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32 pages. 32 freaking pages, people. I transcribed a LOT of good roleplay, so boy, I hope y'all appreciate this.
POST TOO LARGE?! POST TOO LARGE?! AAAAAAAAAAH!
With a new microphone that still needs tuning, the audio quality is a bit off this game; the new microphone is SO sensitive it’s picking up everyone and everything like mad. Alec has elected not to show up for this game, the loser, not that this surprises anyone. The game simply proceeds without him - and without the late-arriving Dian, either. We pick up with Iglar deciding not to buy the sword offered to him by Orialla, because it has no plusses.
Iglar: Iglar doesn’t give two cents about history, but he’s not impolite to ladies, so he’s going to say, “I find this a fascinating weapon; however, I’m not in a financial position to invest in the artifacts of this time, unfortunately-“
Saragassas: (muttering, as he leans over) Let me look at your intelligence real quick… (grabbing Iglar’s character sheet) Your intelligence is not high enough to be using those words! “Financial”, that’s way beyond your 10 there, buddy.
Iglar: Okay, “intent”. “I’m sorry, I’m not really into history.”
DM: “Duhhhh, sword good but me not have money.”
Iglar: 10, not 6!
The group returns home. The DM asks if they have any more business, which amounts to watering their plants.
Sargassas: Our house has its own fucking ecosystem, it can support itself!
Iglar: The Arborean waving fronds are waving?
DM: Yes. Your maid evidently was up to the task of caring for these strange and bizarre fauna. Flora.
Iglar: I tip her.
Ralth: Over.
Iglar: That didn’t go quite as planned.
Sargassas: (who still has Iglar’s character sheet) Okay, your Charisma is 11, you won’t try to rape her. If you had a Charisma of 8 I’d be like, uh-oh…
Iglar: Charisma has nothing to do with that! I think that would be Wisdom…
DM: Alignment, thank you.
Sargassas: I thought Charisma was social qualms…
Ralth: Wisdom is whether or not he does it.
Iglar: A low Charisma could just mean personality flaws… like compulsive raping.
DM: There’s a flaw for the books. Guys, this is Dungeons and Dragons, not FATAL, let’s keep it that way.
A long silence.
Iglar: What’s FATAL?
DM: I sense a post on the Facebook page coming up… I can’t encapsulate it in words otherwise. Uh, just don’t read this link at work.
The party sleeps. The DM asks who’s on watch.
Sargassas: Someone made the mistake of sneaking into the basement. We wake up and all the plants have gained, like, 2000 experience.
DM: What snuck in?! It was like some sort of archdemon!
Sargassas: One of the sentient tentacles has a cleric’s hat on. Apparently it shows a class.
DM: Why does this vine have a holy a symbol?
Iglar: Are we ACTUALLY rolling Listen checks?
DM: No!
Ralth: Dammit, I rolled good!
After a brief discussion of the Leadership feat, Iglar abruptly rewinds time to get his booze identified. For this he needs a historian (i.e. sage), and so goes to the guild. Dian finally shows up.
Iglar: “I’m told these are over 500 years old.”
Dian: 500 years old, no wonder it rocked your gut so bad!
Khoriane: Sell no wine before its time…
The DM references the map just to get the players complaining about it again. Iglar meets the sage; the DM portrays his voice with an extended final vowel in every sentence, which gets more pronounced with every word he speaks.
Ralth: “You need a job?”
Dian: I wanna turn this campaign into Suikoden, we’re gonna have this huge cast - we’re gonna collect all these personalities you’ve put together, random people who have no bearing on the actual quest. “Hey we need a cook! Hey we need a chef! Hey we need someone to scrape and pull the weeds out of the castle walls!”
Iglar introduces himself properly, then leaves, as the sage bids him a good day.
Dian: How did Lurch get a job in the mages’ guild?
Ralth: “You raaaaaaaaaaang?”
Dian: “I’m casting a speeellllllll. Magic Missilllllllllle.”
DM: Use the noose, and Lurch shows up and kills all the aliens on the screen. Good old Fester’s Quest, what the fuck was up with that?
Ralth: What a weird game…
Dian: Let’s just take this license and go apeshit with it.
The night finally does pass. The next mornings, their maid answers a knock at the door.
Sargassas: You hear a scream. “Damn I liked her.”
One Sir Derrik of Na’vis is here to see them. Iglar tells Kelly to bring her to the front room. The game goes on hold as the PCs frantically dig up their map of the house to determine if they do, indeed, have a front room, and if they’re eating in the dining room or the breakfast nook. They decide the living room is the best place to greet the gentleman. Iglar plops down on the couch, with Khoriane on “Iglar’s brain” duty.
Iglar: Iglar is nipping at a long strip of bacon.
DM: Bacon by the Foot!
Dian: He’s just got a big roll of, like, gyro meat.
Iglar: There’s like a little fire that cooks it as it comes out…
DM: There’s just a pig on a spit, and it’s unraveling into bacon.
Sargassas: He’s invented Bacon Roll-Ups.
Ralth: No, we should market Bacon by the Foot, like the old gum tube things.
DM: That’s a really good idea!
Dian: Don’t pork me, pork a Pork Pop!
Ralth: The sexual connotations of that makes it terrible!
DM: (singing) “Pork a Pork Pop, pork it for flavor!”
Dian: Save some for later!
The group laughs itself to literal tears. The DM takes a little while to get his bearing back before he can continue. After he succeeds, Kelly escorts in the paladin. He is here to escort them to testify before two members of the Grand Council of the Adventurers’ Guild. While the party gears up, they chat with Sir Derrik, who drops in passing that a temple of Tiamat has gained more prominence in the temple district.
DM: (to Ralth) They accuse YOU of opening the temple unless you can prove it was someone else who did it!
Ralth: God DAMMIT!
Sargassas: That’d be funny, if every time we were home they came by to arrest him for something else. “Halflings have invaded this town and THAT guy started it!”
DM: You were DWH.
Dian engages in actual serious roleplay, which the DM ruins by apparently choking on his own tongue. Iglar questions why the temple must be allowed, and receives explanations of the Guild and the neutral overgod, Ao. After assuring themselves that Babies-on-Spikes Day is not openly celebrated at the temple, they file this information away for future use.
Dian: “Shall we follow you, then?”
DM: “I have a carriage waiting for us.”
Dian: “Shall we accompany you then?”
Iglar: “How civil!”
Dian: “It must be a very large carriage.”
DM: “It is. Capable of holding, oddly enough, six. It’s fortunate I didn’t plan for seven as it doesn’t seem that there is another one of you.”
Iglar: Haaa haa haaa.
DM: (yelling at a random direction) TAKE THAT ALEC!
Dian: Where HAS he gotten off to?
DM: He flaked out, as we all expected.
Dian: No, I mean the character.
DM: Oh. He flaked out. He helped you off and then wandered back to the Adventurers’ Guild. Doing his meditations… saying “hello”,
Dian: He’s in the Adventurers’ Women’s Magazine Photo Spread
Iglar: He’s trying to purify himself after Iglar showed him his nudie magazines.
Sargassas: Is that what that pile is, in the corner?
Iglar: What?
Sargassas: Of your room.
Iglar: There-there’s not enough -
DM: Well, they weren’t in a pile when you came back, they were stacked and sorted…
Ralth: Uh-oh!
Sargassas: No no no, SHE found them.
Dian: She?
Khoriane: Kelly found them.
DM: It’s not exactly like they were well-hidden.
Iglar: There is no pile of rags in my room!
DM: You’ve got like the nudie mag money bin, you swim through it…
Iglar: (pointing to his room on the map) There’s no pile of ANYthing here.
Ralth: (casually leans over and takes the map to draw on it. The group collapses.)
DM: Ahh, maps!
Dian: Who would have associated such mirth with cartography?
The carriage takes them to the guild. Iglar nitpicks the DM’s choice of words. They head up the stairs into a tower they’d never been in before. The DM lays on the flavor text, from portraits and opulence to even rugs made from wool from celestial sheep. Ralth casually mimes rolling up a rug and carrying it off.
Ralth: “I came in with this.”
DM: You lift up the rug only to find the moaning of the damned souls that forge the floor. “Heeelp us, heeeeelp us!” Unfortunately they level-drain on contact, you all feel your numbers going down…
Sargassas: Do I transform into human if I go below my ECL?
DM: No!
Iglar: (out of the blue) A succubus.
Dian: Mm, hey!
DM: What are you looking up?! Iglar’s wish list?!
The game goofs around a bit while they wait for Khoriane to get back from wherever she wandered off to. They banter and ramble for a bit. The DM tells Ralth to roll a d20 to see how many pieces the guild rips him into for stealing the rug. Suddenly a kitty appears! (Out of game.) Apparently the new roommate in the game-house brought a pair of kitties in. The entire rest of the game is spent in a state of half-distraction as the kitties are sought out and loved on. Khoriane finally returns. The group then reaches the top of the tower, and then enter into a large room with a massive round table.
DM: Across from you: to the left is a beholder -
Sargassas: Fuck!
DM: Though its center eye is milky white the other ones seem to be quite perceptive. Indeed, looking closer you can see hints of a scar, beginning up here and ending down here, over the eye. On the other side of the table is a massive winged humanoid that seems sheathed in a divine light that makes you feel calm, almost peaceful, in its presence.
A pause.
Iglar: Whoa.
Dian: Whaddya call those? Celestials?
DM: The winged figure speaks, although you think the voice itself has an undercurrent of deep Gregorian chanting and solemn bells. “Sit or stand as you prefer.”
Iglar: Iglar will stand! He sets down his axe and gets ready to listen…
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Come here kitty! Come here kitty!
In keeping with this momentous occasion, Sargassas tells a tale of being scared by the cat. Dian sits, discovering these chairs are morphic, becoming the most comfortable chair he’s ever sat on.
Ralth: Great, as soon as I sit on one, it goes meeeeeh! (making a rising gesture) A little thing comes out in front -- (making a tying gesture) -- high chair with a bib, what the fuck?
Sargassas: Better yet, he sits one one, the armrests come up, little seals hold his arms down and a hat appears as they get ready to execute you instantly.
Ralth: (misses all this, distracted by a kitty)
Iglar: Iglar is gonna set down his axe near the wall and the have a seat in one of the awesome chairs, figuring he might not get another chance for a while.
DM: Each one of the beholder’s topmost eyes is regarding one of you individually.
Dian: That’s CREEPY!
The beholder speaks with a harsh, raspy voice, demanding that they speak of the kingdom, and informing them that their words will be tested for veracity. Dian attempts to fast-forward through the explanation, which fails. He attempts to scene-wipe through the explanation, which fails.
DM: This is going to be one of those scenes that changes depending on who’s telling it. Like Ralth’s, everything around is just very very tall.
Ralth: That’s right.
DM: Iglar’s is crayon. Sargassas, everyone who’s humanoid is just replaced by, like, a turkey or a hamburger…
Sargassas: “I was entering this very delicious-looking city, and then we went to this place that had rotting meat and it was very nasty.”
Sargassas as usual gets roped into telling the story, primarily since everyone but Dian is distracted by the kitty. He forgets entirely why they were sent back to the human kingdom, so Iglar jumps in and editorializes a bit against said human kingdom.
Iglar: They were quite honorable to us, in fact - besting their champion I was rewarded with several fascinating art objects, including this prized silver horn.
Sargassas: THE HORN OF THE DAMNED! IT’S THE HORN OF THE DAMNED!
Dian: The beholder turns you to stone!
DM: No, he disintegrates you.
Iglar: “These creatures seem always honorable and it would cause me great anguish to see them fall to a well-trained army. Well, perhaps they could defend themselves…”
Dian: (prompting) It would be a useless loss of life.
Iglar: “Yes, it would be a useless loss of life or whatever.”
Sargassas: Technically they’re undead!
Dian: I don’t see what the human kingdom is getting out of this aside from a chance at plunder.
Iglar: “Yes, the human kingdom perhaps just merely wants to plunder the ancient city.”
DM: The deva speaks. “Vexian said you knew the name of this city, can you confirm it?”
Dian: CAN we confirm it?
Ralth: It was burglar my nurglar shurglar.
Iglar: I seem to have forgotten to write down the name of this city. Does Iglar remember the name?
DM: Apparently not. (a pause) It was the Kingdom of Coden, I’ve only told you guys this like ten times so far.
The players whine a bit and the DM bitches about their inability to remember.
Dian: I’m gonna cut you out a piece of paper and do an asterisk on it, and whenever there’s something we should be writing down for later, just hold it up, and we’ll be like, “Oh, write this down.”
The PCs realize they have no real note page and appoint Iglar to do it.
Dian: “Is the name of the kingdom of import?”
DM: (beholder) “Much of what you have described is in keeping with our knowledge of the kingdom. The Watching Wyrm was long their gatekeeper on that end of the mountains. Their penchant for trial by combat or ideal to determine truth or guilt is also recorded. It seems that these are indeed either the people of the kingdom, or very good facsimiles.” (stroking his chin)
Dian: Did the beholder just stroke its chin?!
DM: The beholder adopts an expression as if it would stroke its chin, but it doesn’t have any hands!
Ralth: The eyestalks come around and bwooooooop!
Dian: “Hey, I need another shave!”
Sargassas: They make some servants come out and start to stroke him.
DM: Out of context, that’s the worse line of the night!
Ralth: So was the hand gesture.
Sargassas: “Aaah, it’s so big!”
DM: This is what happens when you wash out of the Adventurers’ Guild! You get the beholder-stroking job. Take a note of that. Your punishment is the beholder-stroking job.
Sargassas: “This is worse than death!”
DM: Exactly. (discovering Khoriane has wandered off again) Khori’s just not going to be here for the rest of the game…
Khoriane: What?
A weird noise appears in the background. No one knows what it is, but it’s not a cat. They inexplicably decide it’s helium and start talking funny. The DM attempts to restore order.
DM: The celestial speaks. (pausing, then singing One-Winged Angel, badly)
Sargassas: I speak Celestial, so I understand perfectly what it’s saying.
DM: No, it’s speaking in Common, so you do anyway.
Sargassas: Oh.
DM: “So it is your opinion that these undead are peaceful.”
Iglar: “Aye, it is our opinion and their word!”
Ralth: “Their intentions definitely seem to be that way.”
Sargassas: Oh never mind, I don’t speak Celestial.
DM: “Do you believe their intentions will last?”
Ralth: “Only time will tell.”
Iglar: “What reason do they have? It seems they’re confined to this cave by the power of the dragon that created them.”
Sargassas: “This powers couldsss run out, buts one cannot be sure… Even if it does they will remain in their little hollowed-out kingdom.”
Iglar: “Yes, they have no need for agriculture or farming or hunting, what cause would they have to venture from their city.”
DM: “There is own being who would see their power expand. One being who could perhaps grant them respite from the boundaries that plague them-“
Dian: (interrupting the freaking celestial) “God of the undead?”
DM: “Precisely. I do not know if your people know of this in the halfling land.”
Khoriane: I think I actually know him…
Sargassas: 23!
Dian: Chattel’la.
DM: Yes, your studies have taught you of this, as well as your time in the human land.
Sargassas: “Sssuch an outcomes-“ Do I know that he’s somebody who’s bent on the destruction of life?
DM: This is what you know. (handing him a printout)
Sargassas reads. The others monkey about till he’s done.
Iglar: “So you’re saying that, should they gain worship of this god, he will drive them through his or her power to the conquest of the lands of the living?”
Sargassas: “Like anys peoples, land and power are things that everyone needs. They expand and create more undead of themselves, they have an entire kingdom that perhaps they has not woken up yet. When their kingdom expands perhaps they will have to go into the woods. The woods fill… but that is an outcome that is many years from now. It might never happen. Hardsss to say.”
DM: “It is also true that no god will have them save the Lady of Undeath.”
Sargassas: “Only she will accept their worship and like any human they seek a higher calling.”
DM: The beholder chuckles a little.
Sargassas: “Okay, not EVERYbody wants to seek a higher calling, some believe they already the higher.”
DM: (beholder) “It is a very rare creature that can put aside the base instincts of its kind for the greater advancement of itself and its kind. I think you’ll find that most of these risen undead are not so… great. It is also almost certain that soon they will find their gods have rejected them. They will be forced to turn to solance in the only goddess that will have them, and then… never have the undead walked in such concentrated strength as they do now, in this kingdom, from everything you have described. Who knows what the Lady of Undeath’s plans will be?”
Sargassas: “If that’s power was to grow, undeads that can use weapons and magic would be formidable foes for any kingdom.”
Iglar: “Well can’t we beat her to the game, then and show them the path to… knowledge, and trade, and all the things we enjoy here.”
DM: “They knew these things once, they were a kingdom if you’ll recall.”
Iglar: “Yes, so why not know them again, and perhaps next time they will not turn to her. For if they perceive that they are threatened by the outside world, than surely their destiny is sealed.”
DM: (deva voice) “They ARE threatened by the outside world.”
Sargassas: “Their existence threatens all, whether they realize it or not.”
Dian: “What would you do then?”
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Easy there, kitty…
DM: “That is why we are interrogating you, to determine what course of action must be taken. We wish to do nothing hastily-“
Sargassas: (totally distracted by the kitty clawing the furniture) Die, couch! 2d6 damage, slicing damage!
Dian: You still have a bite this round, use the bite!
DM: “We do not wish to annihilate thinking beings out-of-hand-“ (beholder voice) “Speak for yourself!” (celestial voice) “I was speaking for myself, as a member of this Council, and therefore one with equal say to you as to what we shall do!” The beholder just rolls all eight of its eyestalks simultaneously. (Still the celestial voice) “Your information and your opinions are valued, for you are the only ones who have dealt with them.”
Sargassas: “They showed honor when we were there.”
Dian: “Preemptive hostile action would be uncivilized.”
Sargassas: “Though it might have been self-preservation. The annihilation of our party might have sent more explorers. Maybe that’s why we were alloweds to live.”
DM: “Hmm, you may simply have been the first as well to have discovered where they came from. After all, we received no other requests for the services of the Guild before the mission you were sent on.” (beholder voice) “Do you want to return there?”
Sargassas: “I’s don’t. HE does.” (pointing to Iglar) “He wants to warns them of the kingdom that may attack them soon. I’s on the other hand must speak as a cleric, and undeath is not natural.”
DM: “Not in the least, but many things are not natural in this world…”
Sargassas: “The power of the gods is.”
Iglar: Iglar will accept their opinions, but a warrior must have his, and that is: Honorable creatures who fight honorably should be treated as such and not dismissed as shambling piles of bones bent on world conquest.
Dian: “However, if they are forced to turn to the goddess of undeath, their choices will be forced…”
Sargassas: “And thus the second boat trip has begun.” The teleporter room is broken, you gotta take a boooat!
Dian: “The only civil thing you can do is to warn them if they were to seek the goddess of death’s protection.”
Sargassas: “It’s too bad they’ve already done it, we’re walking in to a trap.”
DM: “It’s a trap!”
Dian: “Well I wasn’t volunteering US for it, we were just there! It’s some other adventuring party’s turn!”
DM: “I’ll be blunt. We’re willing to offer you a job to go back there and investigate the situation as it stands now. It’s not an official outside request but we’ll even pay you for it… out of the kindness of our hearts.” This time it’s the angel’s turn to roll its eyes. “Information is of course the most valued thing we can possess! However, you are wise to think it might be dangerous! The nature of the gods is to know what concerns them. Even now it is likely that the goddess of undeath is making moves into this kingdom!”
Sargassas: “They’s been around for a while. Our presence would not have brought her, someone else would’ve had to. The question is, why has she not made a move yet?”
Dian: (sidelong to Iglar) Well at least you’ve already discovered you can defeat their champion… That’s probably the worst they can throw at us.
Sargassas: “Maybe she has.
DM: The celestial speaks. “You speak wisely but there is one matter you haven’t considered. The death of the dragon which set off this chain of events was detectable to many within the kingdoms. However, it also, as its power sunk into the rock, served as a form of camouflage, preventing those who are not able to see with their eyes from seeing with their spells. It is most likely that now, you have brought word of this out, now people know what is truly going on down there.”
Sargassas: “The Lady of Undeath has ears everywhere. She could be moving as we speak.”
Dian: “Is there a way to dispel this magic?”
Iglar: KELLY!
Sargassas: He thinks she’s the Lady of Undeath! (cracking up)
Iglar: It’s always the most innocent one.
DM: “You found me out!” (making a mask-removing gesture) “NYAH HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA!” (a pause, as the DM considers just how he’d intoned that voice) “HEEEE-MAAAAN! I’ll have your head!”
Khoriane: Kael’thas Sunstrider!
Sargassas: “Your basement was merely a setback!”
Iglar: Iglar speaks up a little and says, “The first part is to gather information, this I understand. However are we also to offer some alternative to them to worshipping the Lady of Undeath? Can we offer them assurance of peace, or…”
DM: (laughing, in the beholder voice, then coughing and clearing his throat) “That was very cute, thank you. There can be no promise of peace, unless you can negotiate it yourself. But good luck with that.”
Dian: “No peaaaace. They’re like locusts!” (A pause) “With He-Man out of the way, Eternia will be mine!” (another pause, and then he turns back to the game) So we’re going to back and do recon when we just got BACK from doing recon.
Sargassas: “It seems that Iglar gotss his wisssssh.”
Dian: “What sort of information would you be seeking?”
DM: (celestial voice) “You don’t have to take this job. We have others we could send as well.”
Dian: “But what sort of information would you require that we haven’t, other than us staying there long-term?”
DM: (beholder voice) “Well, now that you know the situation there with respect to the goddess of undeath and so forth-“
Sargassas: He wants us to go in and murder them all, that’s fifty thousand experience just waiting to be had!
DM: “We need to understand what movements she’s been making. Now that you know what to look for perhaps you can find out more.”
Ralth: Twenty more sessions in the undead city, let’s go.
Dian: Oh, you thought you weren’t going to fight undead this campaign? “We notice you’ve come back to the undead kingdom with lots of blunt weaponry that you did not possess the first go-round.”
Ralth: “Uhhhh, mere coincidence.”
Dian: “We traded in all that loot you gave Iglar for weapons!”
DM: The Watching Wyrm lets out a hiss as you try to pass, the guardian speaks. “WHY DOEST THOU POSSESS SO MANY WEAPONS OF UNDEAD-SLAYING? I NOTE THE ENCHANTMENTS ARE QUITE POTENT!”
Dian: How are we gonna get past the Wyrm this time? It’s gonna, you know, the game’s gonna be up before we even get down the stairs.
Sargassas: Well, they said the wyrm was broken, maybe they don’t believe it half the time.
Dian: We’re gonna have to break the Wyrm ourselves!
Iglar: No, the point of our mission is to see what agents the Lady of Undeath has sent, we’re not harboring any ill-intent towards the city - certainly I am not, I don’t know about the rest of you!
Sargassas: “I’s been a cleric of the light, it is my job! You’re asking me to not do my job. My job is to cleanse the world of the undeath, is my job!”
Dian: “What about dispelling the magic of the dead dragon?”
DM: (celestial voice) “That would probably be perceived as hostile.”
Dian: “But is it possible?”
DM: “Almost certainly. Very few magics exist that cannot be dispelled.”
Sargassas: “It matters not anymores, our task it to gather information, that is all.”
Iglar: “We could choose another quest, I suppose.”
Dian: If we don’t do it now, he is REALLY going to bite us in the balls with it later.
Sargassas: “We are going to CONSTANTLY hear about him going, ‘We should have done the quest of the undead. Waah waah waah.’”
Dian: Of course, if we decide to pursue the undead thing the whole religious unrest is going to be a full inferno when we come back…
DM: Look, let me lay it out to you straight. There are like four or five plot threads out there, there’s only one group of you guys-
Dian: WHO’S THE DOPPELGANGER?
DM: (points at Ralth)
Sargassas: It was obvious!
Ralth: “I’m found out!” (runs)
Dian: Outside of the room so the beholder doesn’t take it as an insult or whatever-
DM: You’re not outside of the room yet!
Iglar: No we’re not, Iglar has one more question. “Wise council, what of these weapons, the blade we found there with the dragon?”
Dian: Oh yeah, forgot about that. Eeevil blade.
Sargassas: “The cleric has the rubbingsss.”
DM: (beholder voice) “We have seen them.”
Iglar: “Is there some other enemy we must be aware of, somebody who slew this dragon, perhaps? Someone we need to watch for…”
DM: “Heh heh, you ask a canny question. Well, let’s see if this changes your answer any. That weapon? Rather an ancient one. Traceable to… the Lady of Undeath’s cleric. Now let me pose a puzzle to you. The dragon you saw-“
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Kitty, your tail’s all kinky!
Sargassas: It’s been that way since birth.
DM: “The dragon you saw in there was performing a ritual to become undead, a dracolich they call it.”
Iglar: “Thus Sir Vexian has told us.”
DM: “Now, what was in it for the Lady of Undeath’s minions, if they were indeed the ones wielding this blade, to stop this dragon from becoming a lich?”
Sargassas: “The dragon was probably trying to take her place.”
DM: “No, ha ha, even a dragon isn’t powerful enough to, even as the undead, toy with a god.”
Sargassas: “I said trying.”
Iglar: “Surely these fellows could not have foreseen the bizarre consequences of his death!”
DM: “Or COULD they?”
Ralth: Dun dun DUNNNN.
Dian: The dragon was duped!
DM: “We really don’t know the circumstance, we only have this knowledge.”
Sargassas: “But that would make the assumption that this was planned by her. If it was she would have been there to reap the rewards!”
DM: (celestial voice) “Perhaps. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps the dagger was planted there. Or used as an attempt to throw off suspicion onto the Lady of Undeath by another faction involved.”
Dian: “But in any event, she stands the most to gain, the way things have played out.”
DM: “She has gained.”
Iglar: “I have no more questions, oh wise Councils. I have run out.”
Sargassas: He runs out…
DM: “Yoink!”
Sargassas: “I am out of questions. HA HA!”
DM: There’s just an Iglar-shaped cloud saying goodbye.
Ralth: “Hello, I must be going.”
Dian: “So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!”
Iglar: “Well I, for one, accept this mission - err, what about you? Err, of course we defer to the Adventurers’ Guild, if there is some other more pressing matter that you suggest we take to…
DM: “You have the option to accept or reject jobs as you see fit. If you do not take this one there will be others.”
Iglar: “Yes, very good, we shall take it. Maybe have a flying carpet to convey us there.”
Sargassas: “I likes how he makes decisions for us again. He continues to do this!”
Iglar: “I’m larger!”
Sargassas: “You are weakest of intelligence! Leader must be smart and wise and charismatic! You not all three!”
DM: “We will allow you a moment to discuss.”
Ralth: And the fights break out.
DM: Roll for initiative!
Sargassas: The moment he says we’ll take the mission, someone rushes in. “The teleporter’s down, you’re gonna have to take a boat!”
DM: To the LANDLOCKED kingdom on the other side of the mountain! “We’ll get there!” KSSSSSSSH!
Sargassas: Roll strength checks!
DM: All you have to do is ride on the boat and get a well-timed server down, and you’re in the mountains!
Iglar: Well, Iglar says, “Well I say we should go!”
Sargassas: I think you should talk in third person, because that was great. “Iglar says!”
DM: That’s ALL he does, is talk in third person when he’s describing what Iglar’s doing.
Iglar: I usually try, that’s what I prefer to do these days.
Sargassas: “I would have liked to see these other missions. But if my compatriots really want to visit the undead city again, I would like to prepare a lot of food.”
Dian: Tell you what, let’s look at the bounty board first, but I’m for going back.
Iglar: “Yes, what other missions ARE there?”
DM: “Vexian would know. He IS your patron.”
Sargassas: Let’s see if Vexian wants us to go back there.
Ralth: Seek out other avenues before making a decision?
The scene abruptly shifts to Vexian’s cave as the players almost FORCE the game down there as effectively as if they’d grabbed the camera. Vexian is there, though oddly they see a massive bookshelf in the background.
Sargassas: You can’t have that many attacks in one round, kitty.
Iglar: “Vexian, sir, are you here?”
DM: “I see you survived your encounter with the Guild Council. Congratulations.”
Iglar: “Is that unusual? Why is that so strange?”
DM: “Which ones did you meet anyway?”
Khoriane: (somehow NOT distracted) “The beholder and the deva.”
DM: “Ha ha ha! Ha!” (a pause) “Good work.”
Ralth: “Time to eat you all.”
DM: “So what can I do for you?”
Khoriane: “We were wondering what other jobs beyond going back to the kingdom of undead were…”
DM: “Oh, I can think of two off the top of you, that would be suited for yourselves, or at least ones I’ve been presented with to offer you.”
Khoriane: “We’re curious.”
DM: “Would you like the easy, easy one…? Or the more difficult one?”
Dian: “Let’s hear both. Lowest to highest.”
Sargassas: “Easiest first, then hardest.”
DM: “Well, it seems that recently in a kingdom some distance to the east of here-“
Sargassas: The Haberdasher’s Guild is in an uprising!
DM: “There was a young boy-king who was quite impressed by a motley menagerie that came through, speaking of heroic deeds and dragon-slaying and undead city-finding. He’s very interested in speaking with them, learning from them, generally hanging out with adventurers as is the whim of the king.”
Iglar: “Waaaait, wait wait, the same kingdom which was planning to declare war on my friends, the kingdom of undead? So this is the one that had a sort of a magistrate in place of a king, right?”
Dian: “Regent.”
Iglar: “Regent, yes.”
DM: “That’s what they call it when someone is taking responsibility for the kingdom when the king is underaged.”
Dian: “Rather dangerous sort of thing for royalty to be doing. Is that something the magistrate approves of?”
DM: “Human youths were never particularly known for their wisdom.”
Dian: “Agreed! But then we would responsible for his safety.”
DM: “Oh yes, absolutely. I don’t imagine any actual adventuring.”
Iglar: “Well, perhaps if we could take him to the kingdom of undead he could see that they mean no harm.”
Sargassas: “Oh my gods, Iglar.”
DM: Sargassas literally overheats and has to go soak himself in a swamp.
Sargassas: “Are you plannings on getting the guild in trouble by acting very foolishly as we attempt to guide this king?”
Iglar: (attempts to cover Sargassas’s mouth)
DM: You’ve got a bite attack, don’t you?
Sargassas: Yes, and I’m about to use it!
Dian: If we take the easy job then we can complete two quests at once…
Sargassas: “We cannot risk this child-king coming with us. It would start an international incident.”
DM: You notice that Vexian has put his head under one wing and is noticeably shaking.
Iglar: “Why, sir, may I ask - have we said something foolish?”
Sargassas: “Is he touching himself? Leave him alone”!
Iglar: “Have we said something foolish, sir?”
DM: There’s a long pause. Finally he gets himself back under control, brings his head back out. “The - the other mission, um. There’s been some trouble in some of the northern colonies. I should say northwestern colonies… one you’re familiar with, in fact.”
Sargassas: Oh no. The port city. You’re always causing us to go back to places we’ve been before…
Dian: (openly draws a blank)
Sargassas: No, the port city, remember, with the little guys
Dian: Oh yeah, the city with the little fucking - fucking Fauntelroy halfling. Yeah! We’re not going on no boat.
DM: “No, no, the teleporting will be provided for you. You proved your worth as members of the Adventurers’ Guild, so…”
Dian: “What sort of trouble were you referring to?”
Iglar: “Yes, what sort of trouble-“
Dian: Is that why he was laughing at us?!
DM: No, he was laughing at you for the idea of taking on two jobs at once and taking the boy-king to the undead kingdom. The Watching Wyrm just… (miming the swallowing of a child whole) “Cool! Aaah, acid!”
Sargassas: No, if he had been there last time and the chloroform dragon was there, no, he would’ve been dead. No, that’s a bad idea.
Iglar: We’re gambling on his ability, he can hang out.
Sargassas: That would be a BAD id - “BAD idea! Iglar, you need to stop with the thinking, okay? Your stats does not good thinking! Sees? The stat? Your stat does not support thinking!”
Iglar: Yes, and this is exactly how Iglar acts. Thinking’s not his strong suit, but intuition!
Dian: “So in any case…”
DM: “The city over there has long… Well, to describe the situation, the halflings tolerate its presence provided a certain… ‘renumerance’ is made to them. In other words we bribe them to ignore it. However, lately, the bribes don’t seem to be working.”
Dian: Greedy bastards!
DM: “The presence of airships and other… what do you call it…?”
Iglar: “Weapons of war!”
DM: “Automagicka, that’s the term, has been growing on the borders. The jungle up there, much of it, or at least a large path through it, has been clearcut in a single night. We are hoping to determine what their plans are.”
Dian: “How long can such a job wait?”
Sargassas: “Can wes get an oasis here, soon, maybe like a pool I can sit in while you talk? It hot here, hot, dry, not good for skin!”
DM: “I hadn’t considered that, you make a good point. I’ll make a note of it for the future.”
Sargassas: “Thank yous.”
DM: “In any case, those are the three jobs, including the investigate-the-undead-kingdom, that wait for you.”
Iglar: “Sir, I don’t quite understand the second… joooooob.”
The other players mock Iglar’s odd extension of the word for a moment.
Sargassas: ”What’s not to understand? We scout, we find out what they planning-“
Iglar: “Not that one, the boy-king!”
Dian: I wanna save that one for later, so I can be a higher-level when I meet that halfling again.
Sargassas: “No, that’s the first job!”
Iglar: “The first job, whatever. I counted the undead as the first job. In any case so what are we supposed to do with this boy, hang out with him?”
Sargassas: “Yes!”
DM: “Yes, in so many words. Tell him stories, do adventurey things for him. I assume he’ll want you to do things like hide in plain sight for him, or punch out his captain of the guard, shoot arcane blasts or whatnot…”
Dian: I’m supposed to dislike this dragon, but I’m liking him more and more each time we come down here.
DM: Good, his evil plans are I MEAN HI! “Nyeh heh heh! And soon I’ll tie Khori to the railroad tracks! That Dian Do-Right can’t stop me now!”
Dian: “Well we’ll see about THAT, Vexian!”
DM: “Do-Right! How did you escape?!”
Sargassas: And the rest of us are just watching this whole thing like… (Stares, slack-jawed and wide-eyed) “Whats madness IS this?”
DM: “Inspector, Inspector, I caught Vexian Whiplash!” “That’s not Vexian, Do-Right, that’s a pole.”
Iglar: Okay, this has gone too far.
Dian: Well, what are we going to do? I vote for potentially doing the two quests in one.
Sargassas: “No, I don’t likes this idea of taking the boy-king anywhere outside the kingdom. Look, if the king dies, not only do both missions fail…”
Iglar: “The more I hear about that child-king the less I like that quest.”
Dian: “But you want us to go back to the undead kingdom.”
Iglar: “Yes!”
Sargassas: We can do the boy-king and then go out to the undead kingdom, and this is your opportunity to talk to the boy-king and explain to him, and then maybe he can convince his regent otherwise, and why I’m giving you these ideas is beyond me.
Iglar: “Vexian, do you think the boy-king has any influence at all on that kingdom, or does the magistrate, regent as you call him, hold all the power?”
DM: ”To be frank I have no idea. The study of politics in human kingdoms is not my particular area of expertise.”
Sargassas: “I study politics of lizardman. Lizardman - strongest lizardman lead other lizardman, that how it works. This is not me drink cup.” (setting down the cup he’d just picked up)
DM: Peanut shells and wax.
Sargassas: No, just dice.
Iglar: “Well as much as I want to go and sink an airship, my honor compels me to go to the undead kingdom. However, I will abide by the decision of the party!”
Sargassas: “Yeah right.”
Iglar: “Honest!”
Sargassas: “No matter what we say, you find some way to knock out teleporter person and we end up in place that you want to go.”
Iglar: “Not true.”
Sargassas: “Wants to take bets on that?”
DM: You guys are like, "Bring back the railroading, we can’t handle choice!”
Dian: Does everyone have weapons for smiting undead?
Khoriane: Yeeees.
Sargassas: “I’s not care what but I like ideas of destroying airship. And then we get second opportunity to have sinking airship drink, me likes sinking airship drink…”
Dian: (out of nowhere) Ah, Deck of Many Things. “I wish there was no Tiamat.”
DM: You know, if you did that, the response would be, “You wish there is no Tiamat. You get your wish. There is now only Ultra-Tiamat.”
Sargassas: Cool! Who’s in league with Ultimate Cthulhu.
Dian: “I’m for going back as well.”
Sargassas: “Is now two votes to one, wheres you want to go, you twos?” I have a feeling we might as well just go to the undead and do the boy-king thing, and end our adventure right there with the boy-king’s death, since they want so heard to do this.
Khoriane: “I don’t wanna take the child king anywhere near the undead kingdom.”
DM: “You can’t do both at once anyway. One takes you to one kingdom, one takes you to the other. If you take one we’ll have to send someone else to the other.”
Iglar: “I see, yes, send somebody else to amuse the lad.”
Sargassas: He’s like, “Well, too bad, that quest is worth 40,000 experience. With bonus experience possible based on the stories you tell.” (a pause) “It seems that we are bound to go to the undead city.” Two votes undead, one vote not undead…
Khoriane: I voted like Iglar and Dian did…
Dian: Dust of Sneezing?!
Sargassas: “It does not matter what - we use this democratic things that you humans - that those humans use all the times…”
DM: Use your Charisma and throw out a few Displomacy checks to change their minds! Iglar rolls an Intimidate check on you. “We are going to the undead!” “Yes, sirs!”
Sargassas: No, I’d be like… bite. Omp.
Dian: He’s thinking of turning you into a lizard on a stick, just so you know.
Sargassas: “I have tasted Iglar’s flesh, and I HUNGER… for MOOOOOOOORE!”
DM: Wow, taken out of context…
Ralth: Iglar’s like, “When?” “Your sleeeeeeeep.”
Having at last decided, the party has free time. Many of them turn to purchasing magic items. Khoriane fawns over a kitty. In the midst of all this, Dian threatens Sargassas over his loan. Sargassas can’t pay? That’s not his problem!
DM: I’ll give you something that’s your problem: Dire Leeches!
Dian: Ewwwww.
DM: One of them’s attached to your chest.
Dian: Hiya! (punches the air in front of his chest)
DM: Oh, it has damage reducation.
Dian: All right, I’ll take a sai and PRY it off.
DM: Ah, it has pry reduction.
Dian: No it doesn’t.
DM: Yes it does, it’s a Dire Leech.
Dian: No it doesn’t!
Sargassas: I can remove that Dire Leech for, uh…
DM: It doesn’t have pull reduction.
Dian: Pull reduction?
DM: Yes.
Dian: (mimes pulling the Dire Leech off)
DM: You pull the Dire Leech off. The anticoagulants it has spurted into your bloodstream are still taking effect. Blood gushes out!
Dian: Where’d the leeches come from again?
DM: Fuck you.
Sargassas: I heal him.
DM: No, I’m sorry, the anticoagulant resists healing spells. It’s magical anticoagulant.
Dian: Ahh, I’ve gone to that big place in the sky where Alec is.
DM: Alec’s basement?
The DM wanders off to pet the kitty as the party continues to shop. Iglar buys half-plate armor and a “crystal of sleeping in it” while Dian and Sargassas raid the Magic Item Compendium. The DM returns, reporting that he’d only gotten the kitty to swat the d20 twice, but it had rolled a 17 and a 19. Sargassas complains that they’re going to go back to the forest and immediately run into the mother dragon. The game report transcriber is thankful for this long period of preparation and not-roleplaying, being painfully aware of what is coming up in this report later. Iglar wanders off to fetch the cat, but winds up with an axe, somehow, which he also feels like stroking. The DM forces the game to resume before the group flees in horror. Cheltonbourne rolls awesomely on cooking for them again and they all sleep well. Ralth hits Cheltonbourne up for rations, which he provides in quality that makes lembas look like dog crap. It has nougat. The group heads to the teleport, has a teleport destination taken from Sargassas’s mind, and are sent off to their old camp (where they harassed a mountain lion, if you recall). The DM calls for Reflex saving throws from everyone but Khoriane.
Sargassas: A what-flavored throw?
DM: Reflex, your favorite.
Sargassas: 18.
DM: All right, you all succeed. You all appear in your old campsite atop a mound of bones. They shift and begin to quiver underneath your weight but you all manage to hop out without falling on your ass.
Sargassas: Huh.
Ralth: What?
Sargassas: “Dids I eat many a goat and people before wes left?”
Dian: What bones are they?
DM: Human.
Dian: Oh.
Sargassas determines the bones are very old. The party believes they have been dragged here by someone else. No one can track, but Ralth searches for tracks he can at least observe. With a 25, he determines many of these tracks seem to be the bones walking there under their own power - as well as clawed feet and a tail, from a creature larger than a bear. Khoriane fails a Spot check.
DM: You all are surprised when you hear a shrill voice calling at you from the top of the outdropping where you last saw the mountain lions. “Hey, live ones! Okay live ones, you know the drill, drop it all and then get the hell outta here!”
Sargassas: Oh my god.
Dian: “Drop it all?”
DM: “Yep!”
Dian: “You mean like, drop our bones?”
DM: “Naw, naw, naw, the goods, the goods! The treasure! The weapons! The armor!”
Iglar: “I’ll drop something!” (dropping his pants to moon the creature, though how this works in half-plate is not discussed)
DM: “Hey, what’s kind of disrespect is this?!”
Iglar: “HAR HAR HAR you said drop it!”
Dian: “What would you say if we were dead ones?”
DM: “The same thing except you could get outta here or not as you please, it doesn’t really matter. Now! Drop the dancer! Haste! Vamoose!”
Iglar: “You sound small!”
Khoriane: What is he?
DM: A kobold.
Khoriane: I’m pewing it.
Dian: “I’ll take your candlllleeee!”
Khoriane: 17.
DM: You hit!
Sargassas: We need 1900 experience anyway, bring your friends!
DM: The kobold corpse lands in front of you. From around you, you hear “Oh my god, they killed Kiltok!” “You bastards!” “Quick, tell the Master!” “Tell the Master!” “Tell the Master!”
Iglar: Initiative, I presume?
Dian: No, they’re scattering.
Ralth: So we continue on.
Khoriane: blows another Spot checks, and sees none of the fleeing kobolds to pew. Iglar suggests they travel to the top of the cliff, but Sargassas counsels going to the kingdom. Iglar agrees that they’re a distraction and so the party heads to the kingdom, after looting the kobold’s one silver piece. Iglar observes it and determines it’s a clan kobold; there’s probably a tribe in the mountain, mining.
Iglar: Mining, really, I thought they just stole from the dwarves.
DM: That’s dwarven propaganda.
On they head, the respectable distance to the kingdom’s entrance. There’s an odd pause for an a capalla rendition of the chocobo theme. Continued in part 2!
POST TOO LARGE?! POST TOO LARGE?! AAAAAAAAAAH!
With a new microphone that still needs tuning, the audio quality is a bit off this game; the new microphone is SO sensitive it’s picking up everyone and everything like mad. Alec has elected not to show up for this game, the loser, not that this surprises anyone. The game simply proceeds without him - and without the late-arriving Dian, either. We pick up with Iglar deciding not to buy the sword offered to him by Orialla, because it has no plusses.
Iglar: Iglar doesn’t give two cents about history, but he’s not impolite to ladies, so he’s going to say, “I find this a fascinating weapon; however, I’m not in a financial position to invest in the artifacts of this time, unfortunately-“
Saragassas: (muttering, as he leans over) Let me look at your intelligence real quick… (grabbing Iglar’s character sheet) Your intelligence is not high enough to be using those words! “Financial”, that’s way beyond your 10 there, buddy.
Iglar: Okay, “intent”. “I’m sorry, I’m not really into history.”
DM: “Duhhhh, sword good but me not have money.”
Iglar: 10, not 6!
The group returns home. The DM asks if they have any more business, which amounts to watering their plants.
Sargassas: Our house has its own fucking ecosystem, it can support itself!
Iglar: The Arborean waving fronds are waving?
DM: Yes. Your maid evidently was up to the task of caring for these strange and bizarre fauna. Flora.
Iglar: I tip her.
Ralth: Over.
Iglar: That didn’t go quite as planned.
Sargassas: (who still has Iglar’s character sheet) Okay, your Charisma is 11, you won’t try to rape her. If you had a Charisma of 8 I’d be like, uh-oh…
Iglar: Charisma has nothing to do with that! I think that would be Wisdom…
DM: Alignment, thank you.
Sargassas: I thought Charisma was social qualms…
Ralth: Wisdom is whether or not he does it.
Iglar: A low Charisma could just mean personality flaws… like compulsive raping.
DM: There’s a flaw for the books. Guys, this is Dungeons and Dragons, not FATAL, let’s keep it that way.
A long silence.
Iglar: What’s FATAL?
DM: I sense a post on the Facebook page coming up… I can’t encapsulate it in words otherwise. Uh, just don’t read this link at work.
The party sleeps. The DM asks who’s on watch.
Sargassas: Someone made the mistake of sneaking into the basement. We wake up and all the plants have gained, like, 2000 experience.
DM: What snuck in?! It was like some sort of archdemon!
Sargassas: One of the sentient tentacles has a cleric’s hat on. Apparently it shows a class.
DM: Why does this vine have a holy a symbol?
Iglar: Are we ACTUALLY rolling Listen checks?
DM: No!
Ralth: Dammit, I rolled good!
After a brief discussion of the Leadership feat, Iglar abruptly rewinds time to get his booze identified. For this he needs a historian (i.e. sage), and so goes to the guild. Dian finally shows up.
Iglar: “I’m told these are over 500 years old.”
Dian: 500 years old, no wonder it rocked your gut so bad!
Khoriane: Sell no wine before its time…
The DM references the map just to get the players complaining about it again. Iglar meets the sage; the DM portrays his voice with an extended final vowel in every sentence, which gets more pronounced with every word he speaks.
Ralth: “You need a job?”
Dian: I wanna turn this campaign into Suikoden, we’re gonna have this huge cast - we’re gonna collect all these personalities you’ve put together, random people who have no bearing on the actual quest. “Hey we need a cook! Hey we need a chef! Hey we need someone to scrape and pull the weeds out of the castle walls!”
Iglar introduces himself properly, then leaves, as the sage bids him a good day.
Dian: How did Lurch get a job in the mages’ guild?
Ralth: “You raaaaaaaaaaang?”
Dian: “I’m casting a speeellllllll. Magic Missilllllllllle.”
DM: Use the noose, and Lurch shows up and kills all the aliens on the screen. Good old Fester’s Quest, what the fuck was up with that?
Ralth: What a weird game…
Dian: Let’s just take this license and go apeshit with it.
The night finally does pass. The next mornings, their maid answers a knock at the door.
Sargassas: You hear a scream. “Damn I liked her.”
One Sir Derrik of Na’vis is here to see them. Iglar tells Kelly to bring her to the front room. The game goes on hold as the PCs frantically dig up their map of the house to determine if they do, indeed, have a front room, and if they’re eating in the dining room or the breakfast nook. They decide the living room is the best place to greet the gentleman. Iglar plops down on the couch, with Khoriane on “Iglar’s brain” duty.
Iglar: Iglar is nipping at a long strip of bacon.
DM: Bacon by the Foot!
Dian: He’s just got a big roll of, like, gyro meat.
Iglar: There’s like a little fire that cooks it as it comes out…
DM: There’s just a pig on a spit, and it’s unraveling into bacon.
Sargassas: He’s invented Bacon Roll-Ups.
Ralth: No, we should market Bacon by the Foot, like the old gum tube things.
DM: That’s a really good idea!
Dian: Don’t pork me, pork a Pork Pop!
Ralth: The sexual connotations of that makes it terrible!
DM: (singing) “Pork a Pork Pop, pork it for flavor!”
Dian: Save some for later!
The group laughs itself to literal tears. The DM takes a little while to get his bearing back before he can continue. After he succeeds, Kelly escorts in the paladin. He is here to escort them to testify before two members of the Grand Council of the Adventurers’ Guild. While the party gears up, they chat with Sir Derrik, who drops in passing that a temple of Tiamat has gained more prominence in the temple district.
DM: (to Ralth) They accuse YOU of opening the temple unless you can prove it was someone else who did it!
Ralth: God DAMMIT!
Sargassas: That’d be funny, if every time we were home they came by to arrest him for something else. “Halflings have invaded this town and THAT guy started it!”
DM: You were DWH.
Dian engages in actual serious roleplay, which the DM ruins by apparently choking on his own tongue. Iglar questions why the temple must be allowed, and receives explanations of the Guild and the neutral overgod, Ao. After assuring themselves that Babies-on-Spikes Day is not openly celebrated at the temple, they file this information away for future use.
Dian: “Shall we follow you, then?”
DM: “I have a carriage waiting for us.”
Dian: “Shall we accompany you then?”
Iglar: “How civil!”
Dian: “It must be a very large carriage.”
DM: “It is. Capable of holding, oddly enough, six. It’s fortunate I didn’t plan for seven as it doesn’t seem that there is another one of you.”
Iglar: Haaa haa haaa.
DM: (yelling at a random direction) TAKE THAT ALEC!
Dian: Where HAS he gotten off to?
DM: He flaked out, as we all expected.
Dian: No, I mean the character.
DM: Oh. He flaked out. He helped you off and then wandered back to the Adventurers’ Guild. Doing his meditations… saying “hello”,
Dian: He’s in the Adventurers’ Women’s Magazine Photo Spread
Iglar: He’s trying to purify himself after Iglar showed him his nudie magazines.
Sargassas: Is that what that pile is, in the corner?
Iglar: What?
Sargassas: Of your room.
Iglar: There-there’s not enough -
DM: Well, they weren’t in a pile when you came back, they were stacked and sorted…
Ralth: Uh-oh!
Sargassas: No no no, SHE found them.
Dian: She?
Khoriane: Kelly found them.
DM: It’s not exactly like they were well-hidden.
Iglar: There is no pile of rags in my room!
DM: You’ve got like the nudie mag money bin, you swim through it…
Iglar: (pointing to his room on the map) There’s no pile of ANYthing here.
Ralth: (casually leans over and takes the map to draw on it. The group collapses.)
DM: Ahh, maps!
Dian: Who would have associated such mirth with cartography?
The carriage takes them to the guild. Iglar nitpicks the DM’s choice of words. They head up the stairs into a tower they’d never been in before. The DM lays on the flavor text, from portraits and opulence to even rugs made from wool from celestial sheep. Ralth casually mimes rolling up a rug and carrying it off.
Ralth: “I came in with this.”
DM: You lift up the rug only to find the moaning of the damned souls that forge the floor. “Heeelp us, heeeeelp us!” Unfortunately they level-drain on contact, you all feel your numbers going down…
Sargassas: Do I transform into human if I go below my ECL?
DM: No!
Iglar: (out of the blue) A succubus.
Dian: Mm, hey!
DM: What are you looking up?! Iglar’s wish list?!
The game goofs around a bit while they wait for Khoriane to get back from wherever she wandered off to. They banter and ramble for a bit. The DM tells Ralth to roll a d20 to see how many pieces the guild rips him into for stealing the rug. Suddenly a kitty appears! (Out of game.) Apparently the new roommate in the game-house brought a pair of kitties in. The entire rest of the game is spent in a state of half-distraction as the kitties are sought out and loved on. Khoriane finally returns. The group then reaches the top of the tower, and then enter into a large room with a massive round table.
DM: Across from you: to the left is a beholder -
Sargassas: Fuck!
DM: Though its center eye is milky white the other ones seem to be quite perceptive. Indeed, looking closer you can see hints of a scar, beginning up here and ending down here, over the eye. On the other side of the table is a massive winged humanoid that seems sheathed in a divine light that makes you feel calm, almost peaceful, in its presence.
A pause.
Iglar: Whoa.
Dian: Whaddya call those? Celestials?
DM: The winged figure speaks, although you think the voice itself has an undercurrent of deep Gregorian chanting and solemn bells. “Sit or stand as you prefer.”
Iglar: Iglar will stand! He sets down his axe and gets ready to listen…
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Come here kitty! Come here kitty!
In keeping with this momentous occasion, Sargassas tells a tale of being scared by the cat. Dian sits, discovering these chairs are morphic, becoming the most comfortable chair he’s ever sat on.
Ralth: Great, as soon as I sit on one, it goes meeeeeh! (making a rising gesture) A little thing comes out in front -- (making a tying gesture) -- high chair with a bib, what the fuck?
Sargassas: Better yet, he sits one one, the armrests come up, little seals hold his arms down and a hat appears as they get ready to execute you instantly.
Ralth: (misses all this, distracted by a kitty)
Iglar: Iglar is gonna set down his axe near the wall and the have a seat in one of the awesome chairs, figuring he might not get another chance for a while.
DM: Each one of the beholder’s topmost eyes is regarding one of you individually.
Dian: That’s CREEPY!
The beholder speaks with a harsh, raspy voice, demanding that they speak of the kingdom, and informing them that their words will be tested for veracity. Dian attempts to fast-forward through the explanation, which fails. He attempts to scene-wipe through the explanation, which fails.
DM: This is going to be one of those scenes that changes depending on who’s telling it. Like Ralth’s, everything around is just very very tall.
Ralth: That’s right.
DM: Iglar’s is crayon. Sargassas, everyone who’s humanoid is just replaced by, like, a turkey or a hamburger…
Sargassas: “I was entering this very delicious-looking city, and then we went to this place that had rotting meat and it was very nasty.”
Sargassas as usual gets roped into telling the story, primarily since everyone but Dian is distracted by the kitty. He forgets entirely why they were sent back to the human kingdom, so Iglar jumps in and editorializes a bit against said human kingdom.
Iglar: They were quite honorable to us, in fact - besting their champion I was rewarded with several fascinating art objects, including this prized silver horn.
Sargassas: THE HORN OF THE DAMNED! IT’S THE HORN OF THE DAMNED!
Dian: The beholder turns you to stone!
DM: No, he disintegrates you.
Iglar: “These creatures seem always honorable and it would cause me great anguish to see them fall to a well-trained army. Well, perhaps they could defend themselves…”
Dian: (prompting) It would be a useless loss of life.
Iglar: “Yes, it would be a useless loss of life or whatever.”
Sargassas: Technically they’re undead!
Dian: I don’t see what the human kingdom is getting out of this aside from a chance at plunder.
Iglar: “Yes, the human kingdom perhaps just merely wants to plunder the ancient city.”
DM: The deva speaks. “Vexian said you knew the name of this city, can you confirm it?”
Dian: CAN we confirm it?
Ralth: It was burglar my nurglar shurglar.
Iglar: I seem to have forgotten to write down the name of this city. Does Iglar remember the name?
DM: Apparently not. (a pause) It was the Kingdom of Coden, I’ve only told you guys this like ten times so far.
The players whine a bit and the DM bitches about their inability to remember.
Dian: I’m gonna cut you out a piece of paper and do an asterisk on it, and whenever there’s something we should be writing down for later, just hold it up, and we’ll be like, “Oh, write this down.”
The PCs realize they have no real note page and appoint Iglar to do it.
Dian: “Is the name of the kingdom of import?”
DM: (beholder) “Much of what you have described is in keeping with our knowledge of the kingdom. The Watching Wyrm was long their gatekeeper on that end of the mountains. Their penchant for trial by combat or ideal to determine truth or guilt is also recorded. It seems that these are indeed either the people of the kingdom, or very good facsimiles.” (stroking his chin)
Dian: Did the beholder just stroke its chin?!
DM: The beholder adopts an expression as if it would stroke its chin, but it doesn’t have any hands!
Ralth: The eyestalks come around and bwooooooop!
Dian: “Hey, I need another shave!”
Sargassas: They make some servants come out and start to stroke him.
DM: Out of context, that’s the worse line of the night!
Ralth: So was the hand gesture.
Sargassas: “Aaah, it’s so big!”
DM: This is what happens when you wash out of the Adventurers’ Guild! You get the beholder-stroking job. Take a note of that. Your punishment is the beholder-stroking job.
Sargassas: “This is worse than death!”
DM: Exactly. (discovering Khoriane has wandered off again) Khori’s just not going to be here for the rest of the game…
Khoriane: What?
A weird noise appears in the background. No one knows what it is, but it’s not a cat. They inexplicably decide it’s helium and start talking funny. The DM attempts to restore order.
DM: The celestial speaks. (pausing, then singing One-Winged Angel, badly)
Sargassas: I speak Celestial, so I understand perfectly what it’s saying.
DM: No, it’s speaking in Common, so you do anyway.
Sargassas: Oh.
DM: “So it is your opinion that these undead are peaceful.”
Iglar: “Aye, it is our opinion and their word!”
Ralth: “Their intentions definitely seem to be that way.”
Sargassas: Oh never mind, I don’t speak Celestial.
DM: “Do you believe their intentions will last?”
Ralth: “Only time will tell.”
Iglar: “What reason do they have? It seems they’re confined to this cave by the power of the dragon that created them.”
Sargassas: “This powers couldsss run out, buts one cannot be sure… Even if it does they will remain in their little hollowed-out kingdom.”
Iglar: “Yes, they have no need for agriculture or farming or hunting, what cause would they have to venture from their city.”
DM: “There is own being who would see their power expand. One being who could perhaps grant them respite from the boundaries that plague them-“
Dian: (interrupting the freaking celestial) “God of the undead?”
DM: “Precisely. I do not know if your people know of this in the halfling land.”
Khoriane: I think I actually know him…
Sargassas: 23!
Dian: Chattel’la.
DM: Yes, your studies have taught you of this, as well as your time in the human land.
Sargassas: “Sssuch an outcomes-“ Do I know that he’s somebody who’s bent on the destruction of life?
DM: This is what you know. (handing him a printout)
Sargassas reads. The others monkey about till he’s done.
Iglar: “So you’re saying that, should they gain worship of this god, he will drive them through his or her power to the conquest of the lands of the living?”
Sargassas: “Like anys peoples, land and power are things that everyone needs. They expand and create more undead of themselves, they have an entire kingdom that perhaps they has not woken up yet. When their kingdom expands perhaps they will have to go into the woods. The woods fill… but that is an outcome that is many years from now. It might never happen. Hardsss to say.”
DM: “It is also true that no god will have them save the Lady of Undeath.”
Sargassas: “Only she will accept their worship and like any human they seek a higher calling.”
DM: The beholder chuckles a little.
Sargassas: “Okay, not EVERYbody wants to seek a higher calling, some believe they already the higher.”
DM: (beholder) “It is a very rare creature that can put aside the base instincts of its kind for the greater advancement of itself and its kind. I think you’ll find that most of these risen undead are not so… great. It is also almost certain that soon they will find their gods have rejected them. They will be forced to turn to solance in the only goddess that will have them, and then… never have the undead walked in such concentrated strength as they do now, in this kingdom, from everything you have described. Who knows what the Lady of Undeath’s plans will be?”
Sargassas: “If that’s power was to grow, undeads that can use weapons and magic would be formidable foes for any kingdom.”
Iglar: “Well can’t we beat her to the game, then and show them the path to… knowledge, and trade, and all the things we enjoy here.”
DM: “They knew these things once, they were a kingdom if you’ll recall.”
Iglar: “Yes, so why not know them again, and perhaps next time they will not turn to her. For if they perceive that they are threatened by the outside world, than surely their destiny is sealed.”
DM: (deva voice) “They ARE threatened by the outside world.”
Sargassas: “Their existence threatens all, whether they realize it or not.”
Dian: “What would you do then?”
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Easy there, kitty…
DM: “That is why we are interrogating you, to determine what course of action must be taken. We wish to do nothing hastily-“
Sargassas: (totally distracted by the kitty clawing the furniture) Die, couch! 2d6 damage, slicing damage!
Dian: You still have a bite this round, use the bite!
DM: “We do not wish to annihilate thinking beings out-of-hand-“ (beholder voice) “Speak for yourself!” (celestial voice) “I was speaking for myself, as a member of this Council, and therefore one with equal say to you as to what we shall do!” The beholder just rolls all eight of its eyestalks simultaneously. (Still the celestial voice) “Your information and your opinions are valued, for you are the only ones who have dealt with them.”
Sargassas: “They showed honor when we were there.”
Dian: “Preemptive hostile action would be uncivilized.”
Sargassas: “Though it might have been self-preservation. The annihilation of our party might have sent more explorers. Maybe that’s why we were alloweds to live.”
DM: “Hmm, you may simply have been the first as well to have discovered where they came from. After all, we received no other requests for the services of the Guild before the mission you were sent on.” (beholder voice) “Do you want to return there?”
Sargassas: “I’s don’t. HE does.” (pointing to Iglar) “He wants to warns them of the kingdom that may attack them soon. I’s on the other hand must speak as a cleric, and undeath is not natural.”
DM: “Not in the least, but many things are not natural in this world…”
Sargassas: “The power of the gods is.”
Iglar: Iglar will accept their opinions, but a warrior must have his, and that is: Honorable creatures who fight honorably should be treated as such and not dismissed as shambling piles of bones bent on world conquest.
Dian: “However, if they are forced to turn to the goddess of undeath, their choices will be forced…”
Sargassas: “And thus the second boat trip has begun.” The teleporter room is broken, you gotta take a boooat!
Dian: “The only civil thing you can do is to warn them if they were to seek the goddess of death’s protection.”
Sargassas: “It’s too bad they’ve already done it, we’re walking in to a trap.”
DM: “It’s a trap!”
Dian: “Well I wasn’t volunteering US for it, we were just there! It’s some other adventuring party’s turn!”
DM: “I’ll be blunt. We’re willing to offer you a job to go back there and investigate the situation as it stands now. It’s not an official outside request but we’ll even pay you for it… out of the kindness of our hearts.” This time it’s the angel’s turn to roll its eyes. “Information is of course the most valued thing we can possess! However, you are wise to think it might be dangerous! The nature of the gods is to know what concerns them. Even now it is likely that the goddess of undeath is making moves into this kingdom!”
Sargassas: “They’s been around for a while. Our presence would not have brought her, someone else would’ve had to. The question is, why has she not made a move yet?”
Dian: (sidelong to Iglar) Well at least you’ve already discovered you can defeat their champion… That’s probably the worst they can throw at us.
Sargassas: “Maybe she has.
DM: The celestial speaks. “You speak wisely but there is one matter you haven’t considered. The death of the dragon which set off this chain of events was detectable to many within the kingdoms. However, it also, as its power sunk into the rock, served as a form of camouflage, preventing those who are not able to see with their eyes from seeing with their spells. It is most likely that now, you have brought word of this out, now people know what is truly going on down there.”
Sargassas: “The Lady of Undeath has ears everywhere. She could be moving as we speak.”
Dian: “Is there a way to dispel this magic?”
Iglar: KELLY!
Sargassas: He thinks she’s the Lady of Undeath! (cracking up)
Iglar: It’s always the most innocent one.
DM: “You found me out!” (making a mask-removing gesture) “NYAH HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA HNYA!” (a pause, as the DM considers just how he’d intoned that voice) “HEEEE-MAAAAN! I’ll have your head!”
Khoriane: Kael’thas Sunstrider!
Sargassas: “Your basement was merely a setback!”
Iglar: Iglar speaks up a little and says, “The first part is to gather information, this I understand. However are we also to offer some alternative to them to worshipping the Lady of Undeath? Can we offer them assurance of peace, or…”
DM: (laughing, in the beholder voice, then coughing and clearing his throat) “That was very cute, thank you. There can be no promise of peace, unless you can negotiate it yourself. But good luck with that.”
Dian: “No peaaaace. They’re like locusts!” (A pause) “With He-Man out of the way, Eternia will be mine!” (another pause, and then he turns back to the game) So we’re going to back and do recon when we just got BACK from doing recon.
Sargassas: “It seems that Iglar gotss his wisssssh.”
Dian: “What sort of information would you be seeking?”
DM: (celestial voice) “You don’t have to take this job. We have others we could send as well.”
Dian: “But what sort of information would you require that we haven’t, other than us staying there long-term?”
DM: (beholder voice) “Well, now that you know the situation there with respect to the goddess of undeath and so forth-“
Sargassas: He wants us to go in and murder them all, that’s fifty thousand experience just waiting to be had!
DM: “We need to understand what movements she’s been making. Now that you know what to look for perhaps you can find out more.”
Ralth: Twenty more sessions in the undead city, let’s go.
Dian: Oh, you thought you weren’t going to fight undead this campaign? “We notice you’ve come back to the undead kingdom with lots of blunt weaponry that you did not possess the first go-round.”
Ralth: “Uhhhh, mere coincidence.”
Dian: “We traded in all that loot you gave Iglar for weapons!”
DM: The Watching Wyrm lets out a hiss as you try to pass, the guardian speaks. “WHY DOEST THOU POSSESS SO MANY WEAPONS OF UNDEAD-SLAYING? I NOTE THE ENCHANTMENTS ARE QUITE POTENT!”
Dian: How are we gonna get past the Wyrm this time? It’s gonna, you know, the game’s gonna be up before we even get down the stairs.
Sargassas: Well, they said the wyrm was broken, maybe they don’t believe it half the time.
Dian: We’re gonna have to break the Wyrm ourselves!
Iglar: No, the point of our mission is to see what agents the Lady of Undeath has sent, we’re not harboring any ill-intent towards the city - certainly I am not, I don’t know about the rest of you!
Sargassas: “I’s been a cleric of the light, it is my job! You’re asking me to not do my job. My job is to cleanse the world of the undeath, is my job!”
Dian: “What about dispelling the magic of the dead dragon?”
DM: (celestial voice) “That would probably be perceived as hostile.”
Dian: “But is it possible?”
DM: “Almost certainly. Very few magics exist that cannot be dispelled.”
Sargassas: “It matters not anymores, our task it to gather information, that is all.”
Iglar: “We could choose another quest, I suppose.”
Dian: If we don’t do it now, he is REALLY going to bite us in the balls with it later.
Sargassas: “We are going to CONSTANTLY hear about him going, ‘We should have done the quest of the undead. Waah waah waah.’”
Dian: Of course, if we decide to pursue the undead thing the whole religious unrest is going to be a full inferno when we come back…
DM: Look, let me lay it out to you straight. There are like four or five plot threads out there, there’s only one group of you guys-
Dian: WHO’S THE DOPPELGANGER?
DM: (points at Ralth)
Sargassas: It was obvious!
Ralth: “I’m found out!” (runs)
Dian: Outside of the room so the beholder doesn’t take it as an insult or whatever-
DM: You’re not outside of the room yet!
Iglar: No we’re not, Iglar has one more question. “Wise council, what of these weapons, the blade we found there with the dragon?”
Dian: Oh yeah, forgot about that. Eeevil blade.
Sargassas: “The cleric has the rubbingsss.”
DM: (beholder voice) “We have seen them.”
Iglar: “Is there some other enemy we must be aware of, somebody who slew this dragon, perhaps? Someone we need to watch for…”
DM: “Heh heh, you ask a canny question. Well, let’s see if this changes your answer any. That weapon? Rather an ancient one. Traceable to… the Lady of Undeath’s cleric. Now let me pose a puzzle to you. The dragon you saw-“
Khoriane: (totally distracted) Kitty, your tail’s all kinky!
Sargassas: It’s been that way since birth.
DM: “The dragon you saw in there was performing a ritual to become undead, a dracolich they call it.”
Iglar: “Thus Sir Vexian has told us.”
DM: “Now, what was in it for the Lady of Undeath’s minions, if they were indeed the ones wielding this blade, to stop this dragon from becoming a lich?”
Sargassas: “The dragon was probably trying to take her place.”
DM: “No, ha ha, even a dragon isn’t powerful enough to, even as the undead, toy with a god.”
Sargassas: “I said trying.”
Iglar: “Surely these fellows could not have foreseen the bizarre consequences of his death!”
DM: “Or COULD they?”
Ralth: Dun dun DUNNNN.
Dian: The dragon was duped!
DM: “We really don’t know the circumstance, we only have this knowledge.”
Sargassas: “But that would make the assumption that this was planned by her. If it was she would have been there to reap the rewards!”
DM: (celestial voice) “Perhaps. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps the dagger was planted there. Or used as an attempt to throw off suspicion onto the Lady of Undeath by another faction involved.”
Dian: “But in any event, she stands the most to gain, the way things have played out.”
DM: “She has gained.”
Iglar: “I have no more questions, oh wise Councils. I have run out.”
Sargassas: He runs out…
DM: “Yoink!”
Sargassas: “I am out of questions. HA HA!”
DM: There’s just an Iglar-shaped cloud saying goodbye.
Ralth: “Hello, I must be going.”
Dian: “So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!”
Iglar: “Well I, for one, accept this mission - err, what about you? Err, of course we defer to the Adventurers’ Guild, if there is some other more pressing matter that you suggest we take to…
DM: “You have the option to accept or reject jobs as you see fit. If you do not take this one there will be others.”
Iglar: “Yes, very good, we shall take it. Maybe have a flying carpet to convey us there.”
Sargassas: “I likes how he makes decisions for us again. He continues to do this!”
Iglar: “I’m larger!”
Sargassas: “You are weakest of intelligence! Leader must be smart and wise and charismatic! You not all three!”
DM: “We will allow you a moment to discuss.”
Ralth: And the fights break out.
DM: Roll for initiative!
Sargassas: The moment he says we’ll take the mission, someone rushes in. “The teleporter’s down, you’re gonna have to take a boat!”
DM: To the LANDLOCKED kingdom on the other side of the mountain! “We’ll get there!” KSSSSSSSH!
Sargassas: Roll strength checks!
DM: All you have to do is ride on the boat and get a well-timed server down, and you’re in the mountains!
Iglar: Well, Iglar says, “Well I say we should go!”
Sargassas: I think you should talk in third person, because that was great. “Iglar says!”
DM: That’s ALL he does, is talk in third person when he’s describing what Iglar’s doing.
Iglar: I usually try, that’s what I prefer to do these days.
Sargassas: “I would have liked to see these other missions. But if my compatriots really want to visit the undead city again, I would like to prepare a lot of food.”
Dian: Tell you what, let’s look at the bounty board first, but I’m for going back.
Iglar: “Yes, what other missions ARE there?”
DM: “Vexian would know. He IS your patron.”
Sargassas: Let’s see if Vexian wants us to go back there.
Ralth: Seek out other avenues before making a decision?
The scene abruptly shifts to Vexian’s cave as the players almost FORCE the game down there as effectively as if they’d grabbed the camera. Vexian is there, though oddly they see a massive bookshelf in the background.
Sargassas: You can’t have that many attacks in one round, kitty.
Iglar: “Vexian, sir, are you here?”
DM: “I see you survived your encounter with the Guild Council. Congratulations.”
Iglar: “Is that unusual? Why is that so strange?”
DM: “Which ones did you meet anyway?”
Khoriane: (somehow NOT distracted) “The beholder and the deva.”
DM: “Ha ha ha! Ha!” (a pause) “Good work.”
Ralth: “Time to eat you all.”
DM: “So what can I do for you?”
Khoriane: “We were wondering what other jobs beyond going back to the kingdom of undead were…”
DM: “Oh, I can think of two off the top of you, that would be suited for yourselves, or at least ones I’ve been presented with to offer you.”
Khoriane: “We’re curious.”
DM: “Would you like the easy, easy one…? Or the more difficult one?”
Dian: “Let’s hear both. Lowest to highest.”
Sargassas: “Easiest first, then hardest.”
DM: “Well, it seems that recently in a kingdom some distance to the east of here-“
Sargassas: The Haberdasher’s Guild is in an uprising!
DM: “There was a young boy-king who was quite impressed by a motley menagerie that came through, speaking of heroic deeds and dragon-slaying and undead city-finding. He’s very interested in speaking with them, learning from them, generally hanging out with adventurers as is the whim of the king.”
Iglar: “Waaaait, wait wait, the same kingdom which was planning to declare war on my friends, the kingdom of undead? So this is the one that had a sort of a magistrate in place of a king, right?”
Dian: “Regent.”
Iglar: “Regent, yes.”
DM: “That’s what they call it when someone is taking responsibility for the kingdom when the king is underaged.”
Dian: “Rather dangerous sort of thing for royalty to be doing. Is that something the magistrate approves of?”
DM: “Human youths were never particularly known for their wisdom.”
Dian: “Agreed! But then we would responsible for his safety.”
DM: “Oh yes, absolutely. I don’t imagine any actual adventuring.”
Iglar: “Well, perhaps if we could take him to the kingdom of undead he could see that they mean no harm.”
Sargassas: “Oh my gods, Iglar.”
DM: Sargassas literally overheats and has to go soak himself in a swamp.
Sargassas: “Are you plannings on getting the guild in trouble by acting very foolishly as we attempt to guide this king?”
Iglar: (attempts to cover Sargassas’s mouth)
DM: You’ve got a bite attack, don’t you?
Sargassas: Yes, and I’m about to use it!
Dian: If we take the easy job then we can complete two quests at once…
Sargassas: “We cannot risk this child-king coming with us. It would start an international incident.”
DM: You notice that Vexian has put his head under one wing and is noticeably shaking.
Iglar: “Why, sir, may I ask - have we said something foolish?”
Sargassas: “Is he touching himself? Leave him alone”!
Iglar: “Have we said something foolish, sir?”
DM: There’s a long pause. Finally he gets himself back under control, brings his head back out. “The - the other mission, um. There’s been some trouble in some of the northern colonies. I should say northwestern colonies… one you’re familiar with, in fact.”
Sargassas: Oh no. The port city. You’re always causing us to go back to places we’ve been before…
Dian: (openly draws a blank)
Sargassas: No, the port city, remember, with the little guys
Dian: Oh yeah, the city with the little fucking - fucking Fauntelroy halfling. Yeah! We’re not going on no boat.
DM: “No, no, the teleporting will be provided for you. You proved your worth as members of the Adventurers’ Guild, so…”
Dian: “What sort of trouble were you referring to?”
Iglar: “Yes, what sort of trouble-“
Dian: Is that why he was laughing at us?!
DM: No, he was laughing at you for the idea of taking on two jobs at once and taking the boy-king to the undead kingdom. The Watching Wyrm just… (miming the swallowing of a child whole) “Cool! Aaah, acid!”
Sargassas: No, if he had been there last time and the chloroform dragon was there, no, he would’ve been dead. No, that’s a bad idea.
Iglar: We’re gambling on his ability, he can hang out.
Sargassas: That would be a BAD id - “BAD idea! Iglar, you need to stop with the thinking, okay? Your stats does not good thinking! Sees? The stat? Your stat does not support thinking!”
Iglar: Yes, and this is exactly how Iglar acts. Thinking’s not his strong suit, but intuition!
Dian: “So in any case…”
DM: “The city over there has long… Well, to describe the situation, the halflings tolerate its presence provided a certain… ‘renumerance’ is made to them. In other words we bribe them to ignore it. However, lately, the bribes don’t seem to be working.”
Dian: Greedy bastards!
DM: “The presence of airships and other… what do you call it…?”
Iglar: “Weapons of war!”
DM: “Automagicka, that’s the term, has been growing on the borders. The jungle up there, much of it, or at least a large path through it, has been clearcut in a single night. We are hoping to determine what their plans are.”
Dian: “How long can such a job wait?”
Sargassas: “Can wes get an oasis here, soon, maybe like a pool I can sit in while you talk? It hot here, hot, dry, not good for skin!”
DM: “I hadn’t considered that, you make a good point. I’ll make a note of it for the future.”
Sargassas: “Thank yous.”
DM: “In any case, those are the three jobs, including the investigate-the-undead-kingdom, that wait for you.”
Iglar: “Sir, I don’t quite understand the second… joooooob.”
The other players mock Iglar’s odd extension of the word for a moment.
Sargassas: ”What’s not to understand? We scout, we find out what they planning-“
Iglar: “Not that one, the boy-king!”
Dian: I wanna save that one for later, so I can be a higher-level when I meet that halfling again.
Sargassas: “No, that’s the first job!”
Iglar: “The first job, whatever. I counted the undead as the first job. In any case so what are we supposed to do with this boy, hang out with him?”
Sargassas: “Yes!”
DM: “Yes, in so many words. Tell him stories, do adventurey things for him. I assume he’ll want you to do things like hide in plain sight for him, or punch out his captain of the guard, shoot arcane blasts or whatnot…”
Dian: I’m supposed to dislike this dragon, but I’m liking him more and more each time we come down here.
DM: Good, his evil plans are I MEAN HI! “Nyeh heh heh! And soon I’ll tie Khori to the railroad tracks! That Dian Do-Right can’t stop me now!”
Dian: “Well we’ll see about THAT, Vexian!”
DM: “Do-Right! How did you escape?!”
Sargassas: And the rest of us are just watching this whole thing like… (Stares, slack-jawed and wide-eyed) “Whats madness IS this?”
DM: “Inspector, Inspector, I caught Vexian Whiplash!” “That’s not Vexian, Do-Right, that’s a pole.”
Iglar: Okay, this has gone too far.
Dian: Well, what are we going to do? I vote for potentially doing the two quests in one.
Sargassas: “No, I don’t likes this idea of taking the boy-king anywhere outside the kingdom. Look, if the king dies, not only do both missions fail…”
Iglar: “The more I hear about that child-king the less I like that quest.”
Dian: “But you want us to go back to the undead kingdom.”
Iglar: “Yes!”
Sargassas: We can do the boy-king and then go out to the undead kingdom, and this is your opportunity to talk to the boy-king and explain to him, and then maybe he can convince his regent otherwise, and why I’m giving you these ideas is beyond me.
Iglar: “Vexian, do you think the boy-king has any influence at all on that kingdom, or does the magistrate, regent as you call him, hold all the power?”
DM: ”To be frank I have no idea. The study of politics in human kingdoms is not my particular area of expertise.”
Sargassas: “I study politics of lizardman. Lizardman - strongest lizardman lead other lizardman, that how it works. This is not me drink cup.” (setting down the cup he’d just picked up)
DM: Peanut shells and wax.
Sargassas: No, just dice.
Iglar: “Well as much as I want to go and sink an airship, my honor compels me to go to the undead kingdom. However, I will abide by the decision of the party!”
Sargassas: “Yeah right.”
Iglar: “Honest!”
Sargassas: “No matter what we say, you find some way to knock out teleporter person and we end up in place that you want to go.”
Iglar: “Not true.”
Sargassas: “Wants to take bets on that?”
DM: You guys are like, "Bring back the railroading, we can’t handle choice!”
Dian: Does everyone have weapons for smiting undead?
Khoriane: Yeeees.
Sargassas: “I’s not care what but I like ideas of destroying airship. And then we get second opportunity to have sinking airship drink, me likes sinking airship drink…”
Dian: (out of nowhere) Ah, Deck of Many Things. “I wish there was no Tiamat.”
DM: You know, if you did that, the response would be, “You wish there is no Tiamat. You get your wish. There is now only Ultra-Tiamat.”
Sargassas: Cool! Who’s in league with Ultimate Cthulhu.
Dian: “I’m for going back as well.”
Sargassas: “Is now two votes to one, wheres you want to go, you twos?” I have a feeling we might as well just go to the undead and do the boy-king thing, and end our adventure right there with the boy-king’s death, since they want so heard to do this.
Khoriane: “I don’t wanna take the child king anywhere near the undead kingdom.”
DM: “You can’t do both at once anyway. One takes you to one kingdom, one takes you to the other. If you take one we’ll have to send someone else to the other.”
Iglar: “I see, yes, send somebody else to amuse the lad.”
Sargassas: He’s like, “Well, too bad, that quest is worth 40,000 experience. With bonus experience possible based on the stories you tell.” (a pause) “It seems that we are bound to go to the undead city.” Two votes undead, one vote not undead…
Khoriane: I voted like Iglar and Dian did…
Dian: Dust of Sneezing?!
Sargassas: “It does not matter what - we use this democratic things that you humans - that those humans use all the times…”
DM: Use your Charisma and throw out a few Displomacy checks to change their minds! Iglar rolls an Intimidate check on you. “We are going to the undead!” “Yes, sirs!”
Sargassas: No, I’d be like… bite. Omp.
Dian: He’s thinking of turning you into a lizard on a stick, just so you know.
Sargassas: “I have tasted Iglar’s flesh, and I HUNGER… for MOOOOOOOORE!”
DM: Wow, taken out of context…
Ralth: Iglar’s like, “When?” “Your sleeeeeeeep.”
Having at last decided, the party has free time. Many of them turn to purchasing magic items. Khoriane fawns over a kitty. In the midst of all this, Dian threatens Sargassas over his loan. Sargassas can’t pay? That’s not his problem!
DM: I’ll give you something that’s your problem: Dire Leeches!
Dian: Ewwwww.
DM: One of them’s attached to your chest.
Dian: Hiya! (punches the air in front of his chest)
DM: Oh, it has damage reducation.
Dian: All right, I’ll take a sai and PRY it off.
DM: Ah, it has pry reduction.
Dian: No it doesn’t.
DM: Yes it does, it’s a Dire Leech.
Dian: No it doesn’t!
Sargassas: I can remove that Dire Leech for, uh…
DM: It doesn’t have pull reduction.
Dian: Pull reduction?
DM: Yes.
Dian: (mimes pulling the Dire Leech off)
DM: You pull the Dire Leech off. The anticoagulants it has spurted into your bloodstream are still taking effect. Blood gushes out!
Dian: Where’d the leeches come from again?
DM: Fuck you.
Sargassas: I heal him.
DM: No, I’m sorry, the anticoagulant resists healing spells. It’s magical anticoagulant.
Dian: Ahh, I’ve gone to that big place in the sky where Alec is.
DM: Alec’s basement?
The DM wanders off to pet the kitty as the party continues to shop. Iglar buys half-plate armor and a “crystal of sleeping in it” while Dian and Sargassas raid the Magic Item Compendium. The DM returns, reporting that he’d only gotten the kitty to swat the d20 twice, but it had rolled a 17 and a 19. Sargassas complains that they’re going to go back to the forest and immediately run into the mother dragon. The game report transcriber is thankful for this long period of preparation and not-roleplaying, being painfully aware of what is coming up in this report later. Iglar wanders off to fetch the cat, but winds up with an axe, somehow, which he also feels like stroking. The DM forces the game to resume before the group flees in horror. Cheltonbourne rolls awesomely on cooking for them again and they all sleep well. Ralth hits Cheltonbourne up for rations, which he provides in quality that makes lembas look like dog crap. It has nougat. The group heads to the teleport, has a teleport destination taken from Sargassas’s mind, and are sent off to their old camp (where they harassed a mountain lion, if you recall). The DM calls for Reflex saving throws from everyone but Khoriane.
Sargassas: A what-flavored throw?
DM: Reflex, your favorite.
Sargassas: 18.
DM: All right, you all succeed. You all appear in your old campsite atop a mound of bones. They shift and begin to quiver underneath your weight but you all manage to hop out without falling on your ass.
Sargassas: Huh.
Ralth: What?
Sargassas: “Dids I eat many a goat and people before wes left?”
Dian: What bones are they?
DM: Human.
Dian: Oh.
Sargassas determines the bones are very old. The party believes they have been dragged here by someone else. No one can track, but Ralth searches for tracks he can at least observe. With a 25, he determines many of these tracks seem to be the bones walking there under their own power - as well as clawed feet and a tail, from a creature larger than a bear. Khoriane fails a Spot check.
DM: You all are surprised when you hear a shrill voice calling at you from the top of the outdropping where you last saw the mountain lions. “Hey, live ones! Okay live ones, you know the drill, drop it all and then get the hell outta here!”
Sargassas: Oh my god.
Dian: “Drop it all?”
DM: “Yep!”
Dian: “You mean like, drop our bones?”
DM: “Naw, naw, naw, the goods, the goods! The treasure! The weapons! The armor!”
Iglar: “I’ll drop something!” (dropping his pants to moon the creature, though how this works in half-plate is not discussed)
DM: “Hey, what’s kind of disrespect is this?!”
Iglar: “HAR HAR HAR you said drop it!”
Dian: “What would you say if we were dead ones?”
DM: “The same thing except you could get outta here or not as you please, it doesn’t really matter. Now! Drop the dancer! Haste! Vamoose!”
Iglar: “You sound small!”
Khoriane: What is he?
DM: A kobold.
Khoriane: I’m pewing it.
Dian: “I’ll take your candlllleeee!”
Khoriane: 17.
DM: You hit!
Sargassas: We need 1900 experience anyway, bring your friends!
DM: The kobold corpse lands in front of you. From around you, you hear “Oh my god, they killed Kiltok!” “You bastards!” “Quick, tell the Master!” “Tell the Master!” “Tell the Master!”
Iglar: Initiative, I presume?
Dian: No, they’re scattering.
Ralth: So we continue on.
Khoriane: blows another Spot checks, and sees none of the fleeing kobolds to pew. Iglar suggests they travel to the top of the cliff, but Sargassas counsels going to the kingdom. Iglar agrees that they’re a distraction and so the party heads to the kingdom, after looting the kobold’s one silver piece. Iglar observes it and determines it’s a clan kobold; there’s probably a tribe in the mountain, mining.
Iglar: Mining, really, I thought they just stole from the dwarves.
DM: That’s dwarven propaganda.
On they head, the respectable distance to the kingdom’s entrance. There’s an odd pause for an a capalla rendition of the chocobo theme. Continued in part 2!