Moonday, 27th Anyas, 528 NR, Mid-morning, Part Two

The friends looked about in confusion as, once again, they saw footprints in the dust and heard the gnome's piercing voice cackling in their midst. Still, the creature was not visible to their eyes. Afraid for all of their safety, Phoebe called upon the power of Bahamut and fired off a Beacon of Hope. Immediately, one of the drakes and all three of the remaining human rabble staggered, as if weakened by an unseen force. At the same time, all of the companions--with the exception Raxil, who was outside of the range of the blessing--felt strengthened and rejuvenated. After barely a moment's pause, blades, clubs, and Bakbuk's giant maul were swinging in every conceivable direction as the dwarf, warlord and rogue struggled with the robed riff-raff. Bakbuk and Paget both took wounds, but neither was very severe due to the diggers' divinely weakened state. Nevertheless, the halfling was left bloodied even though he managed to cut down another one of their attackers.

The spectral apparition of Kalarel floated closer to the group and muttered an arcane phrase. Instantly, one of the dead human diggers sprung back to life. The undead creature, with its lifeless eyes, lunged at Bakbuk and slammed him hard on the side of the head. Paget, surprised and frightened by the unexpected and unnatural resurrection of his most recent victim, staggered backwards into the waiting jaws of the remaining drake. Fortunately, the lizard was still under the draining effects of Phoebe's blessing, and was unable to do too much damage.

From his hillside vantage point, Raxil watched the battle beneath him very carefully. Then, it happened! The enemy made a fatal mistake, and bunched up into a cluster. Almost without thinking, the young wizard flung an ignition spark into their midst, which exploded into a powerful Scorching Burst. The risen zombie rotter and both of the living human rabble were consumed by the violent blaze, and fell dead at Bakbuk's feet. The dwarf raised his maul in salute towards Raxil, leaving himself exposed. Without any warning whatsoever, the gnome skulk suddenly materialized at the base of the hill and launched a crossbow bolt straight into Bakbuk's chest. The warrior groaned, and staggered under the force of the blow. Still, Bakbuk stood his ground.

Phoebe bent and lit a Sacred Flame at Paget's feet. The healing fire burst outwards and sealed several of the halfling's wounds, and flooded over the drake's hind side as well, though it failed to do any damage. Angered by the loss of his devotees, but apparently unphased, the apparition of Kalarel drifted up the hill and once again spoke the arcane words which caused another one of the dead diggers to rise from the earth. The mindless creature immediately turned to seek out its first victim. It didn't move far before Bakbuk's maul removed its head from its shoulders with a dull, wet, splat. The digger was dead... again.

Zombie Rotter

Gildras, seeking to take charge and end the battle quickly, raised his sword high above his head and called out to Lead the Attack against the remaining drake. He brought his blade down in a savage slice, and tore a deep gash across the side of the lizard's neck. Paget heeded the tiefling's call, moved into flanking position and tore into the drake with a vision-blurring Trick Strike. The creature reared back and bit Paget hard, but the halfing was able to shake loose and keep his footing. Meanwhile, Raxil--in a nimble maneuver that belied his frail stature--slid down from the safety of his rocky perch and landed on his feet on the road behind Gildras. The wizard drew his hands together, conjured a Scorching Burst, and flung it away from the melee. Phoebe looked confused, until she saw the smile of satisfaction on Raxil's face, and the unparalleled rage on Kalarel's. Her friend had charred the two remaining human corpses, and deprived the specter of his source for undead minions.

DM Note: There isn't really a metagame mechanic that I'm aware of for the destruction of a corpse during combat to prevent a reanimation effect, but this was a clever idea that X came up with all by himself, so I let it happen. Not bad for a 9 year old! I am certain that his little burn-the-body trick affected the outcome of this fight by effectively eliminating 2 enemies before they ever hit the battlefield. 

Seeing that things were going badly, the gnome fired a pot-shot from his crossbow towards nobody in particular, turned and ran. To the apparition, he yelled "I will come to you, Kalarel. You will have your artifact! Just hold them off." With that, he scrambled up the hill to where Raxil had stood moments before, and headed north across the open grass.

With the threat of the gnome apparently out of the picture, the party focused its attention on getting rid of the drake, so they could band together against Kalarel's summoned apparition. Phoebe lit another Sacred Flame, this time at the feet of the drake, and its radiant heat seared flesh away from the raging beast at the same time that it warmed Bakbuk and mended his wounds. Gildras spoke an Inspiring Word to the dwarf, bringing his friend back to full health before burying his longsword near to the hilt in the drake's back. Bakbuk, no longer hindered by the pain of his wounds, raised his maul, grunted, and hammered the life out of the drake with a massive Reaping Strike.

The moment the great lizard fell, Paget turned to face the oncoming apparition of Kalarel. The rogue ducked down and brought his twin daggers about in a Sly Flourish, hoping that the specter was substantial enough to wound. The creature swatted Paget aside, reared back, and suddenly transformed. Its face, initially a pale, transparent mockery of a human instantly mutated into a Horrific Visage of terror. With red, glowing eyes, slavering fangs, and a countenance of pure, evil rage, the apparition reared back and let out a shriek that seemed to burst forth from the depths of an open grave. The sound was accompanied by a tangible force that poured over Gildras, Raxil and Phoebe, knocking them all several paces backwards and searing their skin with frigid heat.

Raxil, at the base of the hill behind Kalarel, was protected from the assault. Still, he was terrified by what he had just seen and was eager to put an end to this monster from beyond the grave. The wizard pulled his arms back, and a shimmering arrow of green, glowing liquid streaked to his target and burst in a spray of sizzling acid. The projectile slammed into the specter's back, and the creature arched its spine and wailed in rage. It flailed about, searching for the source of its pain. The rest of the companions shook off their fear and moved back into position, preparing themselves to face this evil head on.

Moonday, 27th Anyas, 528 NR, Mid-morning, Part One

The five weary companions trudged through the forest south of Winterhaven for at least an hour before they started to come upon identifiable landmarks. Using Raxil's map, they finally found an old hunting trail that led to the supposed dig site where "they" dragged the archaeologist prisoner off to, after the wagon ambush. The party was mildly concerned about the fact that they had no idea who--or what--this mysterious "they" consisted of. Humans? Kobolds? Goblins? Or, something altogether different, and more sinister? They were about to find out!

A steep-sided crater punctured the wilderness. Near the center of the depression, several humanoid figures clustered around a collection of bones. Two small, dragon-like creatures near the crater rim stood alert and stared at the companions' approach. On the far side of the crater, a sinister apparition presided over the gathering.

Gildras raised a hand in warning, and the friends stopped dead in their tracks. The five of them stared down the sloping path into the pit, and those within stared back up at them. After a few moments of tense silence, many of the robed figures picked up their tools and resumed digging, effectively ignoring the newcomers. One short, stout creature waved its hand in what appeared to be a greeting. The friends were confused at this behavior. Gildras, in particular, was very apprehensive.

Within the excavation site, there were several men who clearly appeared to be normal human beings. They were all armed, and appeared to be quite strong, and yet they made no threatening gestures. Two guard drakes paced nervously at the bottom of the road, eyeballing the companions, and occasionally letting out a loud hiss, but they were otherwise docile. The small creature, which Gildras determined to be a gnome, occasionally looked up at the party with mild interest, but was obviously more focused on the work at hand. What truly frightened the tiefling warlord, and the deciding factor in his dilemma, was the spectral apparition. There was no way the presence of the undead could be tied to anything good. With grim determination, Gildras drew his sword, and raised it high.

The gnome froze, and stared up at the warlord in unfeigned disbelief. "They're attacking us? They're attacking us! To arms! You men, there... protect the site!" Pointing to the drakes, the tiny dig master cried out, "Get them, you useless lizards! GET THEM!" With that, the gnome drew his cloak up over his head and vanished from sight!

One of the guard drakes rushed up the hill, its rapid, reptilian, side-to-side stride dizzying to look at. It snapped at Phoebe, who forced it to back down with a misfired Lance of Faith. Her aim was off, but it was enough to startle the creature into temporary submission. Gildras, sword at the ready, stepped forward, shoved Bakbuk into flanking position behind the drake, and brought his blade down hard, slashing the beast across the left cheek. It hissed and snapped at the tiefling, and Bakbuk whipped his maul around in a Reaping Strike and clobbered it in the haunches. Bone cracked, and dwarf smiled.

The Enemy!

Paget scrambled up and over a short, rocky landfall as the guard drake hissed and spit at him. He leaped off of a medium-sized boulder and tried to plant a Deft Strike between the creature's shoulderblades, but the beast stepped aside and the halfing missed his mark. The second drake came slithering up the hill and opened its wide jaws as if to chomp Bakbuk in two, but Raxil fired an expertly timed Magic Missile into its gaping maw, causing it to snap its mouth shut and flail its head back and forth in shock, pain, and anger. Hearing the drake's shriek of agony, the four human diggers fisted whatever weapons they could find nearby... pickaxes, shovels, hammers, and the like... and started rushing up the hill. At the same time, the spectral apparition floated down into the pit. Icy, undead claws sprouted from the dirt near Gildras' boots and tried to grope him, but the warlord managed to kick them aside with fear and revulsion, and avoided their deadly grasp.

The gnome's high-pitched and gravely voice could be heard above the chaos, yelling, "Kalarel, fear not. Your treasure is safe in my hands." The spectral image nodded towards its left, as if in response, but none of the companions could see the gnome apart from a tiny swirling dust cloud that marked its passage.

Back up on the road, one of the drakes lunged at Paget, but Bakbuk drew its attention and its teeth snapped together mere inches from the halfling's head. Phoebe summoned and launched a Lance of Faith at the beast, but the drake's powerful, long tail swept it aside and the divine weapon shattered in the dirt. Paget grinned at the cleric and offered up a cocky shrug, but his smile turned into an expression of terror and pain as one of the specter's icy claws emerged from the ground and gripped the rogue's ankle. Flesh withered and cracked, and Paget felt as if his very life was being drained from him.

4E Meta: Those claws are nasty. On a hit they deal instant necrotic damage, and drain the victim of a Healing Surge.

Gildras managed to push Paget out of harm's way by using his Wolf Pack Tactics, but the maneuver unbalanced him and his follow through with his longsword against the lead drake cut nothing but air. Bakbuk, on the other hand, landed a mighty side-swiping Cleave, which smashed into the drake's side just as one of the human rabble was stepping into melee range. The force of Bakbuk's blow knocked the reptile sideways into the rocky landfall, crushing the unfortunate worker between scaly flesh and unyielding stone. The man slumped to the ground, dead, leaving a red, wet smear on the boulder behind him. The dwarf smiled and grunted in satisfaction.

"Nice one!" Paget yelled as he muscled past in an attempt to finish off the wounded drake with a Sly Flourish. The creature went unexpectedly wild, however, and swatted the rogue aside easily with the side of its head. It turned with lightning reflexes and bit down hard. Paget cried out as he felt the bones and tendons in his wrist being crushed in the drake's iron jaws. Suddenly, two glowing beams of energy seemed to come out of the sky and slammed into the lizard's neck, causing it to release its grip on the halfling instantly. Paget looked up, and saw Raxil standing above him on the hillside, wand in hand, and laughing like a school boy. As the drake shuddered one last time, dropped to the ground, and started to slide down the rocky hill--dead--the young wizard raised his arms and victory and declared himself to be "Raxil, the dragon slayer!"

Paget rubbed his sore wrist, and growled "Congratulations, you get an achievement."

DM Note: This is something of a family personal joke, based on WoW's achievement system. Somehow, the standard "grats" that are offered when a player earns a new achievement has leaked into our home life. Whenever someone in our household is overly proud of himself for accomplishing something that might generally be regarded as unimpressive, X will shrug and sarcastically remark, "Congratulations, you get an achievement."

By this time, the remaining three diggers had reached the battle on the road and engaged the heroes in melee with their primitive weapons. As each ducked and dodged, trying to find an advantageous position, blows were traded with Gildras, Bakbuk and Paget. Just about everyone took cuts, scrapes and bruises as the combatants squared off to face one another in earnest.

Moonday, 27th Anyas, 528 NR, Early Morning

In the dark hours before dawn, Gildras struggled to bring himself to his feet. He was still hurt and bleeding, as were all of his friends, but a full night an a near-comatose sleep state did much to revitalize him. The warlord attended to his own wounds, then began waking the others. In no time, Phoebe had the group patched up and moving about, and the ever-silent Bakbuk had started a small cooking fire near the back of the cave. The warm glow of the flames forced back some of the dampness of the chamber, and helped to lift the companions' spirits.

By the time the sun started to rise, Gildras and Paget had scoured the cave, looking for anything useful, or of value. Gritting his teeth against the smell, Gildras rolled Irontooth's body onto its back and searched it. It was the first chance the tiefling had to study the goblin's demon skull tattoo up close. It didn't appear to have any arcane significance, but after staring at it for several moments, Gildras' eyes grew wide. "Orcus!" he exclaimed out loud, to nobody in particular. "This tattoo is a symbol of the lord of the undead, the demon Orcus. It appears that Irontooth might have been one of his followers!"

A more careful search of the corpse revealed a small, copper key. Paget had located a sturdy chest in the northeast corner of the cave, from where Irontooth first emerged. The halfling took the key from his friend and tried it out on the lock. It fit perfectly! Quickly, and with much excitement, the rogue yanked the chest open. He groaned in disappointment at the contents. There was nothing more than some old armor, and a scrap of parchment. He closed the lid and shuffled away.

Bakbuk, on the other hand, perked up at the jangling sound of maille being rustled. The dwarf padded over to the chest, grunting along the way, and pulled it back open with the end of his hammer. The normally dour-faced dwarf's countenance lit up like a yule tree. With near-reverence, Bakbuk extracted a chainmaille vest that sparkled in the diffused light of the morning sun. "Mmmm!" he exclaimed, appreciatively.  Phoebe approached and examined the magical armor. "Very nice!" she said, after a few moments. "Dwarven chainmaille. This should prove very helpful to our stout friend, if yesterday was any indication of what our new life of 'adventure' is going to be like." She scowled at Paget in mock anger. Bakbuk was already tossing aside his own battered chain shirt, and pulling Irontooth's treasure over his head. It was a snug fit, but the dwarf didn't care. The uncharacteristic glee on his face made even Raxil smile.

Realizing that Paget almost missed a critical piece of treasure, Phoebe took a second look into the chest. She reached in and pulled out the piece of tattered parchment that was stuck to the bottom. The cleric stared at it for several moments, and frowned deeply.

"A spy in Winterhaven. Grr... someone's up to no good. We need to get back to town and warn Lord Whatshisface about this! Maybe he knows who this Kalarel is, or something about the connection that Irontooth had with him, or Orcus." Phoebe was clearly agitated by the note, and she prattled on nervously for several more moments about the need for a speedy return, as she gathered the party's belongings and prepared to leave.

"But, what about that poor man?" Paget asked, quietly.

"What man?" The cleric was clearly preoccupied.

Raxil piped in and reminded Phoebe about what they learned from their goblin prisoner only the day before. "Don't forget, that guy that got kidnapped from the wagons. He sounds like he's in real trouble, if he's still alive!"

Phoebe's shoulders slumped.

"Raxil's right," Paget said. "If Irontooth's cronies, or Kalarel's, or Orcus... or whoever... went through the trouble of ambushing a caravan just to kidnap an archaeologist, he probably needs our help right away. He might not live long enough for us to return to town and call out the militia. That is, if Winterhaven even has a militia!"

She didn't like it, but Phoebe knew that her friends were right. "Okay then," she conceded. "Where's Raxil's map? Let's go find that archaeologist and rescue him so we can get back to Winterhaven. I need a bath like you wouldn't believe!"

Bakbuk sniffed the air near the cleric and chuckled to himself.

"What's his problem?" Phoebe asked, with a hint of irritation.

"Oh, I think he believes!" Raxil replied, and he and Paget quickly plunged through the waterfall and into the morning air, trying to stifle their fits of laughter.

Sunday, 26th Anyas, 528 NR, Mid-afternoon, Part Three

The tide had turned, and the battle's potential outcome no longer favored the companions. The odds had been evened, at best. Though the enemy's numbers had thinned, the wounded Irontooth had entered a raging frenzy that bordered on insanity. In a desperate attempt to re-gain control of the situation, Paget moved into flanking position and hit Irontooth with a perfectly timed Sly Flourish. The goblin leader was left bleeding from multiple open wounds, and still suffered from the burning acid of Raxil's arrow. But then, a wyrmpriest stepped out from the shadows and uttered a dark prayer to Orcus, and Irontooth and his cohorts appeared to be instantly refreshed and ready to face another round head on. The friends rose to the challenge.

Raxil drew out his wand and, aiming it carefully, fired an inerrant Ray of Frost into Irontooth's flank. Though the blow was partially absorbed by the wyrmpriest's blessing, the wizard still managed to deal a critical amount of damage, and the insane goblin was slowed in his tracks by the bitter cold. Phoebe drew upon her second wind, pushed herself beyond her normal limits to take another action, and lit a Sacred Flame at the feet of her foe. The flames rose up around Irontooth, but quickly faded, seeming to have no effect. Hissing in agony as Raxil's Acid Arrow seared away more flesh and sinew, the goblin flailed about wildly with both axes in a dizzying attack that narrowly missed Paget, but clipped Gildras hard, leaving him bloodied. Also calling upon a second wind, the warlord counterattacked from a flanking position with a savage Viper's Strike that took Irontooth full in the gut. Bakbuk followed up with a failed Spinning Sweep (which he later claimed was expertly faked), and came around a second time with the aid of his tiefling friend's Tactical Presence to land a tremendous Reaping Strike. Irontooth would not be able to take much more!

Both dragonshields and the remaining skirmisher forced their way into the melee in a mad attempt to save their leader. Bakbuk faltered under the dragonshields' merciless, constant ringing blows against his armor, and Paget was bloodied by a sharp jab from the skirmisher's spear. The halfling looked up and saw one of the wyrmpriests scamper past the group and disappear through the mists of the waterfall, screaming that Kalarel must be warned of the might of these intruders. A moment later, searing flames washed over Paget's back as the second wyrmpriest snuck up behind him and unleashed its Dragon Breath. Bakbuk tried to protect his friend with his shield, but only managed to receive a shortsword thrust through his thigh, from one of the dragonshields, for his heroic effort. Both companions were left singed, bloodied, and near death.

4E Meta: At this point, all five PCs were Bloodied. In other words, their wound totals were more than 1/2 their maximum HP totals. Paget was very near death, had no healing surges remaining, and Phoebe had used up all of her pure healing prayers. It was a truly dire situation!

All Five Companions Were Bloodied!

Mustering up every ounce of strength he had remaining in his small, frail body, Paget cried out in pain and anguish, "Retreat! We can't win this. Escape to the forest while we're still able!" Running past Irontooth, the halfling flicked his daggers out in a weak attempt to shed a little bit more goblin blood, then he plunged through the waterfall and disappeared from view. Raxil didn't hesitate to follow his friend's cue. The wizard fired a Magic Missile towards Irontooth, and the magical energy blast struck home. With a sly grin, Raxil turned and sprinted towards the raging torrent, and launched a second Magic Missile almost blindly over his shoulder as he vanished through the waterfall. He never saw the blast tear a steaming chunk of flesh from the crazed goblin's side. Bakbuk was almost too weak to move, so Phoebe moved forward and lit a Sacred Flame between the dwarf and Irontooth. The fire seared the goblin, causing it to begin wobbling on its feet, while at the same time it helped Bakbuk to rise and start moving. Seeing what was, most likely, her last opportunity to make a difference, Phoebe called upon Bahamut once last time to light a second Sacred Flame right in front of Irontooth. As the spark grew, and the heat intensified, Bakbuk ran out through the waterfall. The goblin's skin withered and cracked, and with a strangled, dying breath, Irontooth cried, "Kalarel, I have failed you. Orcus, prepare my way!" With that, the goblin crumpled to the ground, and died.

4E Meta: Everyone was using up their action points before running away.

Seeing their mighty master fall was too much for the remaining kobolds. Demoralized, and afraid for their lives, they dropped their weapons and scattered in every direction. Phoebe and Gildras made a few half-hearted attempts to dispatch one or two of them as they ran by, but the wounded companions were too exhausted, and too badly hurt to do any real damage. The pair clung to each other, as if for dear life, for several moments before they dragged themselves outside to fetch the rest of their friends. The five helped each other as they staggered and stumbled back into the relative safety of the now-abandoned cave, and all as one they collapsed into the mud. Not one of them spoke, and soon, they were all fast asleep. Even in their dreams, the pain and terror of the afternoon's events tormented them.

DM Note: Had I kept the second wyrmpriest in play, and had I decided to have both wyrmpriests, both dragonshields, and the remaining skirmishers pursue the PCs, I could have fairly easily wiped out most of--if not the entire--party at the end of this battle. But, D&D isn't DM vs. PC's. The decision to ease off a bit was a reward for some very smart decisions made by the players, a touch of beneficial drama to coincide with some wildly lucky dice rolls, and simple mercy. TPK's are never fun. Well, almost never! So far, our adventure together has been very fun, and I want to keep my players encouraged!

Sunday, 26th Anyas, 528 NR, Mid-afternoon, Part Two

The heroes recognized that this new threat might be more than they could handle, if they didn't act quickly to thin the ranks of the kobolds. Immediately, like a well-oiled machine, they combined their efforts to take down one of the powerful skirmishers. Paget fired off a Magic Missile towards the spear-wielding lizardman that was closest to him, but the nimble creature dodged aside and the energy dart sliced harmlessly into the western cavern wall. The defensive maneuver caused the kobold to whirl around just in time to meet Paget's twin daggers, which tore into its gut with a precision Positioning Strike, driving it towards Phoebe and Gildras. They were waiting with readied attacks! Phoebe's Healing Strike missed the skirmisher, but invigorated her dwarf companion who quickly positioned himself for a killing blow. Gildras lunged at the kobold with his longsword, and cut it deeply as he invoked his Wolfpack Tactics to drive the creature towards Bakbuk's readied maul. The fighter's hammer came down, and the unlucky skirmisher was no more.

Without warning, a burning Energy Orb exploded across Bakbuk's shoulders, bloodying the dwarf and nearly driving him to his knees. The companions turned just in time to see a robed wyrmpriest slinking back into the shadows at the southern end of the waterfall chamber. The distraction caught Gildras off guard, and he was wounded by powerfully thrown spear from one of the remaining skirmishers. The true danger faced by the companions became apparent when Irontooth himself came charging out of the northeast corner of the cavern complex, twin battleaxes blazing, and tore into poor Paget, who was left bruised and bloodied by the assault. The agile halfling moved with the force of Irontooth's attack, and used his momentum to land a brutal Trick Strike on the goblin chieftain, causing the creature to stagger back. The wounded rogue saw his chance, and fled towards the relative safety of his friends.


Kobold Dragonshield, Wyrmpriest & Irontooth Tokens

Phoebe shoved the injured and stumbling halfling behind Bakbuk, turned, and launched a perfectly aimed Lance of Faith towards the Goblin. Irontooth bellowed with rage as the radiant projectile tore through his shoulder blade. The cleric raised an arm in defiant cheer, but then was almost knocked into the dirt by another explosive Energy Orb, which was lobbed haphazardly in her direction by a second, stealthy wyrmpriest who was hiding in the southeast corner. Raxil stepped forward and, drawing his arms back as if pulling on an invisible bowstring, he fired a magical Acid Arrow deep into Irontooth's chest. The creature screamed as the acid began to eat away at his armor, and his flesh. In response, a dragonshield kobold emerged from the eastern end of the cavern and ran straight at Raxil with an outstretched shortsword, but missed its mark. Likewise, one of the skirmishers broke away from the melee with a sloppy slash towards Gildras and attempted to charge at the wizard with its spear, but it only managed to receive a deep gash across its back as Gildras swung his sword wildly at the retreating lizardman. While the companions were mostly preoccupied with protecting the robed wizard, Irontooth waded into the fracas with a devastating assault against Phoebe with his dual axes, rendering the cleric bloodied before the goblin, himself, doubled over in pain as Raxil's Acid Arrow continued to eat its way through his chest. Gildras spoke an Inspiring Word to Phoebe, healing some of her wounds, before moving her out of harm's way with his Wolfpack Tactics, and plunging his longsword into Irontooth's hip, bloodying him. A second dragonshield appeared from seemingly nowhere and nicked Phoebe with its shortsword, and at the same time managed to duck under Bakbuk's wild Cleave, which only barely clipped Irontooth's arm. The goblin turned and snarled with unfettered hatred in Bakbuk's face, giving the dwarf a close-up view of his demon skull tattoo (and a close-up whiff of his rancid breath).

FG II Meta: During this particular round, there was a need to mix and match a lot of different, semi-complicated modifiers and effects. It felt a little bit clunky, and there was more rules-lawyering than I generally care to see during an encounter. I like it when we can focus on the action and role-play, not on the meta details. Some of the 4E effects that we tried to implement in Fantasy Grounds II didn't operate as planned, and expired at the wrong times. So, this past week I spent a considerable amount of time learning about situational powers (FGII's answer to handling things like class features, racial traits, certain feats, and other non-standard effects). Now, many of the often forgotten or incorrectly handled little buffs and debuffs that come along during the course of an encounter should be largely automated! This is what the Combat Tracker looks like to the players (the GM version has a lot more data). Notice all the cool effects that are applied to each of the PC's!

In the next post, the exciting conclusion of the party's epic battle against Irontooth!

Sunday, 26th Anyas, 528 NR, Mid-afternoon, Part One

After an exciting, and very successful fight against Irontooth's outer defenses, the five friends were eager to forge ahead and complete their quest. Raxil led a brief discussion regarding which approach to take--the north entrance, south entrance, or plunge straight through the waterfall. Gildras felt that entering through one of the side entrances might be safer, but he was out-voted. The rest of the group wanted a frontal assault, through the waterfall. Phoebe's logic was that the raging waters would help to mask their entrance, since it seemed to have effectively drowned out the sound of their recent skirmish, and hid their presence from whomever... or whatever... was inside. Gildras insisted that, at the very least, Paget should sneak inside first to scope out the interior, and report back on his findings.

The eager young halfling was all too happy to comply, and he disappeared into the mists. As soon as he peaked his head through the other side of the torrent, Paget saw more than a dozen kobolds scurrying in and out of sight throughout the cave. Screams, shouts, and cries of alarm reverberated throughout the torchlit hollow the moment he came into view. "So much for stealth," the rogue muttered to himself as he dashed back outside to where his friends were waiting. Paget, dripping wet and shaking with nervous energy drew both daggers, and yelled "Yep, they're in there, and they're ready for us!" With that, he plunged back through the waterfall, straight towards the nearest waiting minion, and slashed the creature's throat with a quick slice of his blade. The reptile's cohorts reacted immediately, and before the first of Paget's companions had a chance to enter the cave, the halfling was already wincing in pain, with a kobold javelin protruding from his shoulder.

FGII Meta: This encounter, as written, occurs in two phases. For the first three rounds, the PCs faced ten minions and three skirmishers. After three rounds, Irontooth himself joined in, along with a pair of wyrmpriests, and a pair of dragonshields. I had already loaded all of the combatants into the Combat Tracker in Fantasy Grounds II, prior to beginning the encounter. So, as I was scrolling through the initiative order, my players could see the names of the phase 2 attackers, even though they were out of sight, and weren't taking any actions yet. In the future, for a multi-phase encounter, I think I'll load them up as separate encounters in FGII. At the appropriate moment, I'll drag incoming reinforcements onto the Combat Tracker. That way, the PCs won't get a sneak peak of what's to come!

Raxil came splashing enthusiastically through the waterfall, quickly assessed the situation, and launched a Scorching Burst at the nearest group of kobolds. The cocky young wizard wiggled his fingers towards his enemy, in an appropriately theatrical and "arcane" manner, and made explosion noises with his lips as the ignition spark flew into their midst. Raxil's ego was only slightly deflated with the blast completely missed all but one hapless minion, who disintegrated into a smoldering pile of ash. The surviving lizardmen launched spears and javelins at the cloth-wearing mage, and Raxil grunted in pain one of them managed to hit home. Kobold javelins were flying in every direction across the cavernous chamber when Phoebe and Gildras entered the fray. Most bounced harmlessly off of walls, or disappeared into the thundering waterfall, but at least one managed to cut Raxil deeply. The cleric fired off a Lance of Faith, and the warlord invoked his Wolf Pack Tactics on the minions closest to them, but both failed in their efforts. Just then, a breathless, wet, and angry Bakbuk came charging into view. Grunting and panting, he swung his maul at a spear-wielding skirmisher, as a kobold's javelin bounced harmlessly off of the dwarf's armored back. The fighter's heavy weapon missed its mark and sunk into the damp dirt floor with a dull, wet "thud," and Bakbuk growled with frustration.

These are the tokens I used for Kobold Minions
& Kobold Skirmishers, in FG II.

DM Note: Oops! The only reason that Bakbuk acted dead last is because, it seems, I forgot to roll initiative for him! I didn't notice the mistake until I reviewed the combat log to start typing this Story Hour.

Paget cut down another minion with a Deft Strike, as javelins continued to fly throughout the chamber. Several minions bunched up near their superiors, the skirmishers, in order to gain the advantage of mob tactics. A fatal mistake in the company of a war wizard! With childlike mirth painted all over his face, Raxil stretched out his arms and issued forth a wicked blast of Burning Hands. The searing flames washed over six kobolds in all--three minions, and three skirmishers. When the fire vanished, only the angry skirmishers remained. There was no sign that the minions had ever existed, apart from a few wisps of smoke. Raxil clapped and cheered at his success, and his friends were uplifted by his good fortune until two well-aimed javelins clipped Gildras and the wizard, and brought their moods crashing back down to the reality of the very real danger that they were facing.

Phoebe, hoping to finish what Raxil started, lit a Divine Glow at the feet of one of the skirmishers. It flared up into burning brilliance, but when the light faded, all three kobolds remained on their feet. Only one seemed to have been affected by the holy light. Bakbuk and Gildras began herding the remaining minions into a cluster, and both of them took javelin jabs to the ribs for their efforts, and Raxil also got caught in the crossfire. Phoebe blessed the warlord with a Healing Word as he deftly swapped positions with a nimble kobold, just in time for Bakbuk's maul to splatter the unfortunate creature into oblivion.

The halfling rogue plunged back into the fracas before the skirmishers' eyes had time to readjust to the gloom, after Phoebe's divine assault, and bloodied one of them with a vicious Sly Flourish sneak attack. The creature reversed its spear and plunged it into Paget's gut, in response, spilling more of the halfling's blood in the dirt. The other two skirmishers turned on the rogue as well, but Phoebe intervened with a hastily tossed Lance of Faith, while brushing aside a sloppy thrust from a minion javelin. Her attack went wide and missed its mark, but she managed to divert the kobolds' attention from their prey, and Paget was spared the worst of their assault. With a nod of thanks towards the cleric, the rogue shrugged through his pain and quipped, "I'm not trying to get myself killed. Really, I swear!"

In the confusion, nobody noticed the ignition spark of another one of Raxil's Scorching Bursts floating amongst them, and everyone was surprised when it went off. Perhaps it was the dampness of the cave, or the wizard's aim and timing may have been slightly off, but though the flames enveloped three kobolds, only one skirmisher ended up slightly singed. The injured reptile knocked aside a blow from Gildras' longsword, only to meet its doom at the end of Bakbuk's heavy maul, which crushed the creature with such fury that its adjacent minion also succumbed to the blunt force impact. A collective cheer went up among the friends, as the enemy ranks were thinning out rapidly. A quick victory seemed to be at hand.

At that moment, a harsh, bleating horn heralded the appearance of a burly, battle-scarred goblin. Around him, kobolds scurried as if afraid to get too close. A great tattoo depicting a skeletal ram’s head marked the goblin’s face. He wore a wolf fur cloak and a chain shirt, and he held a battle-axe in each hand.

The companions all turned to face this new threat, and their shoulders slumped. "Well that can't be good," Raxil observed, as the kobolds resumed their advance with renewed determination. Irontooth himself had joined the battle!


Irontooth

DM Note: This was a long battle (3+ hour session). I'll break it into two posts, so the reading (and the writing) doesn't get too be too much. More to come!

Between Sessions Observations and Musings

Z's back in town, and I'm hoping we'll play again tomorrow night. To prepare myself, and get myself back into the story, I just re-read the blog to date. While using the FG II chat log as a reference when writing definitely intensifies the blow-by-blow action, I think a lot of the personality of the players--and therefore the characters--is lost in the translation. I know that last weekend there were some great quotes, and several moments when we all either cheered out loud over a particular action, collectively groaned, or when things degenerated into fits of giggles. But, because these instances weren't recorded, I can't for the life of me recall the specifics. :(

Starting with our next session, I need to remember to document those golden moments. Since I'll have FGII open right in front of me, it'll be easy enough to do it right there in the chat log. That way, when I'm typing up the Story Hour at a later date and time, I'll have the notes available, and recorded during the right moment in the action.

Another thing I noticed is that everyone... myself included... still seems to be testing the waters with our 4E powers. We're all MMO-trained. We all understand role-based tactics. But, we're not using them. In every combat, each character has very much done his or her own thing. Well, to be fair, I shouldn't say "her," because Phoebe has definitely been doing her healing duties!

Since this is still a new campaign, still in the level 1 adventure, with new players at the table, and a rule set that's brand new to all of us, I feel like I can take a few liberties when it comes to letting my players behind the DM screen. At the top of our next session, I think I need to give a little bit of a prelude of what's to come, and offer a bit of training.

I'd like to see more active Skill checks. Specifically, Monster Knowledge can provide golden information when it comes to figuring out how to defeat a particularly pesky foe! Z already seized an opportunity to Intimidate a Bloodied enemy into submission. Kudos to him! Most of all, I'd like to encourage group combat tactics, not 5 solo fighters. This next encounter definitely has the potential for a TPK, if proper caution isn't exercised. The way the dice have been treating Paget, I don't want to see him end up as fish food due to lack of party support. He only has a finite amount of Healing Surges for Phoebe to take advantage of!