Sunday, November 7, 2021

World of Prime: Campaign Journal #31

 The Heist: Part 1

The party considers their new mission with trepidation: steal a magic item without killing anyone. This is far outside their normal operating method. However, they are all ready for a respite from the chaos of the battlefield. Well, perhaps not all; the Barbarian asks if maybe they can just kill a little bit.

After considerable discussion, the party decides to disguise themselves as merchants. They spend 2,000 gp on silk (Eslyt arranges the purchase in her name and has the crates transported to their boat in the dark of night, to foil any Arkooian spies). The Druid recommends investing in a few other trinkets like a merchant’s scale and yardstick, and they all get enough training from a local merchant to be able to pass at least a cursory question or two. They spend another 2,000 gp on healing potions and spider climb potions, apparently expecting to drop down from the ceiling like a heist movie.

The voyage is calm and undisturbed (the GM didn’t want to roll for random encounters) and after a week they hail around the coast and land on Arkoommeamn soil. The Bard easily talks his way past the port authorities, presenting the party as simple merchants. The fact that they are heavily armed is not at all surprising, since the merchant trade is perilously close to adventuring.

After hiring a cart and loading up their crates of silk, they travel through a small county and into the capital. The city is well patrolled; the guards on the gatehouse in the stone wall look in their crates and hand them a small card with the local rules printed on it: no nudity, no pearls on commoners, and trial by combat is a legal right.  The town has wide roads, fit for horsemen, and a solid castle in the center. The party trundles right up to the drawbridge, past a troop of pikemen, and attempts to talk their way through the knights on gate duty.

“Do you have a trading license?” a knight asks.

The Bard notes that this is not on the rules card.

“It’s not a bloody law book, is it?” the knight answers. “Come back on market day and maybe you’ll have a better chance.”

After learning that market day is four days off, they search out accommodations and are quickly referred to the Golden Wing Inn. The inn specializes in a chicken dish that is drenched in saffron to give it a unique golden color. The effect on the flavor is not entirely felicitous but the dish remains a staple of local culture.

The proprietoress, Gizela, is also a bard of some skill. She takes an interest in her latest customers and their foreign accents. A brief bard-off ensues, where the Bard totally gets the better of the innkeeper, and the information only flows one way. The party sells their cover as merchants while discovering that the only person in the castle who would be interested in their silks is… the Countess Malgorzata.

Gizela goes so far as to suggest she will introduce them to the local merchant house where they can acquire a trading license. She buys them a round and the party relaxes a bit. Meanwhile she flirts with the Barbarian, and soon sends him up to his room to fetch a trophy from one of his many adventures. Upon entering he discovers a burglar rifling through their things.

“Excuse me,” he says, “but that’s mine.”

“Oh, sorry,” says the burglar. “Here you go,” and grabbing a random weapon out of the Barbarian’s sack, stabs him with it.

The weapon is +1 rapier. The Barbarian is sixth rank. The stab barely annoys him; he pummels the burglar into unconsciousness in a single round, then grabs his bag in one hand and the burglar in another, and drags the man down the stairs. By the time they reach the ground floor the burglar is a bad way; the Druid crouches at his side and begins to tend his wounds while Gizela apologizes profusely.

It is terribly embarrassing for an innkeeper to have her guests burgled. “I put out traps and everything,” she says, “but you know how it is.” In recompense she comps them their rooms and meals, and then asks… “So what are you going to do with him?”

“What do you normally do with burglars?” the Cleric asks.

“We stab them,” she answers. The Barbarian perks up at this and starts searching his bag for a knife. Meanwhile the Druid has restored the wounded man to consciousness and is helping him to the door. “Although usually, we stab them while they’re actually in the act, not five minutes later in a different room on a different floor,” Gizela continues, frowning at the Druid.

“Can I demand trial-by-combat?” the Barbarian asks.

“You could,” she replies, “although that seems a bit predictable.” Then she is hit with an idea. “How many times did you hit him?”

“Well, twice,” the Barbarian admits.

She runs a hand across his rippling muscles. “That means he must be ranked; no common man could stand a single blow from such an arm. So… you could duel him!” Gizela makes a compelling case, and soon the Barbarian has agreed to a duel under unusual terms: the Barbarian will be unarmed and unarmoured, while the burglar will have the purloined rapier. The duel will be fought the next night, on the inn stage, as an entertainment.

Gizela has her men throw the burglar into a room to heal up, and begins plying the Barbarian with alcohol and compliments. She keeps him up all night, and starts in again the very next morning, clearly intending to send the Barbarian into the ring exhausted and drunk. This is, after all, the only way to make the fight even remotely interesting.

The rest of the party shakes their head but decides to use the event as cover while they snoop around town. The Bard trawls through town looking for rumors and eventually discovers that the Countess Malgorzata will be traveling out of town just after market day, to visit her sister in another county. He also arranges for a trading license from House Staszewski, but rather than pay the 100 gp fee offers a bit of betting advice: the Barbarian, regardless of odds. The merchant brothers Fortunat and Eryk are men of swords and action themselves, so they agree to terms. They will attend the fight and bet on the Barbarian. If he wins, the party gets their trading license for free; if he loses, they will pay double.

That night a drunk and staggered Barbarian takes the stage with a healed and clearly hopped up on alchemy burglar. The rogue wins initiative, stabbing the Barbarian for what would be serious damage to an ordinary man but is barely a scratch for him. The Barbarian responds with a flurry of fists, but his impaired state means he misses half the time.

The next round the poison kicks in. The Barbarian for once fails to shrug it off and suffers the maximum penalty, losing 6 points of DEX. Another result like that will see him paralysed! He flies into a rage, knowing that in his weakened state he will simply collapse into unconsciousness when the rage ends. The fight lasts all of five rounds before the Barbarian beats down the rogue, taking only minimal damage as the rogue fails to land any critical hits or sneak attack damage.

At the conclusion of the fight, surrounded by a madly cheering crowd, drunk, exhausted, and poisoned, the Barbarian gives into his rage and beats the rogue to death before passing out.

While this violence disturbs the party, it wins Gizela’s approval. She takes the rest of the party aside and makes them an astounding offer: a huge bounty of gold for every witch they slay. The astounding part is that it is exactly the same offer the shadowy rogue Esyllt made them back in Flefliequelp.

The Druid had already been forced to sell a little tael for pocket money, and had discovered that tael also sold for more than normal here as well. This cannot be a coincidence. Something odd is going on throughout the entire domain.

Gizela’s motive is clear enough; she wants to weaken the local government so she can take its place. But who could want the helm neutralized through such violent means and with such a wealth to pay for it? The party can tell Gizela does not have the money just lying around, though she adamantly will not reveal where it might come from.

Somewhat disconcertingly, the allegedly Team Good party spends a considerable time considering the murder-for-hire proposition. But on market day they take their silk to the castle and are reminded of their real quest.

Their trading license gets them onto the castle grounds, and soon the Countess comes down to inspect their wares. She is accompanied by four knights, a baronet, and two lady’s maids. The cleric notices that one of the guards is carrying a finely made wooden box, but astonishingly fails to draw the obvious inference. Fortunately the bard picks up the thread; while haggling over the price of their silk he asks the lady if she might have other rare goods to trade instead of coin, a perfectly legitimate question coming from a merchant. She laughs and answers, “Well, yes, and also no,” with a glance towards the box. The rest of the party notices that said box is exactly large enough to hold a helmet.

In a fit of inspiration the bard trades their 2,000 gp of silk for 1,000 gp and an invitation to dinner at the court, allegedly in the hopes of making a good impression on the king for the sake of future business.

That night they return to the castle for a sumptuous meal. The King is friendly enough, asking them about their travels, and is taken by the Bard’s recounting of their adventures in the City of Tomorrow, though he clearly doesn’t believe it. Meanwhile the Ranger has been trying to get the guard holding the box drunk, the Druid is trying to talk finance with the Master of Coin, and the Barbarian has challenged the King to an arm-wrestling match (which, much to his surprise, the Barbarian loses).

The Bard takes this opportunity to fascinate the rest of the King’s retinue, Master Rafal, Countess Fabolia, and Malgorzata. Only the witch fails her save and sits enraptured with his music, but this is good enough: he works in a suggestion that she should show them the Helm, as he greatly desires to look on an object of such beauty and power.

The wizard Rafal perhaps notices this use of spell power, but as it is so mundane in its request he cannot be certain. Malgorzata smiles and casually reaches out to the guard standing behind her with the box; he tries to stop her but has the box in one hand and the Ranger’s mug of ale in the other. She opens the box and pulls out the Helm and places it on her head.

The entire room pauses in appreciation; the Helm is indeed beautiful, studded with diamonds and rubies and opals in a frame of red and yellow gold. But is the sheer staggering power it represents that takes the breath away.

The Cleric, who had been observing quietly in the background, makes a holy gesture in appreciation and smoothly works in a Detect Magic spell. He discovers the Helm indeed is magical, and also that the box all but screams “trapped!”

This is enough for the party; they have found what they came to find. They retire for the night and immediately begin making plans to carjack the Countess on the road. They watch her ride out with a troop of knights and know that they have six days to plan an ambush. The party follows her road until they find a spot far from any village or other habitation.

The Druid, upon discovering the sorry state of the local vegetation (the GM’s attempt to weaken the overpowering Entangle spell), spends his time casting Plant Growth until he has a battlefield full of weeds. He also turns the hard packed dirt road into a soggy mud pit. The Barbarian kicks a wheel off their cart and the Bard makes camp a short distance away. Then they wait.

The column of horses eventually returns, but stops a distance off. Three men ride forward and their leader, a Baronet, issues a command. “Get that cart off the road or lose it.”

“We’re working as fast as we can,” says the Ranger.

The Bard ventures a question. “Is the Countess Malgorzata in your train?”

“Why would you ask,” the Baronet replies, “and why would I answer?” He reaches for his sword.

“We’re friends of hers,” the Bard hastily explains with enough grace that the Baronet pauses.

“Your name,” he demands, and when supplied, shouts it back to the column.

“Yes, I know the man,” comes the Countess’ reply.

The Baronet decides not to murder the Bard and instead sends five of his men to dismount and help move the cart. This turns out to be surprisingly difficult as the party is actually trying to keep the cart on the road while the knights are trying to push it off.

Meanwhile the Bard slips back to where he can see the lady. “I apologize for the delay,” he says, “would you like a cup of tea while we wait?”

The Countess seems willing but the Captain at her side grunts, “No, she would not.”

“Well,” the Bard says, “might I counsel you to ride around? The road has gone to mud and I would not see your clothing stained.”

Again the Countess starts to agree, but her keeper grows even surlier. “No.”

The cart is almost clear; in desperation the Bard asks, “Then may I play you off, as a token of gratitude for your help?”

This time the Countess answers before her guard can. “That would nice.”

Once armed with song, the Bard quickly enraptures the Captain, the Countess, and the knight holding the box. He works in a suggestion: “Perhaps you would spare your horses the danger of an uneven road.” This time it works; the Captain nods absently while staring at his horse. Just as the knights remount after moving the cart, the Captain waves them all off the road and around it.

Of course it is a trap. As the column rides past the Bard he snatches the box from the still-befuddled knight, and the Druid and Ranger entangle the mounted column in writhing over-grown weeds.

The Baronet breaks free, as do four other knights down the column. The Cleric and Barbarian race to their horses and mount, leading the other’s horses back to where the Druid and Ranger are casting spells. The Druid casts another entangle, trapping one of the free knights, but the other three break free again although now they are quite a distance away.

The Baronet looks over his shoulder at the disaster and… spurs his horse to the west, in full flight. “A message for the King!” he shouts as he flees. The Ranger leaps into the saddle and gives chase, his lighter and faster horse hopefully a match for the Baronet’s heavy destrier. The Druid and Bard reach their horses and mount up, but can see the three knights coming back at them with lowered lances. Meanwhile the rest of the column has dismounted and is cutting their way out of the grass, a slow but steady process.

And the Countess Malgorzata stands in her stirrups and cries out. “I counted you friends!” Her red hair billows out around her, charged with magic. She may not have the Helm but she is still a pyromancer of not inconsiderable power.

The party is in the soup: split, flanked, and in the crosshairs of a fire-witch. Not a good situation, but not exactly a new one either.

Saturday, November 6, 2021

World of Prime: Campaign Journal #30

After the War Began

The losses from the war are light; only 58 men are dead, due largely to the considerable amount of healing power in the army. The next day the common and low-ranked bowmen rush out to the woods to hunt hobgoblins while the high lords convene to talk strategy.

A pair of knights ride into camp. The queen has sent couriers to bring back a report from the front. The knights are pleased to see that all is well. Before they depart they drop off a welcome addition: the party’s Wizard, keen to rejoin his comrades in the field.

The party decides to send out scouts to the west and south, looking to get a lay of the land. After four days the scouts from the south return to report nothing of interest; hobgoblin villages stretch on for another ten miles but after that is only wilderness.

The scouts from the west, however, report nothing, because they do not return.

The party considers sending Count Garth to scout, but decide that they should go themselves. They follow the river west a single day before encountering goblin forces in the form of four ogres and two trolls.

The party opens with the usual Entangle, immobilizing half the enemy. One troll charges up to the Barbarian and lays into him with a full attack. Another crawls out of the entangle and tries to close, along with one of the ogres.

The Ranger finds himself fencing with a troll, not losing but not winning either. The Wizard sends a swarm against an entangled ogre… only to see it foiled by magical protection. The Druid summons lighting, the Bard begins to sing, and the Cleric calls forth a spiritual hammer.

All of this is wholly inadequate preparation for the fight to come. As the monsters close, the Wizard ups his game, fireballing a troll, an ogre, and the rogue swarm that is now seeking something it can feed on. The Ranger tries another entangle, trapping one ogre that had gotten free, but leaving him still facing a troll. The others make largely ineffective attacks, though a lightening bolt finishes off an ogre.

Meanwhile, hidden assassins keep shooting heavy crossbow bolts. While the damage isn’t terribly threatening, the constant saves vs. poison are beginning to be a problem.

Then the troll tears into the Barbarian with both claws, leaping into the air to rake with his rear claws again. The Barbarian goes down hard. A single point more and he would be dead! The Bard, the only one close enough, dashes in to heal the Barbarian with potions. The troll batters at him but somehow only lands a lame bite. The Bard uses another potion to bring the Barbarian back to consciousness (though he wisely pretends to still be incapacitated), but then the troll lands a brutal claw and tears his throat out. The Bard is dead!

The Druid has turned into a bear; the troll leaves its fallen foes and rushes to attack something worthy of its claws. The Bard, no longer the direct target of the fearsome beast, stops playing dead and protects himself with mirror images. (I made all the other players make a Will save, and when they all failed, told them the Bard was dead. A few of them were even fooled briefly.)

The Bear-ized Druid and the troll are a fair match for each other. Meanwhile the Ranger is still fighting his troll. The Wizard pauses to detect magic, having realized that the creatures are protected from both summons and fire. The Cleric dispels all of the spells on one of the assassins and gets shot for his trouble. He decides to deal with the poison before it leaves him paralysed.

The Wizard then dispels the troll’s protections, allowing the Cleric to summon a celestial hippogriff to finish it off. The Druid-bear charges to engage the remaining troll and ogre and engages them in battle. The two goblin assassins, seeing how the fight must end, order the last ogre to cover their retreat and disappear into the wilderness.

This was an epic battle, with everyone damaged and over half the party in single-digit hit-points. The trolls in particular were very dynamic, either doing minimal bite damage or landing massive amounts of claw and rend damage. And of course the Barbarian’s Greek Fire grenades were desperately necessary to keep the trolls down. The ogres were so heavily armored that magic was almost the only effective way to deal with them.

Battered, bruised, and spell-less, the party cuts their recon short and return to the army. Their sorry state causes some concern, and they decide to end the mission. But in the morning the Druid notes that only four more days of hobgoblin hunting will see yet another member of their party gaining a rank (three have already gone up from the previous battle), so they choose to stay.

It is a fateful decision, because the goblin assault lands on the 8th day. Over four hundred goblins besiege the keep. The humans decide that time is not on their side, and immediately try to break through. The party, along with the free companies, takes the lead, while the Vicar Neve and her royals are in the van, with the other land-holders bringing up the rear. (This was mostly so we could reduce the battle to just a few units, since we were back on Roll20 instead of staring over a huge map in person.)

The battle is lopsided, though. The Wizard ignores the threat of arrows and fireballs the goblin archer units into oblivion. After he kills each one, the others manage to drop him with long-range indirect fire, only to see the Cleric patch him up again so he can kill the next company.

The bugbear knights prove rather hardier, and once they engage the free companies in melee begin to do serious damage. The free companies are all archer units and are heavily outclassed by heavy cavalry. Meanwhile, the bugbears prove they can even pound the Barbarian into negative hit-points. It begins to look almost like a fight, but the Cleric’s healing pulls the Arrow Free company out of a steep dive and the dice finally break our hero’s way. Entangle and spiky roots dominate the battlefield, preventing the hobgoblin hordes from being a threat.

They continue their retreat to the capital, not desiring to see if the goblins have any more attacks planned. But the further the army gets from the battlefield, the less they fear retribution and the more they desire another victorious slaughter. By the time the army presents itself to the Queen, it is already eager to return to the field.

The Queen reminds the party of their promise. She points out that sacking goblin cities would be a lot easier with a Helm of Brilliance on their side. She also notes that there are three goblin kingdoms, just like there are three human ones; if the human realm could unite under a single throne then they could strike with the force of three against each of the goblins in turn. And if Queen Rian gained the helm, along with her sister’s apparent command of the dragon, it would not be long before every human knee was bent to her.

The party must now decide if they want to pursue diplomacy and intrigue, or return to the bloody battlefield. They could also choose a stealthy strike mission into goblin lands, as the rogue Eslyt’s offer to sneak them into a goblin court still stands.

While the Druid surprisingly has had enough of blood for the moment, the party can’t help but notice that however unwieldy, expensive, and time-consuming armies are, their actions yield staggering amounts of tael. All but one of them has reached 6th rank from this war, and it has only begun. Even if they decide to pursue the helm, it will only be a stepping stone to more war.

Saturday, September 11, 2021

World of Prime: Campaign Journal #29

The Irryrian Invasion

The party returns to court and presents its present of incense. Vicar Neve is thrilled to the heavens; Queen Rian, however, plays her cards close to her chest.

Warfare in a feudal society is less a matter of state policy than of personal choices. The queen gives the party licence to recruit for their attack on the goblins, but refrains from making her own commitment until they have raised a sizable private force.

This is the Bard’s territory, and the party follows him on a whirlwind tour of the kingdom. They discover a wide range of attitudes. County Eicoarraecae is decimated, its count destroyed in the party’s last goblin adventure. However, soldiers must eat, and they like successful leaders: after all, the party returned from that foray intact. The party raises a company of yeomen and a troop of ranked marksmen as permanent household guards for only a signing bonus of 2,500 gp, the promise of 5,000 gp a year in salary and upkeep, and a standard share of the booty. Added to the sailors they already employ, the party has now crossed the threshold: they are no longer a free company, but a political entity.

However, both the free companies of the county are hard ”No’s”. Baronet Hubert, of the armored Iron Company that accompanied the late Count on that fatal venture, does not care to face the dragon again. Baronet Gabriel of the Lance Company tells them to their face that they underestimate the power of the dragon and that their mission is suicidal. But why would they listen to some small-time adventurer from distant lands with a reputation for defeating strange and powerful beasts? They shrug off his warning and move on.

Count Garth of Hoolliolae is keen; he, his personal retinue, and his company of cataphracti are all available for merely their share of the spoils. The party funds the temporary formation of another free company from the local gentry for 1,750 gp, bringing another troop of marksmen on-board complete with their own cleric.

Oorlournearsio, the swamp county they keep passing through on their way to the goblins, is regretfully unable to contribute at the moment. The Curate Siagny is struggling to hold her misfit county together as it is.

Lady Irwen, the sometimes erratic ruler of Ameappaoqua, is ambiguous. She wants to see what the queen commits before she commits her own forces, and even then she is asking for cash to get involved. The party extracts a compromise: the lady, half her retinue, and her cataphracti company will accompany them for only 1,500 gp if the queen sends at least an entire regiment. The party, concerned about raising enough force, decide to meet the Arrow Company’s signing fee of 2,000 gp, and add another free company to their coalition.

Flodaighoast gives them the cold shoulder. Curate Anna faces too many raids from the human kingdom to her west to worry about goblins. Only a substantial inducement of 2,000 gp convinces the resident free company, the Company of the Long Shaft, to join them.

With these lists of names in their hands they return to the capital. The Order of the Stag, the most powerful non-governmental body in the kingdom, meets their invitation with nothing but frowns. They cannot be swayed, and the party settles for buying the much smaller Order of the Hound for another 2,000 gp. Still worried about impressing the queen, they hand over another 4,500 gp to organize three temporary troops of ranked marksmen from the free gentry of the town, each of which comes with its own Troubadour. Lady Alys the Jongleur is waiting only for an invitation, and gladly jumps to be of service to the realm.

Now they approach the throne with only slight trepidation. Neve greets them warmly; the queen is still reserved. Yet she will not send her sister unprotected into danger. She grants them a regiment, a third of her entire army. Four companies of yeomen, one company of dragoons, and two troops of marksmen.

However, she extracts a promise: after the goblins are reduced, the party will undertake to retrieve the Helm of Brilliance for her realm. The party is uncertain as to how this can be accomplished, but they want her troops too much to say no.

She also makes it clear that the party is to return with Neve, or not at all.

The party has now invested a vast sum into making this happen, for which they get only their fair share of the spoils. Still, they have traded gold for the chance of tael, and that is the engine which drives the lives of the ranked. They set forth with banners flying, as a substantial portion of the power of the realm falls in behind them.

The march south is uneventful; the way is well-known and the goblin patrols have already been smashed once. On the morning of battle, when the next advance will bring the army to close with the goblin city, the dragon appears in the sky, glowing more golden than the sunrise.

Neve stands in the saddle, refulgent with the power of the incense, and chants with the confidence of conviction. The dragon draws close; the party is granted their first proper look at the creature. And that look shakes them to their bones. In a flash of inspiration the Cleric realizes that Neve is completely insane; her paltry rank cannot possibly compel a monster of this power. (I made the Cleric look up the rules for turning while the Bard made a roll to determine the dragon’s CR. The party immediately began casting every spell they could think of to boost her chances, but even that was not enough).

The party looks left and right, but there is nowhere to hide. Flight is not possible from the flying freight train bearing down on them. Neve chants louder, still unconcerned; the army holds its collective breath; and then… the dragon turns away.

As it flies south, out of sight, the army leaps to its feet. Divine providence has blessed their cause and they press on with bloodlust heightened to a burning edge. Only the party looks at each other, wondering what has just transpired; only they seem aware that the dragon chose to withdraw for reasons unknown but undoubtedly nefarious.

The ensuing battle is somewhat anticlimactic. The party has brought overwhelming force against the depleted goblins, including two land-holders whose retinues include healers and are therefore nigh-indestructible. The army’s advance is contested but never truly in doubt. Even the trolls cannot inflict much damage before the Barbarian knocks them down.

At the gates of the city the goblins mount a desperate defense. The Barbarian, eager as always, scrambles over the walls and attempts to engage an entire company of spearmen single-handedly. This appears to be the limit of his abilities, as they stab him to the ground with a hundred thrusts. Fortunately Count Garth is unwilling to cede all the glory, and his troop smashes through the gates and captures the city. The party finds the Barbarian, unconscious but fortunately not in danger of bleeding out, lying in the rubble.

The common troops rampage through the city, killing everything that breathes. Even the goblin’s horses are destroyed, as they are unmanageable by human hands. The high lords gather in the goblin keep and oversee the collection of treasure.

The other lords look to the party for guidance, as this is their operation. The party decides to occupy the city for at least nine more days while the yeoman hunt hobgoblins in the forest, yielding sizeable portions of tael. After that their food will run out, and they are not willing to chance goblin fodder. The retreat home, like the march here, will require no rations, as the army is almost entirely composed of huntsmen who can forage with ease in the wild; but the goblins have long since hunted their own lands into depletion.