The Gherkin Patch

Battling with my MSc dissertation leaves me little time for blogging right now.  Probably going to stay that way for the next couple of months, too.  But gaming still happens, for the moment.  Gherkin’s Greyhawk continues apace.  Sharing the DMing workload makes it easier - I’m running sessions on alternate weeks, interspersing the Monmurg War storyline with Return To The Temple of Elemental Evil which is run by my good buddy John a.k.a. guydebec.

If I don’t post again before Christmas, have a good one y’all.

I occasionally hear or read comments in which unrestricted multiclassing in 3.X D&D is held to be a bad thing.  People will confidently assert the ridiculousness of having, say, more than 3 classes - 3 seems to be the limit beyond which the multiclass-phobic become really twitchy.  What leads them to have such confidence in these assertions?  What’s so bad or wrong or ridiculous about having any given number of classes listed on a character sheet?  If you are playing a point-build game like GURPS, you can have an arbitrary amount of flexibility in how you structure your character, yet people who don’t bat an eyelid at the flexibility of GURPS have been known to get upset when they see someone popping multiple classes onto their D&D character sheet.  Can this behaviour be rationalised in terms of conscious reasoning, or is it purely instinctive based on their ideas of how D&D ’should’ be played?

As you may have guessed by now, I’m not at all multiclass-phobic.  Let’s consider various reasons that people might have for harbouring these feelings, and my response to these.  If you think I’ve missed out something important please feel free to point it out - I’m not trying to construct a strawman argument here.

Three classes was the limit back in the days of 1e AD&D - having more than this ‘feels wrong’

Clearly, this is nothing more than an appeal for a game that has a familiar, comfortable structure, based on what you are already used to.  What’s more, it’s a ‘gamist’ argument - in terms of flavour within the game world, the number of character classes a person has is surely nothing to do with it.  Game world flavour is about culture and setting, flora and fauna, and character classes are simply abstract tools used to codify a character’s abilities and the way they progressively improve.  So you’ll have a hard time persuading me that ‘feels wrong’ here has anything to do with the roleplay aspects of the game.  When you say ‘feels wrong’ here you surely mean it in the sense that making attack rolls with 3d6 instead of a d20 in D&D ‘feels wrong’.

This is not to say that these feelings are unimportant.  Humans don’t always do things for purely rational reasons.  But it is important I think to recognise and admit to our irrationalities in order that they do not master us.

The concept of everyone being described by a ‘character class’ is a bit artificial already; allowing people to have as many of them as they like makes this seem even worse

Hmmm.  Now this one contains an embedded self-contradiction.  Character classes are artificial because they artificially constrain someone to follow a particular progression of abilities.  So you think that allowing total multiclass flexibility somehow…makes this worse?

It makes it harder to pigeonhole a character and think of them in terms of an archetype if they require a multiplicity of classes to describe them.

Well, yes it does.  That is certainly true, and some people would consider that a virtue.  But others crave the simplicity of archetypes in their gaming.  This is very much a style choice.  Myself, I see that IRL a person may either stay in the same career their whole life (single-classing) or may spend stints doing this or that job and enjoy a chequered career (multi-classing) and so the capacity to multiclass assists my sense of immersion.  Yet I find that I still prefer some class-based structure rather than total freeform point-building of characters, because if you do quickly want to throw together a character that follows a certain archetype the progressions are ready-made for you.  So I do appreciate the simplicity argument and I recognise it has merit for some people.  But for me, restricting someone to an arbitrary maximum number of classes is too inflexible.  Yes, even if you give various options for customising classes.  I just don’t like the idea of constraining characters to a particular archetype or role throughout their career.

A ‘Ranger/Barbarian/Rogue/Savage Bard/Beastmaster’ doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue, and this makes it seem silly

Not a rational argument really.  Classes are abstract ways of describing bundled progressions of abilities on a character record; but they are not how the characters would describe themselves or think of themselves within the game world.  So our Ranger/Barbarian/Rogue/Savage Bard/Beastmaster would never introduce themselves as such, any more than you would start immediately rattling off a list of positions you have held and educational facilities you have attended when introduced to someone (which would, in a similar fashion, seem silly).  The class description gives us a convenient handle in the real world on what sort of abilities the character is likely to have, but it doesn’t matter a damn whether it is brief or lengthy, aside from an irrational knee-jerk reaction that some people have against lengthy descriptors.  This argument harks back to the earlier ‘feels wrong’ point I made.

It makes the game too complicated; working out NPCs takes forever…

Well just because you can do something doesn’t mean you have to do it.  But its nice to be able to on those occasions when you do want to.

It’s a munchkin’s charter - have you seen those excessive ‘builds’ on Wizards’ character optimisation forums?

Yes I have, and most of them hinge on a rules exploit or wording ambiguity that any halfway decent DM will plug in a trice.

Of more concern is the practise of hunting for ‘dip’ classes, whereby taking just one or maybe two levels in a class gives you all the most desirable benefits of the class.  Depending on what these benefits are, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there are some cases where it can be taken too far - where the benefit of taking just one level in a class are disproportionate.  For example, I have no objection to someone taking one level of Rogue so they can get 1d6 Sneak Attack.  Where I draw the line is someone taking one level of Assassin so they can get Death Attack.  For this reason I’ve houseruled some added restrictions on becoming an assassin, and reduced the effectiveness of the Death Attack so that there’s a level-dependant ceiling on the hit dice of target that’s susceptible.

These issues need to be dealt with on a case-by-case basis.  Again no real problem for any DM worth their salt.  (And a learning experience for the rest… )

Too much choice in class structures shifts the players’ focus away from roleplay and on to mechanics

Quite possibly, this argument carries more weight than any of the others.  Confronted with many possible choices within the rules, players can become so obsessed with ‘building’ the perfect character that they lose sight of the things that really matter, the things that keep the spirit of the game alive.  Spend too long poring over rules mechanics and you may find yourself starting to take a mechanical approach towards the game.

I liken the 3rd edition multiclassing rules to a strong horse that can only be tamed by a forceful rider.  You can all too easily find the rules and mechanics taking control of the game if you let them.  And it takes a while to learn the knack of making the rules work for you rather than the other way around.

So, there the case for the defense rests.  I have to say that most of the objections I encounter against prolific multiclassing tend to be based on fairly irrational premises, like ‘It’s silly’, or ‘It doesn’t feel right’.  Or else there’s the ‘If you’re going to be that flexible, why bother with a class-based system at all, why not play GURPS?’  which I have addressed above in my response to the ‘archetypes’ argument.

This post may have come across as a defence of 3rd edition, but really I’m defending the general concept of unrestricted multiclassing here, which has detractors even among people who play 3.X.

So, gentle reader, next time a player waves a character sheet under your nose for approval with half a dozen classes and a template or two, don’t dismiss it out of hand simply because it’s a ‘multiclassing nightmare’.  Every good character sheet should have a summarised list of the character’s abilities, and it’s this you should be looking at - i.e. the output - rather than the character’s class structure.  Does it all hang together well, in a believable fashion?  Are the characters abilities in-keeping with the campaign flavour?  Are there any munchkin exploits that need fixing?  If the answer to the first two question is yes, and the answer to the third question is no, then you have nothing to fear.

Our party is too big, asymmetrically levelled, and has an unbalanced mix of skills.  OK, so what else can we do that everyone says is crazy?  I know - let’s all split up and go in different directions! And why not go down into the dark cellar without a torch while we’re at it?

So - the adventure is ‘Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil’.  We have 12 player characters and 5 NPCs.  Levels range from 1st to 6th.  There’s one full-time cleric, one full-time mage, one full-time rogue.  The rest of us, apart from a couple of folks who can do a bit of part-time magic or trapfinding, are warrior types,  including several plate-armoured tanks (pass the can opener).  And yes, we did split the party.  And all the tanks went one way and the folks who think a g-string is too much armour went the other way.  Guess who ran into the ambush ?

I for one am enjoying it immensely.  Maybe it’s because I’m playing for a change.  Last time I sat on the outside of the DM’s screen I ran a sneaky, backstabbing lothario sea-elf called Sunaeco.  For the first time in a few years, though, I’m giving my ‘tank’ character an airing - Reynald.

Reynald is the kind of guy who just assumes he is party leader (which can rub some people up the wrong way, of course!).  Disgustingly handsome and dashing, people tend to assume (incorrectly) that he’s a Paladin, and are surprised when he occasionally demonstrates that actually, though generally on the side of good, he’s no angel.  Think one part Kenneth Brannagh, one part (young) Oliver Reed, and one part Heath Ledger (as in ‘Knight’s Tale’ not ‘The Dark Knight’).  He is rarely seen without his cravat which hides some scarring around his neck, an acid burn sustained fighting a tentacled abomination beneath the lost city of the Hutakaans.

He’s not actually the heaviest hitter in the party, despite being the highest level character and an obvious warrior type, as his talents are diversified into leadership and support skills.  OK, if you’re one of these people obsessed by knowing people’s ‘builds’, he’s a 2/2/2 Knight/Ranger/Marshal.  His Ranger class is the non-spellcasting ‘Champion of the Wild’ variant from Complete Champion - I wanted to keep him earthy and gritty and non-magical.  One area he does excel is mounted combat, and he’s lethal with a lance.  Shame he seems to spend so much of his time grubbing around in holes in the ground, really…

For some time now I’ve been bothered by an annoying rules inconsistency in the way ‘natural’ attacks in 3.5e are handled differently from ‘non-natural’ attacks. Specifically, I don’t like the way that you only get a single attack per round with a natural weapon irrespective of your BAB (unless you are a Monk), but suddenly when you pick a weapon up you are getting multiple attacks.

Here’s an example that illustrates the ridiculousness of this in a very clear way. Suppose I’m a weretiger fighting in hybrid form. The rules say I get one attack with each of my claws. Now suppose I pick up a set of ‘Tiger Claws’ (palm-grip weapons with claws that protrude between your fingers). Now, if my BAB is +6 or more I get an extra attack with one of those tiger claws.

It is true that if I want to use both tiger claws in this way, and I don’t have the two-weapon fighting feat, then I suffer penalties to hit - -4 and -8 respectively.   But if I do have the feat (thereby reducing the penalties to -2/-2), why can’t I use it with my natural claws to have 3 attacks when my BAB is +6 - i.e. 2 attacks at -2/-7 with my first claw and 1 attack at -2 with my second claw?  It seems worth doing, and why should I be able to do it with artificial claws but not my own?

And if I have ‘Improved two-weapon fighting’, then I should be able to get two extra attacks, one with each claw, so now my attacks look like this: Primary -2/-7, Offhand -2/-7 instead of just two unmodified attacks.

Well, we could say - OK then, let’s allow this, as an interpretation of the rules. It clears up the apparent inconsistency.  In passing, we should also say that a human can have two unmodified fist attacks as well (if it doesn’t say this in the rules already) or else, if you want to fight ‘weapon style’ to gain extra attacks then you use the same penalties as a creature with claws, as discussed above. (Unless you are a Monk, in which case stick with the rules for Monks).

But…it doesn’t end there. There are quite a few creatures in the Monster Manual(s) that would gain a disproportionate benefit from using this interpretation. The Purple Worm has a BAB of +16, so it should get 4 attacks with one of its natural weapons. It could use this to bite 4 times in a round. There are numerous other similar examples.

This creates a dilemma. It seems non-intuitive that a weretiger can’t use its BAB to have multiple claw attacks unless it picks up a set of metal claws and uses them in essentially the same way as it does it natural claws, but if you say ‘OK, then, it can’ then it leads to the logical necessity of allowing huge monsters like purple worms to have multiple bites in a round which seems unbalanced and non-intuitive (at least, to me it does).

My suggested solution is to allow creatures with BAB of +6 or more the option of waiving their right to additional attacks in exchange for some other sort of benefit. I’ll confess it’s tempting to say ‘a feat’ for every additional attack you waive so that my own combat-shy sorceress character can get an extra feat out of it . But after some mulling I think that this would be too wide-ranging a benefit and would lead to too much head-scratching over what bonus feats you are going to award your dinosaurs or whatever in exchange for their dropping their notional extra attacks.

So what I am looking for here is a single universal benefit, not to have a wide range of choices that can lead to an agony of indecision at the gaming table particularly if DM’ing monsters. It has to be easily applicable on the fly.

My idea at the moment is as follows - for every additional attack you waive the right to, you gain the benefit of a +2 dodge bonus to AC when fighting or casting defensively or taking the total defense action. So a purple worm will, if it elects to fight defensively, take a -4 penalty to hit and instead of gaining only +2 to AC it will gain a rather more impressive +8 to AC (as it waives the right to 3 extra attacks).

This isn’t something you can switch off and on. When your BAB reaches +6 you elect to drop your right to an extra attack and gain this benefit instead. As well as benefitting the big monsters this is also a good option for the purely wizardly types who would probably prefer some more defensive capability rather than extra attacks. Maybe ‘pure’ healers too.

It is suggested that monsters relying on natural attacks will have this option by default. It is an easy one to remember and apply, I think - if your monster goes defensive, check its BAB - if it’s +6, give it an extra +2 AC, if it’s +11 give it +4 and if it’s +16 or more it gets +6 (on top of the normal AC bonus for being defensive - +0 for defensive casting, +2 for defensive fighting, +4 for total defense).  I’d also say that it’s a genuinely worthwhile benefit to take as an alternative to having extra attacks, and one that will really make defensive fighting worthwhile.

(NB the bonus for casting defensively also applies to use of spell-like abilities defensively.)

OK, the context is a bit removed from the gaming world and the D&D edition wars, but I have been on the ‘Dilbert’ side of exchanges like this all too often.

Two recent dialogues I’ve been involved in were very much like this.  In the first, I was defending the old-style rust monster and those DMs who sometimes chose to use them, and (despite me not even mentioning 4e) it was interpreted as an attack on the entire 4e D&D system.  I found myself on the receiving end of a very, er, robust and vigorous defence of something I’d never set out to attack, from someone who seemed to take my comments very personally.  (Even more bizarrely, this person started waving bits of artwork of their 4e character’s loot at me, and proclaimed they couldn’t imagine anyone being inspired by previous editions to create depictions of their character’s stuff.  I was, frankly, incredulous).

The other one was a comment I made about my preference for a play style that didn’t assume the players would win every encounter - saying that if (note the use of the word *if* there, because it’s a very important word despite being only two letters long) ‘modern’ gaming was about the players never having to run away then I wanted nothing to do with it.  I was really talking about player attitudes here.  I was accused of ‘fuelling the edition wars’ with my ‘ignorant’ comment and that ‘modern’ gaming had no such requirements for the players always winning built in - a claim I had never made in the first place.  And I never said anything about any edition.

I don’t intend to embarass anyone by linking to these exchanges.  But like Dilbert, I really find this behaviour baffling.  People, if you really want the edition wars to stop - then don’t be the Sales Guy in that cartoon.

Two Weeks Later

The ritual to open the way to the Hanging Glacier may only be performed on a night of the new moon. Thus a fortnight’s wait is incurred.

Lendela and her people have now arrived, bolstering the ranks of the ice elves. The party have re-located their camp once more to one of the Rakeskia’s ice-cave hideouts, this time a fair distance from the western peak of Ymir’s Fang where the fortress lies. A close watch is kept on the shamaness Lyrina at all times.

Her closest bodyguard, in every sense, is Albrigon, with whom she is now entirely enamoured. The other ice elves are somewhat disquieted by her sudden surrender to the attentions of this human, although they recognise that he has played an important part in the rescue of their people. But she will hear none of their advice that no good will come of this union. He has even managed to persuade her that it will be necessary, for the good of her people, to gather the forbidden metallic shards, though the prospect fills her with dread.

Alpine birds have arrived carrying messages from the other tribes that they are sending delegates with armed escorts to the council of war that Lendela has requested.

The party have described to Lendela the region where Valaina’s stronghold is located. Some female scouts are sent to investigate (as they are immune to the enthralling power of the foxwoman). They return a week later, reporting that they found the caves described by the party but that they were empty, though with signs of recent habitation. No tracks could be found. Even Valaina’s menagerie of ice toads had been evacuated.

At last, New Luna has arrived. The party make the ascent of Ymir’s Fang once more, using Chillwind to ferry them to one of their earlier campsites closer to the fortress and then making their way upwards on foot, wanting to conserve their magical resources. A high-altitude cloud is depositing a light snowfall around them, the guttering, icy wind whipping the falling crystals into fantastic swirls and eddies which are revealed by the light of their lanterns. The moisture on their breath freezes and mingles with the snow as they climb the stair that winds up the ridge that lies to the east of the plateau. Albrigon and Lyrina go ahead on Chillwind, waiting for them at the top of the stair. The burly barbarian nods to the fur-clad gnome halberdiers that are waiting by the rope bridge to escort them across to the plateau, eyeing them warily. Lyrina who sits in front of him huddles back a little into the protective circle of his arms, tense with fear and anticipation. Chillwind scans the skies nervously for his skeletal cousin, but there is no visible sign of the undead dragon.

At last the rest of the party reach the top of the stair. They make their way across the bridge and into the ruined fortification…following their gnome escorts across the rubble-strewn, icy courtyard, towards the gatehouse that is carved into the rising mountainside that forms the north-west boundary of the fortress. The doors open to admit them.

Mia telepathically persuades Chillwind to accept another change of form into a serpent to ease his passage through this place. He consents to this, and she turns him into a constrictor snake, which she drapes around her shoulders and waist. From her smile she seems to positively delight in the sensation of him coiling about her petite form!

The interior of the gatehouse is lit by a small fireplace. The animal smell hits the party before they enter. Yetis. Several family groups’ worth have been given this place as a den. The mothers play with their children as the males wrestle or chew on pieces of deer carcass.

The rear exit of the gatehouse that leads into the mountainside beckons. Here the gnome who claims the name of Keraptis awaits with some guards. They lift the bar on the doors and open them. A chill draft wafts out of the yawning cave entrance beyond.

The party pass by some things that look like bits of broken statue. Thankfully they look like pieces of petrified animal, and not elf-child. There are some cattle-like stools that look very gritty and stony. It is evident that a gorgon was recently quartered here.

A portcullis is raised and the party continue further downwards into the heart of Ymir’s Fang, passing through a series of natural caves resplendent with many bizarre and convoluted rock formations. It is clear that Lyrina knows the way very well. She has travelled these subterranean halls hundreds of times before, when the ice-elves’ ownership of the Sacred Glacier was unchallenged by meddling wizards.

At last, the Cave of the Glacier is reached – a place where there are many stalagmites that rise from the floor, fed by dripping water from above. Strangely there are no corresponding stalactites above them. The stalagmites are broad at the base like great cones, with many rippling layers ascending to their upper heights. There is something about them that remind the viewer of a forest of fir trees. There is a well-worn path that winds through them, disappearing beyond sight after a hundred feet or so.

In the vestibule of the cave Lyrina readies herself to perform the sacred ritual, painting sigils onto her face and arms. So well-practised is she, that she needs no mirror to do this. She has to wipe one off and start again though when Albrigon playfully slaps her rump. “Hey, do you have to get naked for this ritual?”

She laughs. Strange, she thinks, I would not normally take amusement from such disrespect. But it’s just the way he says it…

“You should have more reverence, Albrigon. This is a holy place.”

She is prepared. She commences her ritual, raising her arms and invoking the spirits of the mountain. She begins to dance and chant. There is a tingling feeling in the air now, a mystical presence that can be felt by all.

A mist arises in the cavern, and the temperature falls even lower. After around twenty minutes of complex chants and movements, Lyrina sinks to the floor, kneeling to pay her respects to the mountain, pressing her forehead to the rock. She rises and turns to the party.

“The way is open.”

Ugrat growls at Keraptis. “Zhose children, zey bett’r be heer ven vee get bak…you make zem bett’r again, you understand?”

“Oh, just get on with it please. Spare me your bleeding-heart drivel. We made a bargain, I’ll keep my side if you keep yours. That’s all there is.”

The party advance into the mists, Lyrina walking ahead of them confidently, on a path familiar to her.

Soon the crunch of rocky gravel underfoot becomes the crunch of crisp snow. Someone brushing up against a stalagmite finds that it moves. It is a fir tree with white needles. As they progress yet further it becomes a little lighter overhead, not daylight for sure but brighter than two full moons.

The mists thin as they press on, finding themselves pushing through dense fir trees now. “Do not harm the trees.” Lyrina instructs. “The Spirit of the Glacier will be angered.”

The party emerge from the trees to see themselves surrounded by scenery that is fantastically beautiful, and yet somehow eerily familiar. The peaks of Ymir’s Fang still loom to the north, but they seem to be more angular and faceted as if they are some kind of huge crystalline formation rather than mere rock and stone. To the west lies the plateau, but in this place devoid of any fortification and heaped with untouched snow. The party see that they are in a glacial valley. The ice of the glacier here is amazingly clear and beautiful except where it is covered by fallen snows that have, rather improbably, formed patterns of astonishing intricacy. The sides of this valley are thick with fir trees that have white and silver needles, at an altitude that would be inhospitable to any normal vegetation on Oerth. Overhead the sky blazes with stars, countless more than are ever seen in the skies over the Flanaess. The stars seem to form a huge swirling spiral pattern that dominates the sky, with a great glowing centre. There is no moon visible. The only signs of animate life here are small flocks of things that look like birds at first; then closer inspection shows them to be more bat-like. But even this is incorrect, for they have no visible head or body, they seem to be simply disembodied pairs of flapping wings, that glitter and gleam as they flutter about in the starlight, racing each other in and out of the trees. The whole scene has a soft, dream-like quality of unreality.

“Welcome to the Sacred Glacier of Thelandira. Be careful to follow my instructions exactly – there are many spirits in this place. They sleep, now, but we must have a care not to awaken them. Do not do anything to harm the ice of the glacier. Cast no magicks upon it. The ice birds you see will not usually cause harm, but sometimes they gather in larger numbers to attack; if this happens, defend yourselves, and destroy them if you must, but do not harm them otherwise.”

The party proceed down the glaciated ravine until they reach a place where the glacial spur joins a larger glacial river several hundred feet wide. This river can be heard creaking and groaning as it slowly eases forwards in its bed. There are swathes of glittering silvery forest on either side of the broad, shallow valley that it occupies.

Ahead, it can be seen that the glacier’s advance carries it over a precipice. But far from falling, the ice breaks off in chunks….and then floats gently onwards. A glistening causeway of hanging icebergs can be seen trailing off into the far distance until it is lost in the surrounding mists that mark the visible extent of this strange place….

“The Hanging Glacier!” breathes Albrigon. “At Last!”

Previous Installments:

Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 1
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Snake
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 2
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Albrigon
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 3
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 4
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Ugra’at
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 5
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 6
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 7
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Sorrel
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 8
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 9
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Mia

“Wondering why some game reviewers are idiots. Newspapers don’t review movies based on a script. Why review a module without playing it?” – Goodman Games.

Well, lawks-a-lordy.  A employee of Goodman Games has let slip with an ill-considered ‘tweet’ on something called ‘Twitter’, and the flames are already spreading.

My take on this, is that Goodman games have produced a lot of good products (and maybe some less good ones too).  I don’t think some staffer shooting their mouth off in an unguarded moment is cause to sick the dogs of war on them.

Just saying.  Not that I’m condoning what whoever-it-was said, either.  Nor am I denying anyone’s right to be upset.  Just offering another perspective.

Erm, peace.

Miahuaxiuitl - She knows what you’re thinking

Miahuaxiuitl, or Mia to her friends, hails from the Amedio Jungle. Her Necklace of Warmth means that she is unfazed by the biting cold in these mountains. She has a pet lizard, also unfazed by the cold, that seems suspiciously intelligent and capable, and may not be what it seems. Indeed, Mia herself may not be what she seems…

Mia tends to be economical with her words.  She possesses a number of psionic talents, and wields an obsidian-tipped staff, though she tends to avoid combat if it can be helped. She has been known to indulge in the use of ‘recreational substances’ that she has brought with her from her jungle homeland, and encourages others to join her in these pursuits when the party are not in the thick of the action.  She sometimes evidences a somewhat macabre sense of humour.

Mia joined the Quest for the Hanging Glacier midway through after Snake departed for Keoland. Little is known about her, other than that she has been sent by Snake to bolster the party.

Previous Installments:

Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 1
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Snake
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 2
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Albrigon
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 3
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 4
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Ugra’at
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 5
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 6
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 7
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Sorrel
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 8
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 9

It is late at night, and Valaina slips out of the steamy warmth of Albrigon’s tent into the freezing night air. She looks all around her, ever alert to possible enemies or danger, as she paces through the camp soundlessly. Leaving the perimeter, she glances back over her shoulder to make sure she is not followed. She starts to run, lightly and effortlessly, barefoot on the snow and ice of Ymir’s Fang.

Mia is awake and watching, disguised against a rocky cliff face by the power of her Chameleon Ring. She instructs her lizard, Cuetz, to follow.

Cuetz is no ordinary reptile, possessing the power of invisibility. He fades from view and scurries away after the ice-elf woman with surprising speed.

Well out from the camp, Cuetz sees Valaina turn and look back once more. She bares her teeth in a smile, falling forwards onto her hands and knees, sprouting silvery fur all over her body, her nose and jaws elongating into a snout, her ears rising up and becoming more pointed and triangular…a long bushy tail sprouting from her rump….within moments, she is no longer an elf, but a large silver fox. She races off down the slope of the mountain with sure-footed ease.

Cuetz cannot stay in touch with Mia beyond this range, so she calls him back.

Morning arrives and Valaina has not returned to camp, though this is nothing unusual in itself, since she has always avoided staying with the party at night. Her new ice-elf thralls express concern for her safety. Menwen, the uncharmed one, suggests that they should be more concerned for their own with her around.

Having breakfasted, Sorrel, the shamaness Lyrina and the boy Kaylan depart for the mountain to the north in order to return to the Rakeskia base and make contact with Lendela and the others in the betrothing party who have probably returned by now. Before leaving, a rendezvous point is agreed on near a distinctive landmark, in case the party are forced to break camp. Sorrel invokes the power of the god of the seas to transform himself and his companions to mist, and then summons a wind to carry them northwards.

The four male ice elves leave camp to descend to the treeline and go hunting. In their absence there is some discussion about the business of Valaina – what to do about her? Mia reports what she observed during the night. Ugrat is convinced that she is evil and deserving of death. If she is still with the party when the other ice-elves are freed she will enthral them. Which, it is mooted, is really her only purpose in remaining with the party – to gain power for herself. It seems that without Snake’s influence to guide them a sea change has come about the party’s attitudes and people now want to “do the right thing”! Or at least Ugrat does, and as Snake’s perceived ‘right hand man’ his voice carries a lot of sway. Mia is more than likely excited at the prospect of looting Valaina’s body for whatever magical treasures she might possess. Albrigon can see the arguments for doing away with her as well – she did, after all, double-cross the party when they first met her, and he’s not happy about her going around charming people left right and centre either. Though he is sceptical as to how successful this attempt will be – “Witches and warlocks are always full of tricks!”

In the middle of this discussion Valaina returns to the camp. The atmosphere can, of course, be cut with a knife, and with more than four centuries of life behind her she is nobody’s fool. She starts to discuss the business of making contact with Keraptis in order to open negotiations, and offers herself to act as a go-between.

People skirt around the issue a little uncomfortably. Valaina notices a few people whispering. Ugrat keeps trying to position himself behind her. Glances are exchanged between people.

Mia telepaths to Chillwind to ready his icy breath…

“Is there something you are trying to hide from me? I sense there is a secret being whispered of here that I am not party to.”

Albrigon breathes a sigh of resignation. It seems that he will have to be the one to start this.

“Well, Valaina, it’s like this.” He rises to his feet and draws his sword. “We don’t need you anymore.”

“Now, Chillwind!” shouts Mia, telepathing at the same time. The dragon breathes a gout of icy mist at her, frosting her. She barely flinches at this. Albrigon rushes her, taking a great swing with his bastard sword. She leaps backwards to avoid his blade, displaying amazing reflexes, then springs back in as she ducks to avoid his return swing, at the same time twisting her body away from his spiked buckler as it stabs towards her midriff. Wherever his weapons are, she is not. She meets Albrigon’s gaze steadily with a look of betrayal in her eyes.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing personal – this is just business!” He swings at her again, and she deftly avoids with astonishing agility. Ugrat is moving to strike as well now. She snarls, baring rather pronounced canines, then shouts a word of power and the air crackles around her with mystical energy. Everyone flinches momentarily, not knowing what manner of sorcery she is about to unleash on them.

She vanishes.

“I knew this would happen!” Albrigon grunts.

“Ev’ryone, look fur her…she no gone far I tink…’member she take long time to cast spell to take us from cave to mountain other day.” Ugrat shouts. “I use my horn now, I find her.”

Ugrat concentrates trying to locate her but he can sense no invisible presences in the vicinity. He takes to the sky with Albrigon and Mia on Chillwind. They start sweeping the area looking for her, scanning for magical radiations or anything that moves.

But the trail has gone cold. The only creatures they find are the returning ice-elf hunting party, who have already made themselves flint knives and spears of remarkable workmanship and have brought down a couple of musk deer to feed the party.

The party tells the enthralled ice elves that Valaina had to leave for a while. They are upset by this, and propose that they should follow after her wherever she has gone, but they are persuaded to remain with the party ‘until she returns’. Only the unenthralled Menwen is told the true details of what has happened.

After eating, Ugrat proposes going to scout out Keraptis’ fortress to see what is occurring there. Chillwind and Albrigon fly Ugrat up as far as the cloud line and he makes his way onwards alone wearing white furs for camouflage.

He eventually succeeds in scaling a ridge that brings him level with the ruined fortress. There are no signs of life evident, except for a single gnome on watch atop the outer gatehouse. A white flag has been lofted. It seems the wizard is requesting a truce!

Ugrat scampers back down the mountainside and swiftly returns to camp with a mixture of climbing and feather falling. He reports what he has seen.

It is decided that Albrigon and Ugrat will go and parlay with the wizard. Meanwhile the camp will be relocated again to avoid possible reprisals from Valaina. The parlayers will meet with someone from the party at the rendezvous who will then guide them back to the camp’s new location.

He and Albrigon saddle up on Chillwind and rise into the air once more, this time flying all the way up to the wizard’s ancient fortress – hoping that this isn’t some kind of trap. They land on the adjacent ridge that bears the outer gatehouse and speak to its single gnomish occupant who is more than a little nervous.

The gnome says that the mighty Keraptis would like to offer a parlay. The party have something he wants, and he is not an unreasonable man. A shelter has been set up in the centre of the courtyard of the fortress and they may meet with him there.

Albrigon refuses to hold the meeting on ground that may have been prepared in some way by the enemy, and demands that Keraptis comes forth to parlay out here.

The gnome scurries over the rope bridge and heads towards the keep. Our heroes wait.

After some time a party emerges and makes its way towards the outer gatehouse. It consists of two Yeti, two gnomes who are giant-sized, and a single, gaunt-looking gnome at the centre. They approach the waiting Albrigon and Ugrat. Chillwind snorts irritably. Those yeti look tasty!

The gaunt-looking gnome in the centre raises his head and stares at the party’s two ambassadors.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”

“Let me guess….you’re Keraptis, huh?” Albrigon sneeringly replies.

A discussion ensues, with the one claiming to be Keraptis seeking to intimidate, whilst Albrigon puts on a show of bravado and Ugrat, strangely, tries to persuade the legendary evil despotic tyrant that he could go much farther if he tried being nice to people for a change.

During the course of the parlay, the question arises of why Keraptis has sent the party on this quest and then apparently come here in person with an army of gnomes to do it himself anyway! His appearance seems somewhat different as well.

Keraptis explains that there are a number of imposters within White Plume Mountain who claim to be Keraptis, but that he is the genuine article. He suggests that it is one of these imposters who sent the party here on their quest. He says that he has actually been impressed by the party’s capabilities and thinks they ought to consider working for him.

Eventually a deal is struck which is beneficial to the party. They will persuade the ice elf shamaness Lyrina to take them to the glacier and harvest the magical shards that he needs. In return, he will release the elven prisoners he has and restore the petrified children to flesh and blood. In addition, he will provide them with the means to access the magical vault that Snake is seeking to gain entry to – with no further tasks required!

As a show of good faith on both sides, the party will bring Lyrina and show that she is still alive and in agreement with this arrangement. He will then release the ice elf captives that he still has who are unpetrified. The ice elf children will be restored and released on the party’s return from the glacier, and when the shards are handed over he will give the party the means to access the vault.

By the time Ugrat and Albrigon reach the relocated camp it is close to nightfall. A hungry Chillwind consumes a whole musk deer before settling down to sleep. He misses his cave, but it’s good to have these little hairless yetis running around hunting for him!

The next day Sorrel and Lyrina return, drifting in to the rendezvous where Menwen awaits them. They follow him to the camp’s new location.

They bring news that Lendela is heading south with a small but capable party of Rakeskia warriors. She has sent forth messengers to the other ice-elf tribes to convene a council of war in the shadow of Ymir’s Fang; the remainder of her tribe, mostly non-combatants, are relocating to a different stronghold. The place where Keraptis slew so many of her people shall ever after be a tomb and shrine to those who fell.

Having been apprised of recent events involving Valaina, Lyrina invokes the power of the ice spirits to dispel the charm that Valaina worked on the ice elves that were rescued. After several attempts they are finally cleansed of the enchantment.

Albrigon explains to Lyrina the deal that has been struck with Keraptis – but he stops short of telling her that Keraptis demands the metallic shards that are taboo for her people to gather. The shamaness agrees to go up to the fortress and meet with Keraptis in order to secure the release of her people.

The second meeting with Keraptis takes place as planned, the following day – Sorrel stays close to Lyrina in order that he might be able to employ his wind walk to whisk her out of harms’ way should Keraptis try to double-cross the party. The wizard is satisfied and holds true to his word, releasing his remaining non-petrified prisoners – including the chieftain Naramir, who is in a bad way mentally and seems to have suffered some terrible ordeal. A couple of other prisoners including Naramir’s own daughter have also suffered various abuse at the hands of the wizard’s minions. Keraptis waves aside Ugrat’s complaint that the prisoners are not unharmed as mere pedantry.

The elves are re-united with their kin who were rescued by the party on their earlier sortie and despite their grim circumstances there is cause for some small celebration, and they are cheered by the news that Lendela is on her way. By now some more game has been felled and brought up to the camp and people eat heartily that evening, a pleasant change from the thin gruel the gnomes had fed them with goodness knows what unsavoury ingredients in it.

Albrigon seeks the company of Lyrina this night, trying to impress her with his smattering of elvish. He tells her tales of his own youthful years spent in the chilly mountains of his homeland. He offers her some wine from the lowlands to try. She senses his interest in her, but although she is grateful for him rescuing her, he is one of the short-lived humans and not good material as a mate. She has lived ten of his lifetimes already. And there is another, Kandor, a shaman in the neighbouring Oreskia tribe, who has been courting her these past five years.

However, after she takes the wine, she feels her heart warming to this tall, burly human who saved her from the wizard’s clutches. She never really liked Kandor much anyway. And so what if her tribespeople disapprove? Does she not have the right to choose her own mate? This Albrigon may be a little immature, but he is very seemly and his facial hair makes an interesting change from the beardless menfolk of her own kind. And his jokes are very funny!

Nearby, the crushed remnants of an empty crystal vial lie glittering unnoticed amidst the snows of Ymir’s Fang…

Previous Installments:

Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 1
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Snake
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 2
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Albrigon
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 3
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 4
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Ugra’at
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 5
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 6
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 7
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Character Sketch: Sorrel
Quest For The Hanging Glacier - Part 8

Barrow of the Forgotten King by Ed Stark was a most excellent finale to the quest to capture the Golden Boar.  (This post contains a slightly disturbing image, so be warned.)

Part One of this write up describes the encounter-rich wilderness trek that sets the scene for the action that follows.

Before I move on to the module, a little more backstory.  The party had found the Singing Tor and completed their original quest to reunite Peter Chamberlyn’s body with his lost soul.  But they had now undertaken a new quest - to find the circlet that controlled the Golden Boar, and thus avert the doom prophesied for the Keoish army if they proceeded into the Hold of the Sea Princes without the creature amidst their ranks.

The circlet (they hoped) lay in the tomb of King Theron, a dwarven monarch who had ruled in these hills many centuries past.  And their enigmatic guide, Berna, had told them that this tomb was located in a cave complex which was also home to an oracle called Murthwanesta.

Berna - a woman with a mysterious past

The cave complex had also housed a clan of Hill Giants, who had held the oracle in some reverence.  En route from the Singing Tor to the caves, however, the party encountered a trio of giants - a shaman and her two sons - whom Berna recognised as being from the caves, and who they managed to parlay with.  It emerged that there had been a change of leadership amongst the giants, and the new chieftan had less reverence for the oracle than his predecessor; indeed he declared that he would descend to her cave and take her as a wife, by force if necessary.  This attempt evidently failed, but then the new chieftan got up to fresh mischief by attempting to dig his way into the dwarf king’s tomb, which Murthwanesta had forbidden them to enter.  The shaman told the oracle who was furiously angry and told her to take her sons and leave; ‘a terrible disaster is about to befall those who would enter Theron’s tomb’.

From this, the party surmised that perhaps the Golden Boar was a creature somehow created or summoned by the oracle herself to punish the hill giants.

After a couple of days’ journey the party arrived at the cave entrance.  Following Berna as their guide, who had lived at these caves herself for a while as a disciple of the oracle, they descended into the lower levels.  Remains of slain hill giants were found on the way bearing injuries that might well have been inflicted by the tusks of the boar.

Murthwanesta the Oracle of the Earth was a large stalagmite in the centre of a pool of bubbling mud, which transformed as Berna approached and greeted her, the upper half of the rock formation becoming the upper torso of a woman of giantish proportions.

She confirmed that she had indeed unleashed the boar on the giants to punish them for their disrespect, though she had not summoned the creature.  It had been bound by her magic as a guardian at the entrance to Theron’s tomb, but the creature itself was linked to the circlet which was not of her making.  Since driving the giants out of the caves the beast had sauntered off and she was unable to recall it.  She gave the party her blessing to enter the tomb and retrieve the circlet and bring the boar to heel, and even borrow the circlet for a time provided they ultimately returned it.

And so on to the tomb, and the published adventure.  I’ll discuss this more from a DM’s perspective than a narrative one.  Barrow of the Forgotten King by Ed Stark is an adventure for a party of 4 x 2nd level characters.  The module as published is not a dwarf king’s tomb but that of a human one - I had to recast the descriptions of the place in dwarven terms, which I generally did on the fly with no great difficulty.

So how about the party being 6 x 6-7th level characters instead of 4 x 2nd?  Well, I dealt with this in three ways.  The first and most obvious way was to beef up some of the encounters by adding a few extra combatants - though I found that surprisingly few were required in light of the disparity.

Secondly, the module as published is written with the expectation that the party will take several expeditions to complete the adventure, with rest breaks in between.  However, the plot of the module involves some tomb robbers who are ahead of the party.  This was easily used as a device to ratchet up the tension - I turned these robbers into an expedition by agents of Monmurg to retrieve the circlet, and it wasn’t too long before the party learned of this from captives.  This lent a sense of urgency to their mission and forced them to slog it through in a single expedition.

Thirdly, the final encounter involved some more powerful adversaries than those in the published text - the ringleaders of the Monmurg expedition, on the trail of the circlet that controlled the boar.  Now I’ve mentioned that I was presenting this as a race against time.  It actually was a race against time in a very real fashion.  Although I wasn’t keeping a detailed track of time down to the last minute, I decided prior to the party’s entry into the dungeon that the following applied:

• If the party just stormed through without taking any rest periods, they would catch up with their opponents at a point somewhat before the final chambers of the tomb
• If they took one rest period, their opponents would arrive in the final chambers well ahead of them and retrieve the circlet, which could then be used to summon the boar - which would arrive only very shortly before the party’s arrival, thus giving the worn-down Monmurgians very little time to make best tactical use of the boar
• If they took more than one rest period, their adversaries would also have rested, and would ambush them with the boar from a position of strong tactical advantage - a potential TPK or TPC (Total Party Capture)

As it happened, the very first room in the dungeon was a puzzle room which had to be solved before they could proceed further (a slight re-arrangement from the published module in which this is the second room, but it better suited my purposes to have the puzzle as an opener).  The party asked Berna to perform a Divination to gain some clues about the puzzle, as it was a real head-scratcher for them.  They were still stuck even after this, and so it was suggested they bed down for the night and get some rest and do another Divination in the morning.  This cost them one rest period on my doomsday clock.

Beholder Puzzle

When they took the rest at this very early stage, I was a little worried.  At this point there was less of a sense of urgency because they hadn’t encountered the Monmurg expedition and didn’t know they were in competition to retrieve the circlet.  Though every additional day would cost the 25,000 strong Keoish army another day’s delay in its progress, but I don’t think this weighed as heavily on their minds as it should.  Because of this early rest, they could not afford to take any more rests before the deadly ambush occurred.  Fortunately, this was the only rest period they took - though they came perilously close to taking another on several occasions!

It might seem mean or unfair to have started the doomsday clock from a point before the party knew they were involved in a race.  But I had no idea they would take a rest in the middle of trying to solve that puzzle room at the dungeon entrance when I planned this.  When they did, I elected to be ’sandbox’ about it - I’d already decided the Monmurg expedition was in the dungeon ahead of them and I didn’t want to rewrite that fact for the players convenience.  Sometimes I do have events happen for narrative reasons - like the bit in Part One where the boar popped up and attacked the party when Voss’s hunting party were conveniently nearby.  But other times I just let the chips fall where they may.  That’s my style.

So what was the dungeon like?  A nice little dungeon crawl, basically.  Plenty of interesting encounter areas with terrain features and traps.  Naming no names, but some folks on the bloggers network have lately been rewriting history by saying that D&D editions prior to 4e typically involved dull encounters with single creatures or handfuls of identical creatures that didn’t interact with other creatures in neighbouring rooms.  Honestly, I have read people saying this!  This description of D&D doesn’t resemble any edition or adventure I have played in or DM’d since, oooh before some of my readers were born I suppose.

The dungeon is extremely linear, but this is actually well suited to the feel of the adventure particularly when presented as a race to try to catch up a competing party.  The player’s adversaries have left various minions and animated creatures to try to slow the party down, and there are a few evil creatures in the tombs that the bad guys managed to bypass without fighting - in the published adventure this is a bit poorly rationalised (rationale is usually where I find published modules fall down, but then we are a very rationale-conscious group), but I added a stronger rationale by giving the Monmurg party leader, Xera, an ability that specifically empowered her to co-opt evil creatures to her side (I won’t go into too much detail about this as she activated her escape plan at the end and they may run into her again).  By the way, in the module as published, the big baddie is called Xeron.  Xeron, Xera - you see what I did there?

We had some nice cinematic moments in which the player characters experienced some horrors.  Sylvian the elven archer getting stuck in a web and covered in a swarm of tarantula-sized baby tomb spiders was, um, pleasant.  And Jonathan Flynn succumbing to ‘Horrific Rot’ brought a cackle of evil mirth to my lips.

(Don’t worry, he’s cured now!)

The final combat was epic.  We finished it in one session, which was nice.  The party reached King Theron’s resting place, the final chamber in the dungeon, to confront a worn-down Monmurg party, backed into a corner, who scrambled to set up an ambush against the foes who were suddenly upon them.  Their ace was the boar that had only recently arrived in answer to the summons of the circlet.  There was a frantic battle to try to shoot down the wearer of the circlet who was directing the boar’s actions.  The boar was meanwhile chewing up one party member per round, tossing them aside like matchsticks and leaving them unconscious and bleeding out on the floor (luckily for them, no actual casualties, but a pretty tense fight!).  At one point people started saying ‘it’s time to pull out’ and morale starting taking a nose dive.  Then Dylan’s invisible raven familiar succeeded in snatching the circlet off the head of its wearer!  The familiar got batted out of the air with a morning star within seconds and there was a scramble to retrieve the circlet from the floor.  Then Berna remembered her ‘mage hand’ spell and snapped up the unconscious familiar still clutching the circlet in its claws.  She popped the circlet on her head and it was all over for the Monmurgians.  It’s great when a crafty familiar and a well-placed 0 level spell can turn the tide of a battle!

Treasure-wise, I always find myself cutting stuff out of published modules, and this was no exception, even though the module was designed for 2nd level characters.  I wouldn’t even call our campaign a low-magic one, but there’s just too much awesome loot at too low level in almost every module I’ve ever read.  I’ve always found it strangely ironic that in D&D from 3e onwards, there’s been less of a need for characters to possess magic items to make themselves distinctive, because there are so many ways in which characters can be customised and acquire interesting abilities without the need for them.  And yet, 3e onwards have taken stronger steps than previous editions in building a default expectation for magical loot into the structure of the game (including magic kit in CR calculations and so on).  Entitlement, much?

So, I cut out one or two items and changed a couple of others.  There’s one exciting ’signature’ magic item which I left in, because I’m not so stingy that I won’t let a surprise windfall drop once in a while.

As the party emerged triumphant, two of the hunting parties (Voss’s, and a group of Axewood elves) were spotted riding along a ridge in the distance and were flagged down by the party (cue police sirens in the background).

A celebration was had, the party divided their spoils and traded some unwanted items for more desirable alternatives with the elves.  Voss reported a successful disruption of the war council that Monmurg had been trying to arrange (which the elves had also turned up at). Thus all the boxes were ticked, the three story threads in the adventure now resolved.

And so, onwards.  Monmurg or bust!