Barrel Creek Brigade

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badams30
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by badams30 »

Way to go, Gorfus! Glad to see our man avenge his comrades. Hope his luck holds on.

JimboJimbo
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

badams30 wrote:
Mon Sep 26, 2022 6:31 pm
Way to go, Gorfus! Glad to see our man avenge his comrades. Hope his luck holds on.
Our man Gorfus may be looking to gain experience in a whole to category of 'Lucky' ;)

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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

Gorfus finishes the remaining zombies with his billhook while the others search the room. Brother Ned & Jenny Crumpet inspect stone burial urns, the cobwebbed lids still firmly in place. Though the cleric reseals his with a dull grunt, the warrior-woman gasps in amazement. A half-rotted sack hangs from her fist, its belly bulging with the shape of bundled coin.

“Gold!” she says.

The yellow metal spread across her palm reflects light across her face. For a moment, Gorfus can only concentrate on Jenny’s wide-spaced eyes, the expanse of her high forehead and the deep furrow in her chin.

“Beautiful,” he gasps.

“Yeah, and I bet there’s a load more tucked away in here,” she says, striding across the room and placing the bag in Gorfus’ handcart.

(Petunia – secret doors; 2/d6, success)

“Guys!”

The gnome stands by a wall, one tiny palm resting against the surface.

“Watch this!” she squeaks.

The small wizard sticks out her arm. A block depresses. Stone grinds on stone. A panel opens beside the woman.

“There’s got to be more gold in their!” Jenny gasps.

Gorfus grabs the handcart, billhook balanced on its edge.

“Get in line then, should we?”

“Great call, Gorfus. Everyone in formation. Keep your weapons ready,” Brother Ned orders.

Weapons in hand, the patrol moves deeper into the tomb. The swamp’s last traces splashes noisily under their boots. The air is humid and thick with the stench of decay. A wooden door, solid despite the heat and water, blocks their path.

“One second,” Petunia pipes, diving past shins to press her head against the door.

(Listen: 1/d6, success).

“Ooh, there’s something moving around in there. Bit grumbly too,” she says, darting back to Gorfus’ cart.

“Stand back then, Boys,” Jenny Crumpet grins.

(open door: 1/d6, success).

She waddles up to the door, her armour creaking. One solid kick splinters wood and shatters an ancient latch. The portal swings open.

The stench of death rolls from the chamber beyond.

“Grab your symbol, Cleric, there’s more dead in here.”

(No surprise. Party wins initiative 4:1)

“Solaris!” Brother Ned booms.

(Turn undead – 18. Success. 5/2d6 HD turned. RaW is 2d6hd of the ‘targetted type’ are turned. Targetted type? Clerics have to direct their deity to whatever classification of unholy abomination they want to be rid of? Weird. Keeps the encounter going, I guess).

A radiant corona shimmers around the holy man. It’s light burns bright. Two of the slobbering menaces cower, edging away from Ned’s righteous fury. His devout glow bathes the last one, illuminating the pustules that weep crusted fluid over its flesh.

“Come on then!” Jenny Crumpet barks, hurling her spear at the unfazed monstrosity.

(6 vs Ac 13, miss).

The wooden haft clatters against the far wall. Sores weep and flesh cracks as the creature grins.

(19, 15, 19 vs AC 13, x3 hits. Dam: (1,2,3) 6 vs 8hp)

Tiny boots clatter. Petunia darts into position between armoured legs, hurls her darts with exquisite accuracy. Each of the red-fletched missile strike the chest, ripping away flesh and releasing the stench of sickness.

“I wouldn’t go near that one,” the gnome squeaks.

Droning growls and slapping feet drown out the gnome’s warning. Faster than the others they’ve encounters, the zombie sprints with claws raised and mouth wide. Puss leaking from its filthy hide, it charges Jenny Crumpet.

(Gorfus – 20 (n) vs AC13, hit, dam 8 (crit) vs 2hp. Gorf’s boon is ‘Opportunist’; he gets a second attack on a nat 20. It’s a bit redundant this time around).

Heart slamming against his ribs, mouth twisted into a tight ‘O’, Gorfus leaps into the air. He drive his bill out and down, spearing the hooked blade over Jenny’s shoulder. The weapon strikes home, ripping art flesh and breast-bone. He jerks the weapon free, severing the zombie’s shoulders from its chest.

“Oh my!” Jenny blurts, raising a hand to her lips and starring at the fallen undead, “that was amazing!”

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merias
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by merias »

Just catching up on this... great stuff as usual. Rooting for Gorfus, would be amazing if he made it to 2nd level with those stats!

JimboJimbo
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

Hey guys! Glad you're still enjoying the adventure. I've got some things going on, so my posting schedule has had to cranked down a notch, but I'll try to get another episode up today.

(@merias I'll log in on my phone so I don't miss any of the Underdark excitement too).

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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

“This place is truly cursed,” Brother Ned says as Gorfus finishes the cowering undead with two brutal sweeps of his pole-arm.

“We must delve deeper and uproot this evil.”

He stands for a moment, armoured fingers stroking his square jaw. Eyes slightly narrowed, he turns to Petunia.

“Gnome friend, is it not true your people have the gift of cat-like hearing? Give us aid and listen at those doors?”

Giggling, Petunia sketches a bow before moving to the room’s eastern door. It is iron, and she winces as presses her ear against the cold iron.

(Listen: 1-2/d6. 6. fail)

Rubbing her slightly point ear, the gnome lass shrugs before moving to the second, wooden, portal.

(Listen: 1-2/d6. 3. fail)

“Nothing moving that I can hear,” she says, shrugging again.

The ecclesiast switches a glance between the portals, meets Jenny Crumpet’s stare and tips a nod at the iron door. Without response, the burly human woman stride to the threshold, braces a shoulder against the door and pushes.

Gorfus stands behind her, legs braced and billhook ready.

“Won’t budge, Ned,” Jenny grunts.

“Try again.”

Gorfus rests his bill against the wall, braces his shoulder against iron. He nods to Jenny. Together they slam their weight and strength against the door.

“Still nothing.”

“Didn’t even budge,” Gorfus adds.

(No roll. It’s magically locked).

Thoughts whirring visibly behind his eyes, Brother Ned draws his mace and gestures toward the second exit.

“Bolster your faith then, friends, we’ll go that way.”

Emboldened by their victory over the zombies, the heroes move through stone halls. A door looms large. Nothing can be heard within.

(Listen – Ned: 1/d6. Roll: 4. fail).

Jenny Crumpet’s right boot is an adequate key. The door swings open. Petunia’s light spills into a modest chamber. A simple altar adorns the room’s centre. Four figures kneel before the altar, hairless heads bowed in prayer. Before them, a fifth skeletal form stands with arms raised, as if beseeching the gods for blessings.

Gorfus wheels his cart and the gnome behind his armoured companions. Bone abrades bone as the skeletal priest turns its stare upon them.

(Patrol win initiative 5:3)

“Lord Solaris, burn away this taint of darkness!” Ned bellows.

(Turn undead: 18 vs 10. Success. 7/2d6 HD turned. I’ve never liked clerics. I like them even less today).

Fleshless automata freeze in place, jaw bones hanging limp as if aghast.

Spear clattering to the slabs, Jenny Crumpet snatches the hammer from her belt. Hunkered down behind her shield, she charges the clutch of skeletons.

(9 vs Ac 11. Miss).

The hammer swings in a wide arc. Its target cowers behind the blade of its sword. Luck of non-life angles the blade to deflect Jenny’s blow.

Gorfus lopes after Jenny. His toe catches his bill’s ferrule. He staggers, stumbles. The blade glitters as it falls.

(Gorf: 13 vs AC 11. Hit: 6 vs 3 HP)

Hard iron smashes through brittle bone. The skeleton crumbles.

Petunia looks at the skeletons, then at the tiny darts in her fist. Balancing on the cart’s edge, she shucks off her pack and delves insides.

Arms raised, the skeletal priest raises its hand. Wind whispers in the chamber’s corners. The stink of dust and death fill the air.

“Fight, my brothers!” Pinpoints of ochre light flare in its depthless sockets.
(Command undead: 14 vs 7. Success. They need clerics in the skeleton war, right?)

Breeze rising to a howling wind, the three skeletal warriors stand strong. Iron blades gleaming in clawed fists, the trio throw off their terror. Cackling laughter echoing from fleshless throats, they move as one toward Brother Ned.

(1 (nat) ,12,20 (nat) vs AC 16. Dam: 6 vs 6hp).

Their swords ring bell-like against Ned’s metal carapace. Unholy rage powers each falling sword. Ned cowers behind his shield, reaches for the mace at his hip. A blade catches him on the temple. The cleric falls.

“Ned?”

Petunia’s voice is crushed beneath the wave of furious cackling.

(Round 2:)

Jenny Crumpet, silent and cold, throws her weight behind her shield.

(2 vs AC 11. Miss).

Empty eyes boring into her own, her skeletal target laughs in her face as it pirouettes from her path.

Gorfus swings at the robed skeleton.

(9 vs AC 11, miss).

The blade goes wide, strikes sparks from stone.

Ancient words of power spill from Petunia’s lips. Tremors rip through her tiny hands. Smoke wafts from the parchment she holds, becomes a smoulder then a blaze.

Arcane drifts from the burning scroll, forms into a jagged thorn. Casting soft green light on all it passes, the missile slams into the undead preacher.

Bone trembles from the impact before a mystical explosion blasts the cleric to dust.

(Magic Missile: 5/1d4+1 vs 5hp. Dead).

Black robes drop to the ground. Spectral laughter twists to howling rage. Swords high, two remaining skeleton turn on Jenny Crumpet.

(12, 13,17 vs AC 16. 1 hit 2 vs 6hp. Only ).

She blocks with her stout shield, whips her hammer in a warding arc. A blade penetrates her defences, draw blood from her cheek.

(Round 3:)

The hot line bites her cheek. Jenny’s limbs shake with fury. Teeth sinking into her lower lip, she lurches forward, swinging her hammer at an ivory
skull.

(13 vs AC 11. Hit. Dam: 4 vs 2hp. Drop & Chop).

Powdered bone fills her lungs, but she is not done. She sweeps her left arm, driving her shield into fleshless ribs.

(15 vs AC 11, Hit. Dam: 2/d4 vs 6hp)

Ribs shatter under the assault, forcing the skeleton back a step.

Close behind, Gorfus lunges with his bill.

(15 vs AC 11. Hit. Dam: 5 vs 4HP).

Iron blade slips between gaping ribs. Beaked hook snares the monster’s spine. The fool twists, yanks on the weapon’s pole. Bone and dust crumble.

Arcane might spills from Petunia’s outstretched hand, slams into the last pile of withered bone.

(Magic Missile: 3/d4+1 vs 2hp.)

Bones fall silent, motionless.

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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

(Sorry for the delay, foks. Had a bit of drama this past month or so. hence my ghosting you. Bureaucratic joys of this falling kingdom will probably keep my output slow for a while longer).

“Ned!”

The stink of ozone and burnt metal still clinging to her in a miasma, Petunia Bong leaps from the cart. She presses a hand against Brother Ned’s neck, holds a palm above his lips.

“He’s still breathing. Fetch my pack.”

Billhook tight in his fist, Gorfus rushes to his cart, does as directed. Eyes wide, weight braced against his staff, he can’t help the sobs burbling in his throat as the gnome does her work.

Tiny fingers pull strands of fabric from the pack. She winds the bandages around Ned’s head and neck.

“Come on, Holy Boy,” she whispers.

(Bandaging: 3/1d4-1 healed).

“Solaris be praised,” Ned mutters, even before his eyes flicker open.

Gorfus grips the handle of his simple cart. White knuckles creak as Jenny Crumpet crouches beside the reclining cleric. Something pulls at the lining of his gut as the woman palms blood from Brother Ned’s brow.

“Are you okay?” she asks, waving bloodied fingers before his eyes.

“Solaris has work for me yet, it seems,” the handsome cleric says, gently taking her wrist and moving it from his face.

“But my stumble may have been a sign. Perhaps it is time to rest? Even the great Solaris must break from the sky each day.”

“Before we bed down, look at this!”

Petunia stands by the altar, arms laden with coin and gold. A golden sceptre glitters in her fist. Jewels shine from the face of a finely wrought amulet.

“Solaris’ blessing is truly great this day,” Brother Ned says, “Now, lets eat, pray, and sleep.”

(Three watches taken. Brother Ned is to sleep through the night with each of the others taking a watch. Wandering monsters for 3 watches: 5,3,3. No Monsters)

(After a full night’s rest, the team have all spells back. Brother Ned is kicking around on 4 hp, which is only 2 off his max of 6).

Gut rumbling, Gorfus dips into his pack, pulls out a spread of rations. He places a packet by each of his companions before gently nudging them from slumber. He’s a touch less gentle with Jenny Crumpet. Her strong features and they way her hair flutters with each rasping snore makes his cheeks warn and his heart skip.

“Our Lord blessed us with a quiet camp,” Brother Ned beams, barely wincing as he sits up and unwraps his bundle of dried food, “and with fine victuals in this cursed place.”

They take breakfast quietly, don their armour and ready their gear. Two unopened doors stand in the room’s western wall. There is nothing to distinguish one from the other.

“The left-handed path leads away from Solaris’ light,” Brother Ned intones, tipping his mace toward a door.

“It’s as good a choice as any,” Jenny Crumpet agrees.

(Is the door locked? 3, no).

Ned & Jenny raise their shields. Gorfus & Petunia take their places behind. Billhook ready to prune anything that comes from behind the door, Gorfus swallows down the bile burning his throat.

The door swings inward on creaking hinges. A stink of damp and mould waft out a cool breeze. Petunia’s lamp makes shadows dance in the room’s corners. Mildew-slick stones gleam in the glow.

“Looks clear to me,” Jenny Crumpet whispers, adjusting her grip on her spear.

“That it does,” Brother Ned replies, “but agents of the night fill the horrid place and may be hiding within.”

Crumpet nods. The two shield-bearers step over the threshold. Gorfus and Petunia follow.

A stone clicks beneath Jenny Crumpet’s boot. Ancient mechanisms grind behind stone blocks. Warrior training makes the woman raise her shield. Cat-like reflexes set her turning toward the whisper of disturbed air.

(All that waiting and I'm leaving you on a cliff0-hanger? What a swine I am! Also, I may have roped in a couple of the 5e group I game with into a (modified) S&W adventure that might just turn into a campaign. I'll start a new thread if it all goes to plan!).

JimboJimbo
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

(Since I've been missing the team and the forum, I squeezed another installment out for you guys at stupid-o'clock this morning).

(Scythe trap: 7 vs AC 16. Miss).

A wicked blade swing from a shadowed niche. Its rusted edge crashes against Crumpet’s shield. The time-chewed blade cuts a divot in the wooden disk then shatters against the iron boss.

“Whoa,” the woman grunts, rolling her head around her muscular neck, “that was a rush!”

Gorfus switches his gaze from the pendulous blade, to the missing chunk of Jenny Crumpet’s shield, then back to the blade. He swallows the boulder forming in his throat, drags his arm across his sweat-damp brow.

“That was close, Ms Crumpet. Lucky you’re so good at fighting.”

Words burning his lips, cheeks flushed deep scarlet, Gorfus gives a strangled cough before turning his cart.

“The other door then?”

Embarrassment boiling his brains, Gorfus can’t really focus on Brother Ned’s voice. His hand cart squeaks and bounces across uneven flagstones until its stops before the unexplored door. Gorfus drags a palm across his sweaty brow, reaches for its time-greened bronze ring. He twists it open, pushes his barrow over the threshold. Deep in his mind, the voice that screams at him to run from Jenny Crumpet breathes a sigh of relief.

“Whoa!” Gorfus gasps.

He doesn’t really see the damp flagstones and mildewed walls. Creaking armour and stamping feet are lost to him, unable to penetrate the hypnotic shroud that settle over his mind. Eyes glimmering in its pearly glow, he stares at the giant black crystal that hangs suspended in the air.

“Gorfus, don’t do it!”

The fear in Jenny’s voice makes him glance over his shoulder. Her face is paler than he’s seen it before. She stands by his barrow & billhook, shield close to her chest and spear tight in her fist. She looks good, he thinks, but wonders how she got his cart and weapon without noticing.
A dull hum catches his attention. He turns to face it. The enormous black gem hangs before him, barely two-feet away. Its glowing surface looks warm, soft despite its mineral composition. His fingertips brush the cool, dark surface.

The brilliant purple flash makes her flinch behind her shield. She squeezes her eyes tight enough to force tears. Her knuckles creak around the spears haft. A shiver rips through her muscles, makes her legs threaten to buckle. Her ears ring from the unhallowed scream that echoes through the stony chamber.

The shrill cry twists into gurgling moans. Snapping bone and a liquid slurp take its place. The stench of ozone, sulphur, and opened viscera clog her throat.

“Gorf?” She whispers, peering around the edge of her shield.

“Gorfus?”

“By Solaris’ blinding light, what foul play is this?”

Jenny throws a glance at the cleric, sees her own confusion mirrored on his handsome face. She glances back to the spindly, clumsy Gorfus, feels a wave of confusion slam into her brain.

The creature before her drags a hand across its jutting brow. Thick ropes of muscle bunch and knot beneath tanned, leathery skin. It scratches at a thatch of auburn bristles sprouting from its solid lantern-like chin. Saliva glistens on the single tusk jutting from the left corner of its lower lip.

“What’s wrong, Mizz Crumpet?” the seven-foot-tall creature rumbles, “and why’s my britch so tight?”

“Foul ogre,” Ned barks, mace extended, shield clutched close to his body, “I demand you return our boon companion of face my Lord’s blazing wrath!”

“Wait a moment, Brother Ned,” Petunia’s voice pips.

The gnome lass scampers across damp flags. Her leather boots make barely a sound. She draws herself up to the ogre, her tousled hair barely reaching the hollow navel exposed by his ill-fitting armour. Hands on hips, the gnome takes a long, hard look at the towering brute.

“At the foot of the bridge to Barrel Creek, you said you lost your first wizard. Tell me what did the killing.”

A single finger scratching its auburn beard, the monster ran its leathery tongue across its solitary tusk.

“Uh,” it grunted, tugging at the fabric bunched around its crotch, “octopus done it. We was eating lunch and it ripped poor ol’ Tobin to pieces. It got it though, got it good with me hook.”

Petunia feels a wall of disturbed air slam into her face as the creature thrusts a hand at Jenny Crumpet and the billhook resting on the hand cart beside her.

“Then the dead took Belle and Felinda.”

Dark shadows fall across the ogre’s face. Reaching down, he gently nudges Petunia from his path. With a pair of loping strides, he crosses the room and snatches up his pole-arm.

“And we’re ‘ere to make sure the dead don’t kill no more of me mates.”

“Well it’s him,” Petunia squeaks, “it appears our dear Gorfus has been transmogrified by some kind of thaumaturgic prestidigitation!”

(I should probably explain myself about now. I rolled a special room on this one, thought a gem of metamorphosis using the magic-user reincarnation table would be a blast. Technically, a 16 on the dice meant Gorfus should morph into an ogre, but I remembered the half-ogre race stats in Tome of Horrors Complete and went with that. Since he has a new body, I re-rolled his physical stats so he’s now a competent (though level-limited) fighting man. He’s also a touch dumber, but I doubt anyone will notice).
(Why did he reach out and touch the diamond? Firstly, he has a wisdom of 8, so he probably would have done so anyway. Secondly, remember that failed saving throw right back at the beginning when the team first opened Sinvo’s Ossuary? Poor old Gorfus is carrying a curse that won’t be broken until the Ossuary is cleansed of malignant powers).

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merias
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by merias »

Those specials are fun! I suspect it could have been much worse for Gorfus, he might actually have a better chance of survival as a half-ogre.

JimboJimbo
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Re: Barrel Creek Brigade

Post by JimboJimbo »

merias wrote:
Tue Nov 15, 2022 5:24 pm
Those specials are fun! I suspect it could have been much worse for Gorfus, he might actually have a better chance of survival as a half-ogre.
Couple of specials in this one. The next is a real doozie.

And yep, you'd think Gorfus' metamorphus (couldn't help myself) would extend his lifespan, but he is the fool who smashed the seal!

Anyway, not long to wait before you can find out what happens!

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