The Pursuit of Tal Lorvas

Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

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Pre-beginning
Pre start

So there I was, looking at the bright wall that is my computer screen, a background he said. Eugh. And I even had to choose a class! So many choices! Well, I’ve always had an affinity for melee classes, and since I also play rogue in WoW I thought, why not give it a try here? It was a not-so-stealthy half orc rogue, sporting a spiked-chain in a martial arts style, very fancy. He also had one eye. In any case, I had this great idea for a wizard, I can’t mention my great idea here yet in case I’ll need it for a time yet to come, but it is a magnificent idea! Turns out one of our other players wanted to be a wizard, so I forfeit and made it a sorcerer instead, no biggie, after all I required was an arcane wielding nutcase. But, we still needed a healer to keep our sorry asses alive. I prayed for weeks, hoping someone would roll a leader-type, but to no avail, all we had were two other strikers, a controller and a defender. I contemplated for a time, maybe we could see this through without a healer, we did have a lot of dpr, or at least we should have. sigh I started looking around for any leader class I would even be remotely happy to play with, bard? too loud. Artificer? too techy. Cleric? well, in all our games we had a player who only played cleric, a cleric shooting lazor from her eyes and nursed us like we were her kids. No way I’d play that. then I saw the Battle cleric, at first I had dismissed it as a bad version of the devoted cleric. But when I looked closer, I came to realize this was a pretty interesting class, combined with a savage natured character this PC could be made manly enough for me to consider playing! Magnificent.

Even though I very much doubt it will ever be forgotten, I have to mention it took Malthe just about a month to come up with a background. Laughing material for years I say!

-Mathias/Stormthe Battle Cleric of Kord

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Excitement!

Damn. Took us a looong time to get this up and running. What, like a month before the DM had all Backgrounds? I mean how hard can it be… Anyways. I am aroused(!) with excitement! It’s gonne be so frickin’ great playing some D ‘n D again. + I found old tiles for the DM from my D ‘n D game from hasbro from i dunno 4 years back?

Anyways – I am looking forward to it! : D

Magnus / Legalo the swordmage

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Cinematic Combat

Sup yo. I was looking around at the DnD forum and I found this: http://community.wizards.com/go/thread/view/75882/21115301/A_Players_Guide_to_Cinematic_Combat It has some pretty neat advice on how to make combat more cinematic and lively.

-Storm

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And so, it begins!

Part 1: Tentacle face guy

With the aid of Sir Marshall, our intrepid adventurers Evaron, Khitaro, Nit the Changer, Siralos and Storm battled their way through Tal Lorvas’ improvised headquarters. They fought life-leeching wights, sword- and firewielding skeletons, ice cold zombies and a hulking zombie monstrosity (who packed one hell of a punch, nearly flattening Nit). And so, they ended up finally facing the man himself; a tall, bald and slightly silly necromancer with tentacles taped to his face, to make himself resemble an illithid. Or an octopus, who knows.

After a somewhat fierce battle, he was defeated. He fled through a portal, Sir Marshall hot on his heels. The portal closed before our adventurers could follow. With Tal Lorvas gone, the undead army literally crumbled around the party’s feet.

Before anyone could catch their breath, Nit had grabbed the spoils left by Mr. Lorvas. She was persuaded to hand them over, and gems and gold coins alike were handed out. Besides the shinies, they found a mysterious ring, the color of ashes, and a set of papers. The ring holds some sort of divine power, but is apparently dormant at the moment. Siralos currently has it tucked safely away somewhere on his metallic and wooden body. The papers were just as mysterious. Filled with the ramblings of a madman, written in something disconcertingly alike human blood, it revealed little. But they did get one thing from the papers: the word “Allswell” kept appearing. Hints of another hideout in the city of Allswell was enough to send them on their way.

But not before resting at the local inn, of course. At the Small Pig’s Tail (for that was the inn’s name), they were greeted by a pleasant young man. He invited Siralos to play a hand of cards with him, and he grudgingly accepted the challenge. With his own inhuman guile and the some “help” from Storm, they almost managed to get their hands on alot of money. But before they could finish, a strange woman sat down at the table, promptly won the entire pot, and took off. This left them slightly perplexed and a little poorer, so they decided to turn in. Evaron, apparently the only relatively normal person of the lot, bought a room. Storm camped just outside the city, too greedy to pay the very reasonable price for a room a the inn. He would regret this choice of location. Siralos, on the other hand, simply asked the innkeeper if he could borrow a closet. After promising to not leave any stains, he was shown to one, stepped in and powered down. Khitaro simply drank himself into a stupor, falling into a drunken sleep on a bench. Nit was nowhere to be found.

As I suggested earlier, Storm would regret not resting at the inn. As it were, he was subject to a rude awakening. An awakening involving a a tip of a sword resting on his throat, and a band of mexican (that’s right, mexican) desperados. They grabbed his clothes, armor and precious sword (which, unbeknownst to the them, was cursed) and took off. Needless to say, Storm was furious. He rushed to the inn, waked his companions (the ones he could find, anyway. Nit was still gone) and explained the situation to them. They rushed after the desperados, Khitaro thrown over Storm’s shoulder. The desperados’ tracks were easy to find and, luckily enough, on the road going to Allswell.

After half a days ride, they came upon a gruesome sight. More than a dousin mexican men, presumably the desperados from earlier, lay in the middle of the road, dead to a man. Closer inspection revealed that they had not killed each other. It looked as if they had been taken by surprise, cut down before they could use their superior numbers to their advantage. Some of them had clearly been trying to flee when they were killed. Amid the carnage, Storm found all his belongings. Except for his sword. Tracks led away from the field of mayhem, but not, as they might have hoped, toward Allswell. The tracks, those of a single human, lead towards the small town of Ashenport. As the adventurers approached the town, they were assailed by a terrible storm. Black, ominous clouds rushed in from the sea, quickly turning day into night. The whipping rain felt like needles on their skin and the cold, howling wind numbed them to their bones. But ahead lay hope. Hope and shelter. A few, orange lights appeared in the darkness, just a few hundred meters away. They pressed on through the storm, wading through what appeared to be a veritable river of mud. As they entered the town, the wind eased a little, but the downpour was still breathtaking.

More to come soon.

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Rules ;)

So I found this ruleset:

  • these rules are written on paper, not set in stone tablets
  • rules are suggested guidelines, not required edicts
  • if the rules don’t say you can’t do something, you can
  • there are no official answers, only official opinions
  • when dice conflict with the story, the story always win
  • min/maxing and munchkinism aren’t problems with the game; they’re problems with the player
  • the game master has full discretionary powers over the game
  • the game master always work with, not against, the players
  • a game that is not fun is no longer a game – it’s a chore
  • this book contains the answers to all thingsp.
  • when the above doesn’t apply, make it up

Sounds about right ^^

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Class guides

Do check these out http://community.wizards.com/wiki/Dnd:CharOp/Index_of_Class_Guides I don’t know why I haven’t posted them before, but seriously, I use them a lot and it certainly can be quite helpful especially for players not quite into the game.

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Siralos' notes
Notes

On the subject of halflings and addiction.

Today was most eventful. I’ve logged this because of the behavior of one my companions. The subjects name is Tim, though I know that that’s not all he is, but I’ll get on to that later. We were watching a man called Mr. Rosenfield, conducting researches about his daily goings, when I got the unique opportunity to watch something quite out of the ordinary. Tim had gone to knock on Mr. Rosenfields castle door (after robbing him, countless times – he is very handy. I should credit him for this at the closest opportunity.) As said he chose to knock on the castle door. The waiter appeared. He closed the door due to Tim’s size. This happened 3-4 times or so. Tim then chooses to let his bodily fluids flow out upon Mr. Rosenfield’s door. (Maybe this has something with marking territories to do? I shall have to study this closer on a later account.) Mr Rosenfield’s guard appears but Mr. Tim does not move or suspend the steady flow of urine. The guard is drenched. Mr Tim runs and bolts are shot at him. He avoids them. This is where his addiction is playing in. Would a sane humanoid do anything of this sort? I do not know yet and will conduct more research on the subject later.

- New moons month 56. day of the 1476. year.

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RP, woo

RP at my house saturday the 6th at 11am.

Bring a lvl 8 AND 9 character sheet just in case you level up.

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Whoa nelly

Shit we haven’t used this for ages. HOT DAMN

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