Day ?: But No Pressure
Nicely done. Dave FoO and Renwick board the barge. All eyes turn towards Cinder.
"This game is interesting in that it's like we're really playing Druids. All this summoning creatures and drawing magic- er, mana- from the Land. My magic comes from the body of Jesus. I wonder if you could make a game like that... play Jesus's arm or finger, to let you Cause Light Wounds the other guy." Ron smiles and nods. Vrill snickers. "Let's see here. Sorry I'm taking so long, I've got seven cards. I'll play a mountain." Vrill comes on over to kibbitz.
"Okay, now Lightning Bolt him."
"Huh? No, I can't do that... I can only do it to his creatures."
"No, you're wrong, look, you don't know how to play. Tap your damn mountain, and say 'I Lightning Bolt you for 3'."
"You're pretty quick with those Lightning Bolts, Greg."
"Just do it. Trust me."
"Okay. Marivhon, I Lightning Bolt you for 3."
1. I've come to take a shortcut.
2. Port Fflar by way of an untimely death.
3. To get home.
I give it a desperate mean look and climb aboard.
Dave, Fist of Odin
I've come to stop being dead, from Grito, and I will return to Grito and do some clobbering along the way.
Ornery Dave, Fist of Odin signing 'Hey! Ho!' peas out.
Day ?: Two Outta Five
Marivhvon and Brogg board the ship. Vrill responds poorly to your, uh, 'snuggling'. He frowns in disgust and moves to the other side of the golem's barge.
"Magic?" says Ron. "Well, I cast magic spells from Jesus- is that the same thing?"
You explain that it's close but not quite the same thing.
"A fantasy card game, huh? That's not one of those Satanic role-playing games, is it? Because I don't approve of those," Ron says, completely without irony.
You explain a little more.
"Oh, okay, it's more like poker, uno, or euchre. That's fine. We had a bridge club at my parish for all the senior ladies. Alright, show me this 'Magic the Gathering'... you'll have to give me some of those special cards though."
Vrill opens an eye to watch, and sighs. "Great. You know what's going to happen now, don't you? You're gonna fill up the blog with all sorts of stuff, then like Cinder will log on, not realize he has to answer those dumb questions, say something like 'I pick Brogg's pocket' and not post again for two weeks. Hey Mr. Golem, if we just kill those other guys, can we load their bodies on your boat without them having to answer?" There's no response from the golem.
I've come to rhyme!
An' design lyrics sublime,
To blow your mind!
I represent Grito!
A town up above!
It's where my peeps is at,
An' tha ladies I love!
I'll bust yo chops!
If ya don't step aside!
I gave yo answers Flesh Bot,
Now give me a ride!
"You play magic Ron?
We might have some time here to ourselves."
1 because i followed.
2 back there....(pointing to behind me)
3 get on the boat
I snuggle up with Vrill.
Day ?: To L2
Okay, I smell impatience and boredom. Maybe it's just the end of May and everyone's ornery as tends to happen. The dearth of substantial PC posts is distressing though.
Brogg, you turn the ghouls.
Guys, you head off after Vrill. You look around and someone climbs on a mausoleum and you see a castle off in the distance and you go there and you knock on the door and no one answers and you knock again, still nothing, so you just open the door and go inside and find a stairs down and fight a guardian statue and win and there's a neat kind of underground willow grove and in the middle is another stairs down so you go down and you're in a dark tunnel so you cast Light and it's pretty damp down here there's a spiral staircase going even further with a cool mural and then you're at the bottom at the edge of an underground lake.
It looks pretty far... you can't see over to the other side so swimming is out of the question. But lo, a flesh golem boatman sails a big raft on over, and tells you that to get on the barge and cross, you each have to answer his three questions.
"Why have you come?"
"Where have you come from?"
"What will you do?"
Vrill whispers his answers to the boatman, gets on the barge, and begins to nap. Ron Ball says "Um, I've come to help out my friends and to find Jesus. I've come from... from Indiana. And I plan on following the lord our god Jesus until he walks amongst us again." Ron gets on the barge.
So... no further plot advancement 'til everyone's posted with their answers. Everyone.
uh I read the tour guide and uh worked 2 days for it and well shit. Does it have anything useful to say about this supposed connection to terminal b? Vrill doesn't leave my sight.
I turn the ghouls. BR:13.
Actually, I don't even need to roll. They are an automatic Turn.
Or is this another gaggle of unturnable undead? Because I am getting pretty sick of those kinds of undead.
I have no idea what we are doing. -I don't think any of us do.
Can we go back to a previous Save Game? How about before we tried to save Grito from those unturnable undead?
Seriously, this module should be called, G2:Ass-Fucked Sideways by a Needleman.
I follow Vrill.
Day ?: The Real Time Ghouls Of Terminal L
Your new pal Gregory Vrill seems to have ADHD.
"Wait a sec. That
was the sum total of yesterday's adventuring?! Renwick wakes up to curse? God, do your players like live in caves or something? Haven't they heard of the frickin' Internet? cnn.com? boingboing? Where do your guys get their news and stuff? Christ on a crutch, I was fricking dead
, with a 2400 bps modem at the Coffee Chateau, and I posted more than some of you idi... some of you guys."
Vrill looks over at Ron, who's also standing motionless, slack-jawed. "Well now that doesn't even make any sense at all."
Some Real-Time Ghouls walk on over and investigate the party.
"Real-Time Ghouls? Screw this, I'm outta here. Meet you guys at Lord Blackula's Castle." Vrill takes off. The ghouls prepare for combat, there are three of them.
Don't you fucking realize, We're all fucking Dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
I wipe the drool of my chin and stare hoplessly into the darkness.
Day ?: Vrill's Aside
Vrill yawns. "Great. Shoulda picked up a paperback." He sits down on a gravestone.
Vrill looks over at Renwick. "Can't I trade jobs with this guy? He
can be the goddamn archnemesis mastermind evil wizard, what-have-you. I'll be the PC and advance this story along just fine. Fuck it, hey Mr. Dungeonmaster." Vrill cups his hands around his mouth and speaks up to the sky. "I'm going to search for frickin' secret doors. Nevermind, I roll a 3."
He looks down at the gravestone he's sitting on, and reads out loud. "'Mr. Shellbourne. Trent. 2817-2865.'
Day ?: Terminal L
Okay, you pass the fifth day completely uneventfully. Cinder, you head out to pick some pockets to no avail... the dead guys either have nothing, or security's too tight. Don't wanna fuck with the Lichlord's people. You feel bad about just taking Renwick's stuff, but you can't steal without earning a disapproving look from Brogg.
Later that evening, you head deeper downstairs (now two levels beneath the food court) into a drippy subway tunnel. The seven of you are the only people waiting here, except for a giant skeleton, about nine feet tall, sitting on a bench. The tunnel is flooded, forming a sort of underground river, although the water is still and fetid.
It's more of a boat or barge than a shuttle, as it seems to be floating on the dirty water. Actually, it's not any of those things. It happens to be an enormous corpse, of a man about forty feet tall and ten feet wide, face down in the water. A few large wooden crates or shacks have been erected on his back, pegged down into the dead skin. It's not clear how the corpse is propulsed or if there's anyone even driving it/him, as there's nothing else and no one else on the body. The skeleton stands up, crosses over onto the guy's back, and sits down atop one of the huge crates.
You head onto the 'shuttle', and camp out inside a couple of the shacks. Ron and Vrill both look disturbed in their own individual ways. "What the hell is this?" says Vrill incredulously.
Loaded, the body then floats down into the darkness of the tunnels. Unless you make light, it's pitch black for the duration.
You finally emerge in a stone vault. For some reason, a red velvet rope is along the water's edge, except for an opening where the giant skeleton disembarks into the station. The only light in here is gloom, coming from the stairs back up... it seems to be moonlight. You leave the station, the giant body floats away, and you head up the stairs into terminal L.
Terminal L is a massive outdoor graveyard at midnight, set on a slowly sloping hill. Midnight? It should be morning, but after being in the dark in the tunnel for so long, and now out here, you're not totally sure just what time- or even day- it is. Random graves, tombs, and mausoleums stretch for as far as you can see. In the distance, things shamble here and there. You see the giant skeleton stalking off down the hill.
"Uh..." says Vrill. "Okay. Terminal L. We need to get to terminal L2. Gimme the tour book." Vrill flips through the book. "Let's see.... 'Terminal L is home to a number of undead nasties and is lately overrun with ghouls and ghoulkin.' Fantastic. 'Since the temporary closure of terminals B and Z, the transportation between L and the secondary terminal, L2, is rarely in service.' This just keeps getting better and better. Hello, Shithole. 'Historically, the shuttle between L and L2 was the first in all of Hello Airport, and was modelled after the Rivers Styx and Lethe of Greek mythology and the Nine Hells...' blah blah architect... blah blah used by... Okay, here we go. 'As the secondary terminal served as the gateway to the temple in Terminal Z, the main entrance was richly decorated and surrounded with willow trees. The Vampire Lord Strahd von Dracular, upon arrival in Hello Airport, constructed his fortress with this entrance as its center, thus securing his power and control in Terminal L for all time.'"
Vrill closes the book and frowns. "'Strahd von Dracular
'? That's... that's just maybe the worst thing I've ever heard. This module sucks
. You guys should return it and get your money back, go run G1 Against the Hill Giant Chieftain or something. Strahd von Dracular... unbelievable."
Ron nods. "That guy sounds pretty scary." Vrill glares at him and shakes his head. "No, he sounds completely LAME." He hands the tour book back to Marivhon. "Okay heroes, how do you want to find Castle Dracular
I get on the friggin shuttle.
Cinder wants to get in one good 'pick pockets' in the black market area of the food cafeteria. It's where all the good shit is.
BR:84. huh. hope nobody notices that one....for a confidence booster, he's gonna pick Renwick's pocket, BR:64. Damnnit!
I was just down a couple of Cure Lights if I remember correctly. BRs: 13 and 17 fails both checks.
Oh well, I am good to go.
uh I take the frickin shuttle.
Day 4, Evening: Brogg's Prayers
Have you cast out any spells since last you memorized? For *each* spell you need to rememorize, you have to make a WI check at -(3* circle). If you don't remember or want to bother going to look back at previous posts to figure out which spells you've cast, well neither do I. In this case, just randomly remove half your spells and try to get back the others.
The force of Grisbane is pretty weak here, in other words.
Yeah, now that's an NPC-only
Thanks for the ticket, Greg.
I'll relax for the next 24. I am not praying to anyone but the Big G for my spells.
Day 4, Evening: Vrill's Book
Yup, it looks like one and the same. You peek over the bathroom stall and see Vrill sitting on the toilet (closed), peering at the flesh-bound volume, muttering to himself. It ain't a pretty picture.
I want to make sure Vrill is studying from skelelords spellbook.
Day 4, Evening: Gregory Vrill And The Carbuncle's Jewel
Vrill is waiting in line at Legal Seafoods Express. He’s just behind- hey look, it’s the clay golem again. The golem is taking forever, and Vrill is getting pretty impatient. “You uh, you gonna make up your mind there soon, buddy?” Vrill taps his foot. “Oh screw this, listen. This guy just wants the clams. And can I get an order of the Salty Seaman’s Fish and Chipz? Thanks, thanks ‘Melissa’,” he says to the girl at the counter. The golem takes his tray of clams and goes to sit down, and Vrill comes on back munching on a big piece of fried breaded fish.
“Alright, yeah. Let’s just cough up the cash and take the shuttle,” Vrill agrees. Everyone turns to look at Renwick, who’s just sitting there staring blankly. A little trickle of drool drips down to his chin. “What’s, ah… what’s wrong with your mage?” asks Vrill. “Well, whatever. Let’s see… one, two, three… I guess he counts as a body… there are seven of us. Seven thousand gee-pees. Hmm.” Vrill thinks for a second. Then his eyes light up. “I’ve got an idea…” he says, and stalks off out of the food court.
Not wanting to let this weasel get away from you again, you hurry off after him. He heads back a few terminals to a familiar scene… some lizard men fighting over the carbuncle! Vrill wastes no time and lightning bolts all the combatants.
“Wow!” says the little carbuncle, who ambles on over towards Vrill. “Gee whiz! You must be a powerful wizard!”
Vrill does his best to fake good-natured delight and modesty. “Heh heh, well, I don’t know. Some might say that,” he says, looking sideways at the lot of you.
“Do you want to be my friend?” asks the carbuncle.
“Well, sure little guy. Hey, do you like french fries?”
“Sure I do!”
“Well what do you know? Me too! I’ve got some right here. Would you like a french fry?”
“You bet I would!”
The carbuncle waddles over, and Vrill bends down to feed a fry to it.
While the carbuncle munches away, Vrill says “Hey, you look a little… lonely.”
“Yeah… yeah I guess. I’m the only carbuncle around here.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Greg.”
“Hi Greg! My name is… um, I guess I don’t have a name?”
“No name? Well no wonder you don’t have any friends, if you can’t introduce yourself and say ‘Hello there Mr. So-and-so, I’m Mr. Such-and-such.”
“Wow, I never thought of that. I guess you’re right. Having a name helps to make friends, huh?”
“It sure does. See, look at me! I’ve got tons of… uh, tons of- friends.” He points in your general direction.
“Those guys look kind of familiar.”
“Huh? Oh no, they’re new down here. Anyway, here’s another fry.”
“Thanks!” Munch munch.
“How about I give you a name? Would you like that?”
“Oh wow! That would be just swell.”
“Okay… hmm. Carbuncle. How about… Carby the Carbuncle.”
“That’s just a great name.”
“Thanks, glad you like it. Would you like to hear a story, Carby?”
“A… a story?! You bet I would!”
“Okay, I’ll tell you a story.” Vrill goes and sits down on a nearby bench, and ‘Carby’ climbs on up onto his lap. Vrill tries to ignore you, thinks for a second, and begins his story.
“Once upon a time- because all great stories start out with ‘once upon a time’- there lived an owlbear. His name was Tony, and he was very sad, because he was the only owlbear in all the wood.”
“I sure know what that’s like!” states Carby.
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, Tony the owlbear was all alone, and one day he decided that he wanted to make some friends. Literally. So he went on a long journey to the heart of the forest where there lived the powerful Wizard of the Woods, uh… the powerful magic-user Rover Gillryg.”
“Rover is a great name! I love it!”
“Thanks. Yeah, the guy’s name is Rover Gillryg. So Tony went to Rover’s hut and pleaded with the wizard to make him a new friend, another owlbear to play with and hunt with and do… do owlbear stuff with.”
“Like claw claw bite?”
“Exactly. Now, while Rover was an extremely powerful, influential, and affluent wizard, and a well-liked member of the forest community, it’s just really damn hard to make owlbears, as it turns out. Only the finest parts of owls and bears will do. You need a giant owl head, with a well-preserved beak, you need a bear’s corpse with perfectly shaped and sized talons, you need…”
“Uh… (gulp)… a bear’s… corpse?!”
“Oh sorry. Well, never mind the details. Just take it from me that it’s pretty hard to make a good owlbear. Especially one that would… you know, play with Tony and stuff. So Rover commanded Tony to bring him the biggest owl and best bear in all the wood. Tony agreed, but when he left the hut, he suddenly felt pretty bad… where would he find the biggest owl and the best bear?”
“I don’t know… um, maybe, maybe at a shoe store?”
“What? No, look, it was a rhetorical question. In the story, Tony is asking himself where to go. So Tony heads back home, and goes down to the Deep Blue Pond, which is his best thinking spot. And he sits, and he sits, and he thinks, and he thinks. And it grows late, so he goes home to his owlbear nest… owlbears build nests like owls, but in caves like bears. Did you know that?”
“Nope! I don’t even know what an owlbear is!”
“What the hell? How can you not know… well, it’s like a big-ass bear with the head of an owl. Plus it has feathers, and… See, it’s created by a powerful mage, and sometimes the mage can make it cast spells, or give it iron talons, you can customize your owlbear if you’re good and know what you’re doing.”
Carby’s eyes begin to glaze over again, and he nods stupidly in agreement with Vrill.
“Well, it’s just like the name says. Part owl, part bear, okay? So Tony went to his nest and went to sleep. And while he was asleep, he had an amazing dream, of being at the circus, and dancing under the bigtop with three large friendly bears, while all the people, all the children and their happy little fucking families looked on and clapped. In the morning, then, when Tony woke up, he had a great idea. A dance contest! For all the forest creatures!”
Vrill looks down at the carbuncle. “Hey, by the way, that’s a really great gem. I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think it just looks fantastic. What is that, opal?”
“Thanks Mr. Greg! Nope, it’s a ruby!”
“I bet you just had it polished, because it’s sparkling all nice like.”
“Nope again! It’s just naturally sparkly!”
“That’s super. Back to the story. So Tony makes some fliers and crap like that and advertises his super dance party all around the forest. Long story short, all the animals come and dance and have a great time. Tony goes around making sure everyone’s having fun, and sizes up a few bears who showed up. One of them is just freaking huge, though, and so Tony… Well, Tony… Do you know what Xanax is, Carby?”
“Nope, is that like another wizard? It sounds like a wizard’s name!”
“Uh, yeah. It’s a wizard. Tony knew this other guy who’s a wizard, the wizard Xanax, and Xanax made the big bear get all sleepy. Then Tony dragged him off to Rover’s hut, and said ‘Hey there Master Gillryg! I got the bear for you!’ ‘Nice job,’ said Rover, ‘one down, now you just need the owl.’ The thing is, though, is that owls don’t dance, so none of them showed up to the party. Tony had to come up with another idea.”
“Why didn’t he just telepathically communicate with an owl and tell it what a great gem he had?”
Vrill stops for a second. “Uh, right. Right. Okay. You know what?” Vrill looks at his watch. “Yeah, that’s exactly what he did. Tony the owlbear telepathically broadcasted to all the owls in the forest what an amazing red ruby… you know, just like yours… what a great gem he had.”
“Have another fry, little guy. Well, you know what? I’m not sure if it was exactly like yours. It was pretty nice though.”
“My gem is pretty nice too! It’s worth at least 1000 gps, maybe 5000!”
“Oh really? But Tony’s had a great little thing, it came to a point in the bottom. So you could… you could spin it like a top.”
“My gem’s… um… I don’t know Mr. Greg. I’ve never seen the bottom of my gem.”
“Well why not Carby?”
“Ha ha! Because it’s in my forehead silly!”
“Right you are. Too bad we can’t take a look at the bottom, and find out if Tony’s gem and your gem… are the same gem. Piece of fish?”
“(Munch munch.) Well… if you can keep a secret… I guess I could pop it out for a second.”
“Really? Well that would be just great. Just for a second. For the story.”
“Well okay Mr. Greg. You’re a nice guy and a great wizard! I trust you.”
“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we Carby? Me and you?”
“Sure we are! Okay, here I go!”
Carby squints real hard and sure enough, out pops the carbuncle’s jewel. Vrill grabs it greedily, looks at it, and the carbuncle looks very surprised. Gemless, ‘Carby’ falls over dead. Vrill watches the gem for a second, but it doesn’t disintegrate. He stands up, wipes his greasy hands on his pants, puts the gem in his backpack, and walks back over to you guys.
“Okay, heh heh. What a turd. Let’s get on that shuttle.”
Vrill heads back to the black market under the food court, casts Friends, and pawns Carby’s jewel for passage for all of you on the shuttle tomorrow night. “Look, I’m gonna get some shut-eye and re-memorize my spells. Whatever you do, just be here tomorrow night.” Vrill heads over to a corner stall and closes the door.
You’re free to do whatever for the next 24 hrs. After that though, comes the next post. If no one's done anything by Wednesday, I'll just automatically advance the plot.
Sounds like we take the shuttle right Renwick?