elves were routed. Fearing for the fate of their homes and families, as well as that of the dryad, the sprites sent three of their tribe for help. The party quickly agreed to help, realizing that this was precisely the type of thing they could do to further their mandate from the First Lord and begin repairing relations between the races. What's more, the party acted selflessly, not even inquiring as to what type of reward they may receive for their good deeds. The Sprites quietly took note of the kindness of these humans, and reflected on whether the stories they had heard about the greed and selfishness of humans might have been embellished a little bit. Trouble found the party quickly, almost immediately in fact. As the party ventured through an unusual path to avoid the Wood Elves (the Sprites explained they did not want to have to debate with the elves about Human presence in the woods - the Wood Elves did not know that this party might actually be one of the good ones). The party stumbled upon three Wolves preparing to feast on three Deer. In a moment of clarity, Keats attempted to frighten the wolves off by unleashing her Thaumetergy spell and creating a loud thunder clap around the wolves; they were not frightened... they were frustrated their meal might have been scared away and decided to substitute tasty deer flesh with human flesh. Kreo Eple rushed in like the mad Half-Orc Fighter that he is, swinging his longsword at the first wolf as he growled as warriors often do. Sadly, Kreo focused more on his image, and not enough on his swing, his blade flew harmlessly above the Wolf's head. In response, two of the Wolves teemed up each biting a different calf on Kreo. While they were unable to match Kreo's strength and bring him to the ground, they had essentially rendered him useless, or so they thought. Upon observing their brave warrior receive wounds that would have slain a lesser man, Spectro unleashed a massive healing wave on Kreo, repairing his calves almost completely - the wolves were certainly stunned. Pelan launched a Fireboly at one of the Wolves, barely singing its nose, but Keats Temple mocked the Wolf... viciously... a trend that would continue throughout their trek - the wolf was nearly flattened by the weight and harshness of Keats words, realizing an unpleasant truth about itself that it was a wolf, and would never be anything more than a wolf... the wolf-depression was real. History is frequently lost in a haze, especially when the historian was smoking silly-plant and not taking notes, but the end of that encounter was the death of the wolves. The party continued on their way, climbing a fallen tree and discovering a pit trap in front of a bench in an abandoned home. On the bench itself, there was an inscription in both dwarven and elven celebrating the friendship between Daf of clan Shieldstone and Telkeri of Moonglamaer. The Moonglammaer were a prominent wood elf clan , the other name isunknown. The party came to the final portion of their trek prior to taking the Dryad's oak, and the Sprites home, back from what the Sprites described as several Spiders and an Ettercap. At first, the party was distracted by a stampede of Boars, but upon noticing that their were needles sticking out of their rumps, they quickly discovered the ruse for what it was, a distraction for the blights to get into position. Phred caused a blade to erupt in green flame as he cut clean through one of the blights, and nearly burnt the other to the ground, Keats insulted one of the blights so thoroughly that it nearly withered away. Basil, Pelan, and Spectro massacred the others. Of note however, was the beating that Keats took at the hands of the blight she had insulted, knocking her unconscious from a tree branch falling helplessly to the ground. Pelan snapped into action bringing her back to consciousness and ending the threat to her life. The party took a short rest (See rules for short rest re: healing and spells), and anxiously waits for the proper time to burst onto the scene and end the threat to their newly acquired Sprite friends. To help the party, they provided them all with a dose of sleeping poison, as they are confident that this party is able to use it best. ______*_________________________________*______________________________*__________________________*_______________ SESSION 2: Chapter 3: Kaltensendra's Saviors During the party's short rest, the Sprites grew anxious and sought out additional help. They quickly found Fabby Nodgrobble, Lorellan Sylvanes, and Dorian Brightwood - the Sprites immediately took to Lorellan as a familiar elf. The party barged into the grove to see 3 elf warriors encased in webbing and dangling from a tree crying for help. The party also observed Kaltensendra stuck to a rock in a precarious position, with the shadowy form of spider clearly preventing her rescue. Despite being out matched both in sheer numbers as well as strength, the party boldly forewent attempting to free the elven warriors who might be able to assist. Immediately, Lorellon Sylvanes knew that the Ettercap had him in its sights. This made sense to Lorellon as he was the only elf in the group, and the Ettercap was attacking elves. Spectro acted swiftly, attempting to strike one of the three smaller spiders next to the Ettercap with a Sacred Flame - shockingly, the eight-legged foe side stepped its way out of harm. The Ettercap quickly shot a web onto Lorellon, restraining him where he stood. Lorellon simply laughed at the moronic Ettercap, for Lorellon does not need to swing a weapon to kill his foes. Almost as if to prove his point, Lorellon began whispering in the direction of the Ettercap's spiders, as one of them immediately fell asleep... a slumber that was to be rudely awakened by Basil Readhardt's sword after the other threats had been dispatched. As the spiders, the one who had miraculously dodged Spectro's god sent flame and the one who could not be bothered to fall asleep by Lorellon, rushed towards Spectro and Basil Readhardt respectively and immediately connected with staggering blows, dropping them almost immediately - what fortuitous aim these animals seemed to have. The party shuddered with fear, aware that if things continued this way, they could not last long against this onslaught. Oddly the shadowy form of the spider had no interest in joining the fight. The party rightly sighed a collectively in relief. Keats Temple, the catty and malicious bard, hurled hurtful words at the Ettercap. After considering Keats' words however, the Ettercap reaffirmed his self worth and shrugged Keats' words off harmlessly. Dorian Brightwood, feeling nearly hopeless in the face of these overwhelming odds noticed the vial of poison the Sprites had given to Basil peaking out of his pack. Dorian sprung into action, deftly grabbing the poison from the downed Basil Readhardt's pack and applying it to an arrow as he ran away in one fluid motion - he took aim at the Ettercap from afar and let his arrow fly. While the arrow flew through the Ettercap's shoulder, it appeared to shrug off the poison itself; this Ettercap knew its worth AND seemed to be in excellent health. The party desperately attempted to bring Basil and Spectro back to the world of the fighting, despite their numerous grievous wounds and poison - ultimately Basil recovered enough to provide assistance to the team, while Spectro was all but eviscerated; lying bloodied, broken, and most importantly dead... all seemed lost for Spectro and his newly acquired friends. With a sudden surge of intellect, of sorts, Keats Temple rushed to the tree, passing the shadowy form by Kaltensendra and defly navigating her way past the sticky webs. Keats received a mighty blow from the shadow for her efforts. As the hand's corporeal form whisked through Keats' body, she felt as if her strength had been drained - she was tired, alone, and afraid. Not so afraid that she could not hurl yet another insult at the Ettercap. This insult was for more vicious than the first, and cut to the Ettercap's core - everything it thought was true and important about itself now seemed so very hollow and meaningless. At this time, Fabby Nodgrobble was restrained from webbing shot from the large spider in the tree. Fabby laughed initially however, his pike was 10 feet long, and a spider was 10 feet away from him; what the heck did he need to move for anyways he chuckled. Out lashed Fabby's pike severing the spider's body from its limbs and ending what was surely a prolific life as far as spider lives go. After freeing himself, Fabby rushed to the two remaining elves who were trapped to free them; thank goodness for that, the party realized. The first elf who was rescued was the leader of the group, a skilled warrior named Folree Thunderblossom. Folree immediately rushed towards the shadowy spider form and lunged at it with both hands on his spear. The glade seemed to pause for a minute as he connected with the form... it could be hurt! Folree and the adventurers all understood that the shadowy form SHOULD have been hurt more by the attack, but sighed slightly relieved that at least it could be hurt. As Folree occupied the Shadow's attention, Lorellon and Dorian attempted to pepper the shadowy form with arrows and flame... each hit confirming that the shadow could be destroyed, but also confirming an uneasy feeling that this shadow would not be so easy to kill. Ultimately, it was Folree Thunderblossom he dealt the killing blow to the shadow, leaving only a Giant Spider to fight off the onslaught of anger... anger that Spectro had been killed, anger from the Wood Elves that they had been captured and unable to defend Kaltensendra, anger that nearly everyone had felt the wrath of the Glade's invaders... it was a palpable anger. The elves and living party members descended on the poor spider and decimated it with blow after vicious blow. The Giant Spider did not die a good death. The wood elves, led by a warrior named Folree Thunderblossom, are grateful for the party’s aid and are willing to take word of Hillsfar change of heart back to their people in Semberholme. Myth Drannor, Old Elven Court and Tangled Trees are all in ruins and most elves of Cormanthyr are scattered, fled, or killed. Folree cannot say what his people will do, he will speak well of the party due to their selfless actions. Folree also shares that they tracked the spiders and they previously dwelt in an area of the Darkwood where a piece of Thultanthar (one of the Netherese Flying City's, this particular one belonged to the Shadow Enclave) came to rest. He cannot give them exact directions, but knows roughly where it is. It seems likely that whatever dark magic twisted the shadow spider, it lies there still When all was said and done, and Kaltensendra had been freed, she shook her head with sadness "such senseless violence and needless death" she whispered, her voice cracking as she fought back tears. She walked gracefully to Spectro's lifeless and battered body and breathed a green mist into his nostrils. Spectors eyes shot open and he began writihing in agony as he had returned to the land of living before the remainder of Kaltensendra's healing had made his body a suitable host for sentience. After a minute or two, the pain subsided and Spectro was back to his normal self. Kaltensendra also removed the poison from the party, which they had suffered at the hands of some eerily accurate spiders. Kaltensendra, not done with her kindness, undid the harm the Shadow had done to Keats as well as providing the party with a Dryad's Cloak (Cloak of Protection). The Sprites of Cormanthor also bestowed their favor on the party (See handouts for effects and information). ______*_________________________________*______________________________*__________________________*_______________ SESSION 3: Chapter 4: The Triumphant Return [The portion of the party that did not partake in SESSION 2 completed a long-rest, and trekked to Hillsfar. Kreo Eple is also stared at with a mix of pity, contempt, and disgust. The stragglers return to town shortly after the adventurers, and are directed to where they are staying] Battered and bruised, the Sprites and elves assisted the party back to the outskirts of Hillsfar territory. Entering the town, the party understood that this city had become fully self-sufficient - they did not have trading partners or allies anymore. Fabby Nodgrabble, Keats Temple, and Lorellon Sylvanes understood why the First Lord wanted the party to mend ties with their neighbors, but knew it would take a long time - as they entered this tiny town in a big town's clothing (it had walls and a castle and everything a sucessful town would have... except for trading partners and allies); like a small child wearing his larger brother's oversized hand-me-downs. Every set of eyes the party passed gazed on Keats, Fabby, and Lorellon with something different from curiosity... it was a mix of pity, contempt, and disgust. Hillsfar had a long ways to go if they hoped to convince their neighbors the the stench of the Great Law of Humanity was gone from their lives. ______*_________________________________*______________________________*__________________________*_______________ SESSION 4 CHAPTER 5: A Story of Terrible Rolls, and then Amazing Rolls After nearly a week of hard-won rest, the party of odd adventurers had accomplished the following: The party’s resident smart-ass wizard, Lorellon had engaged in a week of debauchery. He quickly grew on the locals, and they cast their disdain for elves, as he blew their minds with minor tricks. It did not hurt Lorellon’s cause that they were all it a persistent state of inebriation. Lorellon made a few honest-to-god friends as well, going so far as to buy a local guard a few rounds as he complained about his awful luck. It turned out that Raikon Labello was a good friend to have. They engaged in drunken conversation, the best kind, about all manners of things, and Lorellon came out of his alcohol-induced haze with a signicantly better understanding of Hillsfar’s woes. Basil, the kind-hearted (though seriously grizzled) warrior, but himself doing the only thing he truly knew – kick ass and taking names, then kicking someone else’s ass and replacing their name with the name belonging to the first ass he kicked; he was very good at his job. What made this particular gig all the sweeter was that he was working for a local duke, the third cousin of the First Lord in fact! There was one situation of note involving a local farmer who demanded the Duke do something about the farmer’s inability to obtain new, functional, equipment; but Basil dazzled everyone present with deft maneuvers and a few well-placed blows to incapacitate the gentleman without lasting damage – he was a professional after all. Spectro, ever the mystery, did something mysterious; all the party knew for sure is that he didn’t die this time… as he seemed prone to do. Indeed, the party heaved a sigh of relief as their cleric friend returned in one piece. Granted, there were a few curious bumps and bruises, but the party chalked that up to Spectro doing what Spectro does… and when Spectro does, he invariably gets hurt. Fabby, the miniature tough guy, was off doing god knows what. The party had learned awhile ago, and this knowledge was subsequently reinforced, they should not inquire into what he does when they’re not looking; after all, knowing what he thinks when they are looking is unsettling enough. As the party reconvened for breakfast in the local tavern, they were informed of the latest goblin attack on a Hillsfar Farmstead; something that had been occurring with increasing frequency. Indeed, the group had heard a few farmers grousing about the recent uptick in goblin raids on the outskirts of Hillsfar. Ever the gracious guests, they rushed off to Harl’s farmstead. As they hurried down the road, they noticed four black dots bobbing in the amber waves of grain. The bobbing black dots quickly emerged from the four foot tall wheat and exposed themselves as halflings. Believing these adventurers to be there to assist them after the recent raid, each halfling spoke louder, and faster, than the other… that is until Lorellon calmed them down and obtained information about the raid itself. The information was unsettling to Basil and Fabby, who had dealt with their fair share of goblins in the past. While it was very common for goblins to raid farmsteads for food, it was far less common for them to conduct those raids in pairs and in the middle of the day no less! Perhaps the most upsetting piece of information they gleaned was that one of the goblins had been felled by the farm’s local touch guy…. However it exploded in black mist when it died, killing aforementioned tough guy. Basil and Fabby exchanged concerned looks behind everyone’s backs as if to reconfirm that goblins did not generally explode into black smoke when they were killed. Lorellon investigated the dead body of the felled goblin and discerned that there was indeed something very strange about this goblin. While it wasn’t magical, it was clear that some type of alchemical agent has caused significant changed in this goblin. It’s body was covered in mottled green skin, and it was slightly larger than the average goblin. The party determined that the wisest course of action would be to investigate where these strange goblins came from. After calming the halflings down enough to discern just where these goblins came from, the party headed south to the forest. Even as they entered into the forest 1,000s of feet away, they could still hear those halflings chittering undecipherable nonsense amongst each other; no wonder Hillsfar didn’t like halflings – they were an obnoxious bunch. As the group approached a stone bridge spanning a relatively slender, and relatively low, river, Lorellon observed three goblins lying in wait. Oddly, these would-be-ambushers were not paying attention, and the group got the jump on them. Fabby, his tiny legs blurring, dashed headlong across the shallow water, eager to allow “Ol’ Pikey” to get his first taste of blood in a full 5 days. Not to be out-done by a tiny gnome, Basil dashed across the top of the bridge (his legs were visible as they moved). Spectro, in classic Spectro style, rushed in right behind Basil – it was as though he forgot that just five days ago he was dead on the forest floor. Lorellon, ever the pragmatist, casually hung in the back. “Ol’ Pikey’” got its wish, drawing first blood from the startled goblin; it’s not every day you see a 4-foot-nothing-gnome wielding a pike charging at you. Sometimes it’s not first blood that counts most however, as the luckier goblin thug rushed next to the exposed Spectro and unleashed his fury on Spectro… “WHACK!” the mace connected soundly on Spectro’s skull, lighting his world up like the 4th of July. The mace swung around a second time… “WHACK!” it crashed into his ribs, stealing Spectro’s last breath as he fell down… down… down… to the sweet, and oddly familiar, embrace of a near death experience. He questioned the wisdom of coming on this venture, he was just a cleric after all. Lorellon, unconcerned with trivial matters such as people dying, dazzled everyone present as he hurled a fireball of golden lines into the first goblin, the goblin with a recent pike wound. The bolt smashed into the already-ugly goblins face; temporarily improving his visage (everyone loves a guy with scars). At last, it was his turn to make the nasty gnome feel his pain! The goblin swung his mace with all his might. Just as he shifted his weight forward to apply maximum force to his swing, the goblin’s back foot slipped in the mud on the bank, and the goblin immediately tasted a mix of his own blood, mud, and a little water – he was face down. The beserker rushed into the fray, enraged and titillated by the sight of blood, and unleased a massive blow to Basil, he stood protecting his fallen cleric; Basil stood stunned at the sheer force of the blow, amazed he was still standing. Basil, not one to shy away from a good fight, and certainly not one to allow a good blow to go unanswered, unleashed a savage blow of his own on the poor berserker. Fabby, seeing that his target was down yelled for Lorellon to “handle the poor bastard with mud in his mouth” and deftly hopped over the lip of the bridge, building momentum as he rushed towards the unsuspecting berserker. Fabby slammed into the berserker, with the intention of knocking him off the bridge, only to bounce off his massive frame. The goblin who demolished Spectro was finally killed, falling off the bridge into the water below and spewing noxious black mist as he died. It took everything the party had to drop their first foe, and things did not look good for the party. Basil was barely conscious, Spectro was barely clinging to life, Fabby was about to be overtaken by the remaining beasts, and Lorellon could not truly be bothered to get to involved – everyone knew he would leave if he had to. Luckily, Lorellon’s friend Raikno Labello thought it wise to trail the party and immediately erupted into action on behalf of his newfound friend. After all, a debt owed is a debt paid. As each goblin fell, they exploded into a mist of necrotic pain; Raikon and Fabby received this misty pain directly to their lungs. The party returned to town to lick their wounds and set out once they had been patched up. Unfortunately, this delay cost the nearby forest town dearly – when the party arrived, the town was in flames, and the bodies of at least a dozen elves lay scattered across the ground. To make matters worse, the party heard the infant screams of an elven child in one of the burning buildings. Fabby and Spectro crept to the side of the building and peered into the window to discover a Leucrotta making the noises. Lorellon and Basil walked to the front door to investigate the noise, unaware of the true threat inside. As the Leucrotta stepped out from inside the structure, the parties’ error became apparent. A gnoll Hunter slipped unnoticed from a nearby structure and loosed two arrows at an unaware Lorellon, missing terribly. In response, Lorellon dropped slippery grease at his feet. Somehow, the Gnoll Hunter did not fall. Fabby, seeing an opportunity present itself while the Leucrotta’s stinky starfish was exposed, lunged in, plunging Ol’ Pikey into an Ol’ nasty spot – scoring a grievous wound on the Leucrotta. Not to be outdone by a gnome, Spectro fired a guiding bolt right where Ol’ Pikey had made it’s mark – causing the Leucrotta to roar in agony. Attempting to wow the party once again, Lorellon fired magic missiles at the gnoll hunter, one powered by force, and 2 bolts of flaming danger – you see…. Grease is flammable. Unfortunately, he was unable to force the Gnoll Hunter back to face immolation-by-genius. Basil had been rendered unconscious by the vicious blows the Leucrotta, but managed to regain consciousness just in time to strike several devastating blows against the Leucrotta. Ultimately, the party managed to destroy the foul vermin. Lorellon, in a state of despair, gave the dead elves a proper cremation along with the appropriate elven spells to usher them peacefully into the afterlife. The party collapsed in exhaustion, today was going to be a very long day. They were wrong. The party entered what appeared to be the source of the changes in the local wildlife and goblins. The Weirding Vats, a subsection of one of the floating cities of Netheril, which came crashing down near Myth Drannor after a series of unfortunate events, was leaking it’s toxic sludge everywhere. The party entered the Weirding Vats and engaged in harrowing fight against its resident wizard, Gorig, and a single thug. What a gift the gods must have given us, the entire party thought, for they were sure a place like this was probably supposed to have 4 of those terrifying goblin thugs from the bridge instead of one (their god was a merciful one). After a comical fight that primarily consisted Gorig slipping on grease and falling on his face, while getting poked relentlessly, the party emerged victorious. They had the distinct impression that someone was surprised it was so easy for them…. After all, they had been performing awful up until this point, but the Gods seemed to have their backs in this particular encounter… an encounter which ought to have been far more difficult than the others they had experienced that day. Lorellon obtained Gorig’s 26-foot-long body wrap, which doubled as his spell book – a massive gain. Spectro received Gorigs necklace of good luck, something he was in desperate need of given his proclivity for nearly dying. The party stroked out at that point, staring blankly for a full week until they snapped out of it and carried on with their epic adventure."
