It’s a new day and a new game, for some player attendance has become unfortunately erratic, due to that pesky enemy of all games everywhere, real life. With the DMs universally unwilling to compromise their games by bouncing established characters in and out like yo-yos, the DM of the original Birthright campaign has elected to produce a semi-sequel to that campaign, featuring a new host of characters and taking place immediately after the Gorgon’s destruction.

Our heroes are….

Damien White: Human Unarmed Swordsage. He punches a lot. Originally intended to be a monk, until the DM pointed out that at comparative levels, unarmed swordsages could teleport around, deliver brutal elemental attacks and crippling debuffs, and respond to a variety of situations with awesome force or technique, while monks could… punch a lot.
Tergol Stormfist: Dwarf Fighter/Reaping Mauler/Swordsage. The Reaping Mauler is a prestige class focused on grappling. It can put foes into sleeper holds or even fatal choke holds at full progression. Tergol was originally going to be just Fighter/Reaping Mauler until he overheard some of the maneuvers that buffed grappling, and the DM explained just how easy it was to class into swordsage.
Lorrithrik: Rogue/Sorcerer. A spider that can assume a humanoid or half-humanoid form and cast spells. The player was absolutely thrilled to get the chance to play something out of Savage Species. Lorrithrik is male, but assumes a female elven form because he’s discovered it works better for getting his way.
Niobhe Calabghei: (Half?) elven priest of the god of battles and valor. Uses a long pointy stick, also known as a spear.
Alandris, last name untranscribable: Elven Warmage. We finally hassled this player into trying a magic-user by showing him the one with the most direct damage and limited spell list.

DM: Okay. Soooooooo….. buttons.
Damien: I thought I had Burning Blood.
DM: Burning Blade?
Damien: Burning Blade and Burning Blood, there’s two of them.
DM: Burning Ass?
Damien: Didn’t get that.

The game recorded attempts to determine if the microphone is working. It’s okay, although in retrospect it was entirely too close to the person with a cold.

DM: OK. Over the past few months the land of Ghoere… pause for laughter… has been steeped in far great secrecy, cruelty, and paranoia than ever before.
Alandris: Which land?
DM: GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOERE!
Alandris: Than ever before?
DM: YES!
Alandris: Before what?
DM: Before GHOERE went to WAR with YOUR people. Ahem. Rumor has it that the Sword Mage, the shadowy figure who serves as the wizard of this land, has in fact become the true power behind the throne.
Lorrithrik: I thought he was hacked to bits.
DM: No. Certainly you all had the misfortune of running across his Iron Guard. It took many of their skilled lieutenants and magic-users to subdue you evil vile people… or nice guys, depending… Each of you in turn was brought to heel and thrown into the oubliettes, I can’t say the word, whatever they are, you were thrown into them, deep pits in the ground.
Alandris: Don’t they have a dungeon?
DM: Yes, it’s in the dungeon. You all have been tossed into a tiny chamber, fifteen by fifteen at best, and left to rot—
Damien: Good thing none of us are giants or this’d be a small-ass room.
DM: You’ve had no contact with the outside world. Meager rations are thrown down to you twice a day and you’re left to fight over them, or distribute them however you see fit.
Alandris: Which one of you can create food?
Tergol: We have to fight over them… awww, all the guys are unconscious every time they come.
DM: And so in the pitch-black dungeon, with no light, little warmth, and stinking in your own filth, you’ve been left to rot, or so you think. (suddenly perky) However you’ve had a chance to get to know each other pretty well!
Niobhe: That’s what SHE said.
DM: So, introduce yourself to each other. I assume some of you have shown that basic level of courtesy to each other.
Alandris: But you said we’re already gotten to know each other… Let’s re-introdufe ourselves.
Tergol: All right, everyone pass your character sheets around. (pretending to read) Hmm right okay yes right okay… all right, I know you very well, thank you.
DM: Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! HA HA HA --(through clenched teeth) every challenge rating goes up by one.
Tergol: All right, more experience. “I actually have no idea why I’m here.”
Damien: “I don’t understand why I haven’t broken through these walls yet.”
DM: Because the walls are underground, where ya gonna break through to? You can punch through the wall, all you’re doing is putting the room at risk of structural collapse.
Alandris: (to Lorrithrik) Why haven’t you turned into a spider and gotten out of here – or you don’t want to give that away…
Lorrithrik: It’s a large-sized spider, so…
Chris: Everyone’s pressed up against the wall, “turn back! Turn back now!”
DM: “Let’s ride him!”
Tergol: “I’m Tergol Stormfist, sent all the way down here by my thane to check on our Overthane, but apparently I got caught.”

The DM grabs for his old campaign notes, checks the clan name, and is pleased the player actually got it right a year out of the old campaign.

Lorrithrik: “My name is Lorrithrik. I was living in this cavern when somebody put a door on it while I was still living in it and called it a prison cell.”
Damien: “So I guess you’re at home here, you don’t really need to escape.”
Alandris: Except for the door…
Lorrithrik: Well, this form that you see before you, a rather attractive elven female if it wasn’t for the fangs…. and claws… who sits mostly on a ledge on the corner spinning scarves and such out of web. She has spun herself a sleeping bag… and curtains, and all forms of macramé.
DM: Hopefully some clothes as well. Out of curiosity, how many of you have darkvision?

Everyone but Alandris raises their hand. Laughter ensues at his expense.

DM: (to the normal human, Damien) How did YOU get darkvision?
Damien: Goggles of the Night.
DM: They’re not ON you.
Damien: Oh dammit, then no.

The elves don’t either. Damien conceives of gloves that give different powers when held up properly, and much of the game time is spent determining what gesture gives what power.

Alandris: Allow myself to introdufe… myself. I am Alandris… (squinting at the elven name he chose, which he can’t pronounce) I shouldn’t have done this…
DM: (looking to Niobhe) AND?
Niobhe: I’m renaming my character so we don’t have three people with L names!
Alandris: Who’s that over there?!
DM: Who’s that Pokemon? It’s Hallucination! “You’vebeendownheretoolong.”
Niobhe: Niobhe Calabghei.
DM: You don’t know how long you’ve been trapped down here. The meals don’t even come at the same time, or evenly spaced. They’re just tossed down when someone gets around to it.

The group insists that Tergol should have a time sense. Tergol arbitrarily guesses fifteen days have passed. The DM mocks him, then emphasizes that they’re living in their own filth. Again.

Alandris: Elves don’t have filth. They’re like naturally resistant to filth.
Lorrithrik: That’s right, you have sparkles. You emit sparkes.
Alandris: We’re not vampires!
Niobhe: If you hadn’t said it, I would.

One day the door opens; a rope ladder has been tossed down to them. One by one the group moves up, only to have their hands manacled behind them while they’re surrounding by guards. Damien inexplicably decides to play out the story of Ackbar on his advancement to admiral. The chained-up figures are taken to a dark chamber where a man waits for them…

DM: Or at least you assume it’s a man, for he wears a mask over his face and a cloak made entirely of swords to hid his figure.
Alandris: What a jerk.
Niobhe: Frickin’ Sword Mage.
Alandris: Vile lightning.
DM: CHAIN vile lightning.

The PCs talk a bit of smack towards the Sword Mage, and receive in kind. Tergol attempts an Escape Artist check on his manacles, and rolls well, but unfortunately the manacles are masterwork, DC 35, so he fails.

DM: “Well then. Will you accept a task and have knowledge, or does your hatred of me run so deeply that you’d rather just be shot of me entirely, even though it means blind ignorance?”
Damien: “Wait…”
Lorrithrik: “What?”
Damien: “What?”
Alandris: ”So are you saying we go free if we decide not to work for you?”
Damien: “I missed the beginning of this conversation!”
DM: “Either way you go free. You go free as my employees or you go free into a world which has changed, and you know nothing of.”
Damien: “I’m neutral good, I can only do so much without breaking my character sheet.”
Lorrithrik: “I’ll work for you… but I’m staying away from Grandfather, he’s dangerous!”
Damien: “I don’t care, so long as I get out of that pit.” (beat) “And don’t have to kill any children.”
Alandris: That’s the deal-breaker, eh?
Damien: This guy looks like he murders children all the time.
DM: “This place I’m sending you, it SAYS orphanage, but really it’s… demons! Disguised as orphans! Ignore their innocent please for help. ‘Mister, why you gotta fireball us?’”
Alandris: Anakin, why?!
DM: “ MOUNTAIN HAMMER!”
Alandris: Oh, there goes our alignment.
DM: Ironically, they were really demons. The Sword Mage was misinformed about the nature of the orphanage.
Damien: We come back, “How does it feel to kill children?”, we’re like, “Oh no, they were demons, we’d punch them and they’d be all RAAAR and we’d punch ‘em again and they’d die. Especially the baby. He was the ringleader.”
Niobhe: Gavin Tael’s Home for Unwanted Demons.
Alandris: Above the front door it says “Give me baby!”

The PCs agree to the deal. Their manacles are stricken off and they are given their gear back. Lorrithrik takes a phone call and agrees to LEAVE ON TIME WE SWEAR MRS. LORRITHRIK. A brief contemplation of wrestling the Sword Mage to unconsciousness comes to nothing, and the Sword Mage explains much of the changes that have been wrought upon the world. Demons have been loosed into Cerilia by the Gorgon, who made a pact with them. The Gorgon is now dead, though, slain by a group of fine and magnificent heroes, who the players talk up as awesome.

Damien: We didn’t kill the Blade Mage? …we didn’t kill him? We killed the Master, that’s right!
DM: You also killed the Sword Mage… TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE!
Alandris: Verily we slew him!
DM: After many a vile chain lightning.

The Sword Mage asks them to reconnoiter and slay demons as they can. Lorrithrik has to leave, and everyone mocks him (all in good fun).

Alandris: “How do you know so much of these demons?”
DM: “I was involved in much research determining how to summon them. It was never my intention, however, for this to happen. The Gorgon is responsible for that.”
Alandris: “So you were in bed with the Gorgon.”

A pause.

Alandris: “So you were in BED…”
DM: “…stop saying that.”
Alandris: “—with the Gorgon! I’ve heard things…”
DM: “No! A spy of his stole my research!”

The DM hints that the demons have DR and resistances, but abruptly the PCs produce a veritable armada of weapons and maneuvers that can harm demons. They then hit up the Sword Mage for a reward. Alandris also demands the Sword Mage’s word – then pauses.

Alandris: What’s his… he’s lawful evil, right?
DM: How do you know?
Alandris: ‘Cuz I read it. I’m not totally ignorant… Ghoere!
DM: Graffiti on the side of the oubliette. “The Sword Mage is lawful evil.”

The Sword Mage agrees that their freedom is guaranteed and they won’t be treated as enemies. Damien questions why he chose a Wolverine voice for his character, then abruptly loses his voice, to the DM’s delight. He wanders off, is mocked in his absence, and then returns, pounding down DayQuil, to everyone’s horror and amusement.

DM: (pretending to read the label on the bottle) “Caution: do not combine with Hot Pocket sliders.”

Alandris pelts the DM with Star Crunch. The players and the DM grossly miscommunicate over their precise location for the rest of the game. The DM suggests they will be eaten by the dread awnshegh, the A Grue. The PCs take a day of rest, eating and sleeping as they have not done in months, then emerge into a small pocket of the city crammed to overflowing with refugees. They are harassed by refugees and beggars for money.

Damien: It’s time to fix these. I take two fifty silver handfuls of coins, and… (miming throwing the coins widely into the crowd on each side)
DM: …are you actually doing that?
Damien: Yes.
DM: Congratulations, you just started a riot which immediately escalates into a fistfight.
Damien: Awesome!
DM: You look around. You see innocent women and children being trampled by the combatants, who are decking each other with no regard to each other’s safety, scrambling on the ground for coins!
Damien: …there goes my alignment…
DM: What were you THINKING?
Damien: All right, I didn’t do that.
DM: Okay then. …what did you THINK would happen??

The group pushes their way to a deserted street full of only despondent soldiers who are being taunted and tormented by a frog-like demon. Damien immediately begins advancing on it, and combat erupts – or at least the usual flurry of mini-hunting and table-clearing. The DM mocks Niobhe for her habit of going to the bathroom only when combat has erupted.

DM: (brandishing a screwdriver) You better apply this to your characters, because now you’re screwed!
Alandris: …you’re better than that.

The DM laboriously draws out the map, detailing numerous side-allies, buildings, rubble-piles and so forth which prove to never have any relevance to the fight. Initiative is rolled. The DM quietly gloats over rolling 20.

Damien: My initiative is… 25. I rolled a 19, I have a +6 initiative.
Tergol: 22.
DM: Good lord. Here we go again, folks.

Damien and Tergol advance on the demon. The demon stands and gestures at them, casting unholy blight, I think, on the pair – wisely suspecting they’re not evil, but not lawful. Even the dwarf.

DM: You and your chaotic dwarves!
Tergol: I like chaos.

The pair take minimal damage from the attack after easily making the save. Damien uses Leaping Flame to teleport immediately next to the frog demon, but promptly fails a Fort save.

DM: You have teleported into the most nauseating stench you can possibly imagine. Standing next to this thing is like standing next to every bad spell you have ever experienced, condensed –
Damien: I knew I should’ve taken that thing, that like, Mask of Easy Breathing.
Tergol: I saw that, I was thinking, maybe I should take that…
DM: In one solid gut-punch of horror. You are nauseated.

Niobhe moves forward. Damien flees the stench radius, then uses Fan of Flames for trivial, mostly-ignored-by-resistance damage. The frog laughs at him again. Tergol advances forward. The demon casts blasphemy on the pair of them, dazing them for a round and reducing their strength scores dramatically. Niobhe casts dismissal.

DM: It’s Lorrithrik-level chicanery!
Damien: What about dat missile?
Niobhe: No!
Alandris: Why don’t you cast dat shizzle?

Niobhe beats the demon’s SR easily but the demon passes its Will save.

Niobhe: That just means I have to bring out the big gun.
DM: That’s your next spell. “The Big Gun.”
Alandris: Here’s my Sunday best!

Alandris casts ice storm, which deals no cold damage but enough bludgeoning damage to annoy the creature. The demon steps forward, forcing another saving throw from Damien. The DM complains a giant frog demon has no Jump skill. Damien saves successfully, and is only sickened. The demon claw-claw-bites Damien, hitting with all three blows, for 11 bite damage and 14 claw damage after DR. It also attempts to grapple him but fails, since Damien has a +10 from his stance. Niobhe steps forward, passes her save, and strikes it with a Sacred Longspear (+2d6 to evil outsiders) for oddly poor damage. The DM discovers Niobhe is also wearing an angelic helm and celestial armor, which prompts a raised eyebrow.

Niobhe: So I look badass. I have this silvery-white spear with a purple skull crystal on it…
Damien: And your figurine is a girl with brown cloth and a wooden staff.
Niobhe: Yeah, I know. Are you really wielding two battle axes?
Damien: Oh I sure am. These are only images, they’re actually my fists. I forged them into axes using my magic hands. See? Axes… swords… spears…
DM: Maces… flails… morning stars…
Damien: Nunchucks.
Niobhe: Mmmkaay.
DM: Dual sword… gnomish mining pick thing….

Alandris is up, and ponders his list of spells.

DM: Bow.. CROSSbow…
Damien: Summoned creature… bomb… and the ultimate weapon, shadow puppet.
DM: Sai… alternately the main-gauche… (gradually becoming more melodramatic with each weapon) long sword… short sword… broad sword… two-handed sword…Dwarven waraxe…

Alandris looks for the sound lance spell, can’t remember where it came from, then pitches an Orb of Sound at it. Niobhe realizes she has the spell penetration feat substantially later than it would have mattered, not that it DID matter. Damien leaves over to help him count d4s and nearly loses an arm as Alandris shrieks at him to stop.

DM: You hurl the Orb of Sound directly into it. You all hear a violent ringing as you see the entire creature shake, and it’s rocked back on its heels! Blood bursts out of its mouth in a crimson streak as it snaps its head around and lets out a gibbering roar! Damien, your action.
Damien: …is it dead?
DM: No!

Another debate on threatened squares and AOOs is resolved when Damien, instead of moving, just swaps stances and grows to Large size, then pummels the frog demon vigorously. The DM inadvertently swaps body parts, describing Damien slamming his face into the creatures fist, before correcting himself. Tergol advances in a bull rush maneuver that ignores AOOs. Niobhe attempts to poke the demon, but fails because it isn’t her turn. The demon casts Blasphemy again, dazing and weakening everyone nearby for 9 strength, dropping Damien and Tergol to 7 and 2 strength, respectively; it them moves up to stink at Alandris, who fails the save. Alandris retreats, everyone else is dazed, so the demon moves forward to savage the cleric for 22.

Niobhe: I rolled another natural 20.
DM: How are you DOING that?!

She hits for 14. Alandris goes next.

DM: What horrors will you unleash upon this unsuspecting, innocent demon?!
Niobhe: Innocent demon my ass.
DM: All he was doing was his job, and you guys had to show up and make his day hard.

Alandris ponders his options while the DM tosses an OOTS reference out. Alandris elects to Sudden Empower a Sonic Orb.

Alandris: Roughly 58.
DM: Yeah, you just liquefied it.
Alandris: Ewww, liquid toad!
DM: The massive orb of sound slams into it and reduces it, literally, to jelly. It collapses into what has basically become a homogenous substance held in a bag of skin. Its last expression was one of surprise.
Alandris: Riiibbeettttt…

Alandris complains that Sudden Empower is only once per day, but the DM argues that 58 unsaveable, unresistable damage isn’t bad.

Alandris: I like being a cheap rat bastard from the back. That’s why Cyclops is my favorite X-Man. “You guys, go do all the work. I’ll sit back here and look at them to death.:


The game ends here, as the night has drawn to an end. What horrors await our adventurers next time? (Answer: we forget, that one wasn't recorded.)