Unnaming the NPCs

11th September 2014

'This is captain...' Oh dear, the GM doesn't know the name of an NPC off the top of his head and needs time to find the reference in the adventure. This can only feed in to our tendency to rename all NPCs to something we actually have a chance of remembering.


'Sausage?! Sausage?! If the other fellow is Commander Aardvark I'm storming out.'

Captain Sausage, as he is now known for what is probably only a cameo appearance anyway, bears the brunt of our attack, blows raining down on him in the first round of combat. 'He's badly wounded, but still standing.'

'I'm sure he'll be gone interfrastically.'

A Change From Mummy Rot

11th September 2014

'You pass the final hurdle, and approach the dragon's cave. Sulphur hangs heavy in the air, the sounds of breeding... uh, breathing...'

'The sound of breeding is not what you want to hear when entering a dragon's lair.'

'Let's send Duncan in first, wearing a fake tail and a bow in his hair. "Buggered by a dragon" would be a novel ailment to put on his character sheet for being absent.'

Backstabber Barbarian

4th September 2014

Travelling south, the day draws on. We could enter the Fire Forest of TPK, as we have spells that will let us endure the heat, but perhaps it would be better to spend the first night outside of the forest and save some of the magic. Thankfully, a farmhouse is located a short distance north of the forest, making it a good place to rest.

A woman meets us outside the farm, and invites us in after some pleasantries. We are introduced to her father, whose name is familiar to most of us. He is a spellcaster, notorious for supposedly dominating his wayward brother in to better behaviour in years gone by, prompting accusations that he was also dominating others citizens unrelated to him. Right or wrong, the rumours spread and the man was exiled from the city. For some reason, this pleases Thrak, who mutters something under his breath about this looking like another 200 gold pieces for him. A jab to the ribs shuts him up, but it may not be enough.

After the ambush a few hours ago, we carried on down the road and stumbled in to the ambushers' camp. In the now-abandoned camp, we found some personal effects, and some scrips which showed the ambushers to be slavers. I wanted to burn the scrips, because surely we'd have no use for them and wouldn't want them to be available to anyone else. No, said Thrak, we ought to take them so that we have a suitable disguise should we be stopped on the road. I acquiesced, and we held on to the scrips. The scrips signed on behalf of the Ragesian authorities, promising the bearer 100 gold pieces for every spellcaster handed over.

I think we need to watch our barbarian closely.

Barbarian Magic

4th September 2014

We survive the ambush, even though, or because, the party was split. Searching the bodies, one of the leaders looks like he has some pretty shiny equipment, certainly better than what the scouts were wearing. A chain shirt, a nice-looking weapon, a cloak that's apparently worth mentioning, all which prompts the call of 'detect magic!'

'Yep, they are magical, as are...'

'Hold on, did our dwarf barbarian just cast 'detect magic'?'

'Uh, it was a more of a suggestion?'

Why the Long Face?

4th September 2014

Ambushed! As we travel through a cliff pass of sorts, some loud bangs startle our horses. A couple of us manage to control our mounts, a couple don't, causing their mounts to sprint down the path away from the noise. As they do, a pair of half-orcs appear above us and start shooting.

We have no choice but to enter combat with the half-orcs, even though they have the advantage of height and range. One of the enemies shoots an arrow at our cleric.

'Are you in melee?'


'So the half-orc isn't getting penalised for firing in to combat?'


'So don't just stand there, punch your horse!'

It's Just a Name

4th September 2014

Out of the city, making our way to our destination along a road that hopefully isn't subject to many patrols. Just in case, our contact is taking us on a route that is rarely trod.

'I'm sure there's a good reason why we're planning to go through the Fire Forest of whatever it was.'

'The Fire Forest of TPK. No one knows what the initials stand for. Because no one comes out the other side. It'll be fine, though.'

It Takes Allsorts

21st August 2014

We get the case and the information inside, now we need to get it out of the city and to safe hands who know what to do with it. Getting out of a city that is somewhat sieged and being held to ransom won't be as easy as walking out of the gates at midnight, however.

Our contact with the resistance sets up a meeting with a councillor who can apparently get people out of the city somewhat legitimately. He's rather eccentric and awfully rich, and quite influential. As we are exchanging pleasantries, he shows us some of the paraphernalia that his house was preparing for the celebration of the new year, which has now been cancelled. This includes a load of weapons made of flowers, and dresses made of sweets.

'Well, if they're not going to be used...'

'No. We are not bloody walking out of the south gate, past the guards, wearing dresses made of Liquorice Allsorts! I know we aren't the best adventuring party in the world, and that most of our plans are shoddy, ill-considered nonsense, to say the least, but there is a limit, which definitely includes refusing to disguise ourselves as Bertie-bloody-Bassett!'

'I just wanted to eat some of them.'

Well Spoken, if not Well Read

21st August 2014

Aggar's mysterious voice is talking again, except this time we can all hear it. It wants the case that we've recovered, which we are fine with, but only after we've got what's inside the case, which the voice is fine with. The problem is that we can't open the case.

My terrible diplomacy works wonders, in a terrible way, and forces the issue. A glazed look comes over Thrak's eyes, and he is convinced that our best option to resolve the conflict is to just hand the case over. Not on our watch, mister. Salvador grabs the case from the table before Thrak can get his mits on it.

Our reluctance to give away the information we've fought for has the invisible voice reveal itself, as the imp attacks Salvador with his sting, wanting to take the case by force. The sting hits, piercing Salvador's skin, and poisoning him.

'I say, little fellow', says Thrak in response, 'that's very bad form'.

Best dwarf barbarian ever.

Running Away is Still the Better Option

12th August 2014

Inside the elven enclave, we've surprised the elf wizard leading us to the case we're after by ambushing and killing her. The surprise didn't last long. Now we've found the building where the case is supposed to be, and been let in all by following the voices in Aggar's head. No, it's not ideal.

Also not ideal is that we get in to the building by setting off a trap, which gets an alarm bell ringing. The celestial guard badgers growl at us for a bit, before our two critter killers despatch them with a little too much fervour.

There's no sign of the case on the ground floor, so up the stairs we go, my leading the way. I stop abruptly, seeing two elf fighters in chainmail appearing at the top of the stairs.

'This is the time to use the devastating spell you've been saving for this moment!'

'Disguise self?'

'Yep, as an elf.'

'An elf that's a good foot shorter than the shortest elf on record? I'm not sure that would be convincing. An elf child, on the other hand...'

'How about a mutant, disfigured elf?' says Thrak, making a callback to an entirely different adventure, and adventuring party. And race.

'You could pretend to be kneeling down', says Salvador.

'Or an elf that doesn't have any legs!' adds Aggar.

'Or—or—an elf child! I'm pretty sure one of us suggested that already. No wonder none of you are wizards specialising in illusions, you're freaking idiots.'

You Can't See Them

12th August 2014

We track the case we are after and find that it has been taken by elves, who want the information inside it for themselves. With a bit of diplomacy and compromise, we strike a deal to at least be able to see what is inside the case before they whisk it away to their lands.

The case has already been taken to an elven enclave within the city, which we are led to. The whole of the enclave looks like walls to us, but the elf leading us walks up to a certain spot, presses something that we couldn't see, and a door opens.

'Pah, elven secret doors', spits Thrak. 'Dwarf secret doors are better.'

'But they're generally just stone doorways, aren't they? Failing to put a door in the hole doesn't make it secret.'