Tywin: Wasn’t I supposed to agitate or something?

The group discusses whether they should be giving either the DM or the game “more time”.

DM: As you recall, after the horrific assassination, that didn’t work, of the priest Tywin Steele—
Tywin: It worked, it just didn’t stick.
DM: If you’re not dead, it wasn’t successful!
Tywin: You told me I died.
DM: As far as you know you should have,
Tywin: His religious fervor has convinced him that Cuiracaen has made him—
Lance: At least you didn’t have to go through what poor Highlander went through. He came back from the dead, they fucking ostracized him and banished him!
Tywin: They’d – instead of a crucifix they’d build me a big marble pedestal to carry over their heads.
DM: Despite your best efforts to keep this quiet, rumors of it have flown through your temple like wildfire, and everywhere you go on your way to the castle proper, you are regarded with mystery and awe. You hear whispering, reverential and impressed.
Tywin: I have something to tell you all.
DM: You stop in the middle of the hallway!
Tywin: The man in the suit was… me. I’m Iron Man. (guitar solo)

The transcriber accidentally spikes a bag or two on the microphone. The DM has rewound time a certain amount to the group leaving in the morning. Thanatos discovers that his court too is abuzz with rumors and whisperings!

DM: They don’t seem quite as favorable as Tywin is receiving, perhaps because you did not come back from the dead at the behest of your god. But indeed there seems to be much mutter and rumor circulating about your court that day.
Thanatos: I’m gonna roll a Listen check. Wait, can I even do that?
Tywin: You can command them all to speak aloud.
DM: You’re welcome to make the attempt.
Maevreen: Peas and carrots.
Thanatos: 14.
DM: From up on your phone, you’re not even certain that people are whispering. They’re speaking quietly enough that, from your distance and with your comparatively poor Listen check, they might very well be lip-synching.
Maevreen: Watermelon!

Thanatos questions the schedule here, leading to the DM to call him a ‘potential tyrant’. Everyone gets a good chuckle at that. The DM goes on to describe the courtiers as total kiss-ups.

Tywin: Is the court bard playing us a tune?
Lance: Sure, why not.
Tywin: A morning rise?
DM: <(doing that one herald with a trumpet)
Tywin: Don’t get him started!
DM: You spent 6 gold on court fees this domain turn, right? ‘Cuz if you spent less than that, that one dude is your entire performance right there. He doubles as bard, as herald…

Thanatos strongly considers building a palace just to save in the long-term. He handwaves his noble “go get ‘em!” speech.

Thantos: “Remember, the object of war is not to die for your country! It is, make the other person die for theirs!”
DM: Hjalmar, this is what you come in on.
Tywin: You can give your speech to the troops too. “Now listen! Many of you are going out there but even more of you are not coming back!”
Lance: I think I’m gonna go have my court with the neighbors.
Thanatos: “Is there any new news upon this day?” DM…
Tywin: DM failed his Listen check.
DM: Well if you think about it… Hjalmar, what was the family that controlled Diemed? The Diem family?
Tywin: We ousted the DMs?
DM: The elderly chancellor bows formally as he approaches and informs you that there is no news this morning. Tywin, you enter just as you hear there is no news in the kingdom!
Tywin: “No news is good news!”
DM: “I wasn’t assassinated!”
Thanatos: We already talked about that. As far as I remember we already found the dagger with D on it and were on our way to the smith.
DM: Yes, I’m fumbling with time. Tywin, as you enter the throne room to join your comrades, the mutterings increase. You can actually hear them up on the throne, a low susurrus of voices.
Maevreen: Watermelon watermelon peas and carrots.
Tywin: “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated… and the attempt on my life has left me…”

The DM glares at that speech, though Tywin vows not to keep delivering it.

Tywin: If I agitate you enough, the next assassin you send will know how to do it. Either or he’ll just create even more elaborate ways to have me killed, but not permanent.
DM: The assassins realize you have the Invlunerability trait and start getting creative.
Lance: They dip you into boiling acid.
DM: They dip you into boiling acid with your underwear over your head.
Tywin: “Who throws a shoe?”
Lance: And that’s how you die.
DM: Man, who knew that the +5 vorpal shoe would end up being the best weapon I ever made? Roll a natural 20, head goes right off.
Thanatos: So he enters, and there’s lots of muttering.
DM: The muttering increases.
Tywin: “Let us pray…” FUS RO DAH!
Thanatos: “Tywin!”
Tywin: “My liege. Baron.”
Thanatos: “How are you fit to travel?”
DM: “How the hell are you fit to travel?!”
Tywin: “I am as strong as an ox and twice as good-looking!”
Thanatos: “How fit are you to travel?”
Lance: You left the knife in your chest…
Tywin: Oh, there it is again – I’ll put it back,

A retainer of the lord approaches Hjalmar, bowing and offering him a message. The DM challenges him to roll Knowledge(nobility) to identify the seal on the message.

Hjalmar: Pfft. Natural 1.
DM: As you turn to look at the seal on the other side, you promptly rip it in half.
Hjalmar: “Oh crap.”
DM: You remembered to look at it after you opened it, judging by your little miming motions there.
Hjalmar: “Um… who was this from?”
DM: “A messenger brought it, sir. I didn’t look at it.”
Hjalmar: Damn. I’ll just read it then.
DM: In very fancy language, it informs you that it has come to ‘their’ attention that in a fit of curious magical disturbance, you have accidentally come into possession of some magical land which is not yours by right, and they’re eager to rectify this little problem and arrange for it to be transferred to the proper owners as soon as possible.
Hjalmar: I think it’s from Avan.
Thanatos: Does he keep this to himself?
DM: “Sincerely, blah blah blah blah blah, Harald Khorien.”
Thanatos: Harry Krishna.

Hjalmar rolls a much better check to identify the writer as the ruler of Taeghas, a known puppet of Avanil. Thanatos immediately bristles at the thought of someone taking his land. Hjalmar tucks the message away, noting that he’ll certainly forget about it out-of-character. Hint hint reminder, Hjalmar.

DM: Hurry up with those game reports, slave.
Hjalmar: Yeah, we almost forgot about Pattypunk.
DM: You all notice that Thanatos, bored of this court, has whipped out a map and is pondering conquest.
Thanatos: As far as I understand, he took the letter, read it, kept it to himself, rolled it up, and stuck it in his bag.
DM: That’s very true. I just like the fact that you decided to ponder a map. “Where shall I invade now?”
Thanatos: Hjalmar, what’s your character’s name?
Hjalmar: Falgrim.

Thanatos questions Hjalmar on the nature of that note, but Hjalmar speaks nothing specific of it until Thanatos presses him some.

Thanatos: “We should be off! These spiders are ravaging our lands, killing our people and raping our women!”

A pause.

Thanatos: “Laying eggs in the children.”
Tywin: They must be tentacle spiders. They’re spiders with long heads.

The logistics of troop movement are discussed. None are being moved, because Thanatos has a fairly ludicrous military.

Lance: He has more soldiers than people.
DM: Considering that his entire population is fanatical Cuiracaen worshippers, there’s really not much difference between the two, to be honest with you.
Tywin: Let’s just start invading, because that’s what people expect of us anyway.
Thanatos: We are off. We are leaving. I am taking my retinue: Half the whorehouse.
DM: Only half? Well, let’s see how many people you have there.
Thanatos: I leave the other ha—oh, I hope I have more than one. ‘Cuz if I have one, that’s not a good half.
Tywin: Roll Performance(bedroom). Don’t roll a 1.
DM: Roll Swim.

The DM briefly describes the bizarre, horrible rules combination that allows you to climb up someone’s ass so amazingly that everyone within 60 feet becomes undyingly loyal to you – the arseplomancer. The players elect not to take a formal escort, believing they’d be better off traveling small and quick.

Thanatos: I have a body double, by the way. I paid for a lieutenant before we started, so he’s my body double, so the masses can see I’m still around.
DM: They all knew you left! You gave a speech about how you were going north to kick ass!
Thanatos: He’s just there to fool my enemies.
DM: Your court just stares at him awkwardly. His fake beard slips off.
Thanatos: …so, moving on.
Hjalmar: We leave!

The DM begins cleaning off the table. Lance complains. The DM questions their transport methods, leading them to argue over whether or not anyone has horses.

Lance: Perfectly Legitimate Industries does own several stables. They’re perfectly legitimate horses.
Thanatos: They’re certainly not smuggled.

The group starts rhyming things off of ‘Ghoere’ again, then goes back to arguing horses. Lance realizes he has a mule, not a horse. Thanatos finally purchases horses with the realm’s resources. The DM reminds Tywin that his character is a Persist build.

Tywin: I should just persist my enlarge person. “Have you seen Tywin?” “Yes, he’s twelve feet tall! And he shoots lightning out his arse!”

The group sets off at a good clip to the northeast. About an hour or so later, they find themselves in the midst of a rainstorm. Their only consolation is that the rain is warm. Some of the characters grumble, others soldier on.

Tywin: “Cuiracaen! Give us the sun once more!” FUS RO DA—wait, that’s the wrong shout.
DM: Cuiracaen is the god of STORMS! You’ve insulted him!
Maevreen: No, this is good, it’s raining!
Tywin: “Cuiracaen, rain down on me!”
DM: Cuiracaen’s blessing your travels! With misery.
Maevreen: This is a sign!
Thanatos: Hey, does anyone have a religion check? See if this is, like, an evil rain…
Tywin: An evil rain. 18 on Knowledge(religion), this is good, right? Cuiracaen smiles upon our voyage with this spring rain! Yes, as a demonstration of idiotic religious zeal I throw my hood back and BASK in the blessing.

They continue north through the miserable day, but elect to stop at a nearby town rather than camp in the wilderness.

Tywin: You can throw those weasels over your shoulders, now. I’ll do anything I can to avoid fighting weasels.

Thanatos advises them all to maintain anonymity. The DM curiously asks if any of them thought to buy an extra outfit.

Maevreen: I have a scholar’s outfit.
Thanatos: Nnn-no…

Thanatos beseeches Lance to go in and buy a traveling cloak or two. Lance accedes to this, stepping into the town as the farmers are coming in from the field.

DM: This isn’t a commonly-traveled road, at least not from the direction you’re coming, so you’re looking on with a little surprise as you ride your fancy warhorse.
Lance: Fancy – it’s just a horse!
Thanatos: We all bought light horses.
DM: Oh, I thought you all bought light WARhorses. All right, I heard ‘war’ when I didn’t! Nevertheless, still the fact that you’re riding a horse in marks you of… probably better standing than anyone in this town.
Thanatos: He’s gonna get mugged.
Lance: They can TRY!
DM: The farmers respectfully step off the road and allow you to pass, not willing to provoke a confrontation. You might have them whipped. Or scourged. Or slain.
Tywin: …are we really that bad?! Is that the kind of show we run?
Thanatos: I didn’t think so!
Tywin: No, we’ll have them conscripted! That’s what we’ll do! Conscription, that’s the penalty for not respecting your betters. Conscription!
Lance: I go in as will, so I look pretty much like them.
DM: Riding a horse is a mark of status.
Thanatos: Get on the front line!
Tywin: I took an arrow in the knee!
Lance: It’s a messed-up-looking jack-off horse—
DM: You don’t have a messed-up-looking jack-off horse!
Lance: Yes! It’s supposed to look bummy, like I stole it!
Tywin: He’s riding good old Bill!
Lance: This is Will’s disguise horse! I can roll a Disguise check.
DM: Yes, roll a Disguise check for your horse, I like this.

With a Disguise roll, Lance makes his horse look nice and seedy.

Maevreen: He hobbled it.
Lance: I didn’t break its fucking leg! Looks, for me, when you say hobbling, I think fucking tying its legs to a goddamn post, and took out its legs.
Tywin: I break my horse’s legs every night to make sure it doesn’t run off.
Lance: You say hobble, it’s a permanent fucking solution.
Tywin: Then I just heal it the next day, and hobble it again!
Lance: His god’s like… (disgusted look)
Tywin: I use up all my heal spells on the horses every morning. That’s great for us.
DM: You get less attention that previously described.

Lance attempts to roll Gather Information, though the DM just tells him to grab some schmoe and ask where they get clothes. He does just that, and is directed to the windmill. The DM and the fellow players gleefully describe him being swept up by the windmill as he fails to watch where he’s going.

Thanatos: Eventually we decide to come into town to see what’s going on, and Lance is sitting there, “Ya’ll gonna get me –ing down or not?!”
DM: The end result is, your kingdom has to pay like five gold bars in restitution to this farmer for damages.
Lance: Five gold bars, what kind of windmill does he have?
DM: He has a pretty crappy windmill, but he also has ranks in Profession(lawyer).

Lance knocks on the door and is summarily invited in by the kindly inhabitants. Tywin demands he roll Sense Motive.

Lance: I’ve forgotten about my allies, and have decided to spend the night.
Thanatos: “I’ve got a full belly and a heedful of wine!”
DM: You’re bedded down with the horses for warmth. You forgot rations so you’re drinking the horses’ blood…
Tywin: I got rations!
Thanatos: Wait, we have rations!
Lance: I wake up in the morning, “Oh man! Was I supposed to do something? Naww.”
DM: You step outside, you see four angry dudes… The old man offers you a mug of small beer, and then goes to rummage through a clothing chest. “I’ve got a few things here, I keep them tucked away for… a rainy day! Ha ha!”
Lance: “Ha, ha, quite.”
Tywin: That was not only your trademark pun, but done in-character. Bravo.
Lance: About how much would these clothes be worth?
DM: Are you asking me, or the dude?
Lance: I’m asking him, “How much are these clothes worth to you, sir?”
DM: “Oh, normally I’d trade a cloak like this for a chicken or two.”
Lance: “Money doesn’t do too well here?”
DM: “We’re just a small simple farming town but, oh, a few copper coins wouldn’t be amiss. If you toss them my way I could pay a tinker to fix this old, rattley pot.” He bangs a pot by the stove, which clearly has a gaping hole in it.
Lance: “Here you go, sir. How about 15 copper for the lot?”
DM: “My word! Your generosity—“ (mimes the old man having a heart attack)
Thanatos: Lance pulls Skyrim style, he goes into a crouch and starts stealing.
Lance: “It’s no problem, for such hospitality in this worldly weather.”

The old man gives Lance a complete change of clothing along with his cloaks, and the group decides this is adequate. Lance thanks the old man and heads out. Tywin demands this old dude come back into the campaign later. With their new clothes, the group heads into the town once again, attempting to find lodging. Lance and the DM spar over whether the miller had a silo or a barn.

DM: You head into town, and your group is, thanks to your quick disguising, mostly unnoticed, save for when they spot the elf. And at that, as soon as they spy her—
Lance: Look. (pointing around the group) Dirty, dirty, dirty -- (coming to Maevreen) Clean!
Thanatos: We’re part of traveling band, ‘cuz it’s a bard…
DM: Immediately on spying her, you see them begin to retreat hastily, backing up, moving away, getting out of the road, and so forth,
Tywin: That’s right, Anuireans don’t like elves.
DM: Yeah, that whole mutual genocide thing they’ve got going on.

Naturally this becomes a debate over the methods people have to disguise elves and Vulcans, but the DM notes that the elf is openly carrying a sword, which is odd, and Tywin and Thanatos are also carrying arms and armor. Lance attempts to abandon the group to go back to the miller’s.

DM: As you advance towards the center of town, such as it is, a man of you would guess to be in his middle age, but still hale and hearty, steps forward into the road. “Hail travelers!”
Thanatos: “Hail good sir!”
Tywin: “Hail… hearty man.”
DM: “What brings you this way?”
Thanatos: “This rain.”
Lance: “We travel the roads—“
Tywin: Leave it to the bard to Bluff for us.
Lance: Prisoner transport.
DM: You know, I’m not trying to make this into a scene where you guys wipe out the innocent town, but I can’t stop you if that’s where you really want to go.
Tywin: Very well!
Lance: Why am I bluffing this guy anyway?!
DM: I don’t know!
Lance: “Greetings. We’re looking for a place to stay, maybe a barn or something.”
DM: “Oh, may I ask where you’re headed?”
Lance: “Up north.”
DM: “Oh, there’s trouble up north I hear. Looking to sell your swords, I take it.”

A shocked pause. Lance has no idea how to respond to this! The group breaks into laughter at his baffled expression.

Tywin: Be a mercenary.
Lance: “You could say that.” (glaring at the rest of the group) I have not heard it phrased that way! Sell. Your. Sword.
Tywin: You’re a sellsword!
Thanatos: Someone who’s a sellsword.
Maevreen: (as the DM collapses behind his screen) Congratulations, you’ve broken the DM.
Lance: It’s not that HARD, apparently! I’ve never heard it phrased, “sell. Your. Sword.”
DM: (helplessly whimpering)
Lance: I don’t know all your phrases, DM, I don’t laugh when you don’t know my phrases.
Thanatos: I only gigolo in part-time.
DM: Oh, you would’ve laughed if I had that expression on my face, you have to admit.
Lance: Yes.
DM: After an awkward pause, you agree to what he said—
Lance: That’s YOU! “Yes, you could say that.”

The man agrees to put them up in his own house, denying Lance’s efforts to pay him. Everyone praises the gods, especially Cuiracaen. Lance wisely notes that a battle WOULD have occurred if this town didn’t praise the god, though the DM points out in turn that literally every person in the realm follows Cuiracaen thanks to Tywin’s deathgrip on the temple holdings. The peasant home is fairly nice, with an amazing two rooms. The man speaks of having lost his wife in a war with Medeore years ago.

Tywin: Ghoere, you say?!
Thanatos: No, he said, Medeore.
Tywin: Yeah.
Lance: Ghoere’s going to be the happiest place in this campaign.
DM: With the Swordmage Brewery. Demon Brew, makes all who drink it happy!

Thanatos ponders a way to pay the man, but Maevreen simply offers to chop firewood. Tywin attempts to do some mining for the old man. Lance demands anti-elf racism! Thanatos realizes he doesn’t have Diplomacy trained to make a decent check.

Thanatos: Can I Intimidate him?
DM: “TAKE MY MONEY!”
Thanatos: I can Intimidate him. I can climb the side of his house.
DM: “I’m not coming down till you take my money!”
Lance: You could Jump.
DM: “Ha ha, look at what I can do. Take my money!”
Thanatos: Does he has animals on his farm? Cows, chickens?
DM: He has many chickens, everybody has chickens.
Thanatos: Well, I can Handle Animal, I can feed his chickens or something… well, it’s raining outside…

Thanatos gives up trying to push payment on the dude. Tywin whittles a crude lightning bolt holy symbol for the man.

Thanatos: Hey, way to keep up the disguise.
Tywin: (wailing) I tried my best!

More hobbling jokes ensue, though the horses (and Lance) are in the barn. On discovering this, the DM starts rolling dice behind the screen.

Thanatos: I guess Tywin and I are taking the bed, huh?
Lance: Heh… I’m not into sleeping with other men.
Tywin: Not in this campaign!
DM: Well you’re in the army now, boy!
Thanatos: You enjoy having a root in your ass, and I’ll enjoy having nothing in my ass!
Lance: Nothing, because I’m in a nice bedroll.
Thanatos: I’ll enjoy nothing in my ass, thank you.
Lance: Nothing, except for, the other guy’s stick.
Hjalmar: Wink, wink.
Lance: You don’t have to convince me, you don’t have to tell me, because I’m safe outside.
Thanatos: …Well, either way.
DM: Lance! Your night, all of you, is spent peacefully. But since you’re out in the barn, you wake up to hear a ferocious commotion in the chicken coop.
Lance: All right!
Tywin: A dire weasel has gotten – YOU STILL FOUND A WAY TO STUFF – YOU SHOEHORNED A FUCKING WEASEL—
DM: It’s not a dire weasel!
Tywin: It’s a regular weasel. It’s a dire fox.
Lance: It’s just a rooster crowing, I’m sure!
DM: No, because it sounds like something is in there, mauling the hell out of things.
Lance: All right, I go out and check.
Maevreen: BU-KAW! BU-KAW!
Tywin: Aw crap, it’s Chupacabra!
Lance: I run out and check,
DM: You hurry over to the chicken coop, and see in the building feathers flying out. Chickens are piling out of the chicken coop as fast as they can, scrambling for safety.
Lance: A fox!
Tywin: A dire fox.
Lance: A normal jack-off – I don’t think a dire fox could fit inside a chicken coop. You would see a destroyed chicken coop, if a dire fox came in. A crushed chicken coop.
Lance: I cast light inside the chicken coop.
Tywin: It’s a dire something, I guarantee it.
DM: Inside you see what it almost certain to be a WEASEL mauling a chicken!
Tywin: (dramatic reveal music)
Lance: I quickly attempt to grab the weasel.
Tywin: It is a weasel?
Lance: Yes.
Tywin: It’s probably the offspring OF a dire weasel.

Lance rolls Move Silently to successfully strike from surprise, and seizes the weasel! The obvious jokes ensue.

Tywin: Yeah, we slept in the same bed, but you’re about to have a weasel up your butt.
Lance: I’m pretty sure one of you two is getting spooned by now.
Tywin: But not by a weasel!

The weasel bites Lance for 1 point of damage and locks its jaws on his wrist. Lance attempts to strike it, but his rapier is too large. Lance reviews his inventory.

DM: You don’t have a weapon that’s small enough to attack the weasel successfully.
Hjalmar: Slam it up against the coop.
DM: Punch the fucker!

Lance grumbles about rolling only a 14 till the DM points out the weasel has a -12 to its grapple check. Everyone howls for him to choke, squeeze, maul, or strangle his weasel. Lance punches it for 2 points of damage.

DM: The weasel goes limp.
Lance: BREAKFAST!

Detaching the weasel’s unconscious form, Lance brains it on the coop. This wakes the rest of the group up, or at least accelerates the process.

Tywin: “What’s all that racket?”
Hjalmar: “Cuiracaen demands it!”
Tywin: “Cuiracaen DEMANDS to know what is the cause of this racket!”
Hjalmar: We could hide if you just stopped talking!
Tywin: I’m not going to turn into Benar.
Lance: I Move Silently up to the weasel that’s in their room… throw the weasel inside!
DM: As you both are struggling towards consciousness and hear that whack, a moment later a weasel flings itself through the window, into your lap!
Tywin: “Aaah! Kill it! Kill it! Get the weasel off me!”
Thanatos: It’s a dead weasel. So I pick it up and say…
Tywin: “Who throws a weasel?”
Lance: Is it a sign from Cuiracaen to have a dead weasel thrown at you?
Tywin: …22.
DM: …this is not a sign from Cuiracaen.
Tywin: “Ah, Cuiracaen does not employ the weasel, alas.”
Lance: It would have been hilarious if he’d rolled low.
Thanatos: “Anybody hungry?"
DM: A natural 1 would have been great.
Maevreen: Weasel fillet!
Tywin: “I am convinced that this weasel means…war with Ghoere.”
DM: The farmer thanks you most strenuously on your slaying of the weasel.
Tywin: Knowledge(religion) on the farmer’s thanking us. Only a 10.
DM: It may be a sign from Cuiracaen.
Tywin: I can admit this would be more fun if I removed ranks from Knowledge(religion). I’d be the worst priest ever. “That lightning bolt striking me is a sign of Cuiracaen’s favor!” I’m invulnerable so EVERYthing of that nature is probably a sign of his favor.
Lance: You see Cuiracaen like, “Damn it, why can’t I kill him!?”

The farmer cautions them of trouble on the northern bridge, rumors of someone accosting travelers. The PCs purchase some more terrible, terrible rations. Thanatos stubbornly leaves some copper behind for the man, after which the players plan to slay him to reclaim the money and loot his house, unscrupulous-video-game-protagonist style. They also accidentally give the DM tons of unscrupulous ideas about the elves turning on the players in the heat of battle.

Lance: I’ve prepared… the ‘special elf houses’ for you. And we have these special locomotives that they’ll be traveling on.
Hjalmar: Oh, oh, there’s the Hitler reference.
DM: YAHTZEE!
Thanatos: We’ve already had the dead baby joke by killing off his kid…
DM: Even though his kid is grown up.
Thanatos: Oh, well, that just makes it better.
DM: (Gesturing dramatically) You step out of your front door—
Hjalmar: DON’T – don’t do this. (repeating the DM’s gesture to demonstrate how closely it came to a heil!) Please.

The players step outside into a miserable storm that is worse than yesterday’s, wind and thunder and pouring rain.

Lance: Cuiracaen says it is a MIGHTY GOOD DAY!
Thanatos: A good day for them to die.
Tywin: “Cuiracaen smiled upon us yesterday; today he beams with pride! …although I wish he would stop admiring us so openly…”
Lance: Is this a sign of our adventures to come? Just non-stop storms?
DM: Hey, I’m rolling for it, even. It just got worse. (making wind noises)
Hjamlar: “Excuse me, sir, would you stop that – and stop following us!”
DM: (sadly) “I’ve got nowhere to go.”
Hjamlar: Didn’t this happen in our last Birthright game? I mean the first one? We went to travel somewhere and it just rained for five days straight.
Thanatos:: Yes, because the weather rolls are apparently different in Birthright than they are everywhere else.
DM: No they’re not, I’ve been using the DMG one! It’s not my fault they came up ninety-something.
Lance: (reading from the PHB) “Chanting to make a rogue move more quietly, for example, is self-defeating.”
DM: Also not so good: “Fool him, fool him! Bluff him, bluff him!”

Thanatos, whose blood power allows him to see through weather effects without difficulty, spies the bridge through the sheeting water pouring from the sky. He also spies several out-of-place boulders on the other side of the road, and immediately identify this as the ambush spot.

Thanatos: “I must let everybody know that on the other side of this bridge are some oddly-placed boulders.”
Lance: Is that how you say it?
Thanatos: “Looks like a good spot for an ambush.”
Lance: “He’s talking in the second person again!”
Thanatos: “Shut up, Lance. Why don’t you go beat your weasel again?”
Lance: “I’m okay.”
Tywin: “I christen thee Lance Weasel-Beater.”
Lance: “Why don’t you go sleep with your boy-toy again?”
Thanatos: “Which boy-toy are you talking about?”
Lance: “Seems like the lord has the church right in his bed!”

The groups begin planning for enemies that teleport 1000 feet away, cast vile chain lightning, or are vampire-monks.

Thanatos: I keep forgetting to bring a book for the DM.
Tywin: Is it a book full of evil pacifists? That must be killed?
DM: (muttering insanely in the background) Evil pacifists… son of a bitch…
Tywin: Kill the evil pacifists!

The DM has spent this entire time trying to find a sensible guide to outdoor visibility and encounter ranges, only to discover that doesn’t exist. This takes an alarmingly long period of time. The DM gives up and draws the battle.

Hjalmar: I’ve figured it out. The boulders are a bluff. The bandits are actually hiding under the bridge, but unfortunately, because of the storm, it worked in our favor.
DM: That’d be great.

The characters eye the drawing with an eye to tactics, wondering if they should engage at range or risk closing to melee. They elect to spring the trap. They approach closer.

Thanatos: I rolled a 25 on my Swim check.
DM: Are you actually swimming across?
Thanatos: I don’t knoooow. But I actually just rolled a natural 20, I want to know if I can… can I make it?
DM: Are you going to leap in and try? You won’t know until you try.
Thanatos: No. Screw it.
DM: The rain is coming very heavily from the west to the east. You are practically unable, such is the strength of the wind, to move to the west.

Lance moves to walk up across the river, as silently as possible, as the others prepare to offer support.

DM: A big, powerful-looking humanoid steps forth. Behind this rock, a smaller one… behind this rock, another smaller one… and behind this rock, one of them promptly falls on his ass as the wind picks him up and slams him into the ground, such is its strength.
Thanatos: So he’s unconscious.
DM: He’s not unconscious, he just fell over. Each of them has a bow trained upon you. The tall one shouts out something, give me a Listen check because it’s so goddamn windy.

They roll, and Lance gives himself a reroll from his Chronocharm for a much better 22.

DM: “HALT! AND PAY TOLL!”
Lance: “WHAT?!”
DM: “HALT AND PAY TOLL!”
Lance: “WHAT?!”

A pause.

Lance: I’m bluffing. I’m bluffing! With the storm he has no way to know I can hear him! I’m rolling my Bluff! Oh, my Bluff is crap… it’s still a 10.
DM: He clearly isn’t buying it. “DROP ALL MONEY! AND VALUABLES!”
Lance: I drop a small bag of 10 silver pieces. I look like a bum, though! The guy wouldn’t be able to tell how much I have! I have a dirty horse back there he may or may not be able to see because I stopped my horse WAY back. So I drop a small pouch of 10 silver pieces.
DM: “YOU MAY PASS!”
Lance: “Thank you!”
Hjalmar: “See you guys!”
Thanatos: How far along does he get before we start coming?
DM: You guys can move whenever. The two goblins there continue to keep their weapons trained on you.
Lance: I try to keep my eye on them to see when they turn to the other guys.
DM: The guy back there slowly struggles to his feet, you can put him back up…
Lance: Once they start looking at you I’m going to tumble and hide.
DM: That one continues to look at you, clearly expecting you to travel onwards, but he’s clinging to the rock. His bow is – he’s basically holding it one-handed as he clings to the rock and tries to find purchase against it.
Lance: He’s still watching me though?
DM: He’s still watching you.
Lance: The others?
DM: They’re keeping their eye on you just because those guys back there haven’t advanced forward.
Thanatos: I’d like to go last, because I plan to pick up the bag of money that he dropped.
Lance: I’d better remove my 10 silver pieces.

The goblin continues to watch Lance as he travels on, so with the storm’s aid he moves far enough to duck into the high grass.

Lance: I chose right. This is the short grass!
DM: That would be the terrain that has the Curse of Thief Revealing on it.
Lance: Very smooth grass top.
DM: As soon as you step on it, you light up in brilliant neon.
Thanatos: So the rest of us are crossing?
DM: As soon as you advance forward, the hobgoblin and his goblin cronies turn to aim their arrows at you. This one attempts to move around the boulder, falls, falls on his ass on the other side of the boulder. The other two, you note, are very definitely standing in the lee of the rocks, which is the only reason they haven’t been bulled over as well. The wind is clearly too strong for these larger creatures to stand on their feet.
Lance: So the wind’s blowing this way?
DM: Yes, and briefly you are all thankful that none of you are halflings, because it would suck for you.

Lance sneaks forward while the others are challenged by the hobgoblin. The DM challenges them to roll Listen checks. Thanatos and Tywin both roll a natural 1.

DM: “WE GIVE YOU GOLD!” he shouts.
Hjalmar: Ohhhhhhh.
Maevreen: 21.
DM: You hear the proper words. Hjalmar, you hear nothing.
Thanatos: She told us, right?
DM: I dunno! You guys clearly reacted when he shouted, so…

Maevreen clears this up for them. The game pause in brief horror as the group discovers it’s snowing outside. Then they shrug and return to the game as the PCs ponder their options. Thanatos attempts to declare a Leap Attack; Tywin attempts to use the Universal Greeting. They step forward, and the goblins fire.

Thanatos: But the wind is blowing pretty well.
DM: Indeed, and they have a -4 to their attack penalties. That’s a pity, I was kind of hoping to spring that one on you when they tried to fire, but good catch.
Thanatos: That’s why I took the lead, I have a better AC than everybody else.
DM: Or DO you?
Thanatos: I sure hope so.

Abruptly the DM elects to house-rule the incredibly shitty Toughness feat from +3 hp to +1 hp per level, since poor Hjalmar is stuck taking it for a prestige class. One of the goblins manage to nick Thanatos for 3 points of damage by sheer raw luck, and the hobgoblin grazes him for 1. Initiative is called for! The hobgoblin goes first, but misses.

DM: Hjalmar, you’re up next.
Tywin: Will you cut yourself?
DM: He can’t do that yet – well, he CAN, but there’s no benefit to it!

Hjalmar enlarges Thanatos. Thanatos moves up while Maevreen trash-talks their foes.

Maevreen: “We’ll feast your entrails and eat your brains from bowls made of your skulls!”

The DM notes that Thanatos will auto-kill on a hit by virtue of his increased strength and weapon size. With a roll of the dice, the first goblin drops. The goblins furiously fire at Thanatos, but the wind robs them both of their chance. Tywin attempts to return fire, with just as little luck. Lance charges a goblin, skewering it with his rapier.

Hjalmar: I’m gonna shout FUS-RO-DAH every time I cast Magic Missile.
DM: That barely hit you… for all of one points of damage. You feel a faint tingle in your ass as an arrow hits it, but so mightily-sized is your ass now that it’s merely lodged in the muscles.
Thanatos: “Aaaah, something jumped up and bit me!”
DM: Hjalmar!
Hjalmar: I move up, and we’re gonna magic missile the hobgoblin.
DM: Roll you d4+1.
Hjalmar: Yaaaaaaay! Woohoo, max damage!

Lance and Hjalmar plot to find the dragon words for Fireball, while Thanatos bull-rushes the hobgoblin! He rolls a natural one on his strength check, but the hoggoblin rolls a 3. This successfully knocks the hongoblin back. Thanatos, to his horror, realizes that bull rushing does NO DAMAGE.

Thanatos: How come nobody TOLD me this before I did it?!
Hjalmar: The description of the ability doesn’t say it does damage, man! Are you reading your abilities?
Thanatos: No! I write them down! I didn’t mean to move him away, I wanted to kill him!

An arrow misses Thanatos. Lance gets clobbered by a morningstar for 6 points of damage from the injured goblin. Tywin heals Lance. Lance strikes back, fails to confirm the crit, but still slaughters the goblin.

DM: Returning pain for pain, you strike him through the heart.
Tywin: You stole his power!
Lance: I don’t want his blood!
DM: Your rapier plunges through its chest to the hilt. Contemptuously, you plant your boot on his chest, withdraw it, and leave its body to bounce off the rock as it falls.
Lance: Nice.
DM: You have angered the roc! It awakens, spreading its mighty wings!
Thanatos: Do you wipe your blade off on its cloak?
DM: Look, it’s raining so hard, just hold it out for a moment.
Thanatos: Yeah, we’re going for effect here.
Hjalmar: Flare. Ric Flair!

The hobgoblin steps back out of threatened range, cursing, and the wind promptly knocks him down. Thanatos begins plotting his descent to evil for some reason, while Hjalmar wonders if he can get off a ranged touch attack despite penalties. With a quick move, he can!

DM: Acid catches him in the face!
Tywin: You turned him into Two-Face the goblin!
DM: Fortunately the acid is washing off from the rain before it can permanently scar him.

Thanatos eschews technique and whacks the hobgoblin, annihilating it. The final goblin fires at him desperately and misses.

DM: It turns to run, takes ten feet out, is out of the lee of the stone, and promptly falls on its ass as the wind grabs it. He begins crawling away in desperation, groveling to whatever goblin gods exist!
Tywin: “HALT! PAY TOLL!”
Maevreen: I say that in Goblin.
Thanatos: “Maevreen! …have your fun.”
Maevreen: Can I jump on these rocks or are they too big?
DM: It’s Tywin’s turn next, technically.
Tywin: IS it? Hee hee!
Maevreen: Damn it, I am not going to get to do jack shit in this fight. I talk shit.

Tywin moves forward to shoot at the goblin, but misses. Maevreen moves up, but is also unable to reach it.

Maevreen: Well, he’s gonna get away, I guess.
Hjalmar: He’s CRAWLING, I don’t think he’s going to get away.

Lance misses with an arrow, while Thanatos attempts to produce a golf club. Hjalmar chooses not to act, while Thanatos advances – and is also 5 feet short, like everyone else has been thus far, in a bizarre act of positioning. The goblin continues to crawl away, screaming piteously for mercy.

Maevreen: “He’s not listening to you!” I say that in Goblin.
DM: You torment the poor goblin.
Tywin: I can’t hear his cries over the pounding of Cuiracaen in my skull.
DM: Tywin, it’s your turn.
Tywin: RAAAAAGH! 16?
DM: A sixteen will hit.
Tywin: Nine points of damage.
DN: You crush its skull. Silence falls over the battlefield for a moment; then abruptly a massive bolt of lightning strikes from the heavens, smashing into that nearest boulder. A tingle of electricity runs through all of you, though it does you no harm. The boulder splits in two, steaming and glowing red-hot.
Lance: I will make a bat with that rock.
Tywin: Is that a sign that Cuiracaen is pleased with our conquest?
DM: Did you roll Knowledge(religion)?
Tywin: I rolled a 16.
DM: Cuiracaen is ANGRY! That kill had no honor, no glory, and no valor behind it. You beat down a helpless crying goblin as it wailed for mercy and tried to feebly limp on the battlefield.
Lance: He didn’t know it was crying for mercy!
Maevreen: I did.
DM: It was fairly obvious it was piteously moaning even if you couldn’t speak its language.

The players and the DM “spiritedly debate” the merits of this interpretation, with Tywin insisting the goblin would have leaped up and attacked him.

DM: You may see if there’s loot, which I will tell you about later.
Maevreen: You’ve set a bad precedent, Tywin!
Lance: I could use some help,
Tywin: The reason I killed it was because of the precedent set in other campaigns, where allowing the creature to live results in a fireball being cast at us.
Lance: I could use some healing here… not doing so well.
Thanatos: It goes with my alignment of chaotic good anyways.
Lance: I have one hit point left.
Thanatos: He’s evil, he’s attacked us…

The DM explains that Cuiracaen’s problem is not that the goblin was slain, but that it was done under the pretense of being in combat.

Tywin: So heartlessly killing him in cold blood… you know, by saying a few words, “I kill you in the name of Cuiracaen,” that would have made everything okay.
DM: A little more ceremony to it!
Tywin: My character is remorseful of what he’s done. Me as a person, what a fucking idiot god I serve. But yes, I see your point. This is why I don’t make clerics. Because all that dogmatic mumbo-jumbo, that’s something I would flush right down the toilet. But in the sake of keeping in charcter… “Guys! Drusila’s bored. I’m going to fling some cookies into the air and whip them, use them as target practice for my whip. Alerting all the defenders of this dungeon to come and attack us at once.
DM: “Shit!”
Tywin: Don’t let Drusila get bored! I will meditate and do whatever worshippers of Cuiracaen do as penance.
Hjalmar: Furiously beat yourself.
DM: With a morningstar.
Lance: Furiously rub one out.
DM: Furiously. It only counts if you’re furious while doing it.
Lance; “DIVINE WRAAAAAAAATH!” You’ll let me do a Divine Wrath now, won’t you!
Hjalmar: And give us an intense description.
Lance: Well, there’s a fap, then a bigger fap, then an ALL CAPS FAP.
DM: SUCH IS THE POWER. A MIGHTY CHASM IS RENT IN THE LANDSCAPE FROM THE FORCE WITH WHICH YOU SPILL THE SEED OF YOUR HOLY BALLS ON THE EARTH! A CHASM LIES BEFORE YOU, STEAMING WITH THE FURY WITH WHICH YOUR FLUIDS HAVE POUNDED IT OPEN!
Tywin: A disturbing tale! Old Faithful erupts!
DM: TREES SHATTERED INTO SPLINTERS! A MIGHTY STONE MOUNTAIN NOW HAS BUT TWO PEAKS, FOR ONE HAS BEEN SHATTERED!
Maevreen: And the female elf is like, “Oh, this is what human males do. Oh my.”
DM: “Our policy of artificial insemination seems much wiser now, apparently.”

Tywin merrily relates the story of a former player who used that sort of, uh, recourse at the first sign of frustration or bafflement. The players argue about body-burying duty, with Thanatos insisting that they do so. The DM reminds them that it’s raining like crazy.

Thanatos: They’re not getting anything ceremonious. They’re getting a mass grave. It’s one ditch, I’m dumping them all in there. Then I’m taking half of that broken boulder and chucking it on top.
Lance: You got a shovel?
Thanatos: I believe I might, actually… no, but I got a crowbar.
Tywin: They’re feast for crows now. The land will take care of them.
DM: You see crows angrily refusing to go near the goblins.
Lance: I blow my whistle, summon my horse.
DM: Your horse fails its Listen.
Lance: I run over and get it…

The party lampshades their complete failure to deal with corpses entirely in previous adventures, then ride on.

DM: The rain is unrelenting for the rest of the day. Cuiracaen… y’know, he’s cool with you guys apparently, he keeps blessing your presence.
Lance: Oh my GOD, you need to start pissing off your god! All of a sudden there’s a fucking monsoon, he is extra pleased! You murdered a couple of horrible criminals!
DM: Be glad I didn’t roll double-zeroes on the weather check.

The party continues onwards, but as night approaches finds themselves far from civilization. An oddly-placed ominous grove of trees offers shelter, and the party furiously refuses to camp in it. Moments later, they all decide to go investigate the grove, recognizing that it will surely come to get them one way or the other. Hindsight, however, indicates that the DM will entirely forget this plot next game… so the game ends here.