Ironwolf Play Report 1

This is page one of one of my play-by-forum games. Since it's a pbp, it should be pretty self-explanatory without much need for any other setup. If you are interested at all, let me know and I will post more from it.


It is well after dark when you finally arrive at your destination. Looking up the black hillside, you can make out the shadows of ancient broken towers. They are barely visible against the heavy clouds and behind the black, hulking skeletons of dying trees. Seeing a tiny breath of orange glowing weakly between some of the branches, you begin making your way up toward the dark towers.

As you hike upward through the trees, you think back on some of the strange tales which brought you here. Long shunned by the nearby townsfolk, years ago a series of vast treasure hoards were discovered in the twisting mazes beneath the castle proper, along with hungry beasts and deadly traps. Legends were made in that time; names the like of Erac’s Cousin, Melf, Tenser, Otiluke, and Lord Robilar will live on for centuries. Eventually, though, the dungeons lost their luster as the treasures became smaller and harder to win, the traps were dismantled, and the monsters slain; eventually only the desperate or foolhardy dared enter the dungeons beneath the castle. Recently, however, reports have surfaced of renewed stockpiles of wealth in the dank passages and chambers beneath the ground.

Near the top you make your way across crumbling black stones, wet from the recent rain and covered in deep green moss. Leaving the densest of the cracking branches behind, you head through the fallen tower ruins in hopes of finding the warmth you spied from below. Instead, you find a dark rectangular chasm plummeting down into the black foundations of the ruined tower.

Another shock of lightning reveals the broken black stones of the descending steps, glistening with rain and moss, and disappearing into absolute blackness some twenty steps below. It also reveals, much more closely than you might have expected, a handful of other people looking down the dark stairwell.

Their clothing wet from the rain, and some showing the glint of metal armor, a red-haired dwarf, a hobbit, a woman, and two men, one looking rather large, stand at the top of this descending stairwell. What would each of you like to do and/or say?

[IC] Finnigan thoughtfully studies the other four figures surrounding the stairway, his hands casually resting on the pommel of his battle axe, and slowly nods his head. Through squinted eyes, and with a low, smooth voice, he says,

"Ay, it looks like I not be the only one set to explore the depths of these here castle ruins this fine wet evening."

[OCC] Squinted eyes? Maybe Fin's near-sighted! Or maybe it's just the rain...

[IC] Mantid stares down into the blackness gripping his mace tightly in his hands and is mumbling to himself as if he was praying. If you listen closely it almost sounds like, "Stop what comes."

Upon hearing the dwarf speak Mantid turns to look at him and says, "We must stop what is coming... I know not what, only that I was sent here to stop it." With blank zealot-like stare Mantid gives the dwarf a nod of acknowledgment.

[OOC]
Mantid will wait until the others have their say before deciding where to go next. Meanwhile he will stand guard and watch for any sign of danger.

The woman is well dressed in expensive blue velvet robes, her long curly blonde hair sensibly up in a bun, although a few wayward tangles escape here and there.

"Stop what is coming, hmm? Personally I just want to see what is down there!"

She turns and give the others a dazzling smile.

"Callista Featherstonehaugh. Pronounced Fanshaw, if you please. Working to understand the workings of the arcane. SO delightful to meet you all".

She pauses, with an attitude of polite expectation.

[IC]
Hearing a conversation up ahead, drak marches out of the shadowy trees, his armored feet crunching on dry leaves and twigs, stopping to let those assembled on the hill see him. None of his body can be seen, hidden in a bland suit of platemail. A large slab of plain metal is strapped to his left arm, while a blacksmiths hammer is clutched in his gloved right hand. His helmet is a cylinder on his head, with two inverted triangles for eye-slits. His armor and weapons are covered in some unknown substance, appearing black in the weak moonlight. A bleached, human skull hangs off his belt by a thick chain.

He scans the crowd of people, his gaze lingering on the mumbling human. Double checking the grip on his hammer, he waits for one of them to make the first move.
[IC]

[IC] Mantid glances at the plate mailed clad figure with great suspicion. He doesn't appear to like the looks of him either. A faint echo of a thought flits through his head,"untrustworthy".

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he smiles towards the woman who calls herself Callista something-or-other. She seems like a nice person... not like that menacing looking fellow in armor.

[OOC] Mantid uses what little charm and intelligence he has to form a bond with those who seem "goodly" to him. He is highly suspicious of the plate mailed fellow though.

[IC]
"Well met, Callista and to ye, as well, Mr... fine young cleric who never gave his name and appears to have conversations in his head."

"Me name is Finnigan. "

Fin turns towards the lady...

"I've no love for the arcane, young lady, but it seems we share the desire to see 'what is down there,' as that is why I'm here, as well."

... and then turns towards the cleric.

"Stop what comes, eh? Well... if 'what comes' is flesh and blood, and can feel the bite of my axe, and 'comes' with an equal share of treasure... I might be tempted to help ye. Of course... a name would be nice. What shall we call ye, kind sir?"

With a casual glance at the newcomer, Fin sees one who looks like he's looking for trouble. In a disarming tone, he says...

"And you, black knight? You be here to go into the ruins? ... or protect them?"

[OOC]
You fight with the strength of many men, Sir Knight.
I am Arthur, King of the Britons.
I seek the bravest and finest knights in the land...

Right, sorry, I won't go on...

More on topic, Fin thinks doing something for the cleric (possibly an entire brotherhood?) might not be a bad way to raise his "renown" in the area.

You all notice that all 5 of you are wearing backpacks, and are outfitted with rope and empty sacks, and that 3 of you, quite conspicuously, have looooong wooden poles. Most conspicuous is the hobbit, whose pole is nearly 4 times his own height, and seems to be presenting at least a slight difficulty in balancing. If it wasn't for the pole, he would melt quite well into the background, as he is yet to say anything.

Drak puts away his hammer, hanging it in a loop on his belt, and faces the dwarf.

"I am here to search the area, and I am no knight."

[IC]
Finnigan suddenly notices the tip of a pole waving in the air. Following it down with his eyes, he sees it is held by a man even shorter than him! He gives him a quick once-over and cautiously squints his eyes again as he notices the halfling carries nothing more stout than a knife for close combat...

"What about you, little halfling? What brings you to this gaping hole with a 10' pole?"

[IC]A sudden flash of memory resurfaces in Mantid's head as he peers more closely at the dark man in armor. Upon hearing the dwarf introduce himself to the nice lady, and addressed him with demanding eyes. The fleeting memory vanishes, and Mantid replies,


"My apologies, sir dwarf, um Finna-in? My name is Mantid, Mantid Notallbright they call me back at St. Culthbert's monastery."And with that he smiles broadly at Finnigan and Callista, which quickly turns into a frown as he eyes the armored brooding looking fellow once more. Mantid has a feeling he knows what he came here to stop...

[OOC]
Mantid will remain where he is standing (mace and shield in hand) and will be carefully watching Drak.

"My apologies, good sir, I meant nothing by it. It was the helmet that threw me off, to be sure. And by what name shall we be calling thee?"

Callista starts a little at the sight of this rather.... intimidating looking personage in the helmet.

"oh my!" she murmurs, and watches the scene. She notices the smiles and politely returns them.

Walking quickly (for a halfling) up to the staircase, mostly ignoring the gathering, I peer down into the deep darkness for a few moments. Seeming to find satisfaction in the ancient passageway, I turn back to the dwarf and say him,

"I work alone."

And with that, I start down the stairs.

30 seconds later, I come back out of the crypt, slightly sheepishly.

"Anyone got a light?"

Walking up to the group, drak feels around in a sack until he pulls out a small bag, then throws it at the halfling.

A whistle of air shoots out of the darkness below, and a flash of metal flies toward one of you!

Greyhawk Things

Some isolated little bits about my currently running version of Greyhawk.

• OD&D with all supplements up through Eldritch Wizardry. Chainmail man-to-man combat with d20.
• Uses the gazetteer from '80, boxed set from '81, Greyhawk Adventures book from '88, City of Greyhawk book from '89, Yggsburgh book from '05.
• Set in the year 610, some 30 years after the heyday of such figures as Robilar, Tenser and Mordenkainen back in the early 570's.
• None of that Greyhawk Wars stuff or the Rary traitor incidents ever happened.
• There is a Zork sub-level in Castle Greyhawk.
• No one has done any delving in the dungeons under Castle Greyhawk in over 20 years. It was considered mostly played-out.
• A small adventuring group led by someone named Ironwolf recently plumbed parts of the dungeon, and rumours of returned wealth have re-surfaced.
• A priest of Khorne has been seen about the city.
• The city is now often referred to as Yggsburgh, after being styled thus by a number of foreigners. Old-timers still call it Greyhawk.
• The Striped Mage is now occasionally seen in the company of a barbarian man, a heavily armoured woman, and a bow-slinging elf. They sometimes handle situations in the city which prove too much for the guardsmen.
• The dungeon under Castle Greyhawk is based on 'The Mad Demigod's Castle.' C&C's Dark Château is nearby. For both the surroundings and the dungeon, I've made extensive use of online copies of notes taken by Gary and his old players. Thanks Grodog and Joe Bloch.
• The Old Kingdom to the East is a mixture of Melnibonean Immryr and The Wizard of Id. Sort of.
• Blackmoor in the North is the one from First Fantasy Campaign. The City of the Gods is all HR Giger.
• Any techno elements hidden away around the map are definitely in the Giger mould, not Star Trekky.
• If you scrape away the right façade, you will find a nice big dose of Yog-Sothothery.

The Devil Sack

A Grumpy Greyhawk magic item - For all intents and purposes this seems to be a typical magical bag of holding, and even an identify spell will indicate this, although the caster of such a spell may get an 'odd feeling' about the item.

In fact, on the night of the next new moon, one object held within the bag will become possessed by a devil. If the DM must, a random roll is acceptable, but the devil does have a choice of which item he or she wishes to inhabit. Additionally, the devil can make use of what they've learned about the carrier of the sack from the time it was picked up 'til the time of possession.

The type of devil may, as well, be determined randomly, but will never be a unique sort, such as one of the princes or dukes.

Although the possessor has no inherent way of knowing this without some type of research, destruction of the sack will make the possession irretrievably permanent, but destruction of the item (no longer as simple a matter as destroying a mundane apple, extra shirt, ten foot pole or whatever the possessed item is) will release the fiend into the world.

Grumpy Greyhawk - An NPC

In my own PbP Greyhawk campaign, the goal is to visit a time some thirty years after the germinal tales of such legendary adventurers as Robilar, Tenser and Terik. Much as the current year in the real world was 2010 when the campaign began, the year in the campaign is 610. There were no 'Greyhawk Wars,' Rary never betrayed anyone, and the last twenty-some years of Sir Robilar's life would, I earnestly hope, be happily claimed by Mr. Kuntz.
The popular name of the City of Greyhawk has changed over the years to Yggsburgh, arising from the influx of so many adventurers and treasure-seekers from foreign lands coming to explore the rumors of Zagyg and the dungeons beneath his crumbling castle. As the campaign began, it had been nearly twenty years since ne'er-do-wells and would-be-heroes had streamed in taxable masses down into the bowels of the ruined pile.

Here is the first of what I intend to be a continuing view of snapshots from Grumpy Greyhawk. This time, it's an NPC from the back alleys of the gaming district. He's partly a mix of Fagin and Mackenzie Crook.

Limm Skellin - In the gaming district you find an urchin who indeed knows a likely party. He asks you several questions which you guess are aimed at weeding out members of the thieve's guild, as he guides you along a complicated path amongst the narrow streets and back alleys to an old place behind some of the gaming establishments. He knocks on a door, and a man looking to be recovering from a hangover opens it. The boy assures him you are 'ok' and comes back to you for his reward. The man, apparently around 20 going on 50, introduces himself with a formal bow, tipping a non-existent hat, and calls himself Limm Skellin. "What can I do for ye t'day, guv'nor?"

-Another quote..
"Right to business. I like that. It's honest, that is. 5 gold orbs. 8, if they're wanted by the authorities. 12 if they're a person of Higher Station, if you know what I mean. Half now, the rest when I show 'em to you. Mind, if it's a wizard, or someone in The Organisation, it might run extra. If I've got nuffing in 3 days, I'll give back half what you gim'me today, retaining the remainder for expenses and such, o' course."

-And another look..
He clears his throat from behind you as you near his lodgings, and steps out of the shadows. "It seems your friend, him of the hollowed out skull purse, has made an impression on the Society of Magi. I can tell you what I've nosed up so far for the remainder of our agreed upon.. but to keep at things, I'm afraid the wizardly entanglements demand a bit more than the average amount o' care." He smiles widely, displaying his ironic lack of care in the dental area.

Do You Recognise These NPCs?

Recent events in my PbP game.
Parameters: 3lbb ODnD + SnW Whitebox + '75 Greyhawk supplement; play-by-post forum game; titled the Ironwolf campaign; set in Gygaxian Greyhawk (no Greyhawk Wars, no traitor Rary, etc.) in the year 610, some 35yrs after the heyday of Robilar, Erac, Tenser, etc.

These are a few of my recent posts in the game, occurring in the city of Yggsburgh (née Greyhawk.)

1. You follow along, and after a short jaunt you witness them trying to apprehend a very large armored man. The large man picks up one of the guards and uses him to club two others, sending them sprawling. He then sends his makeshift guard-club sailing through a nearby window. The large man yells "STERRRRN!!!" and proceeds along the narrow street. The guards regroup, retrieving their downed but only stunned comrades, and take off again after the massive ruffian.

2. You catch up with them again, but this time the sounds of fighting precede your view. Coming around a corner near the city walls, you see that the massive brute (is he perhaps a bit larger than a few minutes ago?) has torn an immensely heavy iron grating from the middle of a street. He bellows "STERRRRRNNN!!!" perhaps somewhat in the direction of the hole from whence the grate was ripped.

The scene here is more serious than before, with two city guards already sprawled several yards away from the melee, gouts of blood discolouring the surrounding cobblestones. As you watch, the brute brings the dislodged iron grating sweeping into the cluster of guards about him, sending 3 more flying outward, their bodies torn by the ragged iron.

3. The fight proceeds until the great brute, who you are now certain has grown slightly in the time you've watched, flings aside the ragged grating and jumps down into the cavity in the street. Several guards start to follow, but hesitate and are pulled back by their comrades. You hear another great bellow of "STERRRRNNN!!!" echo up from beneath the cobblestones.

Shortly, you see an odd group of individuals arrive on the scene:
A very muscular man with a huge axe, wearing only leather breeches and boots.
An old man with a long grey beard wearing blue robes and a pointy purple hat with stars on it.
An elf dressed in muted green and carrying an ornate longbow.
A woman with sword and shield, armored in many pieces of plate armor, but still managing to look rather unprotected in various vital areas.

The guards seem to know them. The woman exchanges a few words with one of the guards, who seems to treat her with a great deal of respect. The group then jumps down into the hole in the street, one by one. A few guards stay around the chasm, but the rest begin leaving with the wounded and dead.


A special No-Prize to anyone able to name the music group supplying the soundtrack in my mind as the above events were typed. :)

That 70s Game

Around the middle of August of this year, I began something that can also be seen as an experiment. I say 'also' because the main purpose isn't experimentation or simulation. It's also not just an exercise in nostalgia. The overarching purpose is simply having a good time. However, it's a wonderfully nostalgic and experimental good time that simulates the journey of Dungeon's & Dragons through the 1970s.

The basic premise was to begin playing a game using only the 3 original Little Brown Booklets first published in February of '74. The first supplement, deceptively (to later enthusiasts) entitled Greyhawk, was first published 13 months later. Therefore, the additional material from this booklet will be incorporated (perhaps not in toto) 13 weeks after the beginning of play. The remaining supplements would come in at the same rate, with weeks between adoption standing for months between publication.

However, the LBBs weren't used in a vacuum. Modification and addition were not only encouraged, but actually required to cover all the strange and unusual things players thought of doing. Improvisation during a game to deal with some unforeseen contingency led very naturally to precedents that a group would continue to site in similar situations. A lot like British Law, from what I understand, interestingly enough. To simulate the proliferation of these house rules, the plan was to begin gradually introducing accretions from Whitebox. Why not just our own house rules? It's a game run via message board on a website, so it's nice to be able to have a concrete, objective, individually accessible reference. Plus, there's information about it on the web, so it's wonderful to be able to just stick a link in a post instead of trying to refer to some past idiosyncratic ruling.

A few days ago, three weeks into the campaign, our first few accretions accrued:

• The Whitebox attack matrices, for determining hits. (these may be identical to the LBB.. I honestly didn't look)
• The Whitebox rules for turning undead.
• The slightly variable damage values for different weapons.

I should say also that even before the first pixels had a chance to dry on the page, a handful of house rules popped up like mushrooms after a nice rain. I'm certain these aren't unique to our little game, but I'd never thought about them in precisely the way I did, or came up with precisely the results we did this time. This intrigues me no end, because I've been making house rules for D&D for 29 years. D&D is evidently an incredibly unique experience, which never occurs the same way twice. I've even heard it's a big-time nerd thing, but I've honestly never experienced that.. anyway...

Here are the little mushrooms that popped up. Some of them can be traced directly to Philotomy's, which I internally picture as a wonderfully ancient and dusty little bookstore, with an appropriately ancient and dusty little wizard wandering around inside.

• Wielding a weapon in each hand gives the sole benefit of adding +1 to your attack role. Pure Philotomy's genius.
• Helmets are conspicuous only in their absence, as per Philotomy's.
• A wizard's first spell book has all 8 first level spells in it.
• A pint flask of oil will burn for 6 hours in a normal lantern. Real modern lamp oil will burn for about 36 hours per pint, but it also won't make goblin flambé.
• You have to make an attack roll to hit a prone foe.
• You can try things like a shield rush in combat, just use a regular attack roll and we'll decide what happens based on how you describe what you try.
• The most substantial house rule to date, the addition of wizard's cantrips.. worthy of it's own post, probably tomorrow.

It seems to be going really well so far, and my hopes are high for more unique and interesting developments. I've also incorporated my desire to (in my case) experience some of the most classic and iconic modules, but I'll discuss that in a later post.

The Troll