Session 12 Recap & Experience Points Awards
A slight murmur broke the repose of the Quilderran village
and increased soon to a commotion. A
lone merchant’s wagon had come, pulled slowly by a lone horse and bearing the
scars of recent battle. It moved slowly
through the nervous crowd, coming finally to a stop when hailed by the wizard
Greyndalf, who stood at the head of his nameless adventuring company. Momentarily the wagon’s driver confirmed the
crowd’s widespread assumption: trogs had attacked a caravan along the forest
road, and this was the sole survivor.
The driver related this dire news as an oddly compelling
figure approached—a middle-aged elven woman, her skin darkened with tattoo ink
and her hair wild with dreadlocks. This
was none other than the Osinella Tiamala, hereditary matriarch of the Quilderran.
She approached with Pelifras, and on
observing the battered wagon sized up the village’s peril straightaway. “The trogs have never been so bold,” she
declared, “as to openly strike a caravan on the forest road.”
Tiamala disclosed that her network of spies had reported the
root of this uprising as one Kyzagone Rakke, an ambitious ogre mage warlord
who’d installed himself in an old monastery ruin some distance to the
southeast. The local trog bands and pine
goblin tribes had long been nuisances—but erratic and disorganized. They’d posed a much more formidable threat
since coming under Rakke’s influence—joining into larger war parties, attacking
strategic and well-protected targets (like work camps, and now caravans) under
distinct leadership. This was a threat
the Quilderran could no longer abide.
Still, Tiamala felt the Quilderran village was vulnerable,
and that what warriors she had were needed there. But “the ogre mage troubles us all,” she
posited, and urged the adventuring company to undertake the journey into the
eastern ruins. The Osinella could offer
little in the way of material support.
“But few secrets in this forest are long concealed from the Quilderran,”
Tiamala disclosed. “Those who travel
with the eyes of the Quilderran see sharply indeed.”
The company readily agreed to this mission. Yet, anticipating they might become the next
victims of a trog ambush, the group first requested that the elves allow them a
horse-drawn wagon loaded with combustibles.
This was promised for the morning, which left the group plenty of time
to rest—and to track down the family of Kerlinala, the elven ranger whose
dagger the company had found at the bottom of the Horl mud cave.
Kerlinala’s next-of-kin was a young elven man called Gome
Elhen, who ran a small gallery nestled in the southwest of the village. His carvings of forest life were truly
remarkable—and not only for their unmatched detail; a spoken command could
bring the figurines to life for a time.
Like so many of the Quilderran, Elhen’s priorities seemed inscrutable to
the adventuring troupe, his value system utterly foreign. But the adventurers brought tidings of his
long lost mother’s fate—she’d fallen in the mud cave, and the company had briefly
recovered her precious dagger (before losing it themselves in the toxic waters
of the Evilgrove). This was sad, yet
welcome information, for which Elhen rewarded the company with one of his
wondrous carvings.
The company set out for the eastern ruins the following
morning. Tiamala’s spies had Rakke’s location
down to the library within the old Wan Temple complex—a vine-choked ruin
devoted to some forgotten god of beastly dog-like humanoids called
“gnolls.” Yet even Tiamala’s spies
hadn’t found the exact location of the Wan Temple—only that it was somewhere
southeast of Horl, beyond hills clogged with pine goblins. So Tiamala suggested the company first visit
Sil-Hurk, an eccentric ecclesiastic who keeps a shrine to the toxic god
Salmoirak on a rocky hilltop south of Horl.
“He’ll know the way to Kyzagone Rakke,” Tiamala predicted. “If you can get it out of him.”
As hoped, the Quilderran had supplied a wagon loaded with
high-proof elven spirits, and pulled by a sturdy draft horse called Mister
Marblebane. It wasn’t long before the
dwarf Jowdain revealed his uncommon interest in horses, quickly befriending the
animal and assuming the duties as its primary caretaker on a journey that led
slowly out of the Quilderran village and east-by-southeast along the shady
forest road.
Several hours into the expedition, several of the party
members began to draw the sensation of eyes upon them. Many eyes, stalking from the woods and on
both sides of the road. Nervously they
continued, fingers inches from their sword handles and straining with
peripheral vision—until finally the assault came. Wolves!
More than a dozen of the fearsome beasts launched from the treelines to
fall upon the surrounded wagon, snarling and ripping their claws at the
beleaguered warriors. The battle,
however, would not endure for long.
“Hold!” boomed the cleric Gambol, in a voice enchanted by
his speak with animals spell. “Why do you attack us, wolves?”
Wolves attack because it’s in their very nature, of
course. But for these wolves, perhaps
not. The pack leader was a calculating
sort, and this wagon smelled not of meat but of alcohol. Also the cleric spoke of trogs—those fell creatures,
increasingly common of late, which seem to defile the very land they travel
with each rancorous step. The trogs
truly were a common enemy—and if this strange party of liquor merchants was
determined to seek out trogs then surely it was best to let them pass. “Many trog east of here,” the pack leader
announced as the wolves drew back into the woods. “You find them soon.”
The ranger Unagi sent his hawk familiar to scout the road
ahead. The hawk found nothing to report
until just before night fell on the forest, when finally a swarm of dark
figures came into view. Unagi and the gnomish
rogue Schlemeel moved ahead of the company for an advance look, and the wolfpack
leader’s word proved true. Trogs—more
than a dozen strong, some accompanied by armored trog war dogs.
This reconnaissance had come at a cost, however—for the
trogs quickly spotted the ranger and the rogue, and charged forward in
pursuit. Unagi and Schlemeel clambered
up nearby trees in search of refuge as the balance of the adventuring company
advanced up the forest road to meet the charging trogs.
Within moments, the trogs surrounded the bases of Ugagi’s
and Schlemeel’s trees. As they began
climbing, Unagi readied his longbow and unleashed the first arrow into the trog
horde below. Schlemeel jabbed anxiously
at the first approaching trog, and watched his companions draw ever
closer.
Unsatisfied with his odds of holding off the climbing trogs,
Schlemeel then formulated a daring escape.
He would tie his rope to an arrow, shoot the arrow into the approaching
wagon—then zip-line down the rope to safety.
Unfortunately, the brilliance of the plan was foiled by execution, as
Schlemeel lost his balance and fell from the tree into the mob of vicious trogs. He was soon overwhelmed, wounded, and on
brink of death when at last the balance of the adventuring company
arrived. Grendalf’s well-placed thunderwave spell cleared trogs away
from Schlemeel, healing word from the
druid Yalla restored him to consciousness, and a sanctuary spell from Gambol kept the gnome mystically safe.
Meanwhile, the battle thundered on. Unagi fought off the climbing trogs with his
sword as they nipped at his heels. The
dwarf Jowdain, enraged at the danger the trogs presented to his equine friend Mister
Marblebane, charged forward and tore into the nearest enemies with his mighty
enchanted axe, Blackhandle. As the trog casualties mounted, Yalla called
on her spike growth spell to
beleaguer the trogs ever further—and Greyndalf then blasted the trog leader
with a hail of magic missiles.
With their leader fallen and the tide of the battle having
turned steeply against them, most of the few remaining trogs summoned the rage
to continue the fight—yet to little avail against the company’s skilled
warriors. But not the last trog. Broken by the manifest helplessness, he thrust
down his weapon and surrendered in his broken orcish cant.
On a brief interrogation, the trog revealed that three large
groups of trog warriors were operating in the area. They served Kyzagone Rakke, the trog
confirmed. “He’s the true power in these
forests.” But there was little else of
value to learn from this trog, and the company had gained little from having
shown mercy to a trog raider once before.
So neither the trog nor the pious Gambol ever saw it coming, when
Jowdain snuck up from behind and decapitated the hapless prisoner.
The warriors wiped the trog blood from their weapons and
picked through the detritus of the many fallen foes, before the company slowly
reassembled. In the flickering
torchlight, Schlemeel checked his wounds—principally reduced through magical
healing, but these were trog blades.
With a deep breath, he prayed to Sol that the rot had not taken
hold. And then he looked…
Adventure Notes:
·
Osinella Tiamala. The self-effacing matriarch of the
Quilderran tribe, Osinella Tiamala sought you out in the village and urged your
assistance in meeting the threat of Kyzagone Rakke—an ogre mage warlord based
out of a temple ruin southeast of Horl.
Though the Quilderran have few warriors (apparently, just Pelifras and
his handful of mostly inexperienced scouts), Tiamala suggests the Quilderran
have many spies and informants that enable her to keep the village safe through
the strength of intelligence, rather than arms.
·
Sil-Hurk.
Osinella Tiamala recommended that you visit the hilltop shrine
of Sil-Hurk, a venerable cleric to the toxic god Salomirak, south of Horl. You wonder what kind of being could long
exist in isolation there, in a foreboding wilderness on the edge of the pine
goblin realms.
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 faced a trog war chief, three trog leaders, and 16
trogs in battle this session, as well as two trog war dogs. The company is awarded 2,220 experience
points for defeating these foes. In
addition, the party faced an attack by eleven wolves and a wolfpack leader; the
party was able to “win” this encounter by using a speak with animals spell and then persuading the pack leader to
abandon the assault. The party is thus
awarded the full 700 experience points for that encounter as well, for a total
of 2,920 XP.
In addition, the party earned experience points for the
following accomplishments:
- · Successful interaction with Gom Elhan, 75 XP;
- · Successful interaction with Osinella Tiamala, 75 XP;
- · Persuading the Quilderran to provide a horse & wagon, 50 XP;
- · Rescuing Schlemeel from (what appeared to be) certain doom, 125 XP;
- · Gathering useful intelligence from the surrendered trog, 50 XP;
This total (3,295 XP) is divided evenly among the six
current player characters, for an even 549.17 XP apiece. We will round that up to 550 XP apiece.
The adventure gods smiled down on Jowdain this session,
appreciating his instant loyalty and compassion for an old draft horse that had
somehow come into elven possession. As
it was his protective instinct for the horse that inspired Jowdain in his
battle with the trogs, so shall Jowdain be empowered to inspire another on some
future battlefield.
Schlemeel’s attempt to zipline down from the treetops was,
ah, not as successful. But as is often
said this time of year, it’s the thought that counts.
Final Session 11 totals:
- · Jowdain acquitted himself well in battle, garnering 550 XP and one point of inspiration.
- · Gambol pleased his deity and is rewarded with 550 XP.
- Greyndalf remained a cunning and resourceful (and mostly naked) adversary, earning 550 XP.
- · Yalla was one with nature, and nature was one with her. Or something. She gets 550 XP.
- · Unagi looked fresh as ever and gained 550 XP.
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