Session 7 Recap & Experience Points Awards

Session 7 Recap & Experience Points Awards

Poised at the crest of an alpine ridge along the southwest rim of the Quilderran Forest, the company gathered itself and prepared for the descent into Shadow Valley.  They’d traveled three days from the village of Horl, and were finally in sight of their destination: the Evilgrove.  There, they expected the find the treasure vault they’d learned about from the warlord Soo-Kiru Kiru’s henchman, Mulder Vroso—and which their uneasy companion, the rogue Ipplie Amie, so intensely coveted.

It was Amie who would nonetheless delay the troupe’s departure that morning, insisting his portion of wealth gathered from the specter ridge the previous evening.  It took much to placate him, the rogue grudgingly satisfied with an equal share of the gold coins recovered but demanding a distribution of gemstones and a jeweled sword.  Satisfaction he did not receive, but in view of their mutual interests the matter was effectively tabled; Gambol, the warrior priest of Cygnival whose honesty is by now of some renown, was entrusted with disputed items, and an agreement reached to divide them along with the greater bounty expected from the Evilgrove.

The morning’s hike was an hour down the western face of the ridge, and another hour through the mountain grasses of the high valley before the company at last reached the first of the dark, angry trees.  Once there, it did not take long for the rogue Amie to prove his value.  An avatar of the fabled Deva Osinella awaited the company at the grove’s entrance and made clear the Quilderran goddess’s admonition.  “The Deva Osinella hath closed these pathways to men of good will,” she had said, “for the perils inside be severe.”  Only those with the elven password would proceed.

This was a challenge Amie alone could meet.  “Nevergloom,” the rogue at last uttered, and the avatar receded to her pillar.  There was a groan and a crunch, and the gnarled black trunks of the tortured Evilgrove trees gave way.  Amie said only that he’d learned it from a “lyric,” and offered no more details—only that more wards lay ahead, and only he knew the secrets to unlock them.

Soon inside the grove the party came upon an almost perfectly intact dragon skeleton, posed on a platform, trophy-like, by some mysterious magic.  But further inspection revealed nothing further of its origins or nature, and so the company soon moved on.

It was not long before the group came upon the first of many bridges in the Evilgrove, arched stone constructions spanning narrow rivulets of inky, purple water running through the trees.  By way of investigation, the dwarf Jowdain fed a grub onto a fishhook and tossed his line into the water—and at once the stream came alive with a frenzied bubbling and steaming—and then dissipated.  But some kind of fish had bitten Jowdain’s hook, which when pulled from the water was revealed to be a smallish yet fearsome thing—perhaps seven inches long with rows of razor-like teeth.  The cleric employed a speak with animals spell in an attempt to communicate with the fish, but found it to be capable of no apparent thoughts other than “kill” and “eat.”  With that, the group killed the fish with a dagger and Jowdain packed it away for a later meal.

In a further effort to learn more of their surroundings, several members of the group tried to cut, chop, and poke the twisted tree trunks and isolate rock formations that made up the virtual walls of the Evilgrove.  But they found these features resistant—perhaps impossibly so—to their efforts.  There was nothing to do but continue onward, through the winding and irregular pathways of the dim grove.

Suddenly, in a long corridor through the black trees, there appeared before the party a large, floating red ball of armor and eyes—a beholder of sorts, muttering incomprehensibly in the patois of the netherworld.  “Ko-mali-dee-kap,” it had said.  “So-miyjje!”

Ipplie Amie recognized the terror instantly; a “beholder” he had called it, a legendary demon of the pit.  This was fortunately a lesser version—armed with fewer magical eyestalks and much weaker than its more formidable cousins.  But the danger here was not to be taken lightly; the creature assaulted the company first with its pinkish slow ray, then tried to paralyze the mage Greyndalf with a second eyestalk attack.  Luckily, however, the magical attacks did not take hold and the company was able to greatly weaken the beast, before the relentlessly flamboyant gnome, Schlemeel, made his move. 

Undeterred by his history of stylistic, yet unsuccessful, fighting techniques, Schlemeel produced a whip in one hand and his trusty rapier in the other.  With the whip, he snagged the monster by its eyestalks, limiting its mobility and rendering it an easy target; then, in a truly inspired act, the gnome fatally skewered the fiend on his sword. 

In the aftermath, the Greyndalf collected several armor scales from the foes remains, while the ranger Zoroaster severed and kept one of its eyestalks.  But the real prize appeared moments later, when the cleric Gambol spotted the heft of a Sikk-See war axe protruding from the tree “wall.”  Greyndalf, a native of the eastern plains, had no trouble interpreting the Sikk-See runes.  They reveled the axe to be called “Blackhandle,” an enchanted weapon with the power to slow its wielder’s enemies. 

Before long the party came to a wider stretch of river, with a bridge leading to a barren island on which sat a small house or structure of some kind.  Yet this bridge was but a devious apparition, as Greyndalf—the first to set foot upon it—soon learned.  On dropping unexpectedly into the chill dark water, the mage instantly felt the fins and fangs of the swarming hell fish upon him.  They devoured his clothing, his bags and pouches, and had even started eating into his flesh by the time the elf deftly scrambled from the water.  He emerged a tattered mess—his clothing destroyed and all of his possessions lost to the Evilgrove.  But he’d escaped just in time to preserve his life.

Upon seeing the mage plunge from the illusionary bridge, Amie discerned that another of the wards mentioned in the lyric had been reached.  “Truespan,” he’d uttered, calling forth a winding rock path to the island.  But this path was far to the south along the watercourse for the group to reach; another approach would need to be found.

Again seeing no option but to further explore the grove, the party probed east and south, seeking a way to the truespan.  In a stroke of good fortune, the mage Greyndalf happened upon an old robe, and the company caught another glimpse of the small barren island and the unknown structure upon it—this time from a cave opening at the opposite end of the island, from where they could see the back half of the building had collapsed.  Here, the group further studied its destination, first with Greyndalf ascertaining by way of a detect magic spell that some invisible, enchanted dome covered the island.  And the dome appeared impassable, stopping an arrow shot toward the island and dropping it to the moat of razorfish below.  Only the truespan seemed to promise an entrance, and thus the company followed the grove along in further search of it.

What the company found instead was even more bizarre:  a flickering, jagged crack in reality that darted in an out of existence between four chiseled rock formations in a diamond-shaped clearing.  And before it stood a pair of tranx: thorny, bristled underdark monstrosities of chalky white, vaguely bi-pedal with long, thorny tails and heavy, fearsome spears.  Yet the party had taken these horrors by surprise, and within moments Greyndalf had disabled one with a sleep spell while the party’s blades and arrows cut heavily into the other.

Still, these enemies were not to be trifled with.  One tore devastatingly into Jowdain, bringing him to the brink of death before the cleric Gambol was able to intercede with a masterfully cast healing spell.  The same tranx walked unharmed through Greyndalf’s burning hands spell, laughing at its impotence, then landed another withering strike on the servant of Cygnival. 

The fiends’ immunities did not extend to the party’s enchanted weapons, however—and with the sleep spell having forced them to do battle separately, the company never quite felt at serious risk of defeat.  The second enemy awakened just as the first was defeated, and after sustaining a series of grievous wounds fled for the gleaming tear.  It did not make it, falling dead as a final magic arrow from Zamphir’s longbow pierced its jagged body.

As the sounds of combat fell silent, the weary travelers gathered themselves and braced for still more hazards.  The truespan was near.  It had to be.   

Adventure Notes:

·      Brown Quipper.  Long have you known of quipper fish, small yet extremely aggressive specimens, schools of which sometimes appear in larger rivers and northern freshwater lakes.  But while the common quipper fish is of blue-green hue, the version you discovered in the rivulets of the Evilgrove was dark brown and seemingly even more vicious.   At only 5-7 inches in length, a single brown quipper is of little threat by itself.  Yet a swarm of brown quippers will mercilessly destroy its prey, inflicting 3d10 damage per round on a person exposed to the fish.  During the first round of a quipper swarm attack, however, you note that the school will divert one d10 of its damage to destroying the victim’s armor or clothing and a second d10 to destroying any objects he or she may have been carrying, so that only the one remaining d10 worth of damage tends to be inflicted during the first round of the swarm.

·      Spectator.  Typically found deep in the underdark, the magical eye tyrants (or “beholders”) count among the most fearsome beasts known to the Central Range.  While few who have seen the great beholders lived to report the tale, more common are tales of encounters with their lesser cousins—such as the “spectators.”  Spectators closely resemble the true beholders, yet vary widely in color and tend to carry fewer (and, thankfully, less powerful) of the magical eyestalks.  While some (the lesser spectators) spectators have been reported to hold as few as two or three of the deadly eyestalks, most (the common spectators) have around four.  The one you faced had five, including a paralyzation ray and a slow effect.  The spectator has armor-like scales that cover its exterior, giving it a natural armor class of about 14, but is not especially durable (about 35 hit points). 

·      Blackhandle.  The ancient ebon war axe of the Sikk-See bears a rune giving its name as “Blackhandle.”  It’s a fine weapon, bearing a wizard’s enchantment (+1) and forcing enemies struck by the axe to save vs. intelligence (at DC 10) or be slowed for 2-5 rounds (d4+1).

·      Tranx.  Your travels this day brought you into contact with two horrible tranx— magic enemies of the underdark bearing terrible forked spears and bristling with spikes.  The tranxi proved dangerous in battle, immune to magical fire and striking for 5-19 points of damage with their noisome spears and icy claws.  Luckily, the ones you faced succumbed to a first level sleep spell, and another sought to flee the battle at the first sign of difficulty.   You estimate the tranx at roughly 22-25 hit points and an armor class of 13..

Experience Points & Inspiration 

DM’s experience award moderation note: In this campaign, experience points are awarded for overcoming obstacles, solving problems, and achieving goals.  Although experience points are typically awarded for defeating adversaries, note that an adversary need not necessarily be killed to earn those points if the adversary can be defeated in another way.  Experience points are earned collectively and then divided among the player-characters.  In addition to experience points, players can earn inspiration for creativity, superior tactics, and especially strong role-playing.

The party defeated the mad spectator Urkushkali in this session, as well as two tranxi, for a total of 2,550 experience points.  This amounts to 425 XP per character (with Ipplie Amie receiving a sixth share).   

In addition, the party also earned experience for the following accomplishments in this stage of the adventure:

• ·      Reaching a détente with Ipplie Amie over the division of treasure (30 XP);
• ·      Reaching (and gaining access to) the Evilgrove (100 XP);
• ·      Ascertaining the hazard in the Evilgove streams (50 XP);
• ·      Recovering Blackhandle (80 XP);
• ·      Detecting the ward over the vault island (60 XP);
• ·      Finding the planar gate (20 XP).

These 440 XP are divided among the player characters only, for 85 XP apiece.

Retired Michigan head football coach Lloyd Carr used to say, “luck is when preparation meets opportunity.”  That may be true in football.  But in the Central Range, luck is when opportunity meets natural 20.  Nothing proved that adage better than Schlemeel’s stunning   triumph over Urkushkali (and the laws of probability), so obvious inspiration point is obvious.

A similarly breathtaking sequence from Session 7 unfolded near the end of the tranxi battle, when in the course of under two full combat rounds the dwarf Jowdain (i) sustained a massive, 32-hit point blow, and was knocked unconscious; (ii) was healed for 19 hit points (the maximum possible with the cure moderate wounds spell) by the cleric Gambol, thus regaining consciousness and returning to his feet; then (iii) landed a crucial axe hit of his own on the infernal enemy.  For this amazing reversal of fortune, Jowdain too receives an inspiration point.

Greyndalf’s embrace of his newfound “freedom” was perhaps less than truly inspiring.  But the acquisition of a nickname is a feat the adventure gods hold in high regard.  For this, the Naked Wizard is awarded a bonus of 40 XP.

Final Session 7 totals:

·      Jowdain acquitted himself well in battle, earning 510 experience points and one point of inspiration.

·      Gambol pleased his deity and is rewarded with 510 experience points.

·      Greyndalf remained a cunning and resourceful adversary, acquiring 550 experience points.

·      Schlemeel still don’t give a f*k.  But he did pick up 510 XP and an inspiration point.

·      Zaxxon proved he’s more than just a tricky name, garnering 510 XP.