I tried something new last Sunday -- I took my laptop to the game and recorded notes directly. Does it improve the quality?



A new challenger appears! Rhuarc's player was absent last time, but now arrives to cobble together a character. An explanation of the rolling methods used leads to Azer complaining!

Azer: I had to use the point-buy system, otherwise I would've been a crappy bard. Ten Charisma. (flat-voiced, cracked singing) Gree-Ee-ensleeves...
Khor: How many roads must Greensleeves walk down before she can get her a man?

Khor attempts to find the Complete Arcane so as to convince Rhuarc to play a warmage, but is unable to locate the book. Rhuarc's player considers a few different classes, finally settling on barbarian -- after expressing some concern that the DM will just kill him off if he plays another character class, or simply cheerful resignation to any character being killed off, at that.

Khor: The DM's not as arbitrary and capricious as I am.... any more. Ask him about the metal dinosaurs.
DM: You mean the adamantite raptors?
Khor: Yeah, those.
Rhuarc: Was Jesus riding one?

Historical note: Yes, really. Goddamn adamantite raptors.

Azer: Where was that prestige class I was going for?
Khor: In the Complete Arcane.
Azer: (produces the book from beneath his chair to look for the book)
Khor: And that's why I couldn't find the Complete Arcane.
DM: Just let me know when you're done creating this character and he can show up for the fight.
Khor: (eyeing the mini board, where the four PCs present are facing off against five goblins and a hobgoblin) How many goblins will be showing up to compensate for his arrival?
DM: Don't worry about it, you'll be able to handle this group easily. (a moment passes) To answer your question, fifteen.
Banorm: (reaching for a d20) This is the first character I've had who has a minus on his initiative.
Khor: My god, you've betrayed everything you stand for.

The DM takes a moment to explain to Rhuarc the nature of superstition and racism in the campaign. Banorm helpfully chips in with an example of the standard human reaction to elves.

Banorm: Get outta here, pointy!

Combat begins, as the DM realizes Rhuarc has been done with his character for like fifteen minutes. Willow opens by shooting the hobgoblin with her bow, while Azer, as a bard, begins to sing.

DM: The hobgoblin reaches into his belt and pulls out a small silver horn, which he blows into. "Brethren, more scalps have come for the taking!"
Khor: BuhBAAAH! Barbarians appear!
Azer: Is he speaking Goblin?
DM: Yes!
Azer: I understand him! I'll work this into my song. (singing) "Nooo you won't take our scaaalps!.
DM: Okay, the goblins take a -1 morale penalty for 1 round.

Khor does a Charging Minotaur maneuver into a goblin, dealing 2d6+Strength to it to the DM's disgust. The goblins advance on the heroes. Banorm traces out a 15 foot cone for a Fire-domain cast of Burning Hands.

Khor: By the power of that burny thing that don't have a name!
Banorm: Feel the heat of the burning forge!
Khor: (abruptly noticing the placement of a candle) Uh, I don't know if the best place for that candle is right in the middle of towers of flammable things...

Initiative cycles around, leading to Azer brandishing his crossbow.

Azer: A one. Shit! Well, I'm dead. Shot my foot off or something...
Khor: (tracing the flight path of the bolt on the mini map) You shot your sister.
DM: Fortunately crossbows haven't been invented in this world... um, which I forgot to mention.
Azer: What?
Banorm: It's like a Looney Tunes weapon, you pull the trigger and it just poofs into smoke.
Khor: There's your critical fumble, you erased the existence of your own weapon.
Azer: (dazed) Well, I guess I have a shortbow now...

Though the PCs have been chewing through the mook-goblins, more suddenly emerge from the mists surrounding the battlefield.

Willow: It's "Goblins in the Mist" instead of gorillas.
DM: That's actually what I named this adventure. (getting up to rummage through the miniatures in search of more goblins to place)
Banorm: You don't need to get new ones... we can just reuse the dead ones.
DM: Oh yeah!

The PCs dispatch goblins left and right, occasionally two at a time to the DM's immense annoyance. The last remaining goblin falls to its knees and whimpers pathetically.

Rhuarch: (to the goblin-speaking Azer) What is he saying?
Azer and Khor: (bursting into song) He's begging for his liiiife!

DM: (adjusting the minis) Okay, the girl moves forward --
Azer: That's the dude!
DM: What?
Khor: The other mini is the girl. That's the dude.
DM: What?

Khor, superstitious and prejudiced against magic-users as is appropriate for the campaign setting, accuses the half-elf mage who'd brought Azer's sister into the woods of being in cahoots with the goblins and attempting to sacrifice said sister to fuel his evil powers. While the half-elf bristles, Khor and Rhuarc - who are both playing misanthropic forest-dwellers -- discuss if their characters know each other.

Rhuarc: I remember smelling you before.
Khor: My character actually has that quality...
Rhuarc: (a double-take priceless in its comedic quality)

The characters flee to the collapsible bridge, intending to collapse it to prevent the goblins from passing. Banorm goes first, but halfway through a hobgoblin emerges from the mist on the other side and attempts to trip him with a spiked chain!

Banorm: (discovering that dwarves have a +4 against trip as a racial bonus) Hey, did I ever get bull-rushed in your campaign?
Khor: Yeah, when you got pushed off the tower.
Banorm: Damn, I never applied this bonus.
DM: Well, he fails badly.
Khor: Now you can try to trip him, unless he drops his spiked chain.
Banorm: Is he dropping it?
DM: No. He loves his spiked chain, it shows on his face.

Banorm fails to trip him. The DM puts down more minis on the other side of the bridge.

DM: Two more javelineers appear!
Khor: Fuck you, players!
Rhuarc: Is there any way I could get past Banorm to engage the hobgoblin.
DM: You could jump.
Rhuarc: (rolls)
Khor: You jumped four feet in height.
Banorm: I'm 4'2".
Khor: Ha, you knocked his hat off.
DM: That sounds cool. Your coif goes off into the river below.
Banorm: THAT WAS MADE OF FUCKING IRON!
Rhuarc: Is there any way I could knock him off the bridge?
DM: You could do a bull-rush attack.
Khor: No, that's only straight back.
DM: Well, I'll let you trip him.
Rhuarc: (succeeds)
DM: Okay, you knocked him off the bridge... but his spiked chain is still wrapped around Banorm's leg!
Azer: He Gandalfed you! From the middle of the bridge!
Banorm: Wait, he went off the side, and the chain is still wrapped around my leg?
DM: Yes.
Banorm: I jump off the other side.

Understandably, Rhuarc gets confused when the minis are adjusted, and the DM attempts to clarify.

DM: The hobgoblin is hanging on this side, and Banorm is hanging on this one.
Khor: And you're in the middle, with the chain between your legs...
Rhuarc: He actually jumped?!
Banorm: Yes.
Rhuarc: I thought that was just a hairbrained scheme.
Khor: IT WAS but he did it ANYWAY!
Azer: All he has to do is let go to kill you!
Khor: "I'm taking you with me!"
Azer: He could swim!
Khor: (pointing to the map) He's above a giant rock. "So long, suck--" CRUNCH!
DM: Even Michael Phelps wouldn't dare this river!

An argument erupts about the exact length and spike locations on a spiked chain. The PCs slay goblins left and right. The DM dramatically describes the river turning red with blood, only to sheepishly recant when the PCs question how a deep, rushing river could be turning red from a few goblins. The rest of the night is spent making jokes about the quantity of blood in goblins. Banorm slays the dangling hobgoblin as he attempts to swing to safety. Azer rushes for the other end of the bridge, running past Banorm.

Khor: Pull him up!
Azer: Oh.
DM: Make a strength check!
Banorm: A one!

The melee fighters take up position on the far end of the bridge, preparing to engage the goblins as they swarm across

Rhuarc: I don't think we can break them by ourselves.
Khor: But we can give them one humongous repair bill!
Rhuarc: (singing) "When I see what I want I'm gonna take it!"
Azer: (fires an arrow which misses)
DM: Your arrow floats away!
Azer: Floats?
DM: I don't know why I said that.

For some reason, Azer talks like a dwarf. The other players note he uses a... different accent than they do, and question him as to why.

Azer: I believe dwarves are from Sweden!

A goblin javelineer launches a crippling shot into Khor's melee.

Khor: You did take into account the -4 from that other guy?
DM: They are smaller than you..
Khor: But I'm still in melee...
DM: No....

Laughter erupts as the party collapses the bridge and returns swiftly to town, where they haul the half-elf in front of the town circle of elders. Khor, still a prejudiced bastard, demonizes the half-elf thoroughly, while Azer scourges him for attempting to date his sister.

Khor: "His magic was evil! Not like the good healing done by Bannorn... Barnnen..."
Banorm: Banorm!
Azer: "You know, maybe you would have had a chance. Instead of sneaking off with her, maybe you could have done this the proper way, come to my father, done the honorable thing. If you'd done this right you might have been accepted."
DM: He looks at you in disbelief? "Truly?
Azer: "No... no."
DM: He starts to cry.

The half-elf, attempting to refute allegations that he'd bewitched Azer's sister by magic, recites some of the poems he'd written, to prove that it was his sensitive soul that had charmed her.

Khor: I heckle him.
DM: Well, you could roll Intimidate...
Khor: 21. ...wow, this is the biggest jackass I've ever played. My alignment is gonna be shifting here...
DM: No, this is the sort of thing that's common in this town, this is good roleplaying.

The Elders decree that the half-elf may remain in the town only if Azer's father agrees.

DM: Your father opens his mouth to speak, when suddenly your grandfather emerges!
Khor: From his mouth!

A horrible tangent about ancestors who live in stomachs ensues. The half-elf is banished from the town, and the PCs set about using their various professions and exploring the wilderness...