Session 1: The Marauders of Wheppersnade Cove (1st iteration)
This was my opening session at Airecon, and the only game that hadn't
sold any tickets in advance. Happily, three players keen to try
something new (and with slots available!) joined the table. None had
played Talisman Adventures before, and one might not have been familiar
with the board game. I handed the players a selection of pre-generated
characters, gave a brief overview of the key concepts: making 3d6 Tests,
players make the rolls not the GM, many familiar elements from the
board game except no vicious PvP action please. How Tests and so forth
actually work were then explained in play as they occurred.
The Cast:
Magnar, the Ghoul Assassin.
Amethyst, the Troll Warrior.
Bob, the Sprite Druid.
Our heroes were heading to the seaside for some R&R [Game note: this was a player suggestion right at the outset, and I'm happy to go with such]. Amethyst hoping to eat seafood, Magnar looking forward to building sandcastles.
As they approached the coast, they saw bill posters signed by Magistrate Cannock, declaring:
Any hero who Drives the Loathsome Marauders from Wheppersnade Cove will be Richly Rewarded.
[GM
note: I have an optional scene with Magistrate Cannock ready as a
potential start or for later - as the heroes were on their way to the
seaside anyway, seeing the posters and mentioning the name felt like
enough. The Magistrate appears briefly in session 2, and more
prominently in 3]
Interest piqued.
Rescuing Fair Betsy
The
heroes see a loathsome, armoured creature, with a cow slung over one
shoulder. A feisty young woman is whacking the monster with a stick, but
her blows are no more than a nuisance. [This is a scene I've used
as an encounter in one of my earlier Talisman adventures. The creature
is a Fomorian. The Fomorian is a pretty tough foe, and can inflict
significant damage, but 1st level heroes (especially with a Troll
Warrior) can handle one on its own. More important in the scenario
concept (although it didn't really feature as a big element of this
particular play) is that Fomorians are stupid and gullible.]
Amethyst strode over, grabbed Betsy the cow, and wrestled it from the Fomorian [Resolved as a straight Melee Test, great success rolled].
While
the monster was occupied in tug of war with Amethyst, Magnar circled
round behind it and skewered the foe with his rapier. [I treated as a
surprise attack as Magnar had previously successfully sneaked. The roll
was a great success anyway, and a 6 on the kismet die triggered the
Rapier armour bypass. This turned out to be the player's first and last
decent roll of the game!]
Bob then fried the Fomorian with a Lightning Bolt [The
rules don't specify (I think), but I allowed this to also bypass
armour. Spells available to players right at level 1 in Talisman are
strong - balance comes from the GM judiciously applying those Failures
and Standard Successes - or putting the heroes themselves up against
spell-casters (see the first session report for D.A.N.G.I.T.I.D.O.I.D.
for details!)]
Amethyst hit the frazzled Fomorian with her axes, destroying its armour.
Magnar struck again, mercilessly. [With armour now gone and all the previous damage this was almost enough to finish it off - Fomorian on 1 Life]
The creature turned and ran off. [The
players enjoyed their victory, and were already having fun with the
system. This probably took us about 15 minutes into the session, or
possibly a little longer including explaining how Tests work. I give
players at the beginning of sessions a very basic overview to let them
know that they'll be making 3d6 rolls as Tests, that only players make
rolls and their outcomes largely determine monster responses as well as
their own successes, and that they can learn more when they first need
to roll one. A combat is definitely one of the best ways to teach the
system, and this encounter served that purpose perfectly.]
Bob sent his Pixie Follower off Scouting to see where the Fomorian went.
The
heroes were thanked by Sally Blackbrow for saving her cow, Betsy. In
response to their questions, she explained that she had been taking
Betsy to graze at a nearby meadow (Thripsey Dingle) when the monster
attacked. She said that there were many such creatures hereabouts ever
since they invaded and took over Wheppersnade Cove.
The pixie
returned and reported that indeed, the Fomorian had headed straight to
Wheppersnade Cove. And that as soon out of sight the creature had sobbed
and wailed the rest of its sorry way home.
The heroes determined that they would certainly go see what they could do about the Marauders of Wheppersnade Cove [After all, that's the title of the adventure, so they better, right?] First though, they accompanied Betsy to Thripsey Dingle, to see her safely there.
A Door is Closed at Thripsey Dingle
The
heroes noted that Thripsey Dingle had a magical and peaceful aura. Bob
determined that the meadow was certainly a Fairy Glade, but that for
some reason the way through to the Faerie Realm was sealed. Sally told
Bob that she had often seen that "funny little fellow" Mr Sprindlestep
here, but otherwise no, nothing unusual. Betsy just so loves the grass
here. What did she know about Mr Sprindlestep? Oh, he's a fine
gentleman, but a funny little fellow. He has a house somewhere
hereabouts, where Sally has been for tea and scones, but strangely she
can't quite say where it is... [Of course, the players rightly
conclude that there is definitely something suspicious and fae about Mr
Sprindlestep, but this is a sub-plot that doesn't come back into play
this time around. See sessions 2 and especially 3 for the fuller story
here. I think by this stage I had at some point let Bob know that the
Mauraders were Fomorians, that Formorians are Dark Fae, in service to
Queen Mab].
At Wheppersnade Cove
The
heroes now made their way to Wheppersnade Cove. The fishing village is
in an oval bay, entirely hemmed in by overhanging cliffs. [As such, it was easily observed by the heroes from above.]
There's one road into the village, which follows a stream down a gulley
and enters the centre of the cove. The village stands to the left of
the stream mouth, and consists of several huts and cottages, a tavern,
and a wooden Moot Hall fashioned as an upturned fishing boat. There are
animal pens in the market space between Moot Hall and Tavern.
The
right side of the road, across from the village, is a shingle beach,
with a lonely chapel huddled up against the cliff face, and surrounded
by a ramshackle iron railing.
The heroes could easily see that
the village was swarming with loutish Fomorians, and the pens were
filled with unhappy fisherfolk. Three longboats were moored in the bay.
One band of Fomorians stood guard where the road enters the cove. [I
didn't have a map to hand before play, but had it pictured in mind.
Village with Moot Hall, Tavern, villagers in pens. Lonely chapel off by
itself, three longboats, everything surrounded by high cliffs. We took a
brief break when the players reached Wheppersnade Cove (maybe an hour
and a half into play?) and I sketched out a quick map on a whiteboard,
placing some pawns to show where the groups of Fomorians stood. Each
pawn to represent about 4 or 5, showing 20 to 30 Fomorians total. The
players spent some time discussing possible strategies and asking
questions about what they could see.]
Even though they had
taught the single Fomorian a stern lesson in manners, dealing similarly
with two dozen or so might prove more challenging. The heroes decided to
climb down to the chapel - Bob had noted that the railings were made of
iron, and that Fomorians were certainly averse to that metal; Magnar
had spotted movement there. It was away from the village and a good
point to contemplate stage two. With a stout length of rope, Magnar and
Amethyst began the perilous descent, while Bob flitted down with his
wings... [I let the players know that they could get down easier at
other points, but that to climb down directly into the chapel grounds,
they'd need to make a climb Test. Wherever possible in such
circumstances, rather than have each player roll individually, I
encourage a single Assisted Test by the best climber, which I think is
what we did here. The result was a Standard Success (if I recall
correctly), which I ruled meant that they got down safely, but attracted
the attention of the Fomorians guarding the cove entrance...]
The Sacred Chapel of the Blessed Samuel
The
heroes readied themselves in the graveyard, while a gang of angry
Fomorians ran over. One was the Fomorian whose hide they'd tanned
earlier (hanging at the back, pointing, demanding the others get
retribution). It was clear that the foul creatures were indeed reluctant
to approach the iron fence. Amethyst jeered at them - and a barrel of
fish heads crashed onto the Chapel roof behind her.
With the
Fomorians looking around for boulders to throw, the heroes wisely
decided to take shelter in the Chapel. There they were welcomed by a
worried Priest, who soon decided that his visitors were saviours sent by
the Blessed Samuel to deliver the village. He told the heroes that they
were surely safe here because the holy aura of the shrine's sacred
relic would keep the Fomorians at bay, and that the heroes' arrival was
certainly a Sign From Above. Hoping to get some mystical aid, Bob
examined the wondrous relic reverently presented by the Priest - the
Sacred Scourer of the Blessed Samuel (a sponge on a stick). [We Lore
Tested this one, because why not. Yup, it was confirmed by Bob to be no
more than a sponge on a stick. He kindly refrained from challenging the
Priest's belief.]
The heroes decided that they would take
out every other iron railing, and then use those as spears to attack the
Fomorians. They would deal with the ones outside, then (seeing that the
commotion on this side of the bay hadn't attracted any attention from
the Fomorians in the village) carry as many as they could back up the
cliff, and bring them down after night fall to the pens, arm the
villagers, and drive out the rest of the invaders. First, deal with the
Fomorians outside.
Amethyst threw an iron spear - she missed,
and the Fomorian responded by hurling another barrel of fish heads that
landed a hefty blow on the troll [Failure on the attack roll for the
Troll, who has fewer adds without the Focus that she benefits from in
melee combat with her axe. The 2d6+6 damage (I spent Dark Fate to make
this a Boulder Throw - not strictly in accordance with the creature
description but in the spirit and appropriate to the circumstances -
including as a timely warning that the earlier success did not mean that
the Fomorians would be a walk over in combat]. Magnar's own attack
was similarly ineffective. Bob considered the overhanging, rocky
cliffs, and flew up, leaving his comrades. Taking his staff, he unlodged
a boulder, which went careening down below, and rolled off into the
sea. He unlodged another - and started a rockslide that engulfed the
Fomorians. Just one remained standing - the one who'd tried to steal
Betsy the cow. Amethyst leapt over the railing, and mercilessly finished
it off with her axes. [The Sprite-engineered rockslide was clearly
improbable, but the scenario was deliberately set up with potentially
overwhelming odds. Bob's player made two checks in two rounds of combat,
and the second was a Great Success. I removed a Fomorian pawn from the
whiteboard.]
The heroes considered a similar approach to
dealing with the Fomorians in the village, but generously decided that
such might not be greatly appreciated by the villagers in the Fomorians'
midst. Seeing that all this commotion had not attracted a whit of
attention from the other Fomorians [they are, after all, stupid
creatures], they proceeded with the original plan.
The Liberation of Wheppersnade Cove
Under
cover of darkness, Bob flew over to the Fomorian longboats, flint and
tinder at the ready. Magnar and Amethyst went back up the cliffs with
the spears, and climbed down again behind the village, lurking in the
shadows. Bob set fire to two of the longboats. The Fomorians panicked,
many running to the ships. Amethyst and Magnar ran over to the pens and
armed the villagers with iron spears. Inspired, the fisherfolk drove the
confused and fearful Fomorians out of the village, such that only their
leader remained in the Moot Hall. [This sequence was resolved with a
number of key sneak, intimidate and persuasion Tests, which ran very
smoothly for the heroes, apart from the odd hiccup. We were approaching
session end, and things moved with great pace to a climax.]
Magnar
sneaked in the back, Amethyst burst through the front, accompanied by
villagers. Inside the Fomorian leader Balor sat, on a ramshackle throne
built with a ramshackle assortment of common objects - a broken lobster
pot, a wagon wheel, copper kettles, broken bedsteads, and other junk.
Balor was huge, even for a Fomorian, with a single, terrible red eye.
Undaunted, Amethyst attacked! Magnar snuck up to backstab! Bob arrived
with Lightning Bolts at the ready! [I made Balor a tougher, Threat
17 Fomorian, with eye blasts that would basically stand in for a
limitless source of "boulder throw" level damage. However, with the
other Fomorians dealt with, this was really just a re-run of the first
fight, and with a very similar outcome. Balor was soon finished off,
with a very satisfying Great Success from Amethyst].
Balor
lying dead, an axe buried in his single eye, the heroes stood
triumphant. The other Fomorians had been chased from the village. The
priest was delighted that The Blessed Samuel had brought deliverance,
and the fisherfolk were deeply grateful, rewarding their saviours with a
well-deserved fish supper.
* * *
This was my first ever run
of this adventure, though I'd used the key element of Fomorians holding a
village captive, and the opening scene with Sally and Betsy in a
previous convention game. I'd characterise the way it played out as a
daring commando raid; the tone was light and action-filled, and everyone
seemed to really enjoy playing the characters they'd chosen. There was a
very stark mix in success on rolls - the Ghoul's player had notably
poor luck, whereas the Troll was blessed by Fate throughout, but that
didn't spoil anyone's game.
I ended up running this scenario twice more, for which see below. Magnar's player also took part in a run at the Dread Wyrm Egg Hunt.
It was a flying start to the convention: a really enjoyable game. Deepest thanks to the alter-egos of Magnar, Amethyst, and Bob!
Session 2: Death And Neverending Glory In The Infamous Dungeon Of Inescapable Doom (1st iteration)
The second session of Airecon, and the first evening game. I am
always finding evening games a bit tougher than the rest, even on the
first day of an event. People are always more frazzled in the evening
after a full day of gaming - I certainly am, anyway.
I had a lot
of hopes for DANGITIDOID. Putting my games into play though really put
into perspective some issues. My concept for this was an epic dungeon
crawl in three hours. I never quite managed to get the sense of scale
(in time and distance in the vastness of The Dungeon) that I was looking
for, but I think it worked very well, probably thanks to the enthusiasm
and inventiveness of the players. There were some really epic moments.
I
pregenerated some 3rd level heroes, and provided a few magic items and
followers. Also handouts with all of each heroes special abilities, and
reference cards for each Follower and Magic Item. Very handy - but also a
lot of text to be distracting players with. In later sessions, I would
try out handing out the references only when they were relevant in play.
It kind of worked, but I think the best option (for a one shot) is a
brief description of a special ability on the character sheet, and the
GM keep the ref sheet with the full details. TARPG is a simple game to
play, but the special abilities tend to have rather wordy descriptions.
If you're playing a campaign, it's nice to have a bunch of unique and
particular abilities - but there's a risk of information overload if its
all there on day one.
The Cast:
Sikorax the Ghoul Assassin
Morag the Vampire Minstrel
Mug the Troll Warrior
Kristoff the Dwarf Tomb Robber
Grumbledoor the Minotaur Priest
The
Dungeon is a vast, immeasurable underground realm, which many claim
reaches to the furthest extent of The Land, and that its deeps open into
the upper halls of Hell. It is told that within its chambers and
caverns are wondrous treasures and ancient artifacts of great power -
lost Talismans (Talismen?) of the Great Wizard, glowing crystals and
orbs and all manner of fabulous whatchamacallits. There is echoing
darkness and emptyness - and there are corridors that teem with foul and
malevolent life: hobgoblins, liches, all manner of dragons and wyrms.
Rescuing Fair Betsy
Our
heroes sought one such entrance to this legendary place. At last, after
many weeks searching, they approached a great brass door set in a cliff
face. The door stood ajar, and before it a weeping maiden.
"Please
help me, kind adventurers," she said (drawing not entirely obvious
conclusions from the party's appearance), "those awful creatures have
stolen my poor Betsy!"
[Yes, as in Wheppersnade Cove, we begin with a vicious Cownapping, that event most assured to motive heroic response]
The
heroes briefly conferred, some moved more than others by young Sally's
appeal. Mug the Troll decided things by heading through the Dungeon
Door, and descending the stairs beyond, racing ahead to pursue a distant
clatter and mooing.
[We started out with a roll for the pursuit, which was a Great Success]
"Well fought!"
At
the bottom of the stair, the heroes reached a chamber with three exits,
saw Betsy's tail disappearing into the darkness of one, wile three
Zombie Knights stopped to face the heroes. Morag blasted one with a
Psychic Assault - and won the undead foeman's loyalty! [Thanks to a 6 on
the Kismet die and the special feature:
"Well-fought!": The
character so impresses the zombie knight, that it immediately breaks
free from its sorcerous compulsion and swears its sword arm to the
character's service.] Mug hacked at a second, and it to dropped to its
knees [Another Kismet 6]. The third Zombie Knight saw its end in the
more usual fashion.
With their newly-acquired followers, the
heroes readied themselves to continue the pursuit. They were curious
about the other routes available though. Sikorax sent his Spirit
Familiar on a scouting mission; the ghostie returned with the
information that one route led to goblin territories, one to unknown
dangers [to my mind, a dragon's lair], and the route that Betsy had been taken down was into a realm of the dead.
There
was some discussion about priorities including whether they cared at
all about Betsy's fate, particularly against the opportunity of slaying a
bunch of goblins, but at length they decided to proceed, and set out
into the crypts of the dead...
[I explained to the players
that mechanically, we'd proceed with Exploration tests, that one player
would make a Guide Test, and one a Watcher test, and that players could
resolve in the order they chose. I can't recall exactly, but I think
there were two tests of each. The first Guide was a Great Success, the
Watch Test a standard.]
The heroes made their way through
echoing chambers and deeper into the dungeons, the Minotaur Grumbledoor
picking a route, the Dwarf Kristoff looking for traps and ambushes.
Betsy and her captors always ahead, but the heroes confident they were
on the right path.
Now You're Cooking (Dwarf) With Gas
Kristoff
warned of a trap ahead. The problem was that it blocked their route.
The wily dwarf took a look to see if he could disarm it. Some nozzles
and a mechanism here which... Mug looked over Kristoff's shoulder to
take a look at what the dwarf was doing. The flame of his torch sparked a
sudden, flaring explosion of flame. Kristoff should have been fried,
but made an unbelievably agile back flip, grabbing the dwarf and
entirely shielding the Tomb Raider from harm.
[Kristoff
failed his disarm Test, and a flame trap was triggered, with Kristoff
and Mug in range. Kristoff failed the necessary dodge Test, but Mug's
player rolled a holy 666. I asked in what particular fashion did he want
the holy of Test result holies commemorating, and the player generously
asked that his save also include protecting the dwarf from his own
failure. The least I could do.]
The Pit of Bones
After
surviving the trap however, things went astray. Grumbledoor led his
companions confidently onwards, deeper and deeper, before the
realisation grew that they had gone astray somewhere, lost Betsy's
trail. Bones crunched underfoot, and more bones, and more, until they
were wading in bones, wading through a vast pit of bones. The heroes
stopped. They could sense a malevolent evil. Seeking to redeem his
failed sense of direction, Grumbledoor prayed, and cast Augury. He was
overcome by a sudden vision: There was a terrible, ancient evil present,
and that evil would help them achieve their quest, or perhaps it would
utterly destroy them. Armed with this vision, they pressed on amongst
the bones. Then stopped again, though the crunching and swirling of
bones continued, until they saw rising before them a towering giant of
bone, and felt its awful, malign presence angering at them.
Morag prepared to blast it with a mind bolt. "Wait!" cried Grumbledoor, "don't fight it, speak to it!"
Skeptical,
Morag reached out, opening her mind, the minstrel felt that they shared
a common enemy - The Lich King, who had stolen Betsy, and who had slain
all the creatures that now made up the Giant of Bone.
"Aid us, and we will aid you: we will slay the Lich King and give you release!"
The
bones changed shape, they shifted and swirled and formed a precarious
staircase rising higher and higher. With only a moment's hesitation, the
heroes ascended.
[The preceding arose and developed as a
result of various Tests, questions and suggestions from the players. I
had in mind that there would be factions in the dungeon that could help
or be set against each other, and this tied in with that. If they'd
wanted to fight it instead, there's stats for a Bone Giant in Myths
& Monsters, and Pit of Bones is a Hazard in Tales of the Dungeon.]
The Lair of the Lich King
The
heroes climbed, the bones took them to an ancient crypt corridor: bones
still rolled around and ahead, leading the way but getting fewer and
fewer, until there was one final finger joint, pointing straight ahead.
The Ghoul sent his spirit guide on one final scouting mission and, pact
fulfilled [and Loyalty spent] the Spirit departed. What the
spirit told them they crept forward and saw for themselves - the
corridor opened into a high gallery of a vast, sunken cathedral. Down
below, large numbers of Zombies and Skeletons milled about. And towards
the Nave, before an altar, stood the awful Lich King. Betsy the cow was
being drawn to the undead monarch, for clearly malign purposes. Our
heroes quickly conferred.
[There was some discussion between
players about how best to proceed, and I let them know how those
suggestions might work mechanically. We were now approaching the end of
our time slot, and clearly at the climax of the adventure. I explained
that they could chose the order of executing each part of the plan (and
the relevant player's Test) - but to be aware that they might need to
respond to failure or success of this or that part of the plan.]
Morag
was to disguise herself as a zombie and mingle below. She was undead
anyway, so surely it would be easy to be accepted amongst them. She'd
try and turn the zombies against the Lich King, or at the least create a
distraction. Meanwhile, Mug and Sikorax would swing down and try to
take out the Lich King. Grumbledoor would be above ready to help with a
handy spell or two, or possibly to Banish undead (even to try it on the
Lich King if necessary) - whatever was required. Kristoff would set up a
flaming oil trap.
Morag, faux-zombfied headed down. She used her
minstrelly charm and vampiric strength of will to ingratiate herself
with the zombies... [Great Success: so far so good, the zombies like
Morag and are being swayed. We're late in the game, and it's fun
running with the idea that zombies can be persuaded and agitated.] Morag seizes the opportunity to rouse the zombies against the Lich Lord [Standard Success]
- they're on side, but the Lich King notices. He howls in outrage, and
sets the skeletons against the zombies. All hell breaks loose. This is
fine by Morag, as it certainly classes as a distraction.
The hit
squad swooped down! Mug struck with incredible precision, and the Lich
King was hit and grievously damaged [Great Success, and at Threat 22].
Sikorax strikes too, but misses! The Lich King turns, eyes blazes,
unleashes a spell in a crackle of green energy: and Sikorax is turned
into a Toad!
[A tough call on Sikorax, but this is a one shot
and its near the end. The player takes the misfortune in good humour,
and I handed him a Toad Card. I also had "You are now a G-g-g-g-g-ghost"
cards prepared for any unexpected termination, but those weren't called
for. The players are now all too aware just how high they need to roll
and that even for Mug this will be a risky proposition]
The
skeletons battled the zombies, and Kristoff's trap failed! Grumbledoor
was wary of wasting a Banishment on the mighty Lich King, and instead
turned his holy power on the Skeletons. A bunch of them crumbled -
leaving many more standing, but more importantly swinging the odds
strongly in favour of the zombies, who now overwhelmed the skeletons.
[Some
discussion about banishment. The Priest can banish one foe, then
additional foes at a cost of one Spell Point each. For each of those,
the priest then gets 1d3 spell points back. I allowed that these points
can themselves immediately be spent on banishing further undead, but
don't chain again after that. The priest was able to banish 8 this way,
and save 1 Spell Point for an emergency Marked For Glory. That spell had
proven very useful at an earlier juncture (although I've forgotten
exactly when that was) - it can be cast as a reaction, and change the
result of one die to a selected result. This is pretty powerful in TARPG]
Morag
now incited the zombies again against their overlord, and Morag's
argument is assisted by the fervent croaking of Toad Sikorax [A Toad
can still assist, right? Should strictly only be on a 1, but the player
rolled a 2, and I figured that Sikorax must surely be a very Resolved
Toad]
The argument was almost convincing enough - and then with Grumbledoor's prayers [and Marked For Glory],
Morag succeeded, the zombies swarmed over their former master,
overwhelming him, turning a zombie to a Toad as a final defiance. The
heroes could now escape with Betsy, but Mug had unfinished business:
leaping into the air he struck with awesome precision, and the Lich
King's head was separated from its shoulders!
[The player
wanted a final shot and, wouldn't you know it, rolled 555, his second
triple of the game, and a very fitting final roll - second time I've had
this happen in a convention game, and very satisfying for all
concerned, 'cepting the Lich King].
Betsy was saved, Morag
contemplated the power vacuum left by the Lich King in this underworld
realm of the dead, and the eyes of a Ghoul Toad and Zombie Toad met and
they looked at each other with... love?
***
Some
of this adventure followed a course resembling what I had in mind from
the outset. In particular, the dramatic and entertaining finish really
delivered on what I hoped would result. But I still have some work to do
to get the mechanics right of how I want the epic 3 hour dungeon
adventure to work, and Rescuing Betsy is surely a placeholder for
something with a little more weight. Wonderful session though, and yet
again, very responsive and creative players. Morag had a lot of great
lines which I wish I'd written down: the character of the Vampire
Minstrel was very well-realised. My description of the plot and action
only captures a dim reflection of the game itself.
Session 3: Return of the Cabbage King (Marauders of Wheppersnade Cove take 2)
The Cast:
Grog the Dwarf Priest
Urlas Goodleaf, Elf Scout
Drak the Troll Warrior
Murghu the Ghoul Assassin
(Grog's player was happy to choose spells for this session rather than go with my preselection. More on this later...)
Our
heroes were a-rambling and a-roving out in the Realm, seeking fortune
and glory. Nailed to a tree was a poster, signed by Magistrate Cannock,
which read:
"Any hero who Drives the Loathsome Marauders from Wheppersnade Cove will be Richly Rewarded"
Fortune and glory for the taking!
Rescuing Fair Betsy
Cries
of alarm were heard and responded to. Cowherd Sally Blackbrow was seen
beating a loathsome Fomorian with a stick, as it tried to make off with
her beloved cow Betsy slung over one shoulder.
Our heroes cheerfully charged to the fray.
(Some banter about whether to rescue the Maiden or the Fomorian. The battle went fairly smoothly for the heroes.)
Drak delivered the killing blow, and caught Betsy as the Fomorian threw her up into the air on expiring.
Grog immediately set on Sally with missionary fervour, and converted Sally to the Faith.
(Great
Success on a persuasion roll. Sally is now a loyal Follower of the
priest, with Betsy tagging along as a bonus. Some great roleplay went
along with this, for the character of the ruthlessly proseletyzing
priest.)
The heroes questioned Sally, who told them that
this foul creature is one of many infesting the area, having taken over
the nearby fishing village Wheppersnade Cove
Urlas the Elf spoke
to Betsy the Cow. Betsy replied to thank Urlas graciously. To everybody
else, the conversation was just moos, and they were certain that the elf
was a bit tapped.
Sally told the heroes that she had been on
her way to Thripsey Dingle to pasture Betsy. The heroes headed there to
check it out.
Mr Stepsprindle
They
found it to be a very peaceful and beautiful little meadow, lying
amongst woodland. All felt its magical aura: the Elf could tell that
this was a fairy glade. He attempted to commune with the Fae, but found
that the way through to the Realm of the Fae was somehow closed or
blocked.
At that point he noticed a little man in a green
waistcoat and hat, with fine leather boots, angrily staring at the
heroes from the edge of the woods. "Be off with ye!" shouted the little
man, "you aren't welcome or wanted here!"
"Why, how odd," said Sally, "Mr Sprindlestep is usually quite happy to let Betsy graze here."
The
heroes try to talk and reason with Mr Sprindlestep, but he insists that
they leave his land, and refuses to answer any questions. When they
suggest that he might want their help in driving off the marauders, Mr
Sprindlestep said that they were the only marauders he wanted to be rid
of.
Suspicious, but nonplussed, the heroes decided that they
would go and check out Wheppersnade Cove, and see what could be done
about the Marauders.
Wheppersnade Cove
From the cliffs above, the heroes could see down into the occupied village.
(The fishing village is in an oval bay, entirely hemmed in by
overhanging cliffs. As such, it can be easily observed from above.
There's one road into the village, which follows a stream down a gulley
and enters the centre of the cove. The village stands to the left of the
stream mouth, and consists of several huts and cottages, a tavern, and a
wooden Moot Hall fashioned as an upturned fishing boat. There are
animal pens in the market space between Moot Hall and Tavern. The
village is swarming with loutish Fomorians, and the pens are filled with
the unhappy fisherfolk of the village. Three longboats were moored in
the bay. One band of Fomorians stands guard where the road enters the
cove. The right side of the road, across from the village, is a shingle
beach, with a lonely chapel huddled up against the cliff face, and
surrounded by a ramshackle iron railing.)
The heroes
discussed the situation, and asked further questions of Sally. Grog
dimly remembered a legend of how the Fomorians had once before invaded
hereabouts, and were driven off by the Goblins of Jabbersnatch Gulley.
He couldn't recall exactly how, but that it was odd because the Goblins
of Jabbersnatch Gulley are known to be peaceful cabbage farmers.
(This
played on a piece of background I had in mind, and came out in response
to the Priest's player asking if they could recall any relevant lore or
history about anything like this happening in the past, and getting a
success on the resulting Test.)
Grog, Urlas and Drak decided
to head to Jabbersnatch Gulley and find out the secret of how the
Goblins drove the Fomorians back to sea. Murghu would stay behind and
continue to spy on the Fomorians.
(The players asked how far
Jabbersnatch Gulley was and if they could travel there. I explained
that it wasn't in they immediate vicinity, but they could reach it in a
few days, and that we could resolve the journey by the exploration
rules. They rolled Great Successes for the Guide and Watcher tests, so
reached it without incident. I like to "zoom in and out" with
Exploration Tests - sometimes a single test represents part of a day's
journey, sometimes it covers days or weeks or more - really, whatever
suits the session and the story. In this case, it was clear that
Jabbersnatch Gulley was going to be a side-quest, and we wanted to see
if the village could be rescued in a three and a half hour session.)
The Grand Cabbage Wallah of Jabbersnatch Gulley
The
heroes reached the damp and misty Goblin enclave at Jabbersnatch
Gulley. They could dimly see goblin farmers toiling on the sides of the
gulley, and the giant Jabbersnatch Cabbages growing there. There was one
stone building in the village of clay huts: residence of The Grand
Cabbage Wallah Hurvle Tranglewhang. The heroes approached the burly
Goblin standing guard at the door.
"We're here to see the Grand Cabbage Wallah."
"On what business?"
"On cabbage business."
"Obvs"
"The cabbages are in great danger!"
"The cabbages are in danger! The cabbages are in danger! Sound the alarm!" yelled the guard.
A
bell started ringing loudly, and Goblins ran around screaming in alarm
and distress. The door opened revealing the dignified and almost tall
Hurvle Tranglewhang.
"What is all this? Why has the bell been rung?"
"The cabbages are in danger! The cabbages are in danger!"
"Yes," said Urlas, "and we're here to protect them."
"They're here to protect the cabbages! Bring them the green robes of the Honorable Order of the Warden of Cabbages!"
Goblins swarmed over the heroes, and pulled green robes embroidered with the ubiquitous cruciferous vegetable over their heads.
(I instructed the players to add Cabbage Warden Robe to their character sheets.)
"Now," said Tranglewhang, "tell me about this great danger that you are here to protect us from."
"The Fomorians,"
"Fomorians? Fomorians? Ha! Stop the bell! Silence the alarm! Remove the robes!"
The bell stopped clanging. Goblins swarmed over the heroes and removed the robes.
(I instructed the players to remove Cabbage Warden Robe from their character sheets.)
Hurvle
Tranglewhang scoffed at the idea that the Fomorians represented any
kind of threat at all. In response to the heroes' questions, he
explained that Fomorians are incredibly stupid and gullible, and that
his ancestors had driven them to sea with a simple trick.
"What trick?"
"Oh,
we made an effigy of the Cabbage King, said he was angry and - I don't
know - with some lights and cheap tricks scared the Fomorians witless.
Yes, they're no threat to Jabbersnatch Gulley, no threat at all.
Fomorians! Pfaugh!"
The heroes returned to Wheppersnade Cove, armed with this vital piece of information.
Back
at the cliffs, Murghu had been keeping careful watch, montioring the
movements of the Fomorians. He had noticed that there was someone hiding
in the chapel across the bay.
Murghu had also seen but
completely forgot to mention at the time that he had seen Mr
Sprindlestep visiting the village and going straight to the Moot Hall to
visit the Fomorian Chief.
(Ok, it was me who forgot to
mention at the time, but I told the players later and blamed the
Assassin. The players correctly assumed that Mr Sprindlestep was somehow
behind everything that was going on - though the details only really
came out at the third play through - see later. While the heroes were
visiting Jabbersnatch I was conscious that we had one player out of the
action, but he was OK with that decision, and all the nonesense with the
Goblins only covered about 10 minutes of play. I allowed for the time
spent observing to count for a use of the Assassin's Preparation special
ability - which I would be flexible with and allow him to say at a
later time that it was this particular Fomorian whose habits he had been
carefully studying, to be able to get the extra die on an attack roll
against him. If it's OK with the player, it's quite useful and thematic
for the Assassin to be able to spend some time just lurking and spying.)
The
heroes started to formulate plans. If they could fool the Fomorians
into thinking that the Cabbage King had returned, might they repeat the
Goblins' success?
The Sacred Scourer of the Blessed Samuel
They decided to first check out the chapel and see if any assistance could be found there.
Between
the Troll and the Ghoul's efforts, the heroes (and Sally, and Betsy the
Cow, and various other followers) were able to safely climb down the
cliff - well, almost safely. Grog's unnamed servant plummeted to the
Discard Pile "Pleasure to be of service..." he cried as he fell.
Yup, Standard Success for an Assisted Climb Test - what better way to mark it?
Banging
on the chapel door, the heroes roused a timid little priest, who
ushered them quickly in to the sanctuary of the Blessed Samuel.
Theological
debate ensued with Grog, who announced himself to be a follower of The
Greater Samuel. The Wheppersnade Priest wouldn't be shaken in his own
faith, particularly as his Chapel was home to a wondrous relic: The
Sacred Scourer of the Blessed Samuel. The heroes were unimpressed by the
sponge on a stick.
The priest was excited by their presence
however, and certain that they had been sent by the Blessed Samuel ("The
Greater Samuel," corrected Grog) to deliver Wheppersnade Cove. The
heroes finalised their plans. Using banners from the church, and iron
railings from the fence, and with a giant Jabbersnatch Cabbage on his
head, they would dress Drak the Troll up as the Cabbage King. He would
ride down the road on Betsy into the village, flinging iron spears at
any Fomorians who dared face his wrath, while the two Priests would lead
his way declaring the wrathful deity's return.
Meanwhile, Murghu
and Urlas would descend the cliffs - the Ghoul would approach and arm
the penned villagers with iron spears from the Chapel fence, and Urlas
(assisted by his Pixie follower) would sneak around the Moot Hall and
ring the village bell, hoping to distract, confuse and panic the
Fomorians.
Unfortunately, Murghu's and Urlas's parts of the plan
had mixed results. The villagers were alarmed by the Ghoul who emerged
from the darkness urging them to rise up. Urlas was spotted by a nearby
group of Fomorians who attacked him - one picking up the elf and hurling
him against the cliff face.
The Return of the Cabbage King
All
turned on the arrival of the Cabbage King! Down the valley he lumbered -
and the effect on nearby Fomorians were immediate. As the priests cried
doom and repentance, the Cabbage King hurled spears, and Betsy snorted
menacingly, Sally swinging a censer and gleefully joining in with the
charade. The Fomorians who had been on guard screamed - some ran into
the sea, some ran into the village, some ran straight into the cliff
face and knocked themselves out. All spread the panic wherever they
went, and the Cabbage King and his doomsaying retinue pressed on into
the heart of the village.
Urlas was able to fight back and shoot
deadly arrows at the Fomorians, his pixie set the bell a-ringing. At
last the villagers realised that all this tumult was their means of
rescue, and the grim Ghoul their saviour. They grabbed the spears,
rallied behind Murghu, and started to drive any remaining Fomorians into
their boats and back off to sea. The little priest ran around waving
his Sacred Scourer, certain that this was the instrument of the
village's liberation. No one paid him much mind.
With the villagers routing the main force of Fomorians, our heroes headed into the Moot Hall to confront their chief.
On
a throne built with a ramshackle assortment of common objects - a
broken lobster pot, a wagon wheel, copper kettles, broken bedsteads, and
other junk sat the Fomorian chief. Balor was huge, even for a Fomorian,
with a single, terrible red eye. He roared defiance at the heroes.
Before him, Mr Sprindlestep stood looking very shady and unsure of
himself.
Grog whipped out his prayer book, and cast Sleep.
Balor
yawned, closed his single eye, and toppled over, crushing and pinning
Mr Sprindlestep to the ground. The villagers bound him in ropes, and Mr
Sprindlestep too, and the two were thrown into the last longship before
it departed.
Two bags filled with gold and treasure were found,
that Mr Sprindlestep had been carrying. The heroes deduced that the
little villain had clearly been getting the cream of the Fomorians'
marauding, and leaving them the dregs. The rest of the Fomorian loot was
junk. The heroes declared that they would take no reward themselves,
but one bag of gold should be given to the Cabbage King, the other
could go towards the chapel's roof (and now fence) restoration fund.
The
grateful villagers feted the heroes with a fish supper. They even
allowed Drak the Troll to join them, who turned up after the Cabbage
King had departed. He was much mocked by the villagers for not daring to
take part in their liberation.
After saying their farewells, the
heroes set off together, with the bag of gold recovered from where the
'Cabbage King' had stashed it. They set off to find Magistrate Cannock,
and claim their reward for driving off the Fomorians.
They found
the Magistrate at the Hark to Bounder Inn. When they tried to claim the
bounty, he angrily dismissed them. How dare they try to claim credit
for delivering Wheppersnade Cove, when all knew that the Goblins of
Jabbersnatch Gulley had tricked them with their hoary old Cabbage King
routine? Besides which, the Grand Cabbage Wallah had already been and
collected the reward...
***
This was a delight! Much
arose from the inventiveness of the players and their willingness to run
along with ideas. The casting of Sleep on Balor was a very dramatic
moment. I told the players how I had once before run a game and learned
how string Sleep could be in Talisman when a player had kept casting
Sleep on the Dread Wyrm and rolling over its Threat... At that point,
the Priest player told me that it was they themself who had pulled off
the Scandalous Wyrm-Sleeping of Expo 2021 - and that they had
deliberately chosen Sleep and saved it for that moment after what they
had learned in the game two years earlier. I was hoodwinked by a sneaky
return player!
The session was enormous fun, with some highly
entertaining interactions between the heroes, Strangers, Followers and
Foes. Many thanks to all players: but your card is marked now Jo! Fool
me three times? Surely not.
Session 4: The Dragon's Lair (D.A.N.G.I.T.I.D.O.I.D. take 2)
Saturday afternoon at Airecon 2023 and time for the 4th session of Talisman Adventures, and second take of Death And Neverending Glory In The Infamous Dungeon Of Inescapable Doom!
In
the dim corners of my mind, DANGITIDOID is intended to be an epic
dungeon crawling experience distilled into about three hours of play.
The intent is to use Talisman's Exploration mechanism throughout: the
players will state their intent over where they are heading, make Guide
and Watcher Tests, and the outcomes (Failure, Standard Success, Great
Success, Extraordinary Success) will determine just where they end up,
and whether they encounter monsters, traps, or special locations.
First
and foremost though, I want to provide a fun experience for players.
This meant that as with the first run through, I ended up calling for
fewer tests, and letting the narrative and player choices play a bigger
role.
I had put together some third level characters as
pre-gens for DANGITIDOID, with some fun combinations including new
classes from Tales from the Dungeon. Vampire is a great fit for the
Minstrel class - and allows for a nice (or rather, not-so-nice) synergy
between acquiring and consuming Followers. In previous sessions, I've
occasionally found players to be disappointed with the Dwarf Priest,
that he wouldn't be smiting foes with the Holy Hammer of Dwarven
Justice, and because of the general reluctance to play a character that
seems to only have a support role. There really are some good spells
available for the Priest - Marked for Glory allows a rare option to
affect Tests after the dice are rolled without spending Light Fate, and
Sleep can work against high Threat foes as long as the Test is rolled
high enough. So far, I've not seen any complaints from people choosing
the Minotaur Priest. The Minotaur Ancestry allows options to pitch into
combat with their horns, without having to break the weapon taboo, and a
Holy Cow is surely fun to play.
I learnt from last session and
didn't hand out all the cheatsheets straight away, but passed them on
during the session when the powers were actually in use, or for players
to look at during breaks in play.
As the adventure is really just
a set of potential encounters that might occur in any order, it turned
out that I used a completely different set of encounters from the first
session. I ditched Rescue Betsy the Cow, and instead kicked things off
with a variant on what I had originally planned as the opener for
Wheppersnade Cove. Thus, this was an entirely different adventure. The
great thing about running three work-in-progress adventures is that I
can chop and change and Frankenstein as need or whim drives me...
The Heroes
Axel the Minotaur Priest
Ghary the Ghoul Assassin
Dirk Doomhammer, Dwarf Tomb Raider
Clemmy the Troll Warrior
Vlad the Vampire Minstrel
***
Crime and Punishment
The
heroes were dragged in shackles before a bad-tempered Troll Magistrate,
who glowered at them sternly. A crowded gallery of assorted goodfolk
looked down in fearful fascination, murmuring at each other at the sight
of these horrendous villains.
"What a sorry bunch of miscreants you are. Pass me the charge sheet, sergeant!"
The
Troll received a scroll from an armoured guard. He unfurled it,
squinted, and read out in a voice trembling with indignation...
(I
had each player roll 3d6, and call out the result from each die, to
determine the charge their character faced. A piece of random
silliness, which the players went along with gamely. I particularly
enjoyed their responses to the crimes. If I had prepared sufficiently, I
would probably have handed a copy of the table itself to players,
mocked up as a charge sheet. It feels in the spirit of Talisman.)
"You Broke the Warlock's Mule? Outrageous! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"He was asking for it," replied the Dwarf, quite unrepentant.
Angry shouts from the gallery.
"Dear
oh dear! Such a callous disregard for property and a poor beast of
burden? Who's next? You, you shady-looking Ghoul. Stand before me and
face justice. What was your crime, let me see. Good grief! You Stole the
Black Knight's Daughter?"
"Only her heart," said the Ghoul with a smile.
"Impudence!
And you, you long-horned Priest, who surely should know better. Let us
see the charge here... Disgraceful! Scandalized the Warlock's Daughter!
This is unheard of! No words for your shameful deed eh? Next!"
Cries and swoons in the gallery.
Clemmy stood before Magistrate Cannock, who fixed the younger Troll with an even steelier glare still.
"You Doubted the Black Knight's Mule? Doubted the Black Knight's Mule!"
"It was no better than it should be."
Loud boos and shaken fists from the gallery.
Magistrate Cannock was at a loss for words. The Vampire Minstrel was last to stand.
"Let me see, let me see. Oh, horror! You Broke the Queen's Grandfather?" gasped the Troll.
"I thought the old man was a bit more robust," replied Vlad casually.
Shocked cries from the gallery. A scream and thud as someone fainted.
The Magistrate banged his iron mace on the desk before him, silencing the court room.
"Enough!
Enough! Never in all my days have I heard such a list of terrible
crimes, and seen such churlish lack of remorse. However-"
Here the Magistrate paused dramatically before proceeding.
"However,
be that as it may, I am a firm believer in the principle of redemption
for even the most miserable of sinners. And surely you are a miserable
bunch indeed. Be that as it may, whilst I am ready to dispense
immediate, painful, and final punishment, something moves me today to
leniency. I am prepared to offer you all a path to absolution. Will you
take it?"
The prisoners looked at each other, shrugged, and decide sure, why not.
"Redemption
is easy. Getting soft in my old age. Recover The Chalice and your
sentence is quashed. Fail, and you will have cause to regret it! It was
taken by, let me see, ah yes, taken by a Dragon. Just the one
apparently. Recover the Chalice, and all is forgiven. Simple. Now, if
you will please just go on through and see the Portalmeister, they will
put you on the right path. Well? What are you waiting for? Clear out,
the lot of you."
The Portal of Blue Doom
The accused were ushered through to a chamber where an aloof Leywalker stood, preening its horns.
"How's this supposed to work then?" asked Clemmy, dubiously.
"Simple,"
said the Leywalker, "I will open a portal, it will carry you to the
approximate location of the Chalice within the Dungeon of Inescapable
Doom. You just need to locate the Dragon, which ought to be easy enough
to find. Grab the Chalice, whack it with this here Runestone, and you'll
be carried back. Job done. Simple, really."
Clemmy took the Runestone and eyed it suspiciously.
Not waiting to hear any further questions, the Leywalker weaved its hands, and a disc of blue light appeared.
"Hurry up now, step through. I've got a party off to find Devil Dolls in the Jungles of Quoth in five minutes."
Clemmy leaped into the magic portal. The others followed, with only the slightest hesitation.
And
found themselves tumbling through space, as weird energies crackled
around them, for what might have been an age, or a moment. Vlad sang a
ballad to keep everyone's spirits raised. Dirk hoped that either the
tumbling or the singing would soon end.
(Vlad's player
suggested that while they were falling through Portal space he would
sing a song to inspire and unite the group. I liked this as an action
that could influence the effect of how well the portal delivered the
party to the Dungeon, so had an Entertain Test rolled at Moderate
Difficulty, resulting in a Standard Success.)
In the
ethereal portal-space, Vlad's song tapped into the weft and weave of
legend, and like a lodestone drew the heroes to the right path. The
portal opened delivering the heroes to a vast flooded chamber, with
rickety wooden walkways and gantries criss-crossing it, and tunnel
openings here and there at all levels.
Unfortunately, the portal delivered the heroes about thirty meters up in the air. They plummeted toward the dark waters below!
Goblin/Hero Relations and Collective Bargaining
(The
Troll's player asked "As we fall, can I get a rope out, tie everyone
together, and lasso it onto one of the walkways?" Why not? Test at High
Difficulty: Great Success.)
In an act of
impossibility-defying dexterity, Clemmy managed to unravel and throw out
a rope for her companions to grab, and to lasso one end of it round a
walkway as they fell past. The rope caught, the party held on, and the
whole lot found themselves swinging from the creaking walkway, with Dirk
at the bottom end of the rope able to dip his toes in the surface of
the subterranean lake.
Spinning slowly on the rope, they were
able to look around, and notice that on the shores of the lake, and from
most of the dozens of various tunnel entrances - including at either
end of the walkway from which they were suspended, were gangs of Goblin
miners. SOme ignored the heroes, others shook their tools menacingly.
"I
don't fancy taking a swim and finding out if there's anything worse
than Goblins in this lake," said Dirk. "Get climbing gang!"
The
heroes scrambled up the rope, and started making their way towards a
gang of Goblins who blocked the far end of the walkway.
About a
dozen Goblins faced the heroes, scowling, and fingering pickaxes and
hammers. Vlad stepped forwards, with Vampiric charm and ease.
"Have you fellows heard of the Dragon hereabouts?"
"Nyergh, 'course we know ver Dragon."
"Indeed,
smart fellows like you. And I imagine you're tired of its tyranny, and
lusting after its gold, eh? Who's the leader here?"
The scrawniest little Goblin jerked a thumb at his chest.
"Ok, I'm sure none of you want to die here and now, and all of you'd like to be rich. Let's see if I can help you with that."
(It
didn't make any sense for the Goblins to just attack and die, and the
players were willing to parley. We used the Stranger Attitude chart to
set an initial difficulty (Disliked), and a Persuasion roll followed
with a Great Success. Tests in Talisman can cover the broad outcome of a
situation, so it often works to have a little bit of roleplay and see
where that goes. We then pause and discuss objectives for the players,
and then decide on the Test, and who might be Assisting. Here, the
heroes found out from the Goblins that they knew where the Goblin was,
and that the Goblins didn't much care for it. They were able to persuade
the Goblins to join them.)
Heated negotiations followed, in
which the Goblins agreed they would help to find the Dragon and get its
treasure. The Goblins would get all of the treasure, except one or two
(unspecified) items. The Goblins insisted on this being put in a
Contract, which they were very pleased with. They assured the heroes
that they would definitely help, and that this would be easy. Not
entirely filled with confidence in their new allies, the heroes asked
them to lead the way.
(Ten Goblins are acquired as a group
of Followers. The players understand that the Goblins are trying to get
the most out of their contract, and they expect to be double-crossed.
They aren't too concerned about keeping any of their own end of the
bargain anyway.)
With the Goblins' assistance, Axel led the
heroes through the mines and into ancient crypts. At length, a large set
of double doors blocked the path ahead.
The Ghoul summoned his Spirit Follower.
"Ssssss?"
"Tell us what lies ahead, and part of your bond to me is paid."
The spirit passed through the doors. A few moments later it returned.
"Ssss. A ssstatue. No foessss. Another door ahead. Ssssss."
Dirk gave the doors a careful examination.
"No problem folks," he said as he turned the handle, "definitely no traps he-"
The
floor opened up and Dirk disappeared from view. The others looked down
and saw that the dwarven tomb raider had narrowly avoided being impaled
on a vicious set of spikes, and was looking up sheepishly.
"Little help here, please."
The Brass Robot of Doom
At
a second try, the doors were opened without further mishap. In the
chamber beyond stood an enormous brass statue: an armoured colossus with
both legs wide apart, and a huge brass mace raised above its head.
Another door was visible on the far side of the chamber, a short walk between the statue's legs.
"OK Goblins, you're up."
"Nyergh, check ver Contrack. Goblins Never Go First!"
Sure
enough, a new clause had somehow appeared at the bottom of the
Contract. Heated discussion and speculation ensued. Finally, the Ghoul
broke away, and strode towards the statue. With a grinding and clanging
of gears, the statue began lifting its Mace a little higher.
"It looks very slow, anyhow," said Ghary. He took another step.
The
mace swung down with lightning speed, the Assassin was grazed as he
leapt to one side, the mace crashing down and sending splinters of stone
flying. Now fully animated, eyes glowing red, the statue engaged the
Assassin in deadly combat!
Clemmy looked at the giant brass
automaton, and looked at the door. Clemmy noted that the statue was a
lot bigger than the door. The Troll nimbly dashed through the chamber,
and out to the corridor beyond. The other heroes and goblins looked at
each other, then swiftly followed. The Ghoul leapt aside as the mace
crashed down once more, and scrambled for the exit too.
(I
had riddles and a big brass robot fight all lined up. Sensible choice
from the heroes here: just get the hell out of there, and the devil take
the hindmost. Ghary's player did not take it personally, and was able
to escape without taking too much damage.)
On they passed
through dungeons deep. The Goblins had clearly exaggerated their
familiarity with the route, but were confident that the Dragon's lair
was close. The air grew warmer. Ahead was a dim red glow. Dirk raised a
hand in caution, and the party halted. The dwarf got out his tools, and
started poking and prodding at the stone work. A loud ticking started.
"Everyone
run," he said, and sprinted towards the glow. The heroes, Goblins and
assorted other followers scrambled in his wake. The floor began to
tremble.
The floor suddenly dropped away below two Goblin stragglers, and the Priest's faithful Servant.
"Pleasure to be of service sir..."
His voice trailed away, lost in unknown depths below.
"Ah well. What's ahead?"
The River of Fire
The
corridor opened into one side of snaking fissure, down which a river of
lava flowed. The corridor continued on the other side of the molten
rock.
"Nyergh, sposed ter be a bridge ere, innit?" commented the Goblin leader.
Clemmy smiled, took out her trusty rope and grabbed him and the next smallest Goblin.
"Don't struggle," she warned as she bound the two together.
Clemmy
then hurled the goblins across the fissure, with the rope trailing
behind. Crunch. Yaaargh! Fsssshhht. It was a good shot, and almost made
it to the tunnel entrance. A little more to the right next time. Clemmy
hauled back the remains of the rope, the end still smouldering. She
grabbed two more Goblins.
"Ey! Dats not in ver Contrack!"
Clemmy looked down at the smouldering flow of lava.
"Was
the Contract written on asbestos?" she asked. "Don't worry. Your share
of the hoard just went up. Plus, you're the boss now!"
"Yarr! Me ver Boss!"
Wheee. Crunch. Yaargh. Fsssshht.
Third
time was the charm. The two recently-promoted Goblin pioneers
high-fived each other andsecured the rope on a precarious-looking
jutting piece of rock. One by one, the party shimmied across. Safely,
for the most part, though as the rope sagged lower with each crossing,
some got a trifle singed. The Goblins congratulated each other on their
vastly increased share of the soon-to-be-acquired treasure.
(How
they crossed the lava was entirely up to the players. They could also
have looked for another way round, or gone hunting for bridge pieces.
The Priest's player wondered if she could cast Black Ice and them all
dash across - improbable, certainly, but I would probably have let it
work. The Troll's player's decision to just start hurling goblins across
with a rope attached was a fun solution (well, for the table, if not
the Goblins - I had to let go of my Goblin union rep character at the
first Fail. No room for sentiment in Talisman). Rather than make each
player roll a Test for the crossing, as in general for this type of
situation, I prefer to let one player's Test stand for the whole group.
It was a Great Success - Standard would surely have said goodbye to a
bunch more Followers and a bit of burn damage for a few heroes at
random. Failure could have been interesting. Regardless of the Great
Success, I did singe a few of the heroes for a couple points of damage -
important that there be some consequences to shimmying across a rope
over a river of lava.)
The dungeon ran deeper, the halls
becoming grander, with tell-tale signs of Dwarven craft, proudly pointed
out by Dirk. Axel pondered runic portents of Doom...
"Over dere!" whispered a Goblin dramatically.
Double
doors stood open to a vast chamber, with towering columns and arches,
and mounds of gold coins and all manners of fabulous treasure. And
sleeping atop, unmistakably, a Huge Dragon. Smoke curled lazily from its
nostrils.
The Dragon's Lair
The
heroes cautiously backed up, and entered into whispered discussion of
what to do next. Ghary sent his Spirit to look for the Chalice.
(We have reached the climactic Dragon's Lair. Anything goes here. The heroes decided on yer classic Hoard burglary.)
The Spirit returned.
"Sssss. It liessss by the belly of the beasssst."
The Ghoul made sure that he was aware of the exact location of the Chalice.
"Your debt is paid."
The Spirit dissipated. Ghary flexed his fingers.
"I'm going in," said the Ghoul, "I've got this."
He
practically melted into the shadows, and crept into the chamber,
treading softly over the piles of gold. The others watched, holding
their breath, as Ghary crept closer and closer to the Dragon.
(The
Ghoul Assassin is equipped with a Shadow Dagger, which allows for some
serious sneaking. I'm needing a very high roll for Success however.)
There was the Chalice, almost within reach. Ghary reached out, slowly, slowly.
(The
player pantomimed this slow reaching out, nicely adding to the tension
while the group waited to hear the outcome of the Test. With adds it was
a high roll... but not quite high enough. I generally make Test targets
open knowledge, but not at this instance. Strictly for dramatic
purposes, of course.)
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
The voice was ancient, terrible, and accompanied by a sulfurous crackling.
"Ah."
The
Ghoul grabbed for the Chalice, but the piles of gold swirled as the
Dragon rose up, and the Chalice slipped out of his reach.
"Oh dear."
There was a blast of blazing Dragonfire. The Assassin somersaulted backwards, nimbly avoiding the flame.
"Let's see how this turns out," muttered Clemmy as she charged in, swinging a pair of axes and leapt at the Dragon.
(Dragon
fight! How do 3rd level heroes stack up against a Dragon in Talisman
Adventures? Something I was curious to find out. As it turned out, not
terribly. I used the Dragon stats from the Core Rulebook (toyed with the
idea of throwing in one of the Dragons from Myths & Monsters, but I
think that would have been a bit much), which has Threat 20, 21 Armour,
and 30 Life. The Troll's attacks were at +8 to hit, so getting a
Success was about an even chance. The Ghoul was next best in combat,
with a +6 using the Rapier (and a 1 in 6 chance of bypassing armour,
which could be handy). Of course, the problem is the damage that the
Dragon can dish out, which is going to be inflicted for every Standard
Success (halved) or Failure (full). 2d6 +8 for bite, 1d6+8 for claws. I
had a stack of Dark Fate built up through the session, and no qualms
about spending them touse the Dragon's Flame Breath: 4d6 damage - on
average not as effective as the bite, but better than the claws, and
much more impressive.)
Clemmy hit and her axes bit deep, but the Dragon blasted her with flame in retaliation.
(Clemmy's armour soaked up the damage. She can take a couple such. But the outcome on a Success gave pause for thought.)
Ghary struck, but his rapier bounced off the Dragon's hide. Ghoul roast!
(The
damage is much more serious for the Ghoul, who had missed, and only has
Leather Armour. This results in tactical reconsideration for the
players.)
"Keep the Wyrm occupied," the Priest bellowed to
the Troll, "and I will call on the High Powers to aid you. You others,
find the Chalice!"
Flames roared! Clemmy's axes struck and
missed, struck and bit. Dirk yoohooed for the Dragon's attention, as he
shovelled gold and treasures into his magical Bottomless Haversack. Each
of the others scrambled and sought to grab the Chalice, hoping not to
get fried. Axel drew on the High Powers, Goblins screamed and ducked as
flames spread in all directions.
Clemmy threw down her axes and
leapt at the Chalice. Axel spent the last drop of Holy power to aid the
Troll. Clemmy seized the Chalice, and drew out the Runestone! The
others piled on, grabbing a hold of the Troll.
"Hmm, strike the Chalice, or perhaps I should throw both down the Dragon's maw, see how the Magistrate deals with that..."
"Strike the Chalice!"
The Runestone struck the Chalice, and the heroes vanished in a blue flash.
"Nyergh! Is all ours, all ours!" chanted the two surviving Goblins as they danced on the piles of gold.
"Ahem," said the Dragon.
A Job Well Done
In
the courtroom of Magistrate Cannock, the aged Troll was contentedly
sipping a cup of tea, resting one huge gout-ridden leg up on his desk.
It had been a long day.
There was a flash of blue light, and out
of the ceiling dropped a very badly singed Troll, Vampire, Dwarf,
Minotaur and Ghoul (and assorted surviving Followers).
Clemmy
strode over, and banged the Chalice down on Cannock's desk. The five
heroes stared grimly at the Magistrate. Then they turned and left the
courtroom, Dirk distributing handfuls of Dragon gold from his haversack
amongst them as they went.
Alone once more, Magistrate Cannock
looked at the battered and bent object before him. I don't suppose I
should point out that this might be a chalice, but certainly isn't The
Chalice, he thought to himself. He sighed, grabbed a quill and a piece
of parchment, and started to write out a Warrant...
***
This
was yet another hugely enjoyable session. My report does nothing to
capture the witty banter that flew between players throughout: my
note-taking was limited and memory questionable (though the responses to
the criminal charges are verbatim). The players did a great job of
getting stuck into the spirit of the game. It was really rewarding to
see a group of complete strangers come together and turn some very
sketchy notes and dubious GM scene-linking into a rollicking adventure
enjoyed by all. They kindly allowed me to take a photograph of the
group, which was the only time I had my wits together enough to ask for
it, but unfortunately a fumbled my photography Test, so my distorted
memories are all that remain.