Session 31 Recap & Experience Points Awards

The Wildcats’ heartbeats slowed to healthier pace and they cupped fingers across their noses as the last of the enemies fell, a hulking giant whose scorched remains lay smoldering on the field of battle.  All had lived to see the next battle, and the company scattered to scoop the assorted coins and valuables from the dispatched foes.  Of interest, one unceremoniously slain half-ogre carried a remarkable greatsword that revealed a faint enchantment to the elf Greyndalf’s detection.  But there was little more; surely these beast-men were just another of the countless Lono-Knollen raiding parties for which this wilderness has so long been notorious.  And now there is one fewer.

Nothing disturbed the company in their rest that evening, and the Wildcats set off again at daybreak.  Already their Treefolk guide Ceshtyr awaited them, the elder prodding his charges with curious claims—that “a good man need only three hours’ rest” and that “only a hard breakfast keep a hard man hard.”  These were taken with a nod of dishonest affirmation, as none in the company had a wont to question the elderly—and anyway it ‘’twould scarcely have done to argue on such perplexities as “where the wood can tell, wear the stone well.” 

The forest gradually thickened as the party moved west, with a tall, thin butte coming into view in the middle distance. Surely this was the Eastern Mount, the Wildcats suspected—and Ceshtyr confirmed the same quickly enough.  But there was scant time for discussion as a snap and rustle sounded through the brush and in moments the company faced the second band of Lono-Knollen raiders it had encountered in so many days of travel.  This band was much different than the last, though—mostly orcs, with an equally disgusting two-headed giant in their mids that Cestyr called an “ettin” as if he’d seen such a monstrosity before.

The company ducked into the tall grasses and hoped the Lono-Knollen would pass them by.  But there was no such luck to be had, for the marauders spotted or heard or smelled the Wildcats through the moderate brush and quickly stormed into battle.  They would soon regret that decision.

In a seeming rerun of their previous Lono-Knollen encounter, the sorcerer Onog conjured an iron crown of thorns to clamp upon the head of the enemy giant. The giant in question being a two-headed ettin this time around, however, even Onog himself scarcely knew what to expect if his incantation proved successful.  Yet the adventure gods were with him this day, for upon uttering the final tones of the incantation, there appeared not only a single crown but also a second—and the pair readily affixed to both heads of the charging ettin.  Taken by the magic, the foe stopped, turned, and bashed the first of its raging orc companions to foul oblivion.

With the spell having turned their ettin heavy from ally to adversary, the orcs stood no chance against the Wildcats.  Several fled back through the forest while the rangers Unagi and Ceshtyr calmly dropped those who remained with a flurry of precise bowshots.  Thus isolated, the company turned their attacks back upon the solitary ettin—first weakening it with weapon strikes and lesser magic, until the mage Greyndalf discharged a decisive lightning bolt to conclude the encounter.

These Lono-Knollen proved even poorer than the last—and also the final obstacle the company would meet on their march to the Eastern Mount.  Reaching the trailhead late in the afternoon, the Wildcats stopped to ponder a small boulder with the weather-worn words “Eastern Mount” carved in the Balvin, Q’in, and Quilderran languages.  It was here that, on further inspection, the mage Greyndalf spotted an old compartment hewn into the rockface, which he easily slip open to find a trove of well-preserved components to many common incantations.

The gravelly trail ascended steeply to the north along the southeast face o the butte, and the Wildcats got their climb underway with Cestyr announcing dire warnings of falling rock and other vaguely-specified perils.  But his word held true almost instantly, as the rock path switched back presenting a narrow alley through boulders, choked at the bottom with vines.  “The call this Vultures’ Curve,” the woodsman warned—and as certain the sky darkened with several of those prowling black shapes above.  “Beasts of the Oscuro Madera would lie in wait here, looking to catch travelers looping around the outcrop.”

The quickly vines proved more than a mere inconvenience, for as the company passed over the treacherous tangles awakened!  The sinuous grasping vines caught hold of the dwarf Jowdain and the gnome Schlemeel, crushing them against rock and reaching for others as well.  But the peril was short lived, as the quick-thinking cleric Gambol invoked the word of his deity Cygnival to calm the vicious rockvines.  His comrades soon released, the company swiftly passed on.

Clear of the rockvines, the Wildcats continued their ascent to the next switchback, marked here by a towering pillar of ebon rock into which some ancient sculptor had carved a fifty-foot likeness of a thin, angular man staring intently to the northwest.  “This is said to be the figure of Jith Wan,” Ceshtyr announced.  “The old warlock from the western ruins.  Supposedly he stares directly at his temple—not sure I believe it though.”

The company paused to investigate the statue, the ranger Unagi going so far as to scale its pillar with the aid of Greyndalf’s spider climb.  But sometimes a statue be but a statue.  In concluding that nothing more remained to be found here, the party advanced up the path.

They came next to a sheltered fosse—a sort of natural, roofless “room” walled by the shards of rock arising from either side of the ridge.  Ceshtyr produced his small pipe and tobacco here, and seated himself upon a stone to announce his recess.  This left the company to mill about the fosse, finding signs of old passage: bits of rotten cloth, stone rings around husks of burnt logs, and a series of odd names etched into the northeast corner and bearing a date five years agone.    

From the fosse, the cliff sides dropped away—first to the southeast, then to the north—and allowed the company sweeping views across the Voo River countryside (to the south), then the blue-tinged pines of the Oscuro Madera to the north.  The Wildcats found great beauty in the former, but great terror in the latter—for far in the distance, their eyes caught a glipse of a great winged serpent rising above the treetops, then diving back under.  ““His name is Idrinayne,” the ranger muttered.  “Scourge of the Oscuro Madera.  We must keep our distance.”

From the overlooks the path grew steeper, sharply so, as the company came next upon a second fosse.  Using ropes to steady their progress, the Wildcats moved confidently into the chamber—only to find they would not be there alone.  Several vicious mountain cats—perhaps a local variant of the cougar that Cestyr called a “muckpaw”—charged the slow-climbing adventurers from the top of the rise, wounding several party members with their razor claws and jaws.  And then appeared their master—a massive humanoid over ten feet in stature, with deep gray skin under a shag of crusty dark hair and the telltale carrot nose of troll-kind.

There could be no retreat for either Wildcat or troll in this head-on encounter, forcing a desperate battle in the high reaches of the Eastern Mount ascent.  First the muckpaws dropped, one-by-one, to the axe blows of Jowdain and the evocations of his allies.  But the troll stood tall, hurling boulders like snowballs and growing ever harsher and fiercer as the Wildcats pricked its flesh with arrows and blades.  Even so, its fortune could not hold.  For as each of its muckpaws fell the troll became successively more outnumbered, until the foe was at last overcome.

Climbing at last into the troll’s lair, a grimy mountain shelf with a driving view to the southwest, Ceshtyr again puffed his curly tobacco pipe.  “We are close,” the woodsman related.  “Soon you will look upon the temple ruin.” 

Adventure Notes

Ettin.  Your travels have brought you into contact with many revolting humanoid creatures that comprise the Lono-Knollen raiding bands populating the north wilderness: trogs, orcs, various goblins, ogres and ogrillions, even a hill giant.  But perhaps none were so revolting as the two-headed giant you met on the trail to the Eastern Mount this past session.  Ceshtyr called this an “ettin,” and insisted the being’s lineage runs more closely to the orc than to man.  You hope not to come across another anytime soon, given its great power (21 STR) and viciousness (two attacks per round at +7 to hit, doing 2d8+5 damage with its oversized melee weapons).  Fortunately the ettin wore only a patchy hide armor (AC 12) and was not especially stout (~80-90 hit points).

Rockvines.  One of the more dangerous creatures you have encountered in you adventures were the rockvines that lay in wait for the company along the path up the Eastern Mount.  Practically indistinguishable from ordinary vines or brambles, these powerful awakened plants grasp at the feet of passers-by, then use their great weight and strength to crush and grind their immobilized victims.  Luckily, they proved amenable to plant control magic.

Idrinayne.  You only spotted the dragon Idrinayne from a far distance.  According to Ceshtyr, however, the blackish-green beast is believed to make its lair to the north end of the Oscuro Madera—an entire forest turned dim and sinister from the dragon’s influence.  The ranger has no idea the wyrm’s age, length, or even the precise color of its scales.  “He’s plenty big and old enough for you,” the old man answers.  “Plenty enough for all of us.”

Muckpaw.  The rancorous cats Cestyr called “muckpaws” looked to you like large mountain lions or cougars, but grimy and with murderous yellow eyes—and seemed to have somehow fallen under the command of a solitary ridge troll.  Perhaps most memorable about the muckpaws was not their appearance, however, but their stench—an odor of death emanated from the beasts, which might well have induced full-on nausea in the company’s warriors had the crisp mountain air not reduced it.  The muckpaws were reasonably tough enemies (~25 hit points), but were not especially nimble despite their feline nature (AC 12)—and while packing a dangerous initial pounce (target must save to avoid being knocked prone if the muckpaw moves at least 20 feet on its turn before striking), the beasts were not particularly dangerous in close combat (two claw attacks at +4 to hit, d10+1 damage per round).

Ridge Troll.  There was no question the giant the company met high on the Eastern Mount was some form of troll, as its languorous flesh and pencil nose betrayed.  But unlike other trolls the party has encountered, this one did not so much regenerate its wounds as instantly grow thick, armor-like scars over them—making the already well-armored troll (base AC 17) successively more difficult to hit.  Fortunately, the scarring seemed only to build after slashing or piercing strikes on the ridge troll; the augmented armor proved no use against the company’s magic missiles and other force-based attacks.  The ridge troll was incredibly stout (~125 hit points) and fought much like a more traditional giant: disdaining tactics, aggressively throwing boulders and punching with heavy fists.

Experience Points & Inspiration

            Combat/Encounters

The company fought two moderately challenging encounters in this session.  These included a band of Lono-Knollen marauders comprised of eleven orcs and an ettin, as well as the ridge troll and its muckpaw companions.  The XP value of the Lono-Knollen encounter is 6,600 XP, and then ridge troll/muckpaw battle is worth 7,200 XP.  In addition, the company encountered four rockvines and was able to escape them after a brief skirmish; at this time the party is awarded 1,200 XP for that encounter (which is 50% of the 2,400 XP potential value) because the rockvines remain and may need to be dealt with again should the party need to pass along the same trail.  This total amounts to an even 15,000 XP for the session.  Although the ranger Ceshtyr Ogdurn did participate in these encounters, he will only be assigned a half-share of the XP because his role was minimal.  Accordingly, Ceshtyr is awarded 1,071 XP, leaving 13,929 XP to be divided among the six player characters.  That amounts to 2,321.5 XP per character, which we shall round up to 2,325 XP apiece.

                  Interactions/Role-Playing/Quest progress

In session 31, the company reached the Eastern Mount and then progressed quite far along the path to its summit.  Along the way, the company (i) passed Vultures Curve, (ii) reached the statute of Jith Wan, (iii) found the memorial in the Lower Fosse, (iv) spotted Idrinayne above the Oscuro Madera, and (v) defeated the ridge troll to pass the Upper Fosse.  For these accomplishments, the party is awarded an additional 1,775 XP.  This award is divided solely among the six PCs for a total of 295.833 XP apiece, which we shall round up to an even 300 XP per character.

            Inspiration

Much as the adventure gods are tempted to bestow the inspiration award for this session upon the half-orc sorcerer for a timely bit of mastery that installed a crown of madness upon both heads of a marauding ettin, the downside to that affair was missing out on the assuredly entertaining story of a two-headed giant with just one head so afflicted.  And besides, the ensuing ease of that otherwise challenging battle could be considered award enough.

Rather, an small but memorable moment transpired this session when the ever-eager mage Greyndalf so thoroughly inspected the Eastern Mount trailhead and its surroundings that he located a secret cache of old mushrooms, copper wires, and other assorted materials useful in the magical arts.  That was in the script, sure, yes.

Final Session 27-28 totals:

Jowdain acquitted himself well in not battle, garnering 2,625 XP.

Gambol pleased his deity and is rewarded with 2,625 XP.

Greyndalf remained a cunning and resourceful (and still reasonably naked) adversary, earning 2,625 XP and one point of inspiration.

Schlemeel still don’t give a f*k, but he picked up 2,625 XP.

Onog played it cold as ice, and acquired 2,625 XP.

Unagi looked fresh as ever and gained 2,625 XP.