Speak With Weasel

24th July 2014

'Help! Help! My baby is missing!' Another citizen in distress, as sections of the city are burning and there is panic in the streets. We must help him.

'Cat or dog?'


Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. We can still help. I cast speak with animals and start calling out in weasel for the weasel not to be alarmed and to come back to the comforting embrace of his owner.

A quick fluke on a diplomacy check, and a weasel comes running from somewhere and up his owner's trouser leg, probably. Now Lord Brewswain Iounman Cumbersnatch III must away! There are more citizens in need of rescuing this dire evening.

Starting to Fulfil my Destiny

24th July 2014

The city is on fire! We sort of learn what the weird noises were, and why a few of our ambushers were alight, when we escape capture and flee outside to see many houses on fire. Some large, flying creatures appear to be setting light to the city, or are at least assisting.

We have to get to our next contact if we are to aid the resistance, but making our way through the streets passes many people in need of assistance. We can't say no, not to the man who is badly burnt and falls unconscious nearby.

Aggar heals the man, bringing him back to consciousness, at which point the man asks us to take his children to the safety of the temple. Of course we can do that.

Further down the road, a woman is screaming out of a third-floor window, the whole building in flames below her. A bit of quick thinking and improvisation gets a blanket stretched out by some strong volunteers, mostly our party. We encourage the woman to jump, she does, and she is caught safely in the blanket.

Another citizen saved. Now Lord Brewswain Iounman Cumbersnatch III must away! There are more citizens in need of rescuing this dire evening.

Karma at Work

24th July 2014

As the fight continues, our new ally, the contact for the resistance, starts to cast a spell. No one in our party recognises the spell, perhaps because our fearless gnome illusionist has ducked out of the side door and is pretending to be a barrel for survival purposes. It's working so far, but it means the rest of the party doesn't know what's about to happen.

It is perhaps unfortunate that our ally looks familiar, the miniature plucked from the box being the one used long ago in a different adventure. Our current GM was not present for that adventure, and so doesn't know the history of that miniature, the character it stood in for turning out not to be our friend, as promised, but a glamoured Erinyes devil who inevitably betrayed us.

The familiarity and history of the figure is having an effect, more on the GM of that old adventure than the rest of us, apparently. Now playing Thrak the barbarian, the mistrust that he instilled in us with every NPC betrayal is working at his psyche. Offered a saving thrown against our resistance ally's spell, he accepts, saving against the spell's effects. The spell, as it turns out, is bless.

Both Salvador the duskblade and Aggar the cleric gain a bonus +1 on a few rolls, including attack rocks. Thrak goes without. So it goes that, a couple of rounds later, Thrak attacks a prone opponent. His barbarian class, chosen weapon, and swinging at someone on the floor means that 'as long as I don't get a 3 I'm going to hit.' He rolls a 2.

Oh, if only he didn't seed such paranoia within our little group when GM, he may have taken that bless spell in the spirit with which it was given.

Cut Down Like a Dog

24th July 2014

We connect with a contact in the resistance, but our meeting place is rumbled. We find this out when we hear a voice outside the front door commanding someone, probably multiple someones, to burst in. A massive thud signals our first taste of action in the threatening war.

Not only does the front door get bashed open, a few other people armed with saps run down the stairs. For some reason, they're screaming and one is on fire. Never mind, we have to get out of here.

The two people at the front door are despatched easily enough, and the two behind us are held in place. The leader, still outside, sends his dog in to attack.

Salvadore, bane of all animals, uses his glaive to hit with an attack of opportunity as the dog rushes snarling in to the building, narrowly missing a critical strike but still cutting down the dog brutally before it even gets close. This kind of slaughtering of innocent creatures comes naturally to our duskblade.

'It's just a shame he didn't get to cast colour spray on the beast first.'

Classic High-Int/Low-Wis

24th July 2014

An army is marching on our town that happens to be situated in a strategically good pass. Word reaches the town that the army has sent a vanguard of inquisitors, whose intent is to root out any and all spellcasters hostile to the new empire.

'If I were a spellcaster, I'd be worried about this', says Thrak the barbarian.

I'm glad he pointed that out to me, as being a wizard with a high innate intelligence I had trouble working it out for myself.

Ultramarine Nob

10th July 2014

At the top of the spire is an Ork Nob, heavily armoured and looking to be controlling the transmission equipment sending out the Ork signal that we are here to halt. We see him, he sees us. We fight.

In the skirmish, the Nob pulls out his rifle, aims, and presses a button on the side. A small rocket swings in to position and launches.

'The good news, Brother Democritus', says Lucian, 'is that you're in cover'.

'No, the good news it that he's shooting Brother Gadriel.'

Stuck in a Lift

10th July 2014

Clearing the bottom floor of the spire is just the first step. Thankfully, we find not one but two ways to get further up: a lift and an escalator. With Ultramarine Brother Lucian in command, naturally we take the lift.

Of course, since we didn't manage to turn the alarms off before we started the lift's ascent, the lift shudders to a halt about half-way up the shaft, somewhat stranding us.

'We should have taken the escalator.'

'I dunno, if they've been stopped too we'd still be stuck.'

Tech-Use Support

10th July 2014

Alarms are blaring in the spire, possibly because we're assaulting it. An Ork voice comes on an intercom, in Low Gothic, getting frustrated about this being another one of so many pointless drills.

Sensing the opportunity to save us some bother, Brother Democritus uses his technical abilities to try to turn the alarms off, to make it look like it really was just another pointless drill.

As it turns out, Democritus has the Tech-Use skills of a gnome, resulting in him pressing all the buttons multiple times in random order. Oddly enough, this doesn't just end up in failure to stop the alarm, it also locks him out of the system. 'Damn.'

Democritus puts in a help-desk call. 'Uh, hi. My account is locked-out, I need to reset the password.'

'Okay, we've done that for you. Your new temporary password is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!'

Democritus sighs. 'How many 'A's is that? And which one has the umlaut to satisfy the requirement for a special character?'

Further Reducing the One Hundred

3rd July 2014

The second watchtower is silenced. We move up the mountain to the next bend in the path, where the second fortress stands. Rather than the lackadaisical approach to security seen at the first fortress, there are actual guards guarding this one. Two of them, standing outside the entrance. We'll just have to mount a full-out assault if we hope to prevent them raising a general alarm.

The three of us not in noisy armour creep up as close as we can, and once we think we can't get any closer we attack. Gowan the Bone Harvester and I loose arrows at the two guards, and Toogood rushes in and accidentally decapitates one of them. The first, stuck with a couple of not-very-damaging arrows, panics and rushes in to the fortress. We'd better follow.

I charge in, stabbing the guard with an arrow, and find myself in the middle of some unarmoured members of the One Hundred pushing barrels around. Whatever floats your boat, weirdoes. The slaughter starts here. Well, with Toogood charging in behind me, anyway, after Gowan rushes in to the corner and disables the alarm bell.

Some manoeuvring and plenty of stabbing and slashing cuts down the eight guards without much fuss, and we move towards the sleeping quarters. We're fairly sure where they are, assuming the layout of this fortress is similar to that of the first. Indeed, Farrel pulls open the door to see some disorganised and sleepy guards in their pyjamas. Poor them. It takes another ten seconds to cut them down too.

There's one more main room, the mess. We open the door to that to see a couple of sergeants cooking stew. That's peculiar. What was their thought process when hearing the shouts, weapon clatter, and blood-gurgling death throes? 'This stew needs more salt'? Either way, now that they see us they are reaching for their weapons.

'You notice that one of the sergeants is clean and neat, the other is scruffy and has stew stains all over him.'

'I smell a sitcom!'

But before we can get them standing back-to-back, arms crossed, saying 'this guy' to each other, they have their weapons and stride up to the door. 'Surrender, you fools!' says the first.

We glance back at the dozen corpses behind us, all twenty-second fresh, and us with barely a scratch. 'Did he just say "we surrender, you fools"?' Apparently not, as he swings his mace at Farrel. More fool them, as they'll soon just be two more corpses of the One Hundred. They'll have to think about changing their name after we're finished.

Like a Natural

3rd July 2014

One fortress cleared, one watchtower sorted. We continue to the next corner in the path, where a second watchtower is constructed. Toogood and I sneak up, silent as you like, and get to the rope ladder underneath. Now to see if we can catch them by surprise.

'Make Move Silently checks.'

'Natural 20.'

'Natural 20.'

'Well, damn. But I hope you realise that means it will all be downhill from here.' Not true! We're going up the mountain to see the dragon.

Needless to say, we get the drop on the two guards in the tower. Toogood goes up first, climbing the rope and getting in-between the guards. 'Where do you want to position yourself?'

'I want to interpose myself in the watchtower between the guards and the warning bell.'

'So... you want to aim for the bell-end?'