This Week in Campaign History

I don’t consider myself to be superstitious in general. When it comes to my dice, however, I am pretty particular. I play Chessex elemental dice. I bought the first set—golden earth—at Gen Con in 1999. The first three times I used them were in Rounds 1, 2 and 3 of the AD&D Open tournament that year. I won’t go into the gory details, but our team won the open that year. I consider it to be remarkable for two reasons: first, that we were a group of friends who grew up in different Minnesota towns (Duluth, Moorhead, Hutchinson, Avon and Blooming Prairie); and second, because it was the very last year for 2nd Edition AD&D. Because I grew up in Duluth, and then went out to Moorhead for college, and there met a bunch of gaming buddies who have become lifelong friends, and because I first started playing the game during the transition from 1st Edition to 2nd, it made me feel like there might be something special about those dice.

Since then I have become something of a dice snob. I only play those, and I don’t agree with other players who bring a hodgepodge of dice and play little attention to which ones they use. I’ll admit that I have a bias, but I think I would have it even without the history of my dice.

In an earlier blog post I talked about the adventure at Con of the North in which the nephilim barbarian, Arak, entered the gladiator arena outside of Tunis, then opened the combat with a critical miss. The crowd started booing him—aided by a PC who added to the cacophony—until he let loose with a series of swing that sent pieces of butchered hyenas flying into the crowd. Just this week in my home campaign we had a similar experience.

The heroes, having been recruited by a djinniyah to help rescue her lover from the City of Brass, had ventured across the elemental plane of fire to visit that location. (That was when they had encounters with a sphinx and a red dragon, as detailed in previous post.) Once inside the city, they discovered that the djinni was being held in a mine outside of town. The PC’s made their preparations, then popped in and attacked. Despite the fact that an efreeti, a fire giant, two ettins and some hell hounds were present, the PC’s made quick work of the opposition. They then fled to the nearby shore, where their ship was waiting to make a quick exit.

Feeling like things had been too easy until that point, I threw an elder fire elemental at them. That proved a lot tougher for them than I expected. The rogue couldn’t sneak attack it, the paladin couldn’t score critical hits and the wizard’s lightning bolts could only do half damage because the elemental always made its saving throws. That was why the rogue, in a moment of desperation, retrieved the efreeti’s greatsword and took a swing at the elemental. It had already been weakened by other tactics, but Reagan—because of non-proficiency and size penalties—needed to roll a twenty in order to hit it. Naturally, in the last round of the encounter, he did, and slew the beast. Once again, the dice played along to move the plot in a good direction.

Now the heroes are headed homeward aboard their galley, ready for the genies to plane shift them back to the Kingdoms of Legend. They have decided to aim for the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, knowing that the spell will miss its target by 5d100 miles. Here again I have to wonder: will the dice let them succeed without complications, or will they determine that a new adventure should occur?

We tried something a little different this week—and yet, something that wasn’t different at all.

At the end of the previous campaign session, the heroes had been recruited by a djinniyah to undertake an expedition to the fabled City of Brass. Her goal was to seek out a lover who’d been captured by the efreet, and she’d heard of the heroes’ exploits through NPCs. For that reason the PCs found themselves, along with the crew of their Mediterranean galley, sailing on some unusual seas. Because of the necessary outfitting, we didn’t have a lot of time for encounters. I ran them through an attack by an ogre mage and his ogre crew, one that the heroes handily defeated. Continuing onward, they ran into a sphinx. Because we were running out of time, I decided to cut things short and to issue a challenge—the players should come prepared with riddles for the next session.

This brought up a curious situation. How should I resolve the conflict? While we could have used Intelligence checks of similar game mechanics to do so, that just didn’t seem right. The chapter from The Hobbit, “Riddles in the Dark,” has always been a favorite of mine, so I figured we’d actually challenge each other. Given that I use riddles with my students in class when there is extra time, I figured it could be a fair contest.

It turns out that I was wrong.

We ended up playing best three-out-of-five, and I, playing the sphinx, lost. It was fun, however, especially since the sphinx had wagered a phylactery of positive channeling against the party’s decanter of endless water. Afterward, I should add, the sphinx flew away and found a red dragon to sic on the PCs. All in all it made for a great session, with a contest of riddles and combat against a dragon. This felt like classic fantasy.

Listed below are the riddles that came into play. Check out this thread in the IPG forum to share your answers!

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1. What is black inside red inside white inside green?

2. What thing is so delicate that, even by saying its name, you break it?

3. Feed me and I live; give me a drink and I die. What am I?

4. I’m thinking of two English words that have to do with fighting. Each has six letters, and the first three of one are the last three of the other. What are they?

5. Halo of water, tongue of wood ?Skin of stone, long I’ve stood. ?My fingers short reach to the sky ?Inside my heart men live and die.

6. Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it, five in the middle is seen; first of all figures, the first of all letters, take up their stations between. Join all together, and then you will bring before you the name of an eminent king.

7. I am a wonderful help to women,
The hope of something to come. I harm
No citizen except my slayer.
Rooted I stand on a high bed.
I am shaggy below. Sometimes the beautiful
Peasant’s daughter, an eager-armed,
Proud woman grabs my body,
Rushes my red skin, holds me hard,
Claims my head. The curly-haired
Woman who catches me fast will feel
Our meeting. Her eye will be wet.

8. A moth ate songs–wolfed words!
That seemed a weird dish–that a worm
Should swallow, dumb thief in the dark,
The songs of a man, his chants of glory,
Their place of strength. That thief-guest
Was no wiser for having swallowed words.
What Am I?

[We welcome back the our resident Kingdoms of Legend campaign GM, Nate Christen, for more heart warming tales in 'This Week in Campaign History!' -Brent]

It was supposed to be a single CR 7 encounter—a challenge for the party, of course, but nothing overwhelming. It was a succubus. She’d taken up residence in a Greek temple, and the heroes opted to walk right in and confront her.

Two things happened in quick succession that changed the situation for the worse. One was that the demon summoned another of her kind, a babau; the other was that she managed to dominate the rogue. (In that last part, I know I was picking on the character with the weakest Will save, but I figured that was a better idea than trying it on the more resilient paladin.)

Suddenly, instead of four heroes against one monster, it was three against two. To his credit, Al, who was playing the rogue, didn’t pull any punches. When he had the chance, he used his two-weapon fighting and sneak attack, while flanking opposite the babau. It was touch-and-go for a while, but I figured that the PC’s were still going to win the day.

Then there was a critical hit and, to paraphrase Howard Cosell, “Down goes Paladin! Down goes Paladin!”

In the aftermath, Mike coined the term TPTKO to describe the outcome. It wasn’t a TPK, by any means, since only one character had died. But another was still dominated, while the remaining two were beaten into unconsciousness. Now they’ve been taken prisoner, and it remains to be seen just what will happen to them. For the first time in a while, I ended a session wondering just what the heck was going to happen next.

At first I felt bad, like I as the GM had made a mistake because of the result. After further reflection, however, I started to think otherwise. After all, the PC’s never pull their punches when dealing with the villains. Even though this is a setback, it will only add to the drama in the campaign. For one thing, it gives us an excuse to visit Athens and the Parthenon, to seek help from the late paladin’s order. More importantly, it’s going to make revenge for the party that much sweeter, if and when they should have the chance. And this way, the players will always know that their rewards were well earned.

We reached a landmark in the campaign over the past couple of weeks, having been at play for six months now. I’m half of the way to using the catchphrase “One year ago in campaign history,” followed by a summary of the events from that session’s notes.
More importantly, the past couple of sessions have been a good reminder of an element that makes RPG’s so fun: I never know quite what’s going to happen.

This week the heroes followed up on their business on Crete, where they found a labyrinth being excavated by slaves. After dealing with the captors—regular and half-fiend minotaurs—they discovered a hidden workshop belonging to the inventor Daedalus. Therein they found a book of valuable secrets, but it was stolen away by an invisible quasit. That was when the paladin/gunslinger strapped on a pair of wings, flew to the temple that I’d intended to be the site of the big final battle, and blasted the demon into a bloody smear on the marble.
This was followed by a pitched battle with more minotaurs and a gorgon, after which the heroes took up shelter in the hidden chamber. The conjuror who was behind everything called up the rest of his minions and came to find them, unleashing a variety of summoned monsters during the ensuing combat. On his person, along with other magical items, the heroes found a communication scroll, and item that I’d figured they would use carefully to find out who was behind the plot. To my surprise, the heroes have now called out their enemies by revealing what they’ve done and I can spend the intervening week devising all kinds of comeuppance. Very little of this was part of my plan for the adventure, but it’s making for some fun sessions. It just has me a little bit worried for when, at higher levels, the heroes might start having dealings with genies.

[EDIT: I am pleased to introduce the regular host of the IPG Campaign blog, Nate Christen! --Brent]

I’ve been fortunate as a gamer.

I started playing in junior high and continued into high school, times in which there were always plenty of other players with whom to set up a campaign. As I headed off to college, then, I took it for granted that I’d find others. Given that my brother was going to the same school as I, we were determined to join the campus gaming club or start one if none existed.

What we found, however, exceeded our highest expectations. read more →

There was an existing group of gamers, including a mix of newer and experienced players. More importantly, there were numerous people willing to GM, allowing for bunches of campaigns. It was a cornucopia of gaming opportunities; I was able to run my own campaign while playing in one or two others.

After graduating, starting a career and moving to a new area, I was lucky enough to continue having such opportunities. While my schedule (and balancing new priorities) doesn’t allow for more than one session a week, I’ve had a steady chance to run and play in campaigns. That is what has led to a practice of mine, once a group has been playing together for long enough. At the one-year mark, I start sessions by reviewing my notes from twelve months earlier—always opening with the announcement “One year ago in campaign history.” Sometimes I cheat a little and start making these declarations at the six-month mark, because I enjoy making them.

That’s the origin of this blog’s title. In this case, however, I intend to update a little more regularly. My current campaign is set in the Kingdoms of Legend, with four regular players and one who pops in from time to time to aid with or add to the conflicts. I’m not going to name names, though. (Cough, Brent, cough.) This blog is going to be a place for reflecting on this campaign specifically, and the Kingdoms of Legend and Pathfinder RPG in general.


The Advantages of a Shared World Setting
I’ll be honest. During the brainstorming phase of developing the Kingdoms of Legend campaign setting, I wasn’t too excited about the notion of using the real world with an altered history. At the time, I would have preferred to see an entirely new setting. I was quickly proven wrong, however.

The main reason for this change of heart has become apparent to me while running my current campaign. It’s something that I’d learned before in other games, but hadn’t thought to apply to this one. For one thing, players who sit down at the table for a KoL game already know what to expect. The places and background are already somewhat familiar to them, although they can still be surprised by the changes. This makes the game approachable, but not predictable.

More importantly, from the perspective of the GM, is the fact that all of the world’s history and mythology is possible source material. Wikipedia therefore becomes an invaluable reference, as a starting point for generating ideas. It’s amazing how details seem to flow together; one core idea quickly expands into a complex scenario.

Take, for example, a recent series of adventures that started with the PC’s rescuing an oracle. They’d slain a basilisk and found its lair; the items there included a statue of a beautiful woman. I added that element with the intentions of developing it later. The PC’s had used the basilisk’s blood to restore one of their fellow adventurers, along with a horse, so they had to wait until they could return to town to learn her story. All of that bought me some time, between sessions, to further develop that plot.

I’d gone into the whole thing because of an interest in the mysterious women know as sibyls. Reading up on them revealed a few interesting details.

1. The sibyls were connected to the Greek-Egyptian Queen Lamia, said by some to be the mother of the monsters of that name.
2. This queen was blinded as a result of angering Hera because of an affair with her husband Zeus. This may also have involved Hera or Lamia murdering her children.
3. One of the sibyls was said to have lived at the Siwa Oasis in western Egypt.
4. According to the Pathfinder Bestiary, lamias were said to live under a horrible curse.

These details, all gleaned from reading a few articles online, laid out a plot involving a quest to break a curse, a hidden shrine in a desert oasis, and wicked monsters who could recruit other beasts to do their bidding. I don’t want to spoil everything for those who might have a chance to play through these adventures, but one thing became quite apparent.

This creativity was fueled by the fact that the world’s rich folklore could be considered canon. There PC’s dealt with that business, and are now sailing for the island of Crete to investigate business involving minotaurs, the inventor Daedalus, the bronze warrior-creature Talus and slave trading via North Africa. Here again, the adventures nearly write themselves, and that’s what has sold me on the virtues of “Earth as it wasn’t.”