Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Polybius
Raw
GM
Avatar of Polybius

Polybius Rhymer

Member Seen 9 days ago

Episode 1: The gang avoids a TPK

Mid-moon, Summer, Year 407
The company find themselves camped inside the ruins of an ancient and terrible fortress, healing their wounds and pondering the next course of action.

Pretend there are some dark clouds and shit all around. It's evil.

Three days ago, our heroes battled their way through an ancient and wicked tower, home to the evil wizard Phaendor Goatrider....
Encountering a dozen reanimated skeleton warriors within the hold, the company found their ranks greatly reduced, but managed to defeat the reanimated skeleton warriors. Exploring further, the remaining heroes discovered a magical creature known as a fungoid imprisoned by Phaendor, whom they quickly freed.Humphrey the Mushroom, thankful for his release explained that Phaendor had planned to use his magic for recreational use when the wizard found himself in a better frame of mind. The company agreed to take Humphrey with them and the fungoid ensured everyone had plenty of hit points, and giggled for no reason at all.

Our heroes continued to battle their way through the tower, finally encountering Phaendor himself, and his evil minion, the terrible, winged red haired goat Sassafras. An epic battle ensued and many dice were rolled. Phaendor was eventually reduced to 1 hit point and Escaped! like a bitch. Alas! before he flew away on his hircine companion, Phaendor managed to cast one last spell. The brave leader of the company, Sir Sigurd was unceremoniously transmogrified into an amphibian.


Sir Sigurd, Company Commander

Of the dozen brave souls that entered that tower, only four remained. The Commander was rendered amphibious. But they had a new companion, Humphrey, who was a pretty cool dude. The company had little else to do, save gather their softly croaking leader, what little treasure and coin they had managed to scrounge and make camp in the tower itself to plan their next course of action.


The Tower, Just before Midnight

It is mid-summer and the heroes are gathered around a small cook-fire on the ground floor of the tower. A gentle, warm rain falls through the tower roof, destroyed in the battle that took place their only a few short days ago. The room is rather large, being the base of a once mighty tower. Supplies are stacked here and there; some treasure chests filled with gold and artifacts lay in a corner, covered in a canvas tarp.

The door and only entrance to the tower is well intact, locked with a heavy iron beam to whatever creature might be roaming the wilderness outside in the darkness. It is wide enough for one man only to enter at a time. Opposite the door is a small antechamber with an ancient cistern well. The water drawn from the well has thus far proven safe to drink. Humphrey has claimed this room for himself and can be heard softly snoring.

The stairs leading to the upper chambers of the tower have also been destroyed in the battle, making it impossible to reach the second or third level of the tower, although they might be repaired with the proper supplies and know-how.

To the east are descending steps to a basement where the company decided to place the bodies of their fallen companions. They managed to scrape together what equipment and coin they could from the bodies, and covered them in some spare sheets they found in Phaendors boudoir.

The company commander, Sir Sigurd sits in a shallow wooden bowl filled with some dirt, moss, and a bit of fresh water, flicking his tongue to catch the mosquitoes and fireflies that wander too close to the bowl.

It is here, around the fire we begin our story...
3x Laugh Laugh
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Dark Cloud
Raw
Avatar of Dark Cloud

Dark Cloud 💀Vibin' beyond the Veil💀

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

Anslem, in all his years hadn't seen such a sorry bunch of mercenaries since he was a young man. They used to be a grand company, but now? Now they were four tired, and bloody folk whose only leader was now a gods damned frog. He shook his head, staring into the flickering firelight and took a swig of the swill he had swiped from the cellar after they had put their comrades to rest below.

"Fucking hell," he sighed passing the jug to the person next to him "I can't stand this shite." Anslem grimaced, the taste of the brew somewhat asinine.
1x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Zoey Boey
Raw
Avatar of Zoey Boey

Zoey Boey Spider!

Member Seen 8 hrs ago

Aya was flicking through some scrap pieces of paper. "All these boo-hoo letters to loved ones. We're not actually expected to deliver this crap, are we? I mean, unlike those guys, I actually have a life. I have things to do." She dropped down into a crouch next to their commander. It was a squat much like a frogs, her elbows on her knees.

"What do you think, Boss?" She cupped her ear. "...Y'know, there's some benefits to him being like this, now. For one: no more shitty ideas. We didn't even get to kill that Phaendor guy. If I ever see another skeleton warrior again, I quit. I mean, that was baloney. How the hell am I supposd to slit the throat of a skeleton? I can't." She stopped picking her teeth with her dagger and holstered it.

She ran a hand through her short brown hair. Then she popped up into a standing position. "I think I'd make a good leader. It can't be Anslem. What, swap out one grumpy 'experienced' merc for another? No thanks. Can't be Oliver, he's completely delusional. It can't be Victor because..." She trailed off. "Well, that one's obvious." She was talking like nobody else was in the room- or maybe she was talking loudly to herself. Or perhaps every time she talked, she was talking to everyone in the room except for the person she was talking about.

"And it can't be Humphrey because- actually, well, hmm." She glanced at the door to the cistern Humphrey had claimed. "We'll put a pin in that. It could be Humphrey. His last name is what he is." Aya mused. Then, she clapped her hands together and galloped over to a treasure chest, picking up some weird looking artifact and occupying herself with it.

"So, that's the vote. Me, or Humphrey. But he's indisposed at the moment, sleeping, so he's a no-show for the vote, which makes me the leader. Yeah, I think that all works out. First decree as leader- no more skeletons unless they're wrapped up in living meat!" She pointed into the air.
2x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by GingerBoi123
Raw
Avatar of GingerBoi123

GingerBoi123

Member Seen 2 mos ago

Victor sat by the window of the room, staring out into the wilderness and keeping watch as he fiddled with one of his arrows. Out of all the things that could've happened, their Commander was stuck as a frog and now he had to listen to the grumbling of an old man and the pointless rambling of a petty thief. He rolled his eyes when he was mentioned but tried not to say anything about it until Aya had finally finished her spiel. The Ranger took one last look outside before stepping down from his makeshift perk, sliding the arrow back into his quiver.

"You might've meant it as an insult but I'm fine not being considered. Command doesn't suit me. However... if you think I'm gonna sit here and listen to your complaining while you boss us around, think again." He retorted as he took down his hood and took a seat by the fire, his raven black hair draping his shoulders.
2x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Dark Cloud
Raw
Avatar of Dark Cloud

Dark Cloud 💀Vibin' beyond the Veil💀

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

If the old mercenary were offended at all his grizzled mug offered nothing more than a look of plain annoyance, Anslem didn't much care for types like Aya. All loudmouthed and brash, more like to get themselves killed over a dare or their own foolhardiness.

"Be what it may, I couldn't give less of a bloody shite who leads." slamming back the remaining swill in the dusty ceramic jug, he wiped what dribble it left upon his chin and unceremoniously belched "But he has a fuckin point," Anslem nodded to Victor, then leaned towards the fire and hawked a glob of mucus into the makeshift pit "If you think your gonna run that lip o' yours while you do fuck all then lass I'd sooner eat dog shite than follow you."
1x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Zoey Boey
Raw
Avatar of Zoey Boey

Zoey Boey Spider!

Member Seen 8 hrs ago

"...Woah! Where's all this coming from?" Aya said, looking genuinely caught off guard by their reactions. One guy was being mysterious and aloof, and the other guy was just being plain gross. Victor and Anslem.

"You can't say you don't care who leads while also saying you don't want me to be leader. That means you do care. You stodgy bastards." She cartwheeled over to the frog in the bowl, grumbling to herself about 'complaining'.

"Complaining. Complaining! Wouldn't you agree that the previous management has failed us in some way?!" Aya proclaimed, offended. She squatted over the frog, emphatically gesturing at him. "He's a frog! And we have plenty of money now! I say we go to the nearest town and see if we can pick up any fresh faces! We could pay them so much. They'd be stupid to turn us down. Then we can go around and get even more money with all our new, better people. Or, cool new weapons!" She nodded, grinning.

"And along the way we could find a lovely pond to give our dear Commander Sigurd a well deserved retirement." She pet the frog on the head with one finger.

1x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Polybius
Raw
GM
Avatar of Polybius

Polybius Rhymer

Member Seen 9 days ago

"And along the way we could find a lovely pond to give our dear Commander Sigurd a well deserved retirement." She pet the frog on the head with one finger.


Sir Sigurd was not amused. Sigurd narrowed both eyes at Aya with what could only be described as contempt. Retirement?. Retirement!? his little frog lungs wanted to scream, instead belching a hearty "Rrrrrribbit!" of frustration. Blast that damned goat-loving wizard Phaendor! Being transmogrified is but a minor setback! Sir Sigurd flicked his tongue and blinked one bulbous eye slick with mucus. He would have to get used to this body, until he could find a healer of considerable power...



Although his communication skills would need some work, Sir Sigurd was still entirely capable of carrying on with human thoughts and emotions. But gods-damned did this water feel downright erotic on his slick skin. Nevermind that! he flustered. "brrrr...ibbit" It would seem his primitive amphibian brain was in contention for his higher-human thinking.

He hopped up and down, flicking water and moss and tumbling his wooden bowl over, revealing the commanders medal. A simple, bronze thing with the symbol of sword, coin and shield. The guilds would only recognize a commander and company who carried that symbol, and had done so since the first mercenaries arose during the Witch-Wars, some two hundred years prior. Without the medal, they might be branded as brigands or outlaws. But first things first...

Sir Sigurd wanted to shout: "Look you bastards! Someone grab the commanders medal and let's get the hell out of this cursed tower! Don't you know that evil lingers where necromancers make...well....EVIL!??"

Suddenly, a loud groan sounded from far below, in the basement. The scraping of rusty weapons and bone on stone.

Somewhere in the distance, perhaps a little hamlet I just made up, a church bell struck the hour of midnight.

"Fuck," thought Sigurd.

Scraping, shuffling, shambling. The sounds of the dead. The eight dead companions the company had laid to rest in the tower basement. Of course they would be reanimated interred on unholy ground. Sir Sigurd turned to face the stairs. Two evil red eyes glared back at him from the basement stairs, rising. Joined by another and another pair, the shambling zombies were nearly at the top of the stairs.

Combat!




OOC:
The company of heroes sits around the fire. In just a few moments, eight undead zombies will emerge from the basement stairs. Sir Sigurd is hopping up and down franticly as he has noticed the creatures first. Weapons are close at hand (the ones described in your character sheets), as is the campfire, a barrel of high alcohol content wine, and a barrel of water. The front gate is about ten feet away and locked with a very heavy wooden bar. The door to Humphrey Mushrooms chamber is likewise ten feet away opposite the main door. The treasures the company have gathered are also nearby but lashed tightly with rope and tarp in corners. The zombies will fan out and begin attacking and or eating the nearest living creature in sight.


1x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Zoey Boey
Raw
Avatar of Zoey Boey

Zoey Boey Spider!

Member Seen 8 hrs ago

Aya flinched as the frog ribbited loudly. She had assumed he had a frog brain as well, and well, there was nothing to prove her otherwise yet anyway. Being right there as he hopped out of the bowl, the ambitious rogue spotted the commander's medal at the bottom of the bowl. "Why, for me? Thank you, Commander!" She said cheerily, snatching the shiny object up in a heartbeat. She slipped it into her pouch.

When she heard the zombies, Aya popped up into a standing position. "Son of a- quick, run!" Before she booked for the door, she span on her heel. "No, our money! Fight! Fight for the money!"

Her eyes flittered around the room in an instant. As they shambled up the stairs, she went into action. "I've drunk enough- get the wine on them!" She ordered one of the strapping men in the room. Then she scrambled to the campfire and lifted a burning branch from it, holding it by the non-flaming end. As soon as the wine was on the zombies she'd drop the flame on the alcohol and set them all on fire.

1x Like Like
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Dark Cloud
Raw
Avatar of Dark Cloud

Dark Cloud 💀Vibin' beyond the Veil💀

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

An interesting plan, although Answers wouldn't say such sappy crap out loud. The old mercenary just snorted, looking somewhat surprised and a little taken back. That was good wine, least if it weren't already uncorked but still it was a waste was it not?

Grumbling he stood following Anya's example, grabbing a piece of wood from the fire with one hand while drawing the shortsword with the other. His weathered and calloused hand singed by the heat, Anslem was quick to throw the burning wood towards the undead as they clattered towards them, stepping back with his blade at the ready.

"Getting too old for this shit." Anslem muttered to himself with an exasperated sigh.
1x Like Like
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet