Worldwide D&D Game Day - March 21

UPDATE: Looks like there will be enough DMs to keep tables running throughout the day. The store is open 11 – 8, and I expect I’ll be there from about noon – 6. Stop in and have a play!

Quick announcement, I’ll be helping out over at the Worldwide D&D Game Day later this month. Bell Book & Comic in Oakwood will be hosting. I’ll post more details soon, but I’m expecting two or three tables to be running throughout most of the day.

I’m pretty excited. I’ve played for years, but this is the first time I’ll be gaming outside my regular weekly group. I have roped a couple of those guys into running a table to two, but I’m excited to play with new folks who bring a different perspective and approach. I did a few Games Workshop events in Baltimore back in college, but this isn’t even close to the same thing. Those events were more like GenCon I suspect. (Still haven’t made it there, despite it only being two hours away.) This should be cool.

I’ll update the post when I’ve had a change to confirm the details with the folks at BB&C. There no pre-registration necessary, but if you think you’ll swing by, leave a comment. (My biggest fear is that no one will show up.)

The Core Mechanic is also hosting a blog round-up of sorts for the event.

For you min-max’ers out there, this may be of interest.

Race/Class Synergy in 4e

I might take the time to expand this in the near future to cover the Martial Powers builds and what is known of PH2. In the mean time I have one comment: Intuitively, I bet the Half-Elf’s lack of stat synergy is made up by the race’s versatility.

via: The Art of the Near TKP

The Final Battle From 4′ Off the Ground

Battered and bruised, and with barely an ounce of energy left, Tallow lifts himself up (its easier for a Halfing) for what he thinks could be the last time, resolute to send this evil back to the hole its trying to come from.  “Let’s go…” Tallow says, as he stealthily re-rolls Korbein’s bedroll with a flick of his foot.  “There will be no place to rest for us tomorrow if we sleep now”.

Tallow slowly makes his way over to the descent, both dread and excitement pulsing through his veins.  Ankle-deep in blood, a dark feeling permeates the entire place.  If not for the inspiring dedication of Ganak, and the exuberant devotion of Cirlandir, this feeling may overcome Tallows heart.  But with a mighty Maul in front of him, and a fireball behind, Tallow feels confident, or at least hopeful that victory is possible.  One last time, Tallow whispers to himself, “we’re gonna make it”, reminding himself of the consequences if the heroes do not.  With a quick warning that the chain will be slick from the blood, Tallow slides down, friends on both sides of him.  He barely grips the chain, allowing himself to slide down easily, the chain covered with the blood of the innocent.  Tallow lands deftly on his feet, immediately scanning the room to assess the battlefield.  A hideous undead creature to the right, and what is obviously the villain of this story to the left, protected by his two undead soldiers.  And then Tallow looks straight ahead, a deep pit immediately developing in his stomach.  The most evil, dark creature Tallow has ever seen or imagined lies straight through this “portal”… this “window” into hell.  The creature reaches across, his hand the size of Tallow’s body, being held back by the thinnest film.  Surely a minute longer and this creature would be free… free to destroy all Tallow has ever held dear in this world.  Before the undead soldiers can react, Tallow quickly loads and fires his trusty crossbow, plunging a bolt straight into the creatures chest… leaving the creature reeling in pain.   The battle has begun.  “Thank goodness for friends”, Tallow thinks, being surrounded by them on all sides.  If not for them, surely these beasts would run down the one responsible for that crossbow bolt.  Instead, as so often is the case, Tallow’s much larger friends suffer for the pain he’s inflicted.

Everything suddenly starts moving much faster for Tallow now, as if up until now everything was in slow motion.  The undead soldiers approach ignoring Tallow, and a dark bolt of energy shoots from the undead beast to the right… Tallow ducks just in time as the same type bolt hits the wizard next to Tallow, causing him to immediately go pale, sapped of much strength.  Tallow slides to the left, deciding to focus on the undead soldiers.  He watches his friends strike at them, and then peppers the same one as before with another crossbow.  “That ones looking bad!  Finish him!”, Tallow shouts.  Not three seconds later, the soldier lies dead, again, at the hands of our own soldiers.  Tallow quickly wheels around, trying not to lose sight of the horrow shooting bolts at him, but this time cannot avoid it.  He feels the pain the wizard had felt, this dark force weakening every fiber of his being.  Before Tallow can act, Cirlandir, seeing his anguish, calls upon Bahamut for assistance.  Tallow tries to resist the weakness, and it leaves Tallow bruised but not crushed.  Tallow’s friends strike at the wicked priest and his remaining soldier… the battle cries of his friends lifting his spirits.  He sees Korbein’s maul lift and come down hard on the enemy.  A second later a ball of fire appears next to the priest… singing his robes… and his skin.  “I’m glad Lorik is on our side”, Tallow thinks.  Tallow fires his crossbow again and hits the priest with a bolt.  This is one tough priest Tallow thinks, as the priest laughs and pulls the bolt out from his arm, barely affected at all.  Pressing their attack, the heroes destroy the second soldier, ignoring the horror behind us for now.  Tallow runs up to join in the hand-to-hand fight against the priest, when, suddenly the priest disappears. Tallow looks right… then looks left, then turns around.  “There he is!”, Tallow shouts, seeing that the priest has somehow teleported to the other side of the room, standing inside a blue circle which eminates an eery blue light.  He stands only 15 feet from the gate to hell with the monstrous horror barely being held behind.  Tallow’s brave friends charge up to the powerful priest, continuing their assault, but just as they do, Tallow sees the giant hand reach through the gate, and grab Ganak pulling him back towards the gate.  “Death is one thing, but being dragged into hell is another”, Tallow thinks, resolute to avoid Ganak’s fate.  Fortunately, Ganak is able to wrestle himself away, and with a look of horror, moves away from the gate expeditiously as the rest of the party moves up to attack the priest.  The priest seems stronger somehow… Tallow swings his dagger with all his force, his attack glancing off the priest when he was certain it would have hit him just a moment ago.  “Damn!” says Tallow, I needed that one, realizing the priest was unaware of him for a moment.  Tallow tumbles around the priest, plunging his dagger into the priest, but wait… his dagger again glances off.  The priest wheels around, annoyed at Tallow’s sinister attempts, and connects Tallow with a horrible blow.  Tallow, groggy from the blow, retreats back to the wall, barely remembering to avoid the grasp of the beast, quickly pulling out his crossbow again and deciding firing bolts would be a better path until he gets his senses back.  His friends continue their assault despite their own wounds, one of them finally finishing the undead that had earlier weakened Tallow.  He stumbles back to regroup with his friends, finally regaining his momentum.  The priest looks bad, quite bad, which makes Tallow feel quite good.  Ganak walks up and touches Tallow’s shoulder, inspiring him and making the burden of his wounds feel light.  Encouraged by this, Tallow charges in, determined to deal this preist his final blow.   Tallow plunges the dagger into the priest’s back, and pulls down with all his strength… opening up a gaping hole in his back.  The priest falls flat, and gives up his last breath.  For just a moment Tallow relaxes… the battle is won!  A huge hand reaches out further than it has before.  Tallow knows he’s about to be taken on a ride he doesn’t want to go on, but the hand instead grabs the priest, and pulls him into the abyss.  It seems the punishment for his failure will be quite severe.

Chamber of Statues

As the hobgoblin warcaster drowns in his own blood, the Heroes of Winterhaven clean their blades and steel their nerves for the fight ahead. The corridor ahead of them opens into a large empty room. Double doors lead off to the west and the south. “OK, elf,” growls Korbein. “Which way to the evil?”

The concensus is southward, and so our party proceeds. Beyond the doors is a broad, open chamber that appears to be some sort of memorial to a long forgotten battle. A titanic statue dominates the center of the room, depicting an armor-clad warrior. It faces off against two draconian statues crouching in the eastern corners. Opposite our heroes in the exit, doubledoors set into an antechamber and guarded by four cherubim bearing vases on their marble heads.

Cirlandir heads toward the nearest dragon, but his approach is rebuffed as a blast of energy forces him back. Tallow, meanwhile, strides forward to inspect the statue. A faintly audible click sounds from beneath it, and the halfling manages to duck beheath the arc of the titan’s sword as it swoops overhead. Korbein,  pulls his dimunitive comrade to safety, and recommends they proceed along the western wall.

Ganak and Tallow lead the way toward the cherubim. Peering into the empty urns, our heroes proceed toward the exit. As they pass between the first two statues, a glimmer of arcane power flickers behind them. Trapped! Moreover the cherubim have each tipped their urns, and water has begun to fill the antechamber. This is bad news indeed for our diminutive rogue.

Tightning his grip on his warhammer, Korbein takes his usual, direct approach to problem solving and smashes the nearest statue. Bits of stone fly through the air. The dwarf is nearly sent flying, too, as a blast of energy crashes into his back from the nearest dragon statue. Tallow searches for an access panel to try and disable the pump mechanism, working feverishly as though his life depended upon it. He finds success at one statues, and wades to the next.

As the water rises above the halflings ears, things slook dire indeed. Suddenly, the flow of water ceases, and a series of large fan begun to churn the water, turning the antechamber into a giant whirlpool. Ganak, who had been trying to open the southern door, is caught off gaurd and thrown from one statue to the next. Tallow, reacts more quickly, grabbing onto a cherub as the half-drowned dragonborn floats past.

Lorik redoubles his efforts to unwork the magic trapping his allies. With a flicker and a crackle the arcane barrier breaks apart, and water rushes into the room, sweeping our heroes from their feet and into the titan’s path. In the briefest moment of silence, Cirlandir hears the faint grind of a subterranean spring coiling. “Run!” he shouts, and everyone scrambles to their feet and dives toward the wall. Lorik, unfortunately, reacts a moment too slowly, and is caught by the end of the giant’s blade.

Soggy, but undaunted, our heroes press on.

The Stench of Flesh

Opening the now unlocked door, our adventurer’s are nearly overwhelmed by the stench of rotting flesh. Stepping through the portal, the source is quickly discovered, as a dozen zombies shamble forward, gobbets dangling from their chins in homage to their ghoulish mentor.

Quickly our heroes press forward, determined not to be trapped in a corner. Korbein and Lorik hold the flank, while Cirlandir, Ganak and Tallow press into the room. A cloud of lightning issues forth from the dragonborn’s mouth sending several of the creatures back to their uneasy rest, but still they press forward. Nearly surrounded, Cirlandir calls upon the Platinum Dragon. With a brilliant light the elf’s patron fells the remaining zombies.

Taking stock of the now transformed situation, the cleric and paladin turn around in time to see an animated clay statue run past them toward the exit. Not ready to let additional denizens know of their presence, Cirlandir and Ganak cut off his exit, allowing Tallow to circle behind and slay the construct. The ghoul, now alone and outnumbered hisses in defiance before falling beneath our heroes’ assault.

Sacrifice in the Cathedral of Shadow

The ghoul’s curse fades to silence just as another sound creeps in from the next chamber, a low rhythmic chant pierced by the screams of a woman. “To arms!” cries Cirlandir. “To arms!” Charging through the door, our heroes arrive in time to see a priest’s wicked blade plunge downward and silence the scream. From the altar two rivers of blood flow outward, trailing across the floor and terminating at a grate surrounding a hole in the middle of the room.

The priest looks up, his face overlain with a tattoo or a ram. “Kill them,” he orders, and two men stride forward to meet our adventurers in battle. The berserkers, frothing with prayer’s of devotion to Orcus, unleash their mighty battle axes, hacking to and fro. Ganak and Korbein once again form the frontline and bear the brunt of their furious attacks.

Suddenly a number of vampire spawn aided by a dark creeper burst through a side door, flanking our heroes and dividing their line. Cirlandir, draws two of the undead close with a measured retreat, and then dashes around around them to reform the rearguard with Lorik and Tallow. Back to back our heroes fight, slowly and inexorably laying their foes to rest.

Our exhausted heroes turn their eyes upon the altar and the body of the women they were too late to save. Rising up from the hole, riding on waves of evil, comes yet more chanting. “The ritual is nearly complete,” says Cirlandir. “Come, my friends. We must steel our nerves one more time before we rest.”

Post-Session

XP: 531/PC

Treasure: 176 gp; bag of holding

To the Lower Level

Having survived the kruthik menace and realized this was a bit of a red herring, our brave heroes return to the crypt chamber and the mysterious runes. After successfully navigating them, they are surprised to find Little John waiting at the top of the staircase for them. “Shall we press on, lads?” asks the plucky ranger. Our scarred and bleeding adventurers respond with nary a grunt.

Cautiously the party moves further beneath Shadowfell Keep. Stepping into a lit chamber, a pair of hobgoblin guards face them. Laying his hand on his weapon one calls out, “Shadow seeks shadow!”

“Uhh…” stammers Cirlandir. Quickly Lorik recalls the message found in the graveyard the previous day. “In the ground some magic was found,” he responds.

The guards look at one another with wide eyes. “Ninaran’s been slain! Sound the alarm!” Quickly the two hobgoblins form up and trap our heroes in the stairwell, while reinforcements pour in from adjoining rooms.

The warriors prove hard to hit. “Little John, loose your bow and push them back!” cries Tallow, looking behind him to the rear guard. “Little John? Little John! Oh, where the hell have you run off to now!”

“Nevermind him,” answers Ganak. “We’ll do this the old fashioned way, with steel and blood!” Slowly, he and the dwarf make space for the party to move, whitling down the hobgoblin numbers. Suddenly, Cirlandir spies activity in the next room, when two grunts have opened a cage and freed and horse-sized spider that quickly gallops into the frey. By the timethe arachnid arrives, however, the tide has turned, and a few well placed blows quickly dispatch the beast.

The Warchief and the Warcaster

After checking the remaining barracks, our heroes proceed east and then turn south. Just a few paces down the hall, Tallow steps on a loose stone and an iron portcullis crashes down in front of them. Figuring their progress would only have been halted if they were on the right track, Korbein steps up to raise the portcullis… with a little help from his friends.

The room beyond is dominated by a large oaken table, scarred with burns and dagger cuts. Several mugs and crumbled parchments lie scattered across the table’s surface. Lorik and Korbein inspect the documents, which appear to be plans for an undead assault on Winterhaven!

Suddenly, the two doors in the room burst open, and more hobgoblins pour out. “Take them alive; we’ll sell them to the Bloodreavers!” cries their warchief, as they soldiers and grunts form their line of assault. Korbein bears the brunt of the assault, but Ganak and Lorik are able to make ground on the other flank. Once that happens, the soldiers and warchief are soon overwhelmed. Despite Tallow and Korbein looking a bit ragged, our heroes press on in their quest to re-seal the rift, though a tactical change is certainly called for.

The warchief’s room leads no further, so our adventurers head north through a doorway. Their approach is met by a surprised hobgoblin peering arround the corner. “We’re under attack!” cries the soldier, who turns and runs through another door, slamming it behind him. Our heroes ready for an assault, this time keeping our sly halfing in the rear to begin.

Ganak throws open the door, and is pierced with a black-fletched arrow. Lorik steps forward to send arcane fury toward the green-skinned creatures, but his assault is met and overpowered by the hobgoblin’s own warcaster. Lorik wisely retreats leaving the paladin to square off against the onrushing soldiers.

Meanwhile, yet more hobgoblins throw open the other door. Here Lorik’s magic is more effective, as the lot are felled with a single firey blast. One flank cleared, Korbein circles around to close the noose on the warcaster and his guard.

“We are close to our objective now, my friends,” says Cirlandir as we binds wounds. “But so, too, is our enemy. We must press on.”

Post-Session

XP: 511/PC

Treasure: 410 gp; 61 sp; +1 vicious short sword

Open the Gates!

It seems Winterhaven’s Heroes are in need of fresh supplies and a bit of rest before they venture into the graveyard. Sight of their weary arms and the setting sun persuades Lord Padraig to open the gates and let our heroes in. Once inside, our heroes find Winterhaven of two minds: full of people, yet queerly silent. As many as can have moved within the walls from the surrounding countryside, but the spectre of death reversed has silenced every tongue. Even old Eilian seems to be at a loss for words.

Wrafton’s is stuffed to the gills. and our adventurers find themselves relocated to a single room. Even the pub has been repurposed, with the tables and chairs pushed to one side and a make-shift barracks set up on the other. Fear over rules the curiosity, and our party consumes it’s meal in silence before retiring for some much needed sleep.

To the Graveyard

As first light peeks over the walls of Winterhaven, our heroes set out through the gates for the town’s cemetery. A dirt path leads through a grove to a slight clearing. A fence of wrought iron bars encloses the cemetery, though the the gate swings freely on its hinges. Within the graveyard, some of the soil around the densely packed tombstones seems disturbed. Three mausoleums sit amid the markers, and a sickly glow pulses from somewhere near the largest crypt.

Our heroes fan out. Ganak and Korbein approach the southern mausoleum; Lorik and Tallow move around the northern side of the cemetery toward the eerie light; and Cirlandir keeps a watchful post near the gate. Rounding the corner of the northern mausoleum, Lorik spies a stone circle marked out on the ground, and within the circle, an intricate pattern of runes glows with arcane power. As Lorik prepares to examine the circle more closely, the ground trembles and the dead burft from their graves!

A number of skeletons emerge from the ground, closing quickly on Ganak and Korbein, while others draw bows and take aim at Cirlandir. Two gravehounds emerge from the largest tomb, and charge. One pounces on Ganak, knocking him to the ground, and the other forces Lorik back. A finely crafted hunting arrow whizzes past the wizard’s ear, narrowly missing its mark. A curse flies from the lips of an elf, who might look more familiar if only she were better illuminated.

Korbein, makes quick work of the undead around him, and he steps forward allowing Ganak to scramble to his feet. Lorik summons a ball of fire to cover his retreat, slowing the gravehounds pursuit. Surrounded by blades and hammers, flame and sheild, the dead are inexorably returned to their grave. The elven hunter attempts to sneak between the party, but she mis-steps and finds herself quickly surrounded. Drawing her blade she attempts to fight her way free, but the weight of superior numbers quickly overwhelm her.

While Lorik undoes the dark magic, the elf’s lifeless body is searched. Within her purse, she carries a few gold coins and a letter:

I received your report on the adventurers. Next time you see them, put an end to their meddling. Mix the blood of ten people with the elixir my messenger brings. Then trace the following pattern on the ground of a graveyard and pour the liquid into the lines. That should supply you with a force to thwart them. I’m very close to completion; see that I’m not interrupted. As you already know, if you do come to the second level of the keep, the pass phrase is “From the ground, some magic was found.”

Returning to town, the tension is palpable. Everyone is keen to hear of our heroes success. A cheer goes up as our adventurers tell their tale. Winterhaven is safe for the moment, but our heroes must rest up again and prepare for a final assault on the Keep.

Back to the Keep

Returning to Shadowfell Keep the next morning, our party is of two minds, unsure which way to go. Eventually, ther return to the caves into which Fat Balgron disappeared. The cavern is quiet; it seems the vermin haven’t yet had time to repopulate. Moving around one corner, Cirlandir spies a fissure in a wall that it too uniform to have occured naturally. “Quiet,” he urges, pointing to the crack. Heavy breathing can be heard on the other side of the wall. Quickly our party lays a trap. At the signal, Korbein throws open the door. Within the small storeroom is none other than Fat Balgron. Cornered and unable to flee for a third time, the goblin is felled almost before he can react. With an air of satisfaction, Korbein takes his trophy and leaves him to rot along with his stores.

Our heroes continue into the cavern down a long corridor. A few dozen feet in, they spy the end of a rope, and following it they find the other end tied around the half-eaten corpse of a small goblin who lies broken at the bottom of a pit. Next to the greenskin lies the unmoving form of a broken, six-limbed reptile. “Kruthiks,” declares Cirlandir. “And a young one. There will be more. Best to leave them be.” But there was the smell of treasure in the air, his comrades could not be persuaded otherwise.

Continuing around the corner, on the lookout for additional pitfalls, our party stumbles upon the den where three adolescents and their mother guard a nest of shiny baubles. “Bah! It’s just a couple lizards,” declares Korbein as he and Tallow stride forward. Suddenly toxic spikes dart from the adult piercing our heroes and sending venom through their veins. Meanwhile a number of hatchlings emerge behind the party from small tunnels.

“I told you!” cries Cirlandir, as he fends off two of the reptiles. Korbein and Tallow make a hasty retreat only for Tallow to stumble into a previously undetected pit. The fall was a bit fortuitous, for the kruthiks attentions went elsewhere for a time. Eventually the hatchlings were dispatched, and the party could bring numbers to bear on the adolescents and their mother. As reward for their trouble they collected a pile of coin, three amethysts, and a couple potions.

Their curiosity sated, Winterhaven’s Heroes turn their attention to the lower level of the keep.

Treasure

XP: 300/PC (Level 3!)

Treasure: 59 gp; 216 sp; 5 amythyst gems (50gp value each); 2 healing potions

The Adventurer’s Vault is previewing out at WotC, and Alchemy is on tap for today. Something to bear in mind fourth level.

The crafting of magic items is an expensive endeavor. For those unwilling or unable to devote the resources to crafting magic items, alchemy provides a powerful alternative. A ranger might use alchemy to craft a poultice that aids an ally’s healing. A rogue can create an alchemical chalk to destroy a lock beyond the limits of his Thievery skill. A cleric can use alchemy to make his or her weapons more potent against insubstantial creatures.

Oi, Lorick! A few new rituals for you to consider. Be sure to stock up on components next time your in Winterhaven. Barwin’s Grande Shoppe can probably hook you up with nearly anything you are looking for, and there is an elf named Delphina Moongem whom around who can help you on the herbal front.

In Dungeons & Dragons, rituals provide some of the most flexible options for your heroes. They represent all the magic that isn’t designed for combat, from cleansing your clothes to moving an entire village hundreds of miles across the continent. Rituals cost nothing to learn (though they might be expensive to find), so a ritual caster should learn as many as possible. Acquire all the rituals you can and accrue an enormous body of mystic literature describing the many strange things you can accomplish through ritual.

You guys might be interested in the latest word from Wizards. John, you’ll have to let us know what the demos look like at GenCon.

Coinage

• 927 gp
• 685 sp

Jewels and Art

• necklace with an obsidian dragon pendent (on the bottom of the figurine is etched the outline of a skull with ram’s horns, a representation of Orcus, the demon lord of the undead)
• 5 amythysts (50gp value each)

Magic Items

• +2 magic dagger
• Aecris: +1 longsword (Daily; Free; Immediate Interrupt, when you reduce an undead enemy to 0 hit points; gain one healing surge)
• +1 amulet of health
• +1 bloodcut hide armor
• +1 dwarven chain mail
• shield of protection
• +1 symbol of battle (Bahamut)
• +1 magic wand
• Belt of Sacrifice
• 8 healing potions