Dragon of Life (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonoflife) wrote2010-01-12 11:05 am
dragonoflife) wrote2010-01-12 11:05 am
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It's been forever since I've done a game report, hasn't it?
Our group picked up a game I haven't talked about in literally half a year, so I invite the intrepid reader to refresh themselves here and here.
To recap: after a treacherous journey through the jungles, the PCs have at last reached the city of Cahsport, a Guild semi-stronghold and a port from which they hope to find passage back to the southern continent. The river pours over a small cliff as it exits the jungle, into the wide fields that are densely farmed, until about a mile away it plunges over yet another cliff cut-out of the shore, into which the city has been built. City walls surround the upper lip of the cliff, and above the city floats a massive airship.
Ralth: Aww crap.
Sargassas: How deep is the river?
DM: It's a pretty big river.
Sargassas: I'm going to dive in and swim underneath the water! I can breathe underwater!
DM: What about your horse?
Sargassas: (brief pause) It's a special breed that's half lizard... man or... it can breathe underwater! So... never mind.
Ralth: "Get in there!" (miming first pushing, then a bloated corpse surfacing)
Iglar: That's okay, I can butcher it for meat.
Dian: And you love eating ponies!
DM: And wolves!
Iglar: That's a hobby!
While the others discuss possible disguises -- Ralth is, after all, persona non gratis amongst his people -- Dian turns to the NPC boy they'd brought with them, Elwood, to give him his payment. Dian's player has decided on the mellow, sonorous tones of Christopher Lee for his character's voice.
Dian: "Here, lad. Don't spend it all in one place." (While the other players try to restrain their laughter, he drops OOC to join the disguise conversation) I can just stick my tail in my pants, that'll hide it.
DM: You're a monk, you don't normally wear pants anyway.
Dian: I don't have pants?
DM: Yeah, you wear robes.
Dian: (right back into Christopher Lee) "Lad, give me your trousers, I demand them."
Succeeding on a Spot check, Ralth is the first to notice the airship cannons slowly swivelling. The airship discharges a broadside into the jungle some ways away from where they're standing.
Khoriane: All right, we're heading for the city!
Sargassas: They won't fire at their own farmlands!
DM: Okay, you guys head for the city as fast as you can, which isn't much considering Ralth's speed is twenty.
Iglar: I pick him up and put him on my shoulders!
DM: Are you letting yourself be carried?
Ralth: No!
Sargassas: Put him on anyway, he's small, he has a small grapple check!
Ralth: (seeing which way the wind is blowing) I'll ride the pony then!
Before the gate, a regiment of soldiers stands motionless while a gnome in plate mail speaks with a halfling. The halfling pauses insouciantly to allow the PCs to speak with the gnome.
DM: Meanwhile, Ralth is furiously adding more length to his nose...
Sargassas: "Greetings! We are adventurers who had a mission in a northern village! Now we have come seeking a ship and passage to the south."
DM: ...and suddenly you've stopped hissing?
Sargassas: It comesss and goesssssssssss.
Dian: Ha, he hissed extra long to make up for not doing it...
DM: (as the gnome) "Greetings, travellers. I'm sorry, I'm not very free to talk right now. Please, find yourself lodgings within the city and come to the town hall on the morrow, and we shall speak."
Khoriane: "Where can we find lodging?"
DM: "If you head down the main street to the docks district, you'll find places most accommodating to your.. diversity."
The party enters into the city. Iglar is determined to vendor some trash drops.
Iglar: I want to sell these short swords and leather armor.
Khoriane: Okay, Iglar, Dian, and Ralth'll go find some merchants. Sargassas and I can go find us a place to stay.
Dian: In the sleazy districts! "The Slit Purse," does that sound like a good place to stay?!
DM: (singing) Don't you know, you never split the party!
The merchant-hunting party finds a cluster of smiths down a market street. Of the three, they select the smithy at which an elven woman works, evidently specializing in arms and armor. They enter, and an older elf rises and bows to them as they do, at which point they begin to haggle.
Sargassas: She's going to be insulted you're even showing her these swords. "These are crap! Get out!"
Dian pauses to attempt to purchase magical bracers, but is told that he needs permission from city hall to do it. He checks his character sheet quickly.
Dian: Well, I'm lawful good. I have to tell the truth...
He and Ralth step out -- only to run directly into a trio of halflings heading directly for the store they just exited.
DM: The halfling in front looks at you. "Who gave you shore leave?"
Sargassas: Oh, god.
Ralth: "The captain!"
DM: Roll a bluff check...
Ralth: (does so)
DM: Wow, okay. The halfling looks surprised. "That's not like Captain Leafrunner..."
Ralth: "Oh, he and I are good."
DM: "Oh yeah? Well, I'm in good with the shipmage."
Ralth: "Oh, so am I." (rolling)
DM: "I -- you are? Wow. Allow me to shake your hand, sir." He shakes your hand, pressing a coin into your palm as he does so. "Maybe you could put in a good word for me with her."
Ralth: "Sure!"
DM: "Well then. I hope to hear good news soon."
Ralth: "I hope you're going to press more coins in my hand." I didn't actually say that.
DM: The halfling goes into the store.
Khoriane: "Ralth? Maybe you should go wait with the others..."
Ralth: "Yes, that's a very good idea."
Dian returns to the shop to ask directions, and promptly ends up in a vicious squabble with the halfling... Meanwhile, the other party members have decided to select their inn!
DM: There are three inns here, each with a different sign. One is just a few bottles. One is a sword, a shield, and a mug. The third is a chair being broken over someone's back.
Iglar: "Oooh!"
Sargassas: "No! We're going to the sword and shield one!"
DM: Aww, you didn't go to the Bar Fight.
The PCs are eventually persuaded to try a local specialty: the Crashed Airship.
DM: The bartender first pours a few inches of a very dark liquor into the glass. Then he fills the rest with a lighter one. Finally, he pours a dollop of some incredibly thick alcohol into the glass. It clings together in a cylindrical shape as it plunges through the light layer to plunge into the dark one.
Players: (awed silence)
The sessions ends as the PCs approach the town hall the next morning...
Our group picked up a game I haven't talked about in literally half a year, so I invite the intrepid reader to refresh themselves here and here.
To recap: after a treacherous journey through the jungles, the PCs have at last reached the city of Cahsport, a Guild semi-stronghold and a port from which they hope to find passage back to the southern continent. The river pours over a small cliff as it exits the jungle, into the wide fields that are densely farmed, until about a mile away it plunges over yet another cliff cut-out of the shore, into which the city has been built. City walls surround the upper lip of the cliff, and above the city floats a massive airship.
Ralth: Aww crap.
Sargassas: How deep is the river?
DM: It's a pretty big river.
Sargassas: I'm going to dive in and swim underneath the water! I can breathe underwater!
DM: What about your horse?
Sargassas: (brief pause) It's a special breed that's half lizard... man or... it can breathe underwater! So... never mind.
Ralth: "Get in there!" (miming first pushing, then a bloated corpse surfacing)
Iglar: That's okay, I can butcher it for meat.
Dian: And you love eating ponies!
DM: And wolves!
Iglar: That's a hobby!
While the others discuss possible disguises -- Ralth is, after all, persona non gratis amongst his people -- Dian turns to the NPC boy they'd brought with them, Elwood, to give him his payment. Dian's player has decided on the mellow, sonorous tones of Christopher Lee for his character's voice.
Dian: "Here, lad. Don't spend it all in one place." (While the other players try to restrain their laughter, he drops OOC to join the disguise conversation) I can just stick my tail in my pants, that'll hide it.
DM: You're a monk, you don't normally wear pants anyway.
Dian: I don't have pants?
DM: Yeah, you wear robes.
Dian: (right back into Christopher Lee) "Lad, give me your trousers, I demand them."
Succeeding on a Spot check, Ralth is the first to notice the airship cannons slowly swivelling. The airship discharges a broadside into the jungle some ways away from where they're standing.
Khoriane: All right, we're heading for the city!
Sargassas: They won't fire at their own farmlands!
DM: Okay, you guys head for the city as fast as you can, which isn't much considering Ralth's speed is twenty.
Iglar: I pick him up and put him on my shoulders!
DM: Are you letting yourself be carried?
Ralth: No!
Sargassas: Put him on anyway, he's small, he has a small grapple check!
Ralth: (seeing which way the wind is blowing) I'll ride the pony then!
Before the gate, a regiment of soldiers stands motionless while a gnome in plate mail speaks with a halfling. The halfling pauses insouciantly to allow the PCs to speak with the gnome.
DM: Meanwhile, Ralth is furiously adding more length to his nose...
Sargassas: "Greetings! We are adventurers who had a mission in a northern village! Now we have come seeking a ship and passage to the south."
DM: ...and suddenly you've stopped hissing?
Sargassas: It comesss and goesssssssssss.
Dian: Ha, he hissed extra long to make up for not doing it...
DM: (as the gnome) "Greetings, travellers. I'm sorry, I'm not very free to talk right now. Please, find yourself lodgings within the city and come to the town hall on the morrow, and we shall speak."
Khoriane: "Where can we find lodging?"
DM: "If you head down the main street to the docks district, you'll find places most accommodating to your.. diversity."
The party enters into the city. Iglar is determined to vendor some trash drops.
Iglar: I want to sell these short swords and leather armor.
Khoriane: Okay, Iglar, Dian, and Ralth'll go find some merchants. Sargassas and I can go find us a place to stay.
Dian: In the sleazy districts! "The Slit Purse," does that sound like a good place to stay?!
DM: (singing) Don't you know, you never split the party!
The merchant-hunting party finds a cluster of smiths down a market street. Of the three, they select the smithy at which an elven woman works, evidently specializing in arms and armor. They enter, and an older elf rises and bows to them as they do, at which point they begin to haggle.
Sargassas: She's going to be insulted you're even showing her these swords. "These are crap! Get out!"
Dian pauses to attempt to purchase magical bracers, but is told that he needs permission from city hall to do it. He checks his character sheet quickly.
Dian: Well, I'm lawful good. I have to tell the truth...
He and Ralth step out -- only to run directly into a trio of halflings heading directly for the store they just exited.
DM: The halfling in front looks at you. "Who gave you shore leave?"
Sargassas: Oh, god.
Ralth: "The captain!"
DM: Roll a bluff check...
Ralth: (does so)
DM: Wow, okay. The halfling looks surprised. "That's not like Captain Leafrunner..."
Ralth: "Oh, he and I are good."
DM: "Oh yeah? Well, I'm in good with the shipmage."
Ralth: "Oh, so am I." (rolling)
DM: "I -- you are? Wow. Allow me to shake your hand, sir." He shakes your hand, pressing a coin into your palm as he does so. "Maybe you could put in a good word for me with her."
Ralth: "Sure!"
DM: "Well then. I hope to hear good news soon."
Ralth: "I hope you're going to press more coins in my hand." I didn't actually say that.
DM: The halfling goes into the store.
Khoriane: "Ralth? Maybe you should go wait with the others..."
Ralth: "Yes, that's a very good idea."
Dian returns to the shop to ask directions, and promptly ends up in a vicious squabble with the halfling... Meanwhile, the other party members have decided to select their inn!
DM: There are three inns here, each with a different sign. One is just a few bottles. One is a sword, a shield, and a mug. The third is a chair being broken over someone's back.
Iglar: "Oooh!"
Sargassas: "No! We're going to the sword and shield one!"
DM: Aww, you didn't go to the Bar Fight.
The PCs are eventually persuaded to try a local specialty: the Crashed Airship.
DM: The bartender first pours a few inches of a very dark liquor into the glass. Then he fills the rest with a lighter one. Finally, he pours a dollop of some incredibly thick alcohol into the glass. It clings together in a cylindrical shape as it plunges through the light layer to plunge into the dark one.
Players: (awed silence)
The sessions ends as the PCs approach the town hall the next morning...