Campaign Chronicles

Day Five of the Odinsleep; 7 am, (Sunrise) Grotto's vision continues. He moves through the tunnel, drawing ever closer to the mead hall and the brawny thick-bearded Hanseath. The god eyes his disfigured servant for but a moment and takes a deep breath. “I can let ye enter. Ye fought valiantly, died in battle or at least will in the next few seconds. I could send ye back, tell ye that the choice be yours but that it ain't. That be up to yer friends on the battlefield. I will tell ye that ye have more to do, more battles to fight, more tragedies to endure, more love to find, more hell to raise, more life to live. Fear not, my child. Ye will see me soon enough when the Cleft Shield will carry ye home.” Grotto raises his eyes to look upon the face of his god and opens his mouth a question on his lips... Cedron continues to cradle Grotto's broken body. The dwarf's blood soaks into the legs of the priest's trousers and the sleeves of his shirt. Cedron's fi

Oh No! Too late you realize your toddler has found your fully loaded Krup9000, 16 shot, near silenced, semi auto pistol. Sitting at the end of the hall, baby is playing with a lethal weapon. Baby is about to have a lot of fun. The dog was the first victim. - excerpt from the game manual.  The premise to this game is fairly simple: make it down a hallway without getting killed. You are impeded by a pistol-packing infant who will perform two random actions each round (point gun at ceiling, shoot at you, put the gun in its diaper, and so on). Reaching the end of the hallway allows you to disarm the baby. I am not sure how I am going to incorporate this little gem into my ongoing campaign . Maybe it can serve as an Origin Story for a character from Earth-218 . The baby, having taken a life, embarks on either a life of crime or one of peace and justice, eschewing guns and dispatching ne'er-do-wells with nothing more than fists and a plucky attitude. Or maybe it's a cop, wracked w

18th Day of the Month of Sunsebb 573 CY calendar Folggnaw becomes very still as Jamaros turns to address the helmed horrors and a smile spreads slowly across his face, “I am Jamaros Many-Battles, general of the Ghoul King's Army.  I am assuming command.  Execute your prisoner.” The armored figures spring into action immediately, drawing their swords and chopping into the wraith with a great ferocity.  The work is done in a matter of moments. “Lead me to the army.  We have much work to do.” The armored figures move to obey the general's command.  Jamaros' squad of ghouls fall in behind him as they march back out the city gate.  The entourage turns north and stalks off into the caverns.  Miles pass quickly.  The only sound is the echoing clang of the footfalls from the animated suits of armor and the gibbering of the less powerful ghouls under the undead barbarian's command. The towering Nordheimer casts his mind back over the last several days and the unexpected turns hi

 14 Feb 1371 (1828 Grimmlands calendar) Knives, Chronosaj, and the two travelers they rescued from Rapunzel's Tower spend two days walking through the Great and Awful Forest. While the group walks, the adventurers speak with Anna and Kristoff about the events leading to their capture. The kingdom they come from, Arendelle, is threatened by the Southern Isles following the events surrounding the coronation of Anna's sister, Elsa . Anna and Kristoff were sent on a mission to recruit support from Rapunzel, only to discover that she had been killed and her body animated by a colony of spiders. Neither knows precisely how long they had been prisoners but it is likely that several weeks had passed. Finally, the castle of Jack Nimble came into view. It had been several months since either Knives or Chronsaj had laid eyes on the place. Still. they had good reason to expect a warm welcome, given their roles in helping overthrow the Rotten King Humpty Dumpty and his vicious queen

The Giant Slayer, Sir Jack Horner Nimble of the Beanstalk, King of the Grimmlands Jack appears to be a quiet and unassuming fellow. His dark blond hair is shaggy and he has blue eyes. He is unshaven, with at least a three-day growth of beard covering his face and chin. • Note:  This Jack is most of those Jack's. He just hasn't reached the end of his stories yet. Human male Fighter 11/Ranger 3/Rogue 4 CR: 18 Medium Humanoid (Human) HD: 11d10+33 plus 3d8+9 plus 4d6+12 Hp: 145 Init: +4 Spd: 30’ AC: 24 (+4 Dex, Studded Leather +5; Ring of Protection +2); t: 16; ff: 24 Attacks: (BAB +18; Grap +21); +24/+19/+14/+9 Deus Misereatur: 1d8+10 (20/x2, plus 2d6+2 vs Giants) – or – +24/+19/+14/+9 Stalkchopper: 1d6+5 (20/x3) – or – +22/+17/+12/+7 Deus Misereater AND +22 Stalkchopper : 1d8+10 (19-20/x2, plus 2+2 vs giants) AND 1d6+4 (20/x3) SA: Favored Enemy (Giants +2); Sneak Attack +2d6; Combat Style (Two-Weapon Fighting) SQ: Fairy Tale Immortality; Evasion

Day Five of the Odinsleep; 7 am, (Sunrise) “Run.” “Save yourself.” “It's too much. This is too much for mere mortals.” These thoughts race through Cedron's head as thunder and lightning and blood flash before the minstrel's eyes. Something deep within steels his spine and the priest of Malazzarr focuses on the task before him. This is Valhalla, a place of heroes and this is a time for heroics. “For PROGRESS!” Cedron declares as he dives toward the spiked giant, angling toward the fist that is crushing Grotto. Just before impact, the folds of the cape flare outward, enveloping the bard and the badly wounded dwarf before vanishing from sight. Cedron finds himself in a small featureless room, illuminated to the same degree as the ambient light outside. He cradles the dwarf's broken body in his lap. He stares out of an unseen window at the chaos of the ongoing battle. Grotto, for his part, is completely insensible. He finds himself in a long, low tunnel of e

In 1st and 2nd editions of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, only a specific number of druids of 12th level and above were allowed to exist. Advancing into a new level required either a vacancy in the druidic ranks or the defeat of an already-ranked druid with the loser either dying or losing enough experience points to drop back a level. Problem is... this combat doesn't determine who is the Better Druid, just who the Better Duelist is. This doesn't make much sense. Don't get me wrong, a full-on shape-shifting spell-slinging battle between contenders for the title is awesome but it just doesn't have the "feel" I am looking for. I recently came into possession of a game called "Photosynthesis". (I have not played it yet). The object of the game is to grow a forest through the management of resources. I will be proposing that the Druids' Duel actually be (in-story) the tending of a grove. At the table, the players would run through a session of Pho

Day Five of the Odinsleep; 7 am, (Sunrise) Grotto gasps, "Hanseath, guide me." The scarred dwarf feels hot blood pooling in his plate armor as the rest of his body begin to grow cold. He reaches out and grasps the largest spikes piercing his body with one hand and begins to pull, straining with all of his might in am attempt to extricate himself. Cedron snaps his fingers, vanishing his crossbow into the depths of his glove of storing and makes a fist, leveling his Ring toward the pinioned fighter. As the bard concentrates, a blue, translucent beam strikes Grotto in the chest, enveloping him. Cedron makes a pulling motion, as if in a tug-of-war, contributing the magic of the ring, adding to Grotto's efforts. Inch by painful inch, the dwarf is lifted free. Gouts of blood pour from his wounds, his axe nearly falling from pain-numbed fingers. Kysek frowns, not sure what spell would be best to use against his un-living foe. A thought suddenly occurs to him. “Metal; electricity

Recap...  The party arrived in Asgard during the Odinsleep. After meeting Baldur , the group fought alongside Idunn , protecting the Grove of Golden Apples from Loki's Army of Darkness. After two full days of fighting, the group decided to confront Loki himself and cut the head off of the snake as it were. A Valkyrie named Hildr took the adventurers to a cloudy pasture where Shadow was elected the group's leader and won the services of a herd of sliepnirs. The eight-legged horses began flying the troupe toward the Sea of Marmora and the God of Mischief's lair .  Ever alert for trouble, the group soon spied a quartet of spike-armored giant's heading in roughly the same direction. An attempt at communication by Shadow and Cedron resulted in a breath weapon attack that left the dark elf and minstrel's horses paralyzed, causing both to crash. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  Day Five of the Odinsleep; 7am (Sunrise)  Shadow rolls nimbly to his feet, remark