CAS
Friday, February 27, 2015
A Time to Honor a Life
Leonard Nimoy has passed away and it is a time to honor his life. I will do so by watching my favorite episodes of my favorite series of his work; Star Trek.
He has left this stage and journeyed to the next. I hope he finds joy and love and adventure.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 99
"What
in the Nine Hells is that?" Harold asked.
The
little thief stared at a broken form not much taller than himself but broad and
muscular as an ape. It had a coat of greyish fur and a thick mane of black hair
surrounding a face like a cross between a human's and a wolf's.
"That,"
said the ranger turning the dead body over with his foot, "that is a
gibberling."
He
bent and felt the muscles in its hand then touched its neck, the spine snapped
like a stick. "Still stiff, killed last night, thrown, look at that stone,
that's what broke its neck."
Underneath
the dead beast's head was a rounded block, a large square of stone worn down by
time.
"That
is an odd stone," the ranger touched the grey rock, it was speckled with
bits of black, cold and smooth under his hand. He pulled up a clump of weeds
that grew beside it and revealed the corner, cut stone; a building had stood
upon this spot, but long ago. "...as I thought."
"What?"
Harold asked. "What do you think?"
"Here,"
he said pushing back a thick bush so that the stump of the plant was visible,
"more stones. We're standing near the foundation of some building, or in
it."
"Where?"
asked Little Rat twisting around to see.
"Tumbled
down," Harold told the orc. "Just stones now."
"Oh,"
Little Rat said in a disappointed tone.
"You
two wait here for the others," said the ranger, "if there is one
gibberling, there are a hundred."
"Are
they dangerous?" squeaked Harold.
"Very,"
the ranger smiled. "But not in daylight. We have half the day to get beyond
their reach."
North
of where he'd found the body of the gibberling the ranger broke through the
thick underbrush and stood within a wide swath of torn and uprooted plants.
There was a circle where the trees were knocked down and the ground torn up,
the oerth churned as if from a plowman's blade. Mixed with the dirt were the
shards of bones, splintered, the marrow gone. A minute's search turned up a
skull, stripped of flesh and cracked open then hollowed out. A giant fought and
died here, then was eaten raw. The destruction ran west-east, the tracks,
hundreds of them, pointed toward the east; they'd gone toward the rising sun.
The dead and drying leaves were still alive the day before, sometime last night
the gibberlings had passed, or so the ranger judged from the signs he found.
*
* *
"Gibberlings,"
said Telenstil standing over the body.
"Strange
to find them here," said Talberth.
"What
are they?" asked Ghibelline, "Nothing of nature surely?"
"Drones
perhaps, like ants, they may have a queen and spring from eggs, "said
Talberth, "We studied them at university, I have seen one splayed open,
preserved, they are not male or female, these do not reproduce."
"A
wizard's creation, yes." said Telenstil."That is my thought. They are
extremely dangerous, though not during the day."
"That
is what Harald said," spoke up the thief.
"They
are rare to find like this," mused Talberth, "they eat their dead.
You only find their bones, or when the last of a herd has been killed."
"He
said it was thrown, and that rock is part of a building."
Ivo
bent and ran his hand along the stone as the ranger had done. "He was
right, at least about this rock. And these, Telenstil, these are old, very old.
This is not the work of gnomes or dwarves."
"Giants?"
asked Talberth.
Ivo
laughed. "Giants no, well not Nosnra's kind," he looked closer at the
block, "not the giants of stone and rock either, I know their work; Human
hands perhaps. Another mystery, back at that hill, a trail leading up to
nothing, and here, something was built here."
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 98
Talberth
had never slept more soundly in his life, but he awoke with a terrible ache,
every muscle in his body felt like it had been pulled apart and sewn back
together with twine. It was sometime before dawn, he lay upon a bed of fir
branches with his pack was beneath his head. The night had been cold but dry
and with a second layer of branches piled over him he had been warm as if he'd
been sleeping in a bed.
The
sky was purple, day would be coming fast but already the others were astir, all
except for the orcs. Boss, Meatstealer and the surviving pair, Halfknife and
Brokenhand, would have preferred to travel by night. They liked the dark; the
day was for sleeping more often than not. Months had passed while they had been
the giants' slaves; day was when the torches burned, when they worked digging
the tunnels beneath the steading. Night was when they were locked in their
unlit cells; they had not missed the sun.
"Time
to wake up," Ivo gave Talberth's shoulder a shake.
"I'm
up," he yawned. "How long did I sleep?"
"Five
hours, a little more," laughed Ivo quietly. "You were out on your
feet last night. You were asleep and snoring before Harald cut the last of the
branches for your bed."
"I
don't snore," muttered Talberth.
They
ate a cold breakfast of half-cooked beef. Harald had found one steer that had
burned longer than the rest, he hadn't mentioned the body of the giant he'd
found roasted beneath it, avoiding any qualms that the others might have. The
orcs had taken their own choice cuts, preferring their flesh raw or at most
just kissed by the flames and nothing more. They were less squeamish than the
others, a week rotting in a canvas sack just added to the taste for them.
"Which
way now?" Talberth asked just before they set off.
The
scorched beef had been passed around with fresh water from the spring.
"Muphlimm-umph,"
Ivo answered him then swallowed the mouthful of food he'd been chewing.
"North, Harald's finding us a trail."
"He's
back," Harold spoke up, pointing to the ranger weaving his way through the
brush back up to where they sat. "I'll go get Ghibelline, he's keeping
watch by the spring."
"Talberth,
why don't you get those orcs moving?" Ivo asked the tall mage.
"They
seem to listen to Ghibelline just as well," said Talberth.
"That
was yesterday," Ivo replied, "they were just obeying the tone of his
voice, they forgot he was an elf. Go on, they're scared of you, all the
qualities that a leader of orcs needs."
"Since
when are you an expert on orcs," Talberth said annoyed. He didn't enjoy
his status with the orcs.
"Well
this is a first for me," laughed Ivo. "But I know orcs, too well I
know them, believe me."
"Well
I've never had them on my side before either," said Talberth.
"Oh
don't make that mistake," Ivo told him seriously, "they aren't on our
side, don't trust them, if they think they can get away with it they'll put a
dagger in your back, especially because they're scared."
"I
don't trust them, I don't like them," Talberth replied heatedly, "I
don't want them with us..."
"Easy
there," Ivo said in a calm and friendly voice, "I agree, but they are
with us for now. You are they best to deal with them. We need you Talberth,
don't let us down."
"I'm
sorry Ivo, I... I just needed more sleep," Talberth said quietly,
"I'll go get the orcs."
Hyperborea - The Island Fortress of Boyan the Wizard Part 1
Hyperborea
The
Island Fortress of Boyan the Wizard Part 1
Before
the time of man there were the Gods. Perun the Thunderer was the strongest and
Veles the Snake was his brother. They split the world and chose the realms that
they would rule. The contest they fought over this choice raised mountains in
ash and fire, caused storms that drained the sea and floods that swept the
Earth bare. While Perun was the stronger Veles was smarter, crafty and skilled
with magic.
The
struggle went on for ages and they created allies from the seeds of life to be
found. The early Lizard Kings and their beasts aided them, but while they were
the first children of Veles many were swayed by the raw power of Perun and
betrayed their divine father. As the strife continued and the ages passed all
manner of bird, beast and finally man were created.
The
northern top of the world was carved from the earth and moved to a place beyond
time. It became a gateway to other places, other times and other possibilities. It became a place of legend. It became
Hyperborea.
***
Boyan
the Wizard is a servant of Veles. He has ruled the northern islands for
countless years, but it has been years longer since he was last seen. Still the
people of the islands have been under his rulership for all the years that he
has been gone. Boyan's fortress is set upon one of a cluster of small islands
near the northern coast. His ships and flying beasts kept the farmers and
fisherman of the towns and villages under check, collected the tithes in slaves
and treasure, and recruited boys to become soldiers in the wizard's service.
Then
the storm came and with the crash of lightening, the lash of torrential rain,
the wind that broke walls, uprooted trees and foundered ships, the secret
worshipers of Perun rose up and struck against the servants of Boyan and
regained their freedom.
For
long weeks the last of the wizard's servants were hunted down, but to
everyone's surprise there has been no sign of the wizard or his steward and the
council of apprentices who rule in the name of the wizard. Finally an
expedition has been put together; warriors, clerics of Perun and the hidden
Gods, magicians (who are not entirely trusted) and even thieves from Debent,
largest of the towns formerly under the sway of the Boyan. With a small ship
and crew who will take them to the wizard's fortress and then retreat to the
safety of the nearby islands to prepare a camp and wait for a signal to return,
this adventurous group will set out to explore the fortress and report back on
what they find.
This
is an open ended adventure for 5 to 10 characters levels 4 to 6. A well
balanced party is recommended. (Welcome to the 1st draft).
Saturday, February 21, 2015
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 97
They
wandered down the trail to where Gytha stood beside Ghibelline. The ranger
talked with them, straight and tall, the grievous wounds he'd received healed
by the cleric's faith and prayers.
"...be
more." said Harald.
"I
know, they will be hunting for us, those wolves of theirs will track us down,"
Ghibelline said.
"There
are a few tricks to throw them off our trail," Harald glanced up and down
the path. "But this place, they may lose our scent among all these bodies
and blood."
* * *
Telenstil
had been right. The moons were up and still the party was on the move. It was
slow going, and despite Harald's best efforts they were leaving an easy trail.
They were heading north and west, away from the hills and up into the
mountains, but they hadn't left the woods behind.
Low
branches slashed at them, roots and stones caught their feet, made them trip
and stumble; they followed a deer trail that weaved through the underbrush. The
ground was rough and uneven, the trail narrow and lined with thornbushes, they
moved with a slow and awkward pace.
Harald
had gone ahead, some said that he had the elven sight but it wasn't true. It
was Talberth and Gytha who had the worst of it, neither could see far in the
dim moonlight. Gytha at least had some woodscraft, she'd lived within the hills
and mountains of Geoff all her life, but Talberth had been born and raised in
Greyhawk, the hub of the Oerth as he called it. The young mage knew much about
the arcane crafts, had served as an apprentice to Telenstil and seen the world
beyond his city's walls, but he had never been far from a campsite or an inn.
He was not used to wandering through the woods at night, looking for a place to
camp, forced to sleep out under the stars, his pack as a pillow and his arms
folded about him for a blanket.
They
traveled single file, the orcs last in line carrying Derue, the thief and young
orc leading the others over the trail. The two humans were kept at the center
of the file where those with the nighteyes could keep them from falling in the
dark or straying from the path. There was a hiss, low and subdued, it came from
the halfling and it brought them to a halt.
"There
is a clearing up ahead," Harold whispered to Telenstil and Ivo.
"Where
is Harald?" the elven mage asked.
"I
have no idea," Harold snapped back. "What do you want us to do?"
"Did
you see something?" Ivo asked him.
"Nothing
but the end of this trail," said the thief. Harold was not pleased to come
upon a surprise when his friend the ranger was somewhere ahead and nowhere to
be seen. "He should have come back to warn us. I don't like this."
"Can
you circle the clearing?" asked Telenstil.
"I
can," said Ghibelline speaking over the gnome's head. "Let me go,
I'll see what has happened to the ranger."
"I
can do it," Harold said with a huff.
"You're
as quiet as a mouse in slippers," said Ivo, "but Ghibelline has the
woodscraft."
"Shhh..."
hissed Ghibelline.
"Yea,
quiet down." a voice said from nearby. Harald worked his way slowly from
beneath a thornbush.
"Where
were you?" demanded the thief.
"Sorry,
you made better time than I expected," Harald replied. "I found us a
decent spot. There is a spring up here and a small rise just beyond the
clearing where we can camp."
"We
nearly had to go looking for you," complained Harold.
The ranger shrugged. "Good practice for
you, out here you never know, scouting ahead is dangerous work, sometimes you
don't come back."
"Harald,"
said Telenstil, cutting off the thief before he could say anymore, "Show
us this place. We can all use the rest."
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Review - The Manor #1 (repost)
NOTE: Reposting this old review because I will finally be sitting down and reviewing the other issues of The Manor (I'm only a few years delayed, but I've been busy)
The
Manor Issue #1
(24
page digest-sized 'zine
Cover
Art: Jason Sholtis
Interior
Art: Jonathan Bingham
Contents:
Introduction:
By Tim Shorts
The
Salt Pit: By Tim Shorts
There's
Something Shiny in the Troglodyte Dung Heap 1d12: By Jason Sholtis
Rural
Pennsylvania: Ghoul House: By Tim Shorts
Poetry
Slam: By Rusty Battle Axe
20
Random Forest Encounters: By Tim Shorts
Street
Vendor: Oren's Boots: By Tim Shorts
There
are a few things that always please me in a 'zine. A good cover, a few good
ideas and a little of the magic that takes me back to the days when TSR meant
Gygax and Co., Dragon Mag wasn't glossy and Judges Guild was just starting to
crank out their first guidebook supplements/adventures and Dungeonneer was
itself a digest-sized 'zine. Tim Shorts' The Manor succeeds in all of this for
me.
To
start with, I love the red and black troglodyte cover. It is begging to be used
as an adventure hand-out and I intend to write a suitable encounter around it.
That clawed hand is reaching for you! And note the pointy teeth. Definitely
some claw/claw/bite headed the player's way.
And
that is just the cover. Tim has managed to stuff his 'zine with a nice amount
of material without making the font too small for me to read. As I get older
the more I appreciate non-tiny font. The first article is tiny, a
micro-adventure. On its own it is an itsy-bitsy adventure but it ties in nicely
with other aspects of the 'zine and can be easily expanded. Just reading it
over I can see several ways to run it and provide a few surprises to spring on
the players. The Salt Pit would be handy as an encounter near the Village of
Hommlet or somewhere near The Keep on the Borderland. With all the talk about
zero-level funnels dropping a group of them down the Salt Pit is definitely an idea.
Jason
Sholtis of roll1d12.blogspot.com comes up with excellent and varied random
tables. His 'There is Something Shiny in the Troglodytes Dung Heap' is another
of his short and amusing offerings though I needed to replace the car keys.
Rural
PA: Ghouls House is a good inspiration for fantasy horror or somewhere that
Lovecraft should have included in his stories. Pennsylvania is home to number
of mines, abandoned farms and even towns that need very little work to use as
an rpg setting. Tim has a found an excellent spot, the photos and description
are good idea sources, though perhaps a little heavy on the ghouls.
Sadly
the Poetry Slam did nothing for me, though I did like the Umber Hulk
illustration.
20
Random Forest Encounters is a useful little table of encounters for a mostly
low level part. There is a nice balance between those that could hurt, help or
amuse the player characters.
Street
Vendor: Orsen's boots presents a trio of useful NPC's and a trio of adventure
hooks to go with them. These characters can be used as toss-away one time
encounters or NPCs that can be used again and again.
The
Manor Issue #1 is a successful entry into what seems to be a growing world of
'zines. I'd recommend going for the subscription.
You
can find Tim Shorts at:
gothridgemanor.blogspot.com
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Characters - #3) Gizurr - Berserker - Northman
#3)
Gizurr - Berserker - Northman
-Ftr
6th Lvl - HP 56 (94 when Berserk) - AC 9 (4 when Berserk) +1 To hit (+3 to Hit/
+3 Dmg when Berserk). Immune to all spells and effects which attempt to slow,
bind, charm, transmute or render unconscious while Berserk.
Gizuur
lives in the hills above the fjord. He has been blessed by the Raven God with the
red strength that comes from the old blood of bears. He is a sworn man to Rolfr
and accompanies him on raids or when called upon at the settlement around the
Fjord. When not raiding or fighting for Rolfr he works as a miner in the old caves
and sells the red iron ore to the local smiths.
Once
per day he can choose to go berserk (see Note). As a berserk wearing armor or
even clothing is difficult as his muscles increase in size and he can split
seams or cause damage to himself from the leather straps or chain links. He
chooses to wear no shirt and only a loose kilt-like wrap of animal fur around
his loins. For a weapon he wields an old axe called "Skull-Splitter"
which can split a man from pate to breast bone on a natural '20' (double-damage
on a save versus death magic otherwise an instant kill). Only those in a
Berserk state can wield 'Skull-Splitter' properly and it is considered a holy
weapon blessed by the
Raven
King.
Note:
Those blessed by the Raven King can go into a wild state called Berserking once
per day. They can summon this state in a single combat round and it will last
for 2 combat for every point of their constitution.
Their
strength becomes exceptional and they are at +3 to Hit and +3 to Damage. Their
AC becomes AC4 unless they are wearing armor of some sort which raises them to
AC6 till it is removed. Many berserkers fight in the nude and at the very least
fight bare-chested. Wearing metal armor causes 2HP of damage per combat round
and leather armor will split and fall from their arms and chest.
Berserkers gain HP equal to their maximum for
both their level and their constitution bonus with a 10HP bonus. Thus a 6th
level fighter with 18 constitution would have 94HP while berserk. If a
berserker is injured beyond his natural HP he will collapse after leaving the
berserk state, if he is injured to a point more than 10HP below his natural HP
he will die immediately upon leaving the berserk state.
While
in a berserk state the berserker is immune to all spells and effects magical that
would cause him to be bound, lose consciousness, be hasted or slowed, charmed,
or transmuted. He is immune to natural poison, pain, or injuries that would
render him unconscious.
Once
all enemies are dead a berserker will turn on his friends and most save versus
spells to keep them for every combat round that the berserk state is in effect.
A berserker cannot control the length of his berserk state (2xConstitution in
combat rounds) and must remain berserk for the entire duration. Once a
Berserker has left his berserk state he will be at -4 to Hit and -4 damage till
he has rested for at least 12 hours.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
New blog for archiving images
I am starting a new blog to archive images while I keep this blog for creative work. Here is the link to the new blog
http://vaultofthemountainking.blogspot.com/
Since I will be posting a considerable amount of material on the new blog I will not be sending the posts to G+ but just posting them to the blog so as not to overwhelm the stream of anyone following my posts.
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