Split-Party Cut-Scenes, Off-Stage Events and Spare Characters. Just another day DMing Earthshaker.

We've come to an interesting situation in the game tonight.

First of all, several characters were reduced to negative hit points, and, although they survived and have undergone magical healing, will now be out of play for several days. This means they will not be out of action for some considerable time while they heal. Their players have presently taken on the roles of the Trog guides (and are doing a marvelous job of role-playing them too, I might add).

Like most of my fellow Old School Bloggers, I believe very strongly in the idea that the game world should not revolve solely around the actions of the players. There are multiple factions on the island, each with their own agenda and their own timetable. The player characters might disrupt these activities (intentionally or otherwise) but these plots won't necessarily rely on the actions of the players. Or even (at least initially) include the PC's as a factor to be considered. After all, how could they? Most of the factions on the Island don't even know the PC's are there yet. This brings is to the second interesting situation that arisen: a very major campaign event is about to occur which will directly effect the player characters. Only it's happening in a location that MOST of the current PC's aren't anywhere near.

Third,  I stopped the session right in the middle of the dungeon, rather than ending it back at camp like I usually do. This is because our time ran out at a cliff-hanger I just couldn't ignore: when the PC's first encounter the Shroom in his lair. This complicates things somewhat. While most of the players booked in for next Friday have characters in or near the Caves that can participate in the boss fight, others will not. Seeing as I personally regard allowing someone else play my characters in my absence with abject horror (at least in an Old School game) I'm not about to let any-one play someone else's character either.

How then, am I going to keep everyone involved in the game?

Tonight, I gave everyone present the task of the creating their spare character. I'll also contact the other players on facebook and advise them to do the same. While most of the players (and their primary characters) will be fighting the Shroom, the spare characters will be actively engaged in the major event happening elsewhere. By cutting back and forth between the caverns and the major event every few rounds or so (at dramatically appropriate moment) every player present next Friday should have at least one character actively engaged in the session.

I"m also going to rule that anytime a character has to recover from being taken down to negative hit points, rather than playing an NPC like Sparious, the player takes over their spare character temporarily. Rather like the old Character Tree system in 2nd ed Darksun, it means that the player can continue to accrue XP that benefits the player, rather than XP that only benefits an NPC.

It's been a while since I've ran a big cut-scene with two major battles running simultaneously. In fact, I think both of the last two occasions have been during Star Wars campaigns where ground combats and space combats were going on at once. I'm rather looking forward to it. Going by the players reactions last time, they were an absolutely huge success that left all involved (including me) with an awesome buzz at the end of the session.

Let's hope we can repeat that success this time round.

Appendix: Instructions for creating your spare character.

• At the moment, your spare character must be human. Once (if) the PC's make friendly contact with non-humans of a player character race, the option to create a non-human PC will become open again.
• You can choose any class or multi-class combination open to humans under the House Rules.
• The spare PC starts with a quarter of your main characters current XP. 
•  Don't bother selecting any equipment. You probably won't start with any -although there are a few spare weapons lying around back at the Temple (mostly stuff made by Thoht and Andros) which you might have access to. The reason the main characters are the most active members of the group is because they have all the best gear available. After next Fridays session, you're spare characters will only be able to use equipment which they find themselves or which is donated to them by another PC.

Death in Darkness: Session VI of the Isle of the Earthshaker Campaign

We had out first character death last Friday and, in the finest traditions of D&D gaming, it was death by poison. Read on.

Character Roster:

Exploring the Caves (players present):

Ailil Shadowdancer: Elf Male Assassin/Illusionist 2/1. Played by Ridh
Alexis: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Played by Larraitz
Andros: Human (Mycenean) Female Fighter 2. Played by Aimee
Boagris: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 2. Played by Silv.
Euthalia: Human (Mycenean) Female Cleric 1. Played by Caroline
Glykeria: Human (Mycenean) Female Illusionist 1. Played by Elle
Ki Oman: Human (Zaman) male Dual Class Assassin 1/Bard 1. Played by Ali
Thera: Human(Mycenean) Female Paladin 1. Played by Niall
Thot: Half-Elf Male Magic User/Cleric 1/1. Played by Rob
Xenos: Human (Mycenean) Fighter/magic User 1/1. Played by Leoni.

Guarding the Camp (absent player and NPCs):

Thanatos: Human (Mycenean) Male Assassin 2. Played by Fiona
Surly: Troglodyte Guide. NPC.
Friendly: Troglodyte Guide. NPC.

Temple of Meerax, Garrison (absent players and NPCs):

Antipater: Human (Mycenean) Ship's Master. NPC.
Kallisto: Human (Mycenean) Female Fighter 1. Played by Jackie

Minerva: Human (Mycenean) Female 0 level Priestess of Heastia. NPC

Peliakos: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Played by Coakley

Sparios: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Spare Character.

Plus 15 other assorted, unnamed survivors of the wreck (the replacement PC pool) all presently recovering from injuries.

Their expedition having uncovered a considerable amount of information, and slain some powerful foes, the six scouts return to the camp that night, share their findings with the rest of the group and quickly descend into sleep. Meanwhile, the rest of the expedition keep watch.

Shortly after dawn, Alexis, who left the Temple several hours later than the main body, arrives complaining of a cold camp in the company of the friendliest of the two younger troglodytes from the first  conference with the Trog Elder. Alexis reports that the old Trog seems somewhat put out that Ki Oman neglected to leave his bag of human teeth behind -and is quick to add that he had not been too pleased himself either. Fortunately, Alexis had managed to avoid the field expedient of giving up one of his own pearly whites for the Trog's potion in favour of knocking the teeth out of a dead sailor's skull instead.

Alexis goes on to explain her presence. TheTrogs had brought word that the Grey Demons (as the party took to calling them after encountering one in the temple kitchens) have been active in the area around the Temple. The Trogs need the party to re-double their efforts in clearing the caves. Leaving the two Trogs and Thanatos behind to guard the camp-site, the characters return to the dungeon early that morning.

On this occasion their explorations are slowed somewhat by the notable absence of the fungus ropes at the first waterfall -proof positive that something intelligent is aware of their previous intrusions. At the second waterfall Ki Oman is so concerned about the possibility of the chute being trapped that he chucks a rock down it. The loud clatter of stone-on-stones echoes loudly for a few moments, just audible under the dull roar of the small waterfall. A few tense moments pass while the rest of the party alternates between glaring at the Bard and listening intently for sounds of approaching guards. After a good few minutes of careful listening they proceed on  their way.

[Later, Shadowdancer hit-the-nail-on-the-head when they wondered if all that fungus, moss and algae coating the floor and walls ininsulated the noise]

The party's first-destination is the Blue-Goop room. Various spear-shafts, daggers, poles and even shields are dipped into the strange liquid in order to preserve the groups limited supply of torches (the goop from previous expeditions having ceased to glow sometime during the night). They return to the partially explored corridor with the narrow, twisting side-tunnel leading to the treasure horde. Here, Shadowdancer and Ki Oman declare their intention to ensure that nothing has moved into the cavern since their last visit. Glykeria, having had a dream during the night about the three darts fired by the stone chest trap (due to her daily use of her "Oracle" professional skill), insists on coming along.

Again, it takes the three explorers about ten minutes to twist, contort and squeeze themselves through the confining tunnel. Upon reaching their destination, Ki Oman and Shadowdancer are satisfied that nothing has changed in their absence. Glykeria reaches immediately for the three darts.

"Stop!" Shadowdancer and Ki (once again) shout a warning in unison at a companion. "Don't touch those" Ki continues," don't you see the poison?"

Glykeria scoffs, "Don't be stupid. I'm going to hold them by the shaft. Who'd poison the shaft."

Again the two proven trap-detectors try to stop her, but eventually they wash their hands of the whole matter.

"Be my guest then." Says Ki Oman.

"Fine you fool. If you want to die, who am I to stop you." Snaps Shadowdancer.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH" shrieks Glykeria,
who, having touched the tip of a single finger to the shaft of a dart, howls her agony as first her finger, then her whole hand, begins to blacken and slough off from the bone.

Ki and Shadowdancer act quickly, one fabricates a improvised tourniquet and tyes it tight around the Oracle's arm. The other cuts deep along the length of the forearm with a dagger, hoping that the poison will spurt out of her blood stream. But what spurts forth from the wound is decidedly NOT what either of them expected. A host of bloated, swollen maggots, each the size of a diseased and malnourished grape, spill forth from the open wound, wriggling onto the floor where they dissolve into an oily goop. Seeing this the horro pouring forth from her veins, the doomed Oracle screams all the harder.

Ki Oman, shouting: Euthalia! Hurry! We Need you!"

At the other end of the twisting corridor, Euthali is already moving, shrugging off her pack with the help of Thera. But it will take valuable time for the priestess to reach them, even moving swiftly enough (as she does) to risk injury, cuts, and scrapes while she forces herself through the narrow passage.

Inside the treasure cavern, Shadowdancer desperately tries to hold the struggling prophetess down while Ki Oman unsuccessfully tries to saw through her arm at the elbow. Alas, he is too slow and the corruption moves up past the elbow. In desperation, he prepares to lop the girls arm off at the shoulder. Shadowdancer, in what his companions might consider a surprising display of compassion, dispassionately casts colour-spray on the screaming girl. "There! Cut now before she wakes!"

Ki Oman's second surgical attempt is more successful. With the girl no-longer writhing beneath his blade he is able to saw through the arm before the corruption spreads to her torso and neck. Yet now she lies, unconscious and unmoving, on the sodden, mossy floor. Bleeding out.

"EUTHALIA!" Shadowdancer shouts.

But the priestess of Haera is forcing her way down the passage as best she can. Her fine garments, already soiled from her experiences since the shipwreck, are torn to pieces. Her fingernails and smooth, unbleamished skin torn ragged and bloody from clawing at the rough stone. While Ki Oman and Shadowdancer desperately strive to control the bleeding, Euthalia is fighting a battle no less noble -and ultimately, no less futile- of her own.

The priestess pulls herself from the narrow entrance, collapsing beside the prophetess. The healing magic of her calling already emanating from her hands in a deep, warm glow. Yet the light rebounds from the lifeless corpse, Glykeria's lungs giving up their death rattle even as the cleric places her hands upon the oracle's chest. It's too late. The girl is dead.

[It normally takes a turn for a PC to crawl from the main corridor to this treasure area, due to the many twists and turns of the passage. I allowed Euthalia to move twice as fast if she was willing to take damage in the process. The player agreed without hesitation and plunged in. That meant she could make it to Glykeria's side in five rounds. This was significant, because, after being taking damage twice from Ki Omans surgery, Glykeria was on -5 hit points. It would all come down to the initiative roll. In my games, cure light wounds has a casting time of 0. Glykeria rolled a 3. Euthalia rolled a 2. And so we had our first PC death of the campaign. Glykeria's dream had been a warning, not an instruction]

The three PC's in the treasure room each cope with the loss in their own unique way. Euthalia prays for Glykeria's shade. Ki Oman mutters a (brief) prayer and then suggests that "Euthalia should head back and tell the others."

Shadowdancer seethingly gazes at the corpse, muttering "idiot" under his breath and shrugging carelessly while he waits for Euthalia to depart. He then cheerfully joins  Ki Oman to loot the body. The two assassins turn their consideration to the matter of the poison itself. Luckily, both men, though spattered by Glykeria's tainted blood, have been wearing gloves, though Shadowdancer himself been careful not to touch the wounds or the blood. They experiment with wiping the poisonous blood off Ki Oman's knife, using the ubiquitous moss and fungal growths coating the walls as a sponge. To their horror (and delight) everything living thing the poisoned blade touches suffers the same horrific corruption as Glykeria herself. Even trying to scrape the stuff off the blade and onto the stone chest itself does not clean the blade. Though the un-living stone is not harmed by this magical substance, the residue that remains after a thorough scrapping continues to prove horrifyingly toxic. Ki Oman and Shadowdancer grin widley as they contemplate the myriad uses for such a toxin.

Then they consider the the obvious question: How do they intend to transport the stuff? After all, the only vessels the party are carrying are either leather waterskins or are improvised from clay or copper pots sealed with cork. Wisely, the two assassins concede that this little toxin is not worth the risk of transporting. They methodically -and carefully- strip off their gloves, check themselves over for any traces left on their clothing and set about finding somewhere safe to keep the knife and the clay pot they scrape the remaining poison from the darts into.

[Safe being a relative term in the context of a fragile clay pot and a sharp, poison coated object hidden under a thin layer of rubbish. As I later commented, my  players had just invented Edarnia's first landmine].

Aware they cannot manouvre Glykeria's corpse down that twisting passage, they proceed to burn the body as best they could in the damp air and with the poor materials to hand.

[Alas, proper materials were not available and they botched the job. The party also failed to specify if they placed a coin into Glykeria's mouth to pay the Ferryman. Since Euthalia presided over the last rites, I'll presume that they did. So there's only a very small chance of something bad happening with the corpse.]

Returning to the others, the three dejected explorers break the news to the rest of the party. Thera pales visibly memory of the previous days events in that same chmaber still fresh in her mind. Had Shadowdancer and Ki Oman not warned her about touching anything.... the Paladin, immune to fear as she was, still feels a shudder pass along her spine. She very openly, and publicly, apologises to Shadowdancer and thanks the two scouts for saving her life. Shadowdancer nods, accepts the apology and then forcefully proclaims that if any of the party want to leave the island alive they had best start listening to his advice.

In the meantime, Thoht offers preyers for his departed colleague in the faith and, seeing Ki and Shadowdancer burdened by Glykeria's goods, solemnly request custody of her more personal possessions.

Continuing down the corridor, the party become aware of a strange clattering noise ahead. A wooden box with a strange funnel atop it, a syphon leading out and with a drain on the bottom leading to a pool of water sits astride the stream of water flowing downwards in the cave. After some examination, the party become dubious about putting anything in the funnel, suspecting the device to be some form of sausage maker powered by water. It is quickly deduced that the noise could be caused by something trapped in the mechanism. While Thoht and Alexis puzzle and argue over how to open the box, Alexis simply pries the nails off one side and opens the box to reveal a gem caught in the mechanism, along with a number of rotten fish parts which were thrown out of the box by centrifugal force to splatter all over her. While the rest of the party ponder how to safely remove the gem from the whirring mechanism, Shadowdancer simply rolls his eyes, moves over to the irrigation channel feeding water into the mechanism and moves it to one side. While Thoht and Alexis continue to argue over how to retrieve the gem, Shadowdancer is already reaching into the box to retrieve the gem from the now stationary grinder.

The party's back-slapping lasts only a few moments however. Shadowdancer observes out that the grinder is now no longer making that loud clacking noise. Perhaps they had just been tricked into giving away their location.

[If only I was that devious. Still, that's an excellent suggestion to take on board for future dungeons. I tell you, player paranoia is my best resource when it comes to trap ideas].

They follow the passageway south, and come upon a strange chamber. Four cages made of ropey, green fungus hang from the ceiling. All are suspended from vines hanging from what appears to be a very large pod, similar to those encountered earlier, save for it's increased dimensions. A much larger water-powered grinding machine, this one large enough to cram a man down the funnel, dominates the centre of the room.  Three of the cages appear to be occupied. One lies empty. Thoht and Shadowdancer examine the room with their elf-vision from just outside the entrance, noting as they did so another corridor to the east and one on just of to their right (on the same wall as their own entrance) where they can just glimpse some activity. However, it is the inhabitants of the cages that they focus their gazes upon.

The closest cage holds the lithe shape of a perfectly proportioned female human, lying in a sleeping posture with her head against the bars. Due to the strange glow permeating the room, they are unable to make out more than the basic outline  of her body-heat back-lit against the colder texture of the fungal cage. The second holds a dwarf-shaped creature, the only one of the three evidently awake. Yet there is something distinctly odd about this dwarf. It's body temperature is painfully hot to the eyes. Neither elf-blood (though, no true blooded once-Shidhe like Shadowdancer would ever admit kinship with a half-human) like the way it bounces up and down, monkey-like in the cage. Reaching out to them, yet saying nothing. The third cage lies empty. In the fourth they can just make out the shape and body-heat of a large human- perhaps one as big as the mighty Boagris-  hunched in slumber.

The two elves report their observations to their companions. Immediately, a loud argument ensues regarding whether to rescue these prisoners or simply press on. Fortunately, Ki Oman has the presence of mind to peek round the corner to observe events in the "activity"what was happening up the other corridor. The one in which Thoht and Shadowdancer had reported seeing activity. With alarm, the Bard signals back that the corridor in questions ends in another pod-chamber, full of pods! And the pod-men inside who were already awake are opening up the other pods to rouse their fellows!

Just in time, the party arranges itself in four ranks to meet the charge, with every party member in the first two ranks armed with a spear, regardless of proficiency. Soundly winning initiative against the slow moving pods, every single spear-man with the exception of Andros and Thera are able to set to receive a charge. In a masterful display of phalanx tactics, Shadowdancer calls the timings for held actions and Ki Oman strategically chucks flaming oil. The party systematically mows down at least a rank of charging pod-men every round, before falling back to re-set spears and do the same thing all over again. It is a display to warm a Zaman Phalanxors stony-heart. The party of (mostly) first level characters and (mostly) novice player take down a dozen 3 hit dice creatures in just five rounds of combat without taking a single hit. In a near-perfect display of party tactics as well as the value of team-work and sound leadership, they completely destroy the foe in what was supposed to be a very difficult encounter.


[As a DM, it was a very proud moment. This was proper old-school gaming. Player skill kicking the ass of much tougher monsters than the PC's themselves.]

Yet they do not pause to congratulate themselves. Displaying yet more common sense, the party simply ignores the plaintive cries of the (now awakened and seemingly desperate) human-sized prisoners and the frantic jumping and hooting of the dwarf. Instead, they set a guard  upon the passage they came down, another on the passage heading east, and send some scouts into the Pod Room to check for any foes still sleeping in pods.

Back in the cage-chamber, a detect magic spell from Xenos reveals that while the cages radiate strong abjuration magic, there occupants radiate no magic at all. A few of the groups weapons and items also radiate enchantment magic, but there are no surprises there. The creature in the ceiling pod and the dwarf however, both radiate strong transmutation magic -and this has the party understandably worried. Finally, the pod itself radiates necromantic magic. Odd, considering that the pods in the next room glow with transformation energies.  Thera also opens up her senses, extending her ability to detect evil as far out into the caverns as possible. It's no surprise to her given the party's suspicions on the matter, that the dwarf radiates evil -something that, on Edarnia- suggests the dwarf might be a demon at the very least. He also sense something else. A presence just skittering on the edge of his detection range. The Paladin reveals both pieces of crucial information to the party.

Only then do they decide to talk to the prisoners, heading towards the least threatening one first. A sixteen or seventeen year old human female, a young woman of dazzling beauty, raven-dark hair, and a lithesome figure in perfect proportions calls out for their attention. Ki Oman quickly begins to dazzle her with his charms, carrying on the true Bardic tradition of putting his claim in before anyone else. The girl introduces herself as "Merethena, daughter of Merethena, daughter of Semet. Grand-Niece to the Bull Headed King of Thyatis. may he roar his rage forever." She less dramatically introduces the other human prisoner as Bombatta, her bodyguard.

Menethena, when pressed, confirms that this Thyatis she speaks of is a city on this very Island. She adds that the city itself lies not far to the east. Putting aside their many questions about the island for the moment, Ki Oman and the other questioners focus on trying to find out as much about the caverns themselves as possible.

They learn that the two Thayatians had been imprisoned in the caverns for some time. The dwarf has been here even longer -and has not spoken or attempted to communicate with either human, save to throw excrement- since their arrival. They have marked time by the visits of the "mushroom creature", who has appeared seven times to lower the pod in the ceiling and feed whatever lies within. Hence they estimate they have been here a week. The occupant of the third cage, a second bodyguard, wounded and weak, has already been fed into the grinder. His liquified remains fed to the pod above. They had feared they were to be next.


After some experimentation, the party finds that only obsidian objects will cut the cage bars. All other substances simply bounce off. [Thoht, by chance, had made a point of acquiring some sharp pieces of obsidian during the trip to the caves in session IV and cannily discovers that cut through the bars]. However, as soon as the blade passes through, the fungal bars flex and glue themselves together once again, [rather like the magical slave chain in Star Dust, only  with considerably less pleasant visuals]. Eventually, they hit upon the idea of using obsidian plugs to prevent regrowth of the bars. While it is a  long process, working in two teams they eventually free first the girl, then Bombatta.

Upon being released from her cage, the scantily dressed girl (wearing little more leather straps, a scandalous appearance for any Mycenean woman, let alone a girl of noble or even royal birth) leaps straight into the arms of a somewhat smug Ki Oman. Hardly surprising really, given that of all her rescuers, he is not only the hunkiest - having not only decent physical stats, but dashing good looks, a rakish eyepatch, good breeding, education and a charisma that tops the Paladins- but also the one who did the most talking.

It is clear from Bombatta's, low, throaty growl that the bodyguard does not approve of this behaviour -and lays the blame firmly at the feet of Ki Oman. Upon stepping from his cage, the bodyguard nods respectfully to Boagris, but fails to conceal a superior sneer when he turns his gaze upon the other warriors present. Bombatta makes a point of  introducing himself to Ki Oman. Even taking Ki Oman's wrist in a bone-crushing warriors clasp, before wrenching the Bard painfully into an embrace and whispering, "Touch her fool, and I'll tear out your balls and feed them to the Trogs". When he releases the bard from this bear hug, he is all smiles and good cheer. But his eyes -when directed upon Ki Oman- tell a different tale.

The party intriduces themselve, and while both the former prisoners try to hide it, a brief look of alarm passes between them when Euthalia intriduces herself as a cleric of Haestia. Thera, perhaps wisely, fails to mention that she is a paladin of Meerax, due to their brief reaction.

As for the dwarf, he is left to hop around in his cage for the time being. For once, the party are all in agreement. There's something not right about that dwarf. And it could mean trouble.

[We ended the session there, with the assumption that the group returned to camp to clean themselves up and glean more intelligence about the island- and the Trog Caves themselves- in relative safety. At least two of the players -more familiar with my home-brew campaign setting than the others- have their theories about the identity of these two characters. Or, at least, their cultural background. A few have also noticed details about their appearance and behaviour that the other PC's have not. Will they be able to put 2 and 2 together? Who knows? But I for one am very much looking forward to tomorrow nights session and the party's little chat with the prisoners.]


Thus ends day 7 of the Isle of the Earthshaker Campaign.

Oriental Adventures/Masks of Nyarlathotep Update

SANDBOX:
 After some humming and hawing as to whether or not I should simply create my own pseudo-Japanese nation from scratch or else borrow one of the maps for Kazakura from the Oriental Adventures box set, I've finally settled on a third option. Frankly, I'm just going to use a map of Japan complete with original province names and the names of major cities as my starting point. Runequest Ninja (a very fine supplement by the way if you can find it) provides an excellent map of the Provinces as they stood in the (I think) Tokugawa period.

This has the added advantage of allowing me to incorporate various Japanese geographical myths into the campaign world -for example, the legend of a pit leading directly to the Buddhist Hell in Izumi province makes Izumi the perfect stand in for one of the major adventure locations in Masks of Nyarlathotep.

However, rather than simply call the country founded on these islands Niwon or Nihon and use an "alternate earth Japan", I'm going to incoporate them into my home-brew campaign world, Edarnia and call them "Hisui no Shima", the  Jade Islands. Fortunately I've already established that Edarnia has an Underworld as well as dark, utterly alien Cthuluesque Gods even older than the Primordials who created Edarnia.  On top of that, the game world also has as well as a malevolent force of non-life known as the "Corruption (amoung other names)," an excellent stand-in for the Taint from L5R. However, I like the sound of "taint" so it looks like the corruption has acquired another cultural-cetnric name. I'll be tracking (and using) taint points in the same manner as Insanity points are used in Call of Cthulu, with the added bonus that an increasing taint score also results in increasing physical mutation. Hmm, echoes of Ravenloft here as well perhaps?

RELIGION:

Rather than having the traditional view of two main Japanese religions that exist concurrently and in relative harmony, Jeido Shoto will have just the one, the Hundred Million Kami. The religion will be mostly Shinto based, but will include a great many Buddhist elements. The main reasoning for this decision is that it will reduce the number of concepts a gamer unfamiliar with Japanese culture will have to adapt to. Hopefully, given how closely Shinto and Buddhism were integrated in Japanese culture, it won't be too big a change for the Japan-buffs in the group either.

AUTHORITY:

It might seem odd (and in fact, probably is given that I chose to simplify the religious situation on Jeido Shoto) but rather than going with RuneQuest Nija's recommended triumvirate of power (Emperor-Retired Emperor-Shogun) I'll be going with the puppet Emperor, Retired Emperor, puppet Shogun, Shikken model from later Japanese history. Although this power structure shouldn't feature too much in the Mask's campaign, I'm not putting so much effort into a campaign setting just to use it one campaign. I expect to get my mileage out of Hisui no Shima.

GREATER ASIA:

I've still to come up with names for the setting's analogue of China, which will be a major trade-partner and which will provide many NPC's and at least one adventure setting during the Masks campaign. However, Mongolia is easy enough. I'm taking the name "Burning Lands" from the L5R setting, which works well enough for me, and I'm going for it.

EZO:
Ezo, the northern-most of the Japanese Islands, was not particularly settled until the 15th century. Except by wako (pirates) renegades and Ainu (the indigenous inhabitants of Japan). Ezo seems to be an ideal stand-in for the Shadowlands of L5R , the Chaos Wastes of the Old World, the Blight of the Wheel of Time and about a dozen other settings combined. So that' what I'll use it for. The interior of the island will be a blighted wasteland of volcanic cloud, ash and a gateway to the Hell of the Hundred Million Kami. The coastal areas will be habitable, and home to a few hardy samurai clans and their retainers as well as a great many bands of ronin, wako and other renegades.

Peoples of Zama: Elves and Shidhe

Unlike the other Zama posts thus far, the information below is NOT common knowledge in the Zama campaign setting. In other words, if you're playing in my Earthshaker campaign, the only way your character will know this information is if your character happens to be an elf. If you aint no elf, you ain't got no clue.

An Exerpt from, "On the Un-Lives of the Eternal Shidhe"

"There are some who consider the Shidhe (and the once-Shidhe) arrogant beyond bearing. In many cases “they” are correct. Yet there are many mysteries concerning this race. Mysteries I shall attempt in some small part to reveal hereafter. Perhaps then “they” will finally understand that the Shidhe have just cause to be overbearing, proud and contemptuous of mortals.

Indeed, this behaviour is hardly surprising when one considers that of the teeming thousands of Shidhe who dwell within the Summerlands today, most can truthfully claim to be older than the Gods themselves. Or at least, that generation of Gods whom we mortals worship today. Indeed, there are many Shidhe still in existence who witnessed, with open mockery, the very birth of our world, Edarnia. Shidhe who poured derision upon the the efforts of the first Gods of Edarnia, those mankind know now as the Primordials, and their efforts to create something new and ever-lasting. For the Shidhe, immortal, eternal, unchanging, perceived theis, the very hubris of the Gods, as rank folly. No-one and nothing, not even the God's, claim the Shidhe, are truly immortal. Nothing save perhaps the Shidhe themselves . Ever patient, ever deceitful,  ever malevolent and mocking of mortals from behind their veils of still living butterflies -stitched together wing to wing- they are no true race as we mortals understand the word. They are in truth, a force of nature. A part of the universal anima itself. Their very existence a law of creation. Some among them -including their fickle and malevolent “deity,” the EverQueen - through subtle innuendo and half-truths, hint of bearing witness to the birth-pangs of the universe itself.

Having experienced such wonders, or heard them spoken of as  living memory, is it truly surprising that the Shihde seem as alien to mortals as we are to them? Mortals, Gods, even the world itself- are but little more than may-flies in the ken of such a folk. Our occasional intrusions into their Summerlands -as we succumb to dreams or flit through their realm in the form of shades awaiting rebirth- are to them the merest speck of a momentary annoyance.

The Shidhe are truly ancient – and alien- in ways we mortals -and perhaps even the Gods- cannot possiblycomprehend. And yet, despite how they perceive mortals, in some ways we are much-alike. The Shidhe feel the baser emotions keenly – anger, avarice, malice, lust, greed- more so even than the vilest of mortal men. Yet in turn they know and comprehend little of gentler, more noble emotions such as love, kindness, compassion and honour-although even they experience such emotions from time to time, although as nothing more than a faint, vaguely disturbing sensation. A moment's perturbation that swiftly vanishes, a tiny drop of human experience in a sea of cruel Shidhe emotions.

Though many -even the Gods- have tried to prove otherwise, no Shidhe can be killed by any means while they dwell within the Summerlands. In the mortal realms they are vulnerbale, but even then they are mighty in power and awesome in aspect. In the Great War between the Gods and Shidhe at the time of Edarnia's creation, countless Shidhe warriors were struck down by the Primordials and their elemental servitors, laughing with ill-humoured mirth even as their disjointed body parts reassembled themselves before the very eyes of their “slayers”. In truth, none save the Shidhe themselves can claim to understand with certainty why the Shihde warriors simply turned away and returned home after untold centuries of ceaseless warfare. I, who have studied the Shihde for many years, I who am myself the son of a once-Shihde- have my suspicions. And they are terrible in aspect.

For I believe they simply grew bored.

Boredom is a curse upon these timeless creatures. Having lived uncounted aeons, even their debauched and treacherous tastes must soon leave then indolent with innui. Many Shihde court disaster time and again -risking the terrible anger and rage of the EverQueen- to escape the tedium of their existence. Many choose to plot uselessly against their Queen, or attempt to imprison or torment rivals at court. Or else choose to break the most sacred of law of the Shidhe. The EverQueen, conscious of her folk's eternal nature, has long-since decreed that no Shidhe save she herself may ever bear a living child. Though the act of love-making itself is tolerated, it's consequences can be deadly indeed. Many choose to undertake this dangerous, forbidden act from simple curiosity or from simple malevolent rebellion. Few Shidhe undertake this dangerous pass-time for reasons of love – it being an emotion almost as foreign and repugnant to the Shidhe as the desire to murder a child is to mortals. Instead, such indulgent acts of love-making, treachery and intrigue serve only as simple a distractions from boredom.

Those who do succumb to the slow natural fertility of their race most often destroy the child while still within the womb. Those few who succumb to the unfamiliar emotions that swell within them at the pace of their bellies face an almost unimaginable choice. An eternity of imprisonment in the squalid dungeons of the Shidhe – a fate truly worse than oblivion for the immortal Shidhe- or banishment to one mortal world of many. There to live out the reminder of their much-reduced, near mortal lives as a shrunken shadow of their former power. Such are wretched beings , however beautiful their appearance, for they have lost all that made them who they once were. Knowledge. Wisdom. The memory of lost beauties to which they alone among all living beings bore witness. I know and feel the pain of their loss. My own mother was one of the banished. The unShidhe. An Elf!

Those few who choose so terrible a punishment undergo a painful and humiliating ordeal, a ritual of blood and pain, in which their very anima is torn asunder and merged with the tortured Shade of a some mortal being, plucked for this very purpose from the tortures of the Underworld. The mortal soul is completely subsumed by the process, destroyed forever. Yet a glimmer of mortality remains within the ruined anima of the former Shidhe. The newly-created elf is forever after a mere mortal. Un-aging, yes. But not invincible. Cursed to live a shadowy existence until such time as it's immortal body is slain. Such former Shidhe are as vulnerable to blade and spell, disease and misfortune alike, as we mortal beings.

Yet worse still than the fallen state of their once-eternal frame is the ravages of the mind. The memories, skills and knowledge of the transformed are left as thin and ephemeral as a single strand of silk -and equally difficult to grasp. Just as their bodies are warped into a less fearful form by their transformation, their minds are left torn and tattered by the experience. Like a fine silk tunic gnawed upon by locusts, there mind and powers are the barest tattered remnants of what they once were. Such beings as my mother retain their arrogance – for a time- but many, like my blessed mother, mellow in their bitterness and envy with the passing of the years. Some even learn to find joy and blessings in their mortal lives, as though every moment has become more beautiful with the knowledge it may be their last. Yet, just as often the Elf becomes a self-destructive being of hate. Destined for a lonely death at the edge of a blade. A sad fate, for when the unShidhe pass over from this world to the next, there is no relief from their torment. No return to the blessed Summerlands from whence they came. No, not even in dreams can they return there. For they each still carry a fragment of the damned soul within them. A tiny soul-shard that condemns them for a time to the eternal torments of the Underworld, where, in time, they are sure to be devoured by the unnatural denizens that dwell forever within that dark place. No magic known to Gods or mortal man can return them from that place. In this regard, once dead, an elf is indeed truly damned.

Yet it is whispered among these scattered exiles, on those rare occasions when two or more may gather in one place, that salvation exists. It is said that if, by some chance, an Elf might perform some unimaginable feat that might draw the intention -and interest- of his ennui-ridden Queen, it is whispered that this terrible process can be reversed. I have heard often such whispers pass between my mother and those few Elves with she has corresponded during her long exile, that Shidhe have undergone the dreadful transformation many times. Passing from Elf to Shidhe to Elf again in accordance with the Queen's whims. My mother talked often of such a being – telling tales while I perched upon her knee, give me hope for her mortal soul. Tales of a creature she spoke of only in the most hushed and reverent of tones. Tales of the being she called the Dancer in Shadow."

                                                                                                           

                                                                                             -Pytheragon Half-Elf,
                                                                                             Pedagogue to the Royal Court, Zama

 Game Terms:

• Shidhe are old. Very old. Several hundred thousand years old at the very least.
• Shidhe are a mere wisp of a shadow of some of their old selves. They may catch occasional glimpses of their past while in reverie and experience occasional flash-backs to their former lives. However, they have only a limited context with which to understand these images
• As a result, despite their great age, all newly transformed Shidhe begin as first level characters. 
• A deceased elven character cannot be brought back from the Underworld (returned to life) by any spell regardless of caster level or the casters divine status (if any). The only way to bring an elf character back from the Underworld is to go down there and get him (or her).
• Elves in Edarnia have no upper level limits on character classes, but because the disjointed and fragmented nature of their previous existence and the truama of trasnformation, they acquire an an XP penalty of 10%. In other worlds, they require 10% more xp per level advancement.
• Edarnin Elves cannot enter the Summerlands by any means, whether by Gate, Planeshift or the simple expedient of climbing up a sufficiently tall peak.
• Edarnia elves otherwise follow all the normal rules for Elves as outlined in the OSRIC rulebook,
• Final note: Shidhe are somewhat vampiric in their appearance but they are NOT vampires. During the transition from Shidhe to Elf their appearance changes to (more or less) that of a traditional elf. In moments of anger, a powerful or very old Elf can briefly return to her original form, if only for a fraction of a second (ala Galadriel in the first LOTR film).

In Memoriam

                              "From mud through blood to the green fields beyond" 
                                                                                                             - Royal Tank Regiment

                                                              When I am dead
                                                              Cry for me a little
                                                              Think of me sometimes
                                                              But not too much.
                                                              Think of me now and again
                                                              As I was in life
                                                              At some moment it's pleasant to recall
                                                              But not too much.
                                                              Leave me in peace
                                                              And I shall leave you in peace
                                                              And while you live
                                                              Let your thoughts be with the living.

                                                                                                            -Traditional

Dedicated to those who have passed into the Green Fields this last year.  With special thanks to the people of Royal Wooton Bassett 

Converting Masks of Nyarlathotep to Oriental Adventures:

As mentioned in a previous post, I was considering published campaigns that I could adapt to the Legend of the Five Rings setting for my second, much smaller, group. The one that essentially meets as when I have the time and can be bothered, as opposed to the weekly earth-shaker game.

Kelvin Green, genius that he is, suggested reworking Masks of Nyarlathotep. An awesome idea that I leapt on. I had just finished converting the first chapter, originally set in New York, to work in L5R's City of Lies when I had a revelation (inspired by the excellent blog Ramblings of a Great Khan): Why the hell am I bothering to convert this awesome campaign to L5R, a game system my players have never used, when I can just use OSRIC flavoured with 1^st ed AD&D Oriental Adventures?

So, over the next few days you'll probably come across a number of Oriental Adventures themed posts. Nothing to do with my efforts converting the campaign module itself, I'm afraid. After all, my group has to play through it first. Mostly I'll be taking the mounds of racial and character class information in OA and re-presenting it in a more user friendly format. Last night I had to read through the Samurai class information three times to work out how many starting proficiencies they had.  The “OSRIC” Oriental class artciles will therefore be nothing new or original (with the possible exception of the ninja. I might re-work that class entirely) just a rehash of existing material. Mostly for the benefit of my players, it has to be said, but hopefully there will be something useful in there for you too.

I'll also post maps and a brief key of my version of a fantasy Japan. Though the campaign won't be set in either OA's Kara-Tur or L5R's Rokugan I'll probably use elements of each lifted wholesale from the original. The starting city will still be called Ryoko Owari. It will still be a “hive of scum and villainy” but it wont be Rokugan's Ryoko Owari, apart from a few key locations. I also anticipate building in an area based heavily on L5R's Shadowlands. Blood Magic will also feature heavily (it shouldn't be too hard to work up rules for Blood Magic in OSRIC). So look forward to seeing articles about these over the next few weeks.

Anyway, that's it for me just now. I'm coming down with could be a winter cold. So I'm off to hop under my duvet with a mug of hot toddy and try to beat this thing down before it has a chance to take hold.

Scouting Party: Session V of the OSRIC Expeditionary Campaign

Scouting Party (players present):

Ailil Shadowdancer: Elf Male Assassin/Illusionist 1/1. Played by Ridh

Andros: Human (Mycenean) Female Fighter 1. Played by Aimee

Boagris: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Played by Silv.

Ki Oman: Human (Zaman) male Assassin 1. Played by Ali

Thanatos: Human (Mycenean) Male Asassin 1. Played by Fiona

Thera: Human(Mycenean) Female Paladin 1. Played by Niall

Camp Guards (players present last session):

Euthalia: Human (Mycenean) Female Cleric 1. Played by Caroline

Glykeria: Human (Mycenean) Female Illusionist 1. Played by Elle

Thot: Half-Elf Male Magic User/Cleric 1/1. Played by Rob

Xenos: Human (Mycenean) Fighter/magic User 1/1. Played by Leoni.

Guarding the Temple:

Alexis: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Played by Larraitz

Kallisto: Human (Mycenean) Female Fighter 1. Played by Jackie

Peliakos: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Played by Coakley

Sparios: Human (Mycenean) Male Fighter 1. Spare Character.

Because so few of the players present last week were able to make this session, we resumed events outside the cave complex: where the remainder of the party followed a clearly alarmed Shadowdancer out of the caves at full speed following the events of last-weeks cliff-hanger.

There, the party decide that they need more information concerning the layout of the caves before they commit the full expedition to further exploration. It's decided that the party's less combat worthy members should remain outside, to make camp and fish in the pool for the raw materials needed to make more food and torches. Xenos is selected by vote as the warrior type to remain behind and watch over Euthalia, Glykeria and Thot while they set about their more domestic duties. This leaves only the warriors and sneaks to explore the tunnels: the perfect scouting party.

OOC: So “perfect,” in fact, that the players were truly worried about their lack of cleric. After much whinging and cajoling I eventually agreed to let them treat Euthalia (played by wife, Caroline, who was present but unable to play due to prepping for an interview the next day) as a first aid post back at the Cave Entrance. But only because Caroline was present to give permission. Given that this session takes up the story about about half-an-hour after the last one ended, that means the party had access to her two remaining cure light wounds spells for the day.

The scouting party began their second delve by quickly making their way down to the second waterfall. Concerned that Xeno's bolas might not hold for long, they proceeded to pelt the two suspended fungoid creatures they had entangled last session with missiles until they stopped twitching. Satisfied that the creatures were dead, the party spent a turn or so listening carefully in case anything had reacted to the noise of the brief massacre before moving down to the pool at the base of the second waterfall. There they bickered quietly about their next course of action. Some wished to return to the spot where the tentacled creature had lashed out at Shadowdancer in the narrow passage and destroy it, not wishing to leave a live foe at their back. Most did not. The nays had their way.

The scouts instead moved to secure the room with the pool of growing blue ooze. Thera and Ki Oman both tested the pool by dipping various wooden implements into it, and were relieved (but also perplexed) to discover that the wood had suffered no apparent ill-effects and, as a somewhat unexpected side-effect, the good stuck to their wooden implements provide illumination similar to that of a candle.

Having spent some considerable time in the dungeon already (about three turns by my count, counting the dithering and dickering) they decided to press on.

I suspect the players were deliberately stalling for time because they were every bit as worried about adventuring without a cleric as their characters would have been.

The scouts then returned to the room with the strange pod-like growths hanging from the ceiling. Leaving Thanatos and Shadowdancer to guard the various entrances and exits, Ki Oman and the three warriors in the group set about examining the pods, noting that only two remained closed.

Tenatively, Ki Oman cut into the fungal rope suspending one of the open pods from the ceiling and was very much surprised when nothing bad happened. However, before moving to repeat the same trick on one of the open pods, the party strategically positioned themselves around the pod's vertical seam while Thera turned her back on the pod selected for experimentation in order to observe the other, unopened pod.

It was as well she did. For as soon as Ki Oman slit down the seam of his pod to reveal an odd, compost-like pile of plant-matter, rotting fish and animal bones perched atop a large mushroom shaped fungal protuberance, something else burst forth from the second unopened pod.

Despite their surprise, the party reacted swiftly to this threat, Boagris once again learning the hard-way that bashing weapons don't work particularly well on fungas creatures somewhat lacking in muscle or bones. The final blow was dealt by Andros, whose short-sword cut a wide gash in the creatures leg, spilling it's goopy, fungal innards onto the cavern floor. It was only now that the party got their first good look at the foe -a man-sized plant roughly humanoid in form but with strange, compound “eyes” perched on either side of it's tiny head.

The three warriors and Ki Oman immediately set about cutting down the remaining pods from the ceiling. In the course of doing so, Ki Oman came across a sphincter like structure towards the rear of one of the pods. While Ki Oman set about checking for traps and poking at the strange sphincter with his glowy stick until it opened, neither he, or Thera noticed that Andros' torch had begun to flicker considerably. Possibly because of the distraction afforded by Boagris who stubbornly stomped off alone down an unexplored corridor with a second, equally guttering torch in hand. Four major events occurred simultaneously only moments thereafter.

Firstly, Boagris walked alone into another cavern and was confronted by an animated stone troglodyte head that flew towards his head at speed., causing the gladiator to stumble backwards into the pod chamber.

Secondly, Ki Oman got the sphincter open and removed two clay urns from within.

Thirdly, Shadowdancer and Thanatos hurried back into the room with whispered warnings of a huge, tentacled thing shambling after them.

And finally, both torches sputter out.

OOC: My actual description of the torch flickering went straight over the players heads. Again. Hopefully finding themselves fighting monsters in the dark often enough will remind them to pay more attention to their light sources.

The shambling fungus creature, a huge beast twice the girth even of the mighty Boagris, was visible only as a tentacled silhouette framed against the ambient glow from the nearby blue-goo room. Yet it didn't seem to have any difficulty locating the scouting party in the otherwise pitch-black chambers. Only Shadowdancer could see it clearly, and he quickly snuck into hiding behind a pod to bide his time. Meanwhile Ki Oman kept his nerve sufficiently to keep one hand on the pod he had been fiddling with and stumbled his way into hiding, his way lit by the blue goop on the end of his stick. Thanatos meanwhile stumbled off into the darkness away from the monster and was lucky enough to find a pod to sit inside. Boagris ran blindly back into the pod room, slipped on the slimy floor now slick with 'pod-guts” and completely lost his sense of direction. Meanwhile a shell-shocked Andros desperately tried to light a new torch -only to have the strange stone head fly straight at her (or rather her torch) from behind as soon as her efforts bore fruit. Meanwhile, Thera rushed over to her side to illuminate the blacksmith's torch-lighting efforts with the blue goop on her spear-shaft.

In the second round, the beast finally pulled itself into full view, a massive, thick-set monstrosity with two mighty paws and a pair of tentacles writhing from each shoulder. It lumbered forward towards the two female warriors in the centre of the pod room, completely oblivious to the presence of the three hiding assassins. Boagris arrived by their side just in time to take a clobbering hits from the beast that staggered the huge warrior and left his head ringing (down to 1hp). Nevertheless, he and his companions bravely fought on, taking minor wounds and inflicting many minor hits on the beast in turn, most of which failed to pierce the its thick, rubbery hide. In time though, their efforts weakened the beast enough that the three assassins, simultaneously sneaking up on it's rear, back-stabbed the creature to death in a single round.

While the others paused to experiment with the strange floating trog head, Thera quickly laid her healing hands upon Boagris' wound. The strange warmth that suffused him reduced the swelling somewhat yet still left the warrior with an impressive, livid bruise. Taking stock and searching the body of the beast they had slain, the scouting party decided to return to the cave mouth for some healing.

It was at this point that I made my first major DM snafu in years. You see, after some experimentation the party incorrectly determined that the Trog head was attracted to heat (rather than light). It certainly seemed to follow whoever held the nearest torch as they travelled through the Dungeon. I ruled that as soon the cave entrance came into view, the Trog Head (which the party had already deduced that the trogs probably worshipped as some sort of God or Idol) shot towards the cave mouth and out of the caves, startling the party members on guard and giving their poor Trog guide an apoplectic fit! I described the stone head shooting rapidly upwards toward the sun, allowed Shadowdancer a desperate attempt to trick the head into returning to earth with a Phantasmal Force and (to the laughter of the players) gleefully acted-out the slack-tongued “Oh shit!” response of their Trog guide as he watched his beloved “god” disappear into the heavens!

I laughed so hard I nearly puked.

And then Rhi remembered it was still night time.

Shit!

So, with the campfire being considerably brighter than the weak moon-light filtering through the clouds, especially given that it's been thundering with rain ever since the PC's arrived on the island, I had to ret-con things so that the head floated above the camp-fire while the Trog guide prostrated himself before it in undisguised wonder. The Trog could only watch in awe as Shadowdancer seemed able to summon the head back to his side with a few muttered words and a wave of his hand (thanks to another illusion spell)

As soon as Euthalia deigned to cast a cure light wounds spell upon Boagris, returning the oft-wounded former gladiator to full health, the party (with stone head in tow) returned to the dungeon. Shadowdancer threw their stunned Trog guide a mysterious wink as he passed. After a long yet hurried discussion about what to do with the thing (and not wishing to risk an accident like the one I'd originally envisioned) the PC's hit upon a plan. They walked the stone-head back to it's original home, left it with a lit torch, extinguished their own lights, and left.

With a huge, collective sigh of relief, the party set about exploring the rest of the complex. First, and most significantly for their future survival chances (and hence xp totals) they located what appeared to be a freshwater under-ground lake. Shadowdancers inhuman vision was able to detect a few heat-sources in the water however. Being unable to identify these heat-sources due to the diffusing nature of the medium in which they floated, the group decided not to disturb the water beyond refilling their scarce collection of water bottles and other, somewhat improvised, drinking vessels.

They thereafter located an odd room with a glowing, moss-covered ceiling. The water from the stream had been divided into three irrigation channels feeding nine small pine trees. An low, disembodied muttering seemed to fill the chamber. Numerous theories abounded about the presence of the trees, everything from their role as a food source for the Trogs to an air purifying system (an OOC comment by the way). In any case, the party were able to discern something odd about the trees beyond that of their mere presence in a Dungeon. Yet after a while the party decided to move on, the mystery of their presence still unresolved.

In the end they found another chamber featuring a (much larger) stone Trogolodyte head. This one immobile and carved into the cavern wall. Some experimentation with light sources revealed that the open mouth was, in fact, the terminus of a small corridor they had found elsewhere in the complex but had been reluctant to explore.

That left only the corridor where Shadowdancer had been ambushed by the tentacled monstrosity. The others were somewhat nervous about the prospect of second encounter with the creature with no cleric in sight, until Ki Oman and Shadowdancer observed that the large, creature they fought in the pod chamber was itself probably the very thing that had attacked Shadowdancer. Nevertheless the party were reluctant to let Shadowdancer explore the tight corridor alone for a second time. With none of the warriors keen on the idea of stripping off their armour to venture down the confined and possibly dangerous space and with Thanatos being his usual cowar...cautious self, this meant Ki Oman would accompany the Shidhe.

The tight, uneven passage soon opened up into a wide chamber littered with detritus -decayed plant and-animal matter, dead trogs, broken weapons and the like. But at the far end of the chamber – a stone chest rested upon a raised platform. With a shared smile, the two assassins began making their way cautiously along the messy, uneven carpet of litter and remains covering the floor. After reaching the chest without finding a single trap, their instincts were tingling. True enough, when the two assassins lay flat on their bellies and carefully prised open the stone lid from below with bits of trog bone, three obsidian tipped darts flew over them to embed themselves in a stone wall (trap neutralized via role-playing rather than mechanically).

Still not satisfied and taking no chances, one of the two assassins (I can't recall whom) threw a rock into the chest, only to be rewarded with the sound of breaking pottery. Peering inside, they located a few pottery fragments and a huge pile of ancient gold and platinum coinage (which upon later examination was found to depict a bulls head on one side and a crescent with a dot between the points on the other). They also found a strange coil of spongy fungus that detected as magical to Shadow-dancers spell-casting. Sharing a conspiratorial look, the two assassins were determining what to share with the others and what to keep for themselves when a loud clattering noise (like a shield on stone) behind them made them look back.

Thera, stripped of all but a thin tunic, stood in the entrance to the room. She made to put one step forward when:

Shadowdancer and Ki Oman together: NO!!!!!!

Convinced of the necessity for caution and the presence of traps by the three darts sticking out of the moss-coated cavern wall not six feet from her, Thera was persuaded to remain where she was. Thus she was not able to prevent or observe the two assassins successfully palm all the platinum coins in the chest, though the gig was very nearly up when Shadowdancer fluffed a pick pockets/sleight of hand roll and dropped one of the coins. Thera bought his excuse that he was “just “examining it”. Shadow-dancer also managed to claim the strange fungus coil for himself with the permission and connivance of Ki Oman. However, all the gold coins in the chest were split between all six members of the scouting expedition when the party thereafter made their way directly back to camp.

As a result of this expedition, (XP for monsters defeated, XP for role-playing, XP for finding the only fresh water source on the island so far that doesn't reek of sulphur and XP for treasure) all the scouting party members (except Thera) made it to second level.

P.S: On re-reading this article I realise I make it sound as though the PC's have completely cleared the cave complex. In actual fact, the treasure chamber they found was a side passage away from a corridor that leads further down into darkness.

And now for something slightly different. Some OOC and IC Humour. There a lot of it this session. Mostly because the players were stalling for time, I believe.

Upon returning to the two tangled creatures at the second waterfall:

Me: They're still entwined by Xenos' bolas, hanging like a pair of struggling sad sacks from the ceiling.

Aimee: Sad sacks, eh? I suggest a proctologist!

Going down the chute at the second waterfall:

Ali: I go “whee” down the chute.

Me: Do you mean “whee” or “wee”?

While Ki Oman prods the sphincter-like hollow with his glow-stick, trying to open it:

Andros: Gods man! Are you not even gonna buy it a drink first?

After the fiasco with the stone head and the ret-con:

Shadowdancer: Remind me to have a little talk with these stupid Trogs about the wisdom of sending warm-blooded creatures with torches into the cave with their heat-seeking God!