The Three Crowns

Kord, half-orc fighter/cleric of Kord the god of strength, was seeking a means of advancing beyond the limit of cleric level 4 set for half-orcs. His god sent him a dream-quest: find the Black Crown of the Getae and make yourself their priest-king, and I will reward you with greater power.

Seeking out the aid of Axxl the Mask, one of the local sages in the Greyhame Game (and paying him a fair amount of gold for the sage's work and time), Kord is told something of the lore of the Three Crowns ... The short of it is:

The White Crown is hid in the Mouth of the River ...
the Black Crown is held by the Old Man Under-Mountain ...
and the Red Crown was lost, but has been seen again, on the brow of Veiteric, chief among the Getae ...

------

When the Brondings came down out of the north to seize their kingdom from the Chaotic princes and barbarians who had squabbled since time immemorial, Brond was at their head, and on his brow there shone the White Crown of the Brondings.

Brond it was who fell in love with a naiad queen on the banks of the Coldwater River, and it was there, later, that he was ambushed by the Getae under the falls. Rather than surrender his sword, he broke it against a rock, and was slain there; but the naiads took the sword at their queen's behest, and reforged it in secret, and gave it to Brond's son, Gram, for vengeance. And so the Brokenbrand Falls had got their name.

Roland blowing his horn Olifant at the battle of Roncevaux after failing
to break his unbreakable sword Durendal; but it may as well be Brond,
having broken his sword ...

Then the Brondings warred against the Getae of the forest and their Elfin masters; and they drove back the Elves to the eastern reaches of the Dwimmerholt, and overmastered the tribes of the Getae.

Ever had the Getae been led by two kings, the War-King and Priest-King; now the Brondings renewed that custom, but they gave to the Getae two crowns, the Red Crown for the War-King, and the Black Crown for the Priest-King, and the two crowns of the Getae were bound by powerful oaths and ancient magic so that those who wore them were sworn forever to serve the wearer of the White Crown (the rightful king of the Brondings).

For a time, then, there was peace in the land; and several generations knew war only as they went to seek it in foreign realms, for gold or for glory. ... But Chaos has a way of worming into the hearts of men, and corrupting the Order they have built when they think their cherished kingdoms are secure ...

So it was that the last of the Brondings, Durand-King, fell for and wedded a serpent in the guise of a woman, and her influence poisoned the realm. The tribe of Galad, scions of a knight who had served loyally under Brond and who were led now by his great-great grandson Aldanus, denounced the queen as a serpent; but Durand refused to listen, and he named the sons of Galad wolves and traitors to be hunted down. Armies were raised; the tower of the Galad tribe was reduced and taken, and the tribe was hunted down and destroyed root and branch.

But of old, the Galad tribe had been the keepers of the Crowns of the Getae, situated as they were between the Bronding kingdom and the forest realms of the Getae; and so they had their revenge. The Black Crown they secreted deep in the caverns below the Glimmervaults, entrusted to an elusive earth-spirit known only as the Old Man Under-Mountain. And with the Red Crown, the last surviving nephew of Aldanus, one Aldaric, raised the tribes of the Getae in rebellion against Durand-King.

So a great battle was fought in the depths of the Dwimmerholt--Aldaric Galad, nephew of Aldanus, wore the Red Crown of War; but he was cut down in battle, and the Crown was lost in the confusion that ensued. ... And for a long time it was lost or thought destroyed; but there are rumors now that a certain chieftain of the Getae, Veiteric hight, wears a band of red gold upon his brow, and that his glance cows all who look on him, and that his word is law among the forest tribes ...

As for the White Crown, it was taken from Durand-King after his victory in the Dwimmerholt, taken by a council of his own knights. They had stood by their king when Aldanus Galad first denounced him, but after the extermination of that gallant tribe, they came around to see Durand-King as the tyrant and wolf that he was. So they ambushed him one day while he hunted, and took the White Crown from his brow, though they left him his life--to their demise in the end.

Still, the Crown they took to the naiads of the Brokenbrand Falls, to secret away as they would, until one worthy of the Bronding kingship should come again and claim it. Legends say that the naiads hid the White Crown in the Mouth of the River--though that makes little sense when the mouth of the Coldwater lies so many hundreds of leagues to the west, pouring into Ocean ...

So that is the tale of the Three Crowns, so far as it goes; it touches upon much of the history of the realms, but not all of the history is needed to understand their significance.

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon 12.5

During the same week that Kord ventured forth alone to the Howling Tower, Blackleaf sought out Lailith, high-level cleric of St. Ursula, and the two were seen rising from the grounds of the Shrine of St. Ursula on the back of a flying broomstick and set out toward the east where looms the silhouette of the Greyhame Mountain ... but even as they set out, the sky darkened ominously with the beginnings of a summer storm ...


28 November's Roster:
Blackleaf (Elf 3)
Lailith (cleric 8)


A number of people in town, especially fellow adventurers at the Black Dragon's Meed regaled by Mizer with the tale of his adventure with Blackleaf, have heard that Blackleaf was confused and somewhat distressed by the reactions of others to the news that she had beaten and robbed the philosopher turtle; and moreover, for several days, she was seen speaking at length with Lailith at the Shrine of St. Ursula, especially concerning the nature of goodness, and how an Elf might acquire a soul.

So it was generally presumed that this setting-out of Lailith and Blackleaf together had something to do with seeking restitution for the turtle.

As they flew off, people noted the ominously storm-yellow skies which gradually darkened until the afternoon seemed evening, and the evening was pregnant with darkness until ultimately lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and heavy summer rains were unleashed below. This seemed to bode ill for a pair riding the back of a broomstick, but nothing was seen of the twain straggling back to town--where they killed by a stray thunderbolt? Pressing on regardless?

The rains continued for the rest of the week--and four days after first setting out, Lailith, wild-haired and weather-beaten returned to Brakeridge, supporting a badly drained and injured Blackleaf on the back of her broomstick. The twain descended to the grounds of the Shrine of St. Ursula; a few of the devoted congregants who have been won over by Lailith's constant ministrations of healing and curing of diseases saw the pair enter into the shrine, and Lailith make room for Blackleaf to rest in Lailith's own humble cell.

Some few rumors were learned by these devoted at this time, which of course spread through town after being spread to the local watering holes (though nothing like the boisterous regalings of adventurers returning to town flush and ready to spend and drink and boast all night long).

The pair did indeed seek the turtle-philosopher in the pool of the Brokenbrand Falls, and they found him, and Lailith cured him of his last hurts. They learned that his name is Khelonius, and that he was brought to the falls by Caliburn, third of the five Bronding Kings, and bedizened in recompense for his excellent learning and playing of chess with Caliburn and his sons.

Moreover, they seem to have won a truce at least, and perhaps a chance at forgiveness for Blackleaf, if she can bedizen him with new jewels ("Not that I'm vain," Lailith quotes Khelonius, rolling her eyes slightly, "but they were gifts of some sentimental value ...")

No, Blackleaf was not slain by the turtle; rather, she and Lailith disturbed the crown of the skeleton throned above the pool, and a party of misty-ghostly knights rose up and challenged for possession of the crown. Blackleaf was slain by their cold misty swords, but fortunately, Lailith was able to raise her. Now Blackleaf requires one full week of rest before she can do any further adventuring, and so she will likely miss the next expedition to the Greyhame Mountain Dungeon.

That's all the devotees can gather before they're shooed away. Blackleaf needs her rest, Lailith admonishes them, and shuts the door behind her to let Blackleaf rest while she herself goes forth to lead the evening round of prayers in her shrine.

------

Remembrance for the Fallen
Hot Dog (mastiff), Cross (mastiff), Orion II (lion dog), Bacon (boar hound), Tore (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1), Jimmy the Snitch (dog), Orion (lion dog), Harambe (man-ape 1)

And for those Enchanted Away
Dol (fyrdman hireling)

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 11

Orcs have returned to the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
the Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie somewhere behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads ...

...

and Jaer the Windlord is said to look down on the world below from the Eyries of the Eagles on Greyhame Mountain itself ...


23 November's roster:
Mizer (magic-user 3)
with Thorngrim and Arngrim (two normal men), as well as a mastiff, a half-wolf, and a boarhound
Blackleaf (Elf 2)
with Johann Haybaler and Dol (two normal men), as well as Droopy and Snoopy (both mastiffs)


Blackleaf also bought a sprig of nightshade, said to be helpful against enchantments if worn; and she glanced at the nosegay of dragonrose, said to put reptilian beasties like dragons to sleep, but didn't ultimately purchase it.

Thus equipped and with a full party of hirelings and dogs, Mizer acquiesced to Blackleaf's burning desire to return to the Brokenbrand Falls to seek out the turtle philosopher there, and to denude him of his remaining eleven gems. To this end, they borrowed the maps from Little Bob (who has heretofore generally been the party mapper), and then set out for the falls.

On the first day, a storm blew up, destroying a spear, plate armor, twelve arrows, a week of rations, and a shield; it was raining all the rest of the way. Then, on the third night, just before arriving, the party was surrounded by ghouls--they did what I had hoped "concreteness" for the wilderness attrition would allow, and reacted by offering to use holy water, flasks of oil, and the web spell to help reduce attrition, all of which I allowed (and I rolled a random number for vials of holy water and flasks of oil), and they managed to maintain a defensive ring around their camp and to drive the ghouls away by morning.

Arriving at the falls, Blackleaf got out the maps from Little Bob and realized they made very little sense, given that they're spread over three pieces of parchment, and include distant areas drawn close together on the same map, duplicate areas that don't quite match up, etc. She had a general idea of where to go to return to the great pool, but couldn't see how the areas all matched up.

Nevertheless, they went in, and turning east in the first series of halls where the green slimes tend to grow along the ceilings, they indeed found a colony. Finding it before it could surprise them, they burned it away with oil and torches; and then, looking at the map, figured they could find a quicker route to the large chamber with the falls itself than the circuitous southwestern route taken by other expeditions. This proved true; but the way was also blocked by five large fungal growths in the chamber that led down to the long hall.

Mizer mentioned the possibility of shriekers as the party hurled oil flasks at the fungi; and yet none of the flasks hit, but either sailed over and past, or were just dropped at the feet of the adventurers. Plucking up some courage, Mizer crept into the room with his torch, hoping to burn one, and then sure enough, a horrible shrieking started coming from two of the fungi; meanwhile, the others began shuffling toward the party.

They sent the dogs in, while the humans stayed back and hurled missiles at the fungi; this tactic worked quite well, and soon all the fungal growths were destroyed, largely torn apart by wardog teeth. Only one of the dogs was seriously hit, and had wisps of fungal tendrils sprouting from where a fungus had struck him; Blackleaf carved the infected flesh away with a knife, injuring the dog, but successfully cutting out the infection.

Beyond the fungi, a set of stairs led down into a long north-south pillared hall that at its northern end turned east. Checking around that way, the party found the eastern hall led to a great pool, while the pillars became stalagmite/stalactite columns carved to look like trees and which bore jeweled fruits. There was also a cave leading down into the depths; but Blackleaf remembered that the party had come down from the north after the first encounter with the turtle; checking the water, they found a path of stepping stones in the water that led north, against the current, and along which the party thence followed.

Something struck at one of the dogs from the water's deeps--something silver and flashing and big--but it didn't get a firm bite, and the party went quickly enough against the current to avoid any further interactions with it.

Coming out onto a shore of stone, the party found a stair that led up and to the north; following this, around several windings, they ultimately came out into a sun-filled canyon with the stream flowing south on their right, and a stair leading up under the cliffs. On their left was a door which they ignored, and on their right, into the cliff over the streams, a grotto, which they likewise ignored. Following the stairs all the way, they came to a bridge that spanned over the stream and onto an arcing east/north shore of stone around a large pool of crystal clear water, open to the sun and surrounded by high rock walls. On the north shore stood an image of Astora, Elf-Queen, at the base of which lounged several naiads.

This was the pool where the turtle had been, but the turtle-philosopher was not currently present.

When the naiads saw the party, they swam over, making eyes at the men in the party (everyone except Blackleaf, really)--that is, until they saw that no one had a higher than average Charisma. Dol the former fyrdman exchanged a couple winks with the naiads, which somewhat encouraged them, but Blackleaf put a stop to that by glaring and reminding Dol that he was on her dole.

Dol, right before Blackleaf stamped on his foot and reminded him he works for her ...

Without any takers, the naiads rolled their eyes and flounced away downstream.

Looking for the turtle, Blackleaf stuck her head in the water--she saw something glittering at the bottom of the preternaturally clear pool, but no turtle. An attempt to swim down (taking armor off before) resulted in her just getting caught up in the current and swept south until she could grab the shore and haul herself out, dripping and cold.

Now, around the pool, into both the northern and eastern cliff walls, were several entrances into further dungeon areas; the party decided to investigate the one whence issued a stream that fed into the pool. Following that corridor, they came to a room with a basin of water within which stood a naiad statue, and which was filled with the debris of several huge spiders, egg sacs, and several desiccated corpses (Blackleaf here recalled the spiders that almost killed Lead several expeditions back). Heading north from there, the party entered a room with a pool fed by a fall from the northwest, an image of a Bronding king against the north, a stair up and through the west wall--and a sleeping turtle-philosopher with eleven gleaming gems in its shell, off to the northeast.

Blackleaf, overexcited, convinced Mizer to cast web on the sleeping creature, thus entrapping it in a net of sticky strands. The casting of the spell awoke the turtle, and as it opened its eyes and witnessed the party approaching, it began to speak. What's this? Do you all think I'm some kind of beast, inconsiderable of moral standing, or are you such cravens that you just go around casting spells on helpless individuals all the time, eh? Do you cretins even know what moral standing is, or how you would determine whether a thing is worthy of consideration? Well?

All of the hirelings and Mizer as well failed their saves against this tirade of philosophy and stood entranced as the turtle began to elucidate the nature of parsing moral standing (this, while the turtle also began to rock and struggle to break free of the webs--it looked like it would get out before too long ...). Blackleaf, however, succeeded in her save, and with her dogs (which, being beasts, gave not a whit to the turtle's philosophizing), she stepped forward and started attacking the webbed turtle.

I see that you, like all your pointy-eared kind, care nothing for the suffering of others! the turtle declared as Blackleaf's sword and the teeth of her dogs scrabbled and clanged on his shell. But he could do nothing other than rage impotently, trying to break free of the webs. After two short rounds of attacks, he was bleeding and beaten enough that he simply dropped his head. Take all my jewelry, he said. Just please don't kill me.

Then Blackleaf called off her dogs, pried the gems free from the turtle's shell, and then the turtle, with a surprising speed, fled into the water and went away downstream, bloodying the water.

Each of the eleven gems seemed to be worth about 1000 gold; and with their ill-won jewelry, the party elected to quickly return home. Back in the large chamber with the pool, they briefly spied the turtle's head above water, but then he vanished quickly again beneath the waves.

Also, on their way out, they glanced into a shallow cave in the northeast corner of the chamber, and saw within an old skeleton crouched in death on a great throne, with a crown of nine glittering diamonds upon its head. Blackleaf, ever greedy, reached out with her sword to lift the crown, and immediately she touched it, a mist rose up all around, misty figures within, and a ghostly voice questioned, Art thou so certain thou art worthy of mine crown?

Wanting none of this, Blackleaf returned the crown, and the mists dissipated; and then the party fled out of the dungeon, and back down the stairs by the waterfall at the entrance. Dol managed to fall in, and yet never resurfaced. Going into the water to look for him, Blackleaf glimpsed him swim away with a group of naiads, but lost sight of them in the churning water under the falls.

On the way back to town, while fording a river, the party lost 12 arrows, a dagger, a shield, a week of rations, and all of Mizer's torches; then, that night, in a bout of hypothermia, Mizer managed to further lose a shield, sword, another week of rations, and more ammunition (he put them down somewhere during a shivering bout, but when he woke up the next morning, not dead, could not recall what he'd done with them ... sure, that'll work).

Back in town, Blackleaf used her portion of the proceeds from the gems (some 5500 gp) to pay off her 5000 gp debt to the thieves' guild, leaving her barely in the black. She then went to Lailith, the lawful good cleric of St. Ursula in town, and talked over some of the stuff the turtle had said, which had stuck with her, and ultimately felt something of remorse. She now feels that she must do something in restitution for the turtle, if she truly is to gain a human soul and the empathy that it entails.

Meanwhile, Mizer caroused, and managed to win himself a reputation as the life of the party in Brakeridge--any further carousing in that town will cost double for normal the amount of xp, until or unless he does something to change that reputation.

------

Remembrance for the Fallen
Orion II (lion dog), Bacon (boar hound), Tore (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1), Jimmy the Snitch (dog), Orion (lion dog), Harambe (man-ape 1)

And for those Enchanted Away
Dol (fyrdman hireling)

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 9

Orcs have returned to the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
the Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie somewhere behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads ...

...

and Jaer the Windlord is said to look down on the world below from the Eyries of the Eagles on Greyhame Mountain itself ...

tonight's roster (actually played 14 November):

Aria (Elf 1, friend of Kaaraak the Eagle)

Lead (cleric 3, elected "captain" for the session)

Little Bob (traveling man 1)

with Marlowe (a cur) and Panzer (orc mastiff)

Blackleaf (Elf 1)

Aethulfwulf (paladin 1, formerly a fighter 1, but converted to Good this session)

Baby-Face (thief 3)

with Wheskers the Weasel (a snake-killing weasel)

Finbar (half-elf druid 1)

Unga Dunga (halfling 2)

Before the party was quite assembled, Baby-Face attempted to break Rendorsheeg (an Elf) out of jail, but he failed so badly that he managed to get himself imprisoned. The local thieves' guild bribed his way out (but not Rendorsheeg's), but that left Baby-Face 1000 gp in debt to the guild ...

When the party finally assembled, it was quite a number; they elected Lead the cleric as their "captain," and Lead announced that the party would journey to the Eyries of the Eagles, overruling all objections. The party appropriately bought rope and iron spikes/pitons for climbing, as well as extra rations, for the longer journey.

Then, following directions from Kaaraak the Eagle, Aria and Lead led the party north through the woods around to the west slope of Greyhame Mountain. I used actual wilderness checks for this, and ended up just rolling a couple non-monster encounters--first, Finbar was bitten by ticks after blundering through a nest of them (nice going, druid), ultimately to come down with some kind of disease; secondly, Little Bob was bitten by a viper, but managed to make his save against poison by sucking the venom out before it killed him.

The journey up Greyhame Mountain to the Eyries involves a hike up the mountain's slope, followed by an actual mountain-climb requiring rope, pitons, etc. The party sent Baby-Face ahead as the lead climber (given his thief ability to climb), and he set lead ropes  attached to pitons for everyone else, which allowed them to follow. Halfway up the mountain, on a ledge where the party could rest, Baby-Face pointed out a cave nearby to Lead; but Lead discouraged any exploration, and instead urged the party onward and upward. (Partway through this second leg of the climb, Kaaraak mentioned to Blackleaf that wyverns make their nests up here, having a truce with the eagles, but none with the two-legs down below)

Near the mountain's summit, the party finally reached "the Hame", a stretch of naked grey granite that resembles the hame laid across the shoulders of an ox's harness (I think? I hope I have this word right), which is laid around the mountain's shoulders. Here were a great number of eagle's nests, with eggs, chicks, and deer hauled up by the larger eagles for later meals. Kaaraak led the party through these nests to a cave under the summit, through which eldritch winds moaned.

There within, Jaer the Windlord appeared, a creature resembling a handsome man, fair-haired and blue-eyed, his cloak ever billowing in the winds, his tangled hair held down by a silver circlet. He demanded to know who came before him; Lead and his companions, who saved the eagle Kaaraak, was Lead's response.

A Master of Magic hero, and
o! the pixels are terrible here

Indeed, I have heard of the courage of those who have saved Kaaraak, my friend and servant, Jaer answered. And I have heard especially of the ministrations of Aria for my friend; therefore, I grant Aria the Elf a Guardian Wind, to protect her in times of need. This Guardian Wind is an elemental wind that once per day can be called on to create a protection from normal missiles effect, and once ever, can be used to create a fly effect, which ultimately discharges the elemental from further service.

Moreover, Jaer continued, I hope that I find in thee friends such who might destroy the evils of the orcs in the Glimmervaults below--those vile, deep creatures hate my friends, the eagles, and therefore I hate them. Bring me fifty orc heads, and I shall grant you all a Wish. I cannot destroy these creatures myself because things in the higher heavens are ever yet more important to an elemental of the upper airs as am I.

Aria also offered herself as an apprentice to Jaer, to learn wind magic from him; he agreed to teach her great magics of the air, but again, only for recompense of the destruction of the orcs below.

The party was thus incensed for the destruction of the orcs in the Glimmervaults; but they were uncertain whether they should climb back down the way they came (and maybe raid that wyvern-cave?), or whether they should hike down the back of the mountain. For indeed, on the far (eastern) slope of the mountain, they saw a path down to a defile that led ultimately to the back of the Brokenbrand Falls. Ultimately, Lead the Cleric decided that the party should hike down the back way, and from the Brokenbrand Falls into the Glimmervaults to attack the orcs there ...

So down the party marched (spending another day or so), and they got out their maps of the Brokenbrand Falls (two parties with partially separate maps, which they tried to overlap), and they asked where they emerged therein.

And instead, I described a new room, one with water flowing down from the northwest corner to the southeast corner, with an image of a rivergod behind the northwest corner's water, and an image of Brondr the old Bronding King with a broken sword in his lap on the north side of the stream. A corridor led south ... and none of this was on either map.

Heading south, the party entered a room with a long water-basin in the midst of which stood a statue of a naiad, with webs along the ceiling between the columns flanking the pool. As the party entered, they were surprised by three huge spiders, which dropped down and attacked Wheskers the Weasel, Lead, and Aethulwulf. Through a series of rounds, Lead took two hits, saving against poison both times, while Aethulwulf broke a series of shields to protect himself (one given by Blackleaf). But at last, the party slew the spiders, several dogs tearing the arachnids apart leg by leg, with Lead pulverizing the last spider with his warhammer.

The room also contained a large egg sac, and three cocooned victims; Aethulwulf tossed oil on the egg sac, and Little Bob lit it, and the webs burned away, destroying the young spiders in the sac; then the party cut apart the three cocoons and found three desiccated corpses, and a single Waterfall Sword, a kind of Viking sword with a waterfall mark on the ricasso.

The party then dithered for a long time, but ultimately headed east, whence gleamed open sunlight (considering the chamber opened to north, east, south, and west). Following the sunlight, the party found a wide space with a fairly large lake of clear, cold, mountain streamwater. In that sunlight, the party saw (beside an idol of Astora, Elf goddess of the stars and the night), a huge turtle with 12 gems in its shell holding court over a number of naiads, nakedly lounging on the banks thereby.

Except alive, of course, and perhaps a little
pretentious about its "deep" knowledge

Baby-Face was the first to approach this strange gathering, as he had before had good relations with naiads; these naiads did not recognize him, but they did fancy him, and started to wink at him and blow kisses to him. Meanwhile, the turtle turned and demanded, Who are you to interrupt my lecture of philosophy to these fine young ladies?

Now Aria and Blackleaf approached, Aria to engage the turtle in his philosophizing, Blackleaf to appraise the gems of his shell. The gems seemed to be worth about 1000 gp, and Blackleaf began to mumble about the riches represented (and murderous fantasies to take them all), while Aria became entangled in a nonsensical philosophical debate with the turtle (while also reprimanding Blackleaf for her obsessions with gold, rather than with natural wonders). Given the richness of the stones, Little Bob stepped up with the intent to remove the stones; but the turtle backed into the water, warily, and griped at the party. Why are you cornering me, interrupting my edification of these fine young ladies?

Little Bob and Blackleaf inquired about the gems--O, these were gifts to me from the Bronding kings, the turtle answered, a little garish, perhaps, but scintillating nonetheless--and the turtle further offered a single gem for an answer to a question. He asked for a solution to the epistemological problem of Edmund Gettier, of how to salvage the account of knowledge as "justified true belief" given "Turtle Gettier's" counter-arguments; the response from the players was weak in my estimation, but I rolled a 12 for "reactions" so I gave it to them--they offered something the turtle had not considered, that others might be relevant in any consideration of knowledge, ultimately not inappropriate for a turtle philosopher thinking to himself for some centuries alone ... and the turtle plucked off a gem and offered it to them.

(Meanwhile, Baby-Face continued his flirtations with the naiads. They told him they didn't care about the "lecture", they'd just come to make fun of and tease the turtle, and that they'd rather have Baby-Face come with them into the river. Baby-Face asked where the party was in relation to where he'd been, and found that following the stream southeast would lead back into the areas of the Brokenbrand Falls where he, Lead, and Unga Dunga had been before. But after relating this information to the party, Baby-Face agreed to just go with the naiads, and he disappeared with them under the waters, sharing a smooch for the sake of waterbreathing.)

Baby-Face joining the naiads while the
turtle-philosopher natters on beind

The party then followed Baby-Face's brief directions (while Blackleaf and Aria disputed over the turtle, Blackleaf wanting to take his gems, Aria, being of Natural alignment, wishing to protect the turtle). They ultimately found themselves in the Brokenbrand Falls where a map made sense, and agreed to seek some theoretical treasure nearby before heading back to town. The naiads had once directed Baby-Face and his companions to a nearby tomb for hidden treasures ... the party followed such directions into the tomb of Bragr.

In the tomb, they found a sarcophagus backed by a bas-relief of the World Tree with a serpent gnawing its roots to one side; approaching the tomb, Lead found nothing inside, but Blackleaf (as an Elf) pointed out that the serpent hid a secret door.

There within, behind the secret door, the party looked upon a tomb filled with grave goods--and also containing a colony of aggressive fungus! The party attacked the fungus with missile weapons, fire, and dogs, and because of the colony's slowness, the party tore it apart. Then the party looted the place and found much silver, electrum, and gold coinage; a tortoise-shell lyre and a bone-harp; 6 potions; and a wand; which seemed altogether to be worth a couple thousand gold pieces.

This treasure in hand, the party decided to head back to town; with their map, they made it quickly through the chambers of the Brokenbrand Falls, back to the slippery stairs that lead up to the halls, and all made their checks to avoid falling from the stairs. And at the base of the stair, they found Baby-Face waiting for them, dabbling his feet in the stream, satisfied smile wide on his face (he made his save to escape the naiads' charms ...).

Continuing back to town, the party dealt with a couple encounters of attrition in which they burned several weapons, ammunition, and shields--clearly ineffectual skirmishes against orcs in the night.

Lastly, arriving back in town, the party went on to carouse with their newfound wealth. At some point in the night of drinking, Little Bob wandered off into the village green and is said to have cursed and blasphemed the gods as vengeful assholes (and yet nevertheless he leveled up as a traveling-man through carousing!). As for Blackleaf, she is said to have strung local blacksmith Aldir along, hoping to marry him "for a soul" ... Baby-Face, meanwhile, bought rounds for everyone at the Black Dragon's Meed, and is now well known as the best drunkard in Brakeridge to have as one's drinking-buddy.

Finally, Aethulfwulf, spent a sum of money on a new small shrine to Adonai, Lawful Good god of justice, Pourer of the Horn; and then he also went carousing, but managed to end his night in his own bed, secure in his sense of having not made an ass of himself.

------

Remembrance for the Fallen
Orion II (lion dog), Bacon (boar hound), Tore (half-orc fighter 1/cleric 1), Jimmy the Snitch (dog), Orion (lion dog), Harambe (man-ape 1)

Turtle Philosophers

Morla, alas, came to the ultimate conclusion that
nihilism is the only true philosophy

(thanks to Arnold K. at Goblin Punch with his Tortoise Tsardoms for some inspiration here)

Turtles can live for quite a long time (or more particularly tortoises, I suppose, but whatever), and the longest lived can survive for many centuries, especially those in fey or magical environments. Those that live for such a time have a penchant for long, deep thinking, and ancient memories, and put together can become philosophers of the highest order.

No particular turtle species necessarily produces such philosophers--ancient snapping turtles in the swamps, thousand-year-old tortoises on a desert island, sea turtles grown so old and large that they resemble islands, perhaps even dragon turtles! can all become philosophers--but those grown from the lesser species of turtle have the following stats:

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Turtle Philosopher

HD 6
AC 2
THAC0 14 (for those who use it)
Attack 2-8
Morale 6 (they don't generally like violence)


Philosophize -- Turtle Philosophers obviously have a deep and abstruse understanding of the world and of philosophy, and to make their particular systems of thought even more esoteric, they often inherit or invent recondite terminologies for the various phenomena of philosophy (from long-remembered conversations with errant magic-users and Elves, perhaps). By making a great speech of these arcane understandings, a Turtle Philosopher may choose to confuse, put to sleep, or even charm characters (according to the rules for those spells, confuse, sleep, or charm person).

This ability may be used 3/day, OR without limit so long as the referee continues to spout semi-coherent philosophical arguments, explanations, or minutiae. Characters save against petrification (of thought--so a wisdom or will save for later systems), and must save at -2 if the referee manages to scrounge up something of an actual philosophical oration. But IF a player/character responds by actually engaging with the diatribe, perhaps nitpicking terms or drawing out implications, that character saves automatically, and grants a +2 on his or her comrades' saves.


Sagacity -- Furthermore, if some kind of a rapport can be developed with a Turtle Philosopher (what do they want?--new philosophies to ponder, answers to old philosophical problems, maybe something so mundane as the banishment of a nasty old troll from the local swamp-neighborhood), the Philosopher can act as a kind of sage for the player/characters. That means that for 1-6 questions per favor granted it, the Philosopher can deeply ponder and delve into memories, and produce a reasonable sagacious answer for each within 1-4 weeks. This includes identifying magic items, another thing sages do in my game.

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Alas for some of the swamps inhabited by such a creature, the turtle becomes a Turtle Philosopher-King, obsessed with its own vision of an ideal society, which it attempts to foist onto its fellow citizens of the swamp (or desert island, or what have you). The Philosopher might also have a strange obsession with universal ur-shapes, geometry, or mathematics.

You all know how it ends when Yertle envisions
himself as the philosopher-king of his swamp ...

Turtle Philosopher-Kings have the same stats as their merely philosophizing kin, but they invariably attract some kind of following:

1) a School of 2-12 would-be Turtle Philosophers who are all HD 3, cannot yet spout philosophy, and who follow their Philosopher-King's commands absolutely

2) a Republic, somewhat along the lines laid out by the Philosopher-King, with 1-6 would-be Turtle Philosophers (as above), 4-16 lizardmen or bullywug Guardians, 2-12 Craftsmen, possibly forest gnomes, and 5-30 slaves, likely goblins, gripplis, etc.

3) a Cult of 5-30 lizardmen or bullywugs who worship the Philosopher-King as a reptile god and who offer semi-regular tribute

4) a Circle of 20-200 myconids whose "King" has found a deep rapport and companionship with the Turtle Philosopher-King

5) a Dragon (or Dragon Turtle) who has taken the Philosopher-King on as a kind of "court philosopher" in its lair, and to entertain its own ancient memory

6) an Imp who literally plays "Devil's Advocate" for the Philosopher-King's arguments; their cantankerous rapport is like two old men who regularly argue for argument's sake

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Regardless as to whether it is a mere Philosopher or Philosopher-King, Turtle Philosophers sometimes attract semi-regular petitioners as a kind of oracle--or as a sage, approached by individuals seeking knowledge. Such petitioners might include:

1) peasants come seeking some kind of oracle from the Turtle-Philosopher

2) a magic-user (or an apprentice of some greater wizard-lord) come asking for advice concerning a spell, a magic-item's formula, or a magical component

3) an adventuring party seeking sagacious advice, about a dungeon or a monster, say

4) a troupe of Elves come to pay respects to an old friend, swapping old in-jokes, treading out old gossip, and sharing new rumors

5) a congress of the local animals--baboons, or finches, or a school of trout--come to ask advice about some dispute in their own affairs

6) a cleric looking for old dirt on a rival cult

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Lastly, for the Greyhame Dungeoneers, there is an old legend that the Bronding kings and their naiad friends invited a Turtle-Philosopher to the waters above the Brokenbrand Falls to dwell there as a kind of court philosopher. The legends tell of a gem-and-gold-encrusted shell bequeathed by gracious sovereigns, and quibble about whether Brondr himself or one of his successors brought the dubiously named philosopher "Chelonius" to the falls.

Legends differ as to whether this particular Turtle-Philosopher preferred playing chess against the kings, or expounding on epistemology.

Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 6

Orcs have returned to the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
the Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie somewhere behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads ...

...

and Kaaraak the Eagle speaks to the Elves in the party of the Eyries of the Eagles ...

tonight's roster (actually played 29 October):
Rendorsheeg (Elf 2)
Finbar (half-Elf druid 1)
with Cornelius (a dog)
Harambe (man-ape 1)
with Orion and Bacon (both dogs)
Little Bob (traveling-man 1)
with Marlo (a cur of a dog)


Rendorsheeg, having learned from Kaaraak the eagle of a route bipeds could take to get to the Eyries of the Eagles, was very eager to attempt to get there, but was talked out of it by Harambe and Little Bob, who wanted to return (for Harambe at least) to the Howling Tower. The party ultimately compromised on the Brokenbrand Falls.

On the way out, I tested my wilderness as attrition rules, and I think they need fiddling, but it wasn't terrible. I rolled one encounter, and it came up the worst that could be, i.e. 6 dice of damage for the party unless they broke a bunch of stuff. So they broke a lot of equipment--Little Bob lost his scale armor (must have worn it through poison ivy, and then ditched it); Rendorsheeg expended 12 arrows and broke his bow in some kind of fight against baddies; he also lost his prized wheel of cheese, taken from the goblin larder in the Howling Tower; and lastly Finbar broke his shield and took 6 damage (out of 7 hp!) from getting mauled by a wild animal.

Which is to say, one roll caused a lot of attrition for this party.

Anyway, at the entrance, the party looked upon the stair that leads up the cliff face south of the waterfall; they successfully climbed it without falling into the pool, and entering the dungeon found a statue of Brondr, old King of the Brondings, with his brandished sword. There was a little bit of green slime residue around the statue, and the party belatedly looked up, but saw nothing waiting to drop on them.

To the east lies a kind of audience chamber with large windows and tapestries; there used to be three tapestries depicting heroic deeds, but one of them was hauled away by a previous expedition, leaving two tapestries and a slightly discolored square on the wall.

Coming back west through some pillared halls, the party's lead dog, Cornelius, was surprised to suddenly find a green slime on its back, precipitated from the ceiling. The party proceeded to beat the crap out of the dog with a club, sword, and dagger, doing nothing to the slime, but injuring the poor hound. Then Harambe remembered that fire was the answer, and by a lucky roll, he managed to pour oil only on the slime, and to burn only the slime, killing it and saving the dog, now slightly singed and with a big furless chemical-burn patch on his back.

Heading south, the party found an armory, already slightly looted by a previous expedition; and in the next room, saw what seemed to be a pool of water in the corner--except, when they stuck a spear into it, the spearhead began to dissolve, and the puddle moved slimily toward them. They poured more oil on this one and lit it up, but to no avail, and I rolled a critical hit on the second dog--pour Bacon got his face engulfed and began to quickly dissolve, kind of like that scene in John Carpenter's The Thing (1982) when the dog's face falls off, except even more horribly, the slime is dripping with still-burning oil!

The party decided to just beat the crap out of the slime at that point, and though their weapons quickly put the dog out of its misery, they also quickly destroyed the slime and it kind of discorporated into puddles of slimey bits intermixed with dog blood on the floor.

This room was clearly a sort of antechamber, with bas-relief carvings of the god Sabazios the Dragon-Killer, and of heroic Brondings; and indeed through the door to the south, the party discovered a shrine dedicated to Sabazios, with a lead sword lying on the altar before the idol. The sword is just a blade with a naked tang, no hilts, and on its ricasso are etched two runes, ᚨᚦ;
trying to lift it, the party found it magically heavy so that no amount of strength could remove it from the altar. They left this puzzle for others to attempt and continued deeper.

ΣΑΒΑΖΙΟΣ

First, to the east, they discovered a sort of balcony carved out of the cliff face, and there, a small eyrie of eagles. Finbar cast speak with animals, and learned that these eagles are also friends of Jaer the Windlord, and of Kaaraak; their names were Kriar (male) and Kriak (female), and at Rendorsheeg's request, Kriar agreed to travel with the party for a time (he has a bold heart, and though eagles do not like the dark enclosed spaces inside, he thought he might see what could be seen).

The last few rooms they explored included a scummy well with another colony of green slime, and a set of four small cells meant for the habitation of the former priests, including loot of a holy symbol, but also one of the cells contained an ancient corpse that was completely molded over with yellow growths. For a final time, the party resorted to fire, tossing in oil and a torch and quickly shutting the door on the resulting expulsion of a cloud of spores.

Finally, there was a locked door, just around the corner from the shrine. Harambe decided to bust it open with his ability as a man-ape to perform feats of strength, and though he yanked the door from its hinges, he also set off the rune inscribed invisibly onto the door, which flashed with a terrible, eldritch light, and then Harambe fell back dead, flash-burned all down his front.

Alas, poor Harambe! He was the first character to expire beneath the Greyhame Mountain; but I doubt he will be the last ...

Inside the room, the party discovered three chests, heavy with loot. With a comrade fallen, treasure in-hand, and our time running out, they beat a hasty retreat, dropping Kriar back off at his balcon-eyrie, and then returning to town without any encounters in the wilderness.

Back in town, they split the loot, and then spent enough to buy a little plot and tombstone for Harambe, and then all shared a bowl of something powerfully hallucinogenic at the Black Dragon's Meed while carousing in memory of the man-ape (each of them rolled a hallucinatory "insight" on my carousing table, which can be "cashed in" from me at any time in a session--kind of like an acid flashback).

...

Later that week, a higher level Cleric named Lailith arrives in town, intent on constructing a shrine to her patroness, Saint Ursula, a bear-goddess who defends families and children. Despite Harambe's lack of any such family, she offers to raise Harambe from the dead for the paltry price of 300 gold coins, and after Little Bob exhumes the corpse (permanent -2 reactions check locally--someone saw him digging up the grave, and now he has a reputation for grave robbing), Harambe is succesfully returned to life, albeit -1 INT.

Remembrance for the Slain
Bacon (boar hound)

The Greyhame Mountain Dungeon Expedition 1

Orcs have returned to the caverns of the Glimmervaults;
The Goblin King and the Lord of Werewolves have renewed their ancient alliance beneath the Howling Tower;
and the secret treasury of the ancient Bronding Kings is said to lie somewhere behind the Brokenbrand Falls, haunted by enchanting naiads.

These four rookies heard the rumors and decided to see if they were brave enough to win gold and glory from the dungeons under the Greyhame Mountain:


Unga Dunga (halfling 1, mediocre in every attribute except a low charisma)
Lead (cleric 1, chaotic and good; and that's "lead" like "he leads", not the base metal)
Baby Face (thief 1, a strapping fellow who rolled 4 hp +1 for a total of 5)
Valor Justice (Elf 1, chaotic, in a very true sense)
and Sparkly the Mule (a mule, played on the table by a sparkly d12; the party kept my name)


After equipping themselves, the foolhardy four debated which rumor to follow for the best return, and settled on the Brokenbrand Falls, in part because of the "secret treasury" and also because they wanted to see the naiad river-babes.

The journey to Greyhame (the mountain under which these complexes lie) was a mere three days without incident, and the four found themselves at the base of a cliff, cleft into two east-facing promontories by the action of the falls over aeons. A great pool of water, sixty feet across, lay at the foot of the cliffs, the falls pouring into it some way back. On the south side a narrow stair, slick with moss and mist, was carved into the cliff-face, leading up west to a stone platform and a door. The climb up the stairs is treacherous, but everyone rolled above the threshold to fall.

From the platform, they could see another platform on the north side with another door into the south cliffs, with an even more treacherous path leading up to it, but after hearing that the chasm was 60' wide, they abandoned plans to rope across and turned the to the door before them. It led into a great hall with a statue of Brondr, the first King of the Brondings (semi-barbarian tribes that conquered their way south). The statue had residue of something green and slimey, but otherwise the room was empty.

A door on the east side of this hall opened into a kind of throne room with east-facing windows carved through the cliff. Three tapestries hung within, worn with age but possibly worth something. And, sitting on the throne, Valor heard a creaking beneath himself. Baby Face inspected it and found the seat opened to a secret compartment with a chest. Because first level thieves suck at everything, Baby Face failed to find the trap or pick the lock, but did manage to prick his finger with the poison needle--but did made his save against poison. After that, Valor forced the lock, finding inside a gold circlet and a vial.

Before anyone could stop him, Unga Dunga drank down the contents of the flask, and immediately his travel-worn and blistered feet felt better, as did the aches in his joints. But otherwise the potion of healing couldn't heal Unga Dunga's full hit points.

Continuing on, now westward, the party entered into a series of interconnected chambers with columns, and were immediately surprised by a green slime that dropped itself onto Lead, the cleric. The desperate fight against the green slime that followed--desperate despite automatic hits!--was the highlight for my evening.

First Valor, wielding the party's torch, struck the slime and did half damage to the slime, and half to Lead. Meanwhile, Lead continued to pry at his armor, but not fast enough. Baby Face considered shooting the slime with his bow, but opted instead to help Lead shuck his plate armor. With the armor off, the slime was on the floor, while Lead had slime bits still burning his flesh. Running from the slime as it tried to cling to his boots, Lead went to Unga Dunga and received another point of damage as the halfling cauterized the slime-wound. There then ensued several rounds of the slime attempting to cling to another character while the party did measly 1 damage here or there with their torches, or beat at it ineffectively with various weaponry. Finally, with three characters thrashing it with torches, the green slime discorporated. Lead found his armor wearable, but 1 AC worse, and continued the adventure with slime-burned armor and boots.

Shunning a second colony of green slime further west, the party entered a south door and looted an old guard post with sunlight shining in through an arrowloop on the eastern cliff face. But as they entered the next room west, I finally rolled a wandering monster, and the party found itself face-to-face with slow shambling zombies sprouting fungus. Lead's attempt to turn did nothing (they're not undead ...), so the party moved in with swords. Given how slow they are, the zombies always act last, but still managed to roll a critical against both Valor and Unga Dunga. I use the "Shields Shall be Splintered" rule in my games, so both the Elf and halfling broke their shields rather than take the damage (and fortunately, Valor had looted the single usable shield from the guard post as an extra).

Beyond that, they made short work of the zombies. Inspecting the room, the party found it seemingly an antechamber, with a bas-relief of a knight slaying a dragon on the wall (image of the lawful god Sabazios, but the whole party being chaotic, they didn't know)--and I, reexamining my key, remembered the grey ooze lurking in the corner. As it started to move toward the party, they hurled one of the re-dead bodies at it, and while it "fed", they fled.

A few rooms later, the party emerged into a huge hall filled with the roaring of the falls. They stood on a kind of raised platform with an idol of the River God (dude with a beard that becomes a river) surrounded by his naiad-daughters, wearing a fleece flecked with gold. Valor took the fleece; nothing happened, so they continued onward.

The hall below opens ultimately into a cave-section with a great pool from which the great falls drop into the pool at the cliffs' foot. Stalactite-stalagmite columns here are carved to resemble trees, and the branches bear jeweled fruit that, when plucked, become real, fleshy apple-type fruit. Baby Face elected to eat his pick, and immediately fell into a deep sleep. To wake him, Valor threw the thief into the water--but the thief wakened not, instead sinking and being carried by the current toward the falls.

As the party frantically tried to figure out how to save him, I rolled on the "what's in this pool?" key and the result is 2-12 naiads. I roll their reactions, and they like Baby Face. Six naked and beautiful Elf-women emerge from the pool with Baby Face in tow and ask if he belongs to the party? "If so, we want to keep him, unless you can give us something better." (also, the naiads commanded the return of the fleece to their river-idol).

 

Lots of haggling and wondering ensued. The naiads ultimately offered a bargan--"Either bring us another strapping young lad, or get rid of the nasty troll that lives in a cave to the north, and we'll return this fellow to you." The party elected for the troll, and the naiads showed the party where an old canoe was moored for use on the pools inside the cave, and took them to the troll's cave.

Turns out the troll was a trogre (if a gnoll is a cross between a gnome and a troll, you can guess what a trogre is), a little smaller, a little bit less regenerative, with only two attacks. By luck, the party managed to surprise it; and, because Valor had cast shield on himself so his AC was -2, and the trogre randomly selected Valor to kill (1-2 attacks Lead, 3-4 Valor, 5-6 Unga Dunga, and I roll a 3), and because they rolled a lot of hits on him fast, the party ganked the trogre before he could do any damage (got the night's second critical hit on Valor, but he broke his second shield!).

The trogre's trove was a lot of weird semi-valuable crap rolled with the ACKS treasure tables (e.g. 2 crates of pottery, several barrels of beer, 3 bolts of cloth and 15 bolts of garishly dyed cloth) along with some thousands of copper and silver. While Baby Face went around collecting what seemed valuable, Lead chopped up the cloth, covered the slowly regenerating body of the trogre, and set the whole sorry mess on fire. It slow-burned with a reeking greasy black smoke, but at last, the trogre was no more.

There followed a solid half hour of "negotiating" the division of the treasure, with Baby Face trying to retain a majority share, while Valor declared, "this isn't a negotiation, it's a shakedown--give us the money." At last, with the sword of Damocles (or Valor, rather) hanging over his head, Baby Face gave in and split the coin equally. I rolled several wandering monster checks to see if the bats in the cave above were home, but alas, nothing (seriously, it was like thirty minutes, I rolled every ten).

Freed by this deed to flee from the naiads, the party traipsed their way back through the way they'd come, slipping by the grey ooze with a lucky open doors roll before it could react .

But they still had to climb down the stair, and Lead rolled a 1. Down into the pool below he went, taking a mere 1 damage from rocks, but otherwise sinking quickly in his plate armor. Attempts to help by the party failed, but Lead managed to survive by rolling a swim check, despite his armor.

At long last, the party returned to town (that is, Brakeridge); I suggested carousing, per the rules I lifted from Jeff Rients (though with my own slightly rewritten mishaps table). Lead and Valor made their saves, though Lead spent himself back down to 10 gp by blowing 600 gp on booze and hookers. Meanwhile, Unga Dunga made his save against poison to avoid VD from his own whoring; and Baby Face drunkenly insulted some fop who turned out to be the son of Morholt--and Morholt is the local strongman lord, a chaotic usurper. Naturally, this means Vendetta between Baby Face and Morholt's clan--and hopefully we'll find out more in future games.

...

Theoretically, I'm going to find a place downtown here in Moscow (Idaho, where the University of Idaho is) to run this game once or twice a month as a walk-in game for those who show up and want to play. The guys who played tonight I actually know, so it wasn't really pick-up tonight; but they did express interest in playing again, so I hope we can continue their adventures, and perhaps even include a roster of rotating cast-members.