I truly saw hope for a face to face RPG this summer when I went back east to see family. It took insistent Facebook posts to many former gaming friends and a willingness to go anywhere at any time, but I achieved it. I managed to get two other players across the table with Player Character Sheets in one hand and polyhedral dice in the other!
What follows is the after action report I generated to commemorate the occasion. We played TSR's
B10 Night's Dark Terror with
BRP's Classic Fantasy rules by Rodney Leary.
From the private diaries of
Princess Illiria:
A
tale of bold adventure as written by Lady Illiria Callathian of House
Callathian in the month of Klarmont this common year of 978 from the home of my
father, Lord Callathian. May his spirit always lend light to the protectors of
the realm. This is a tale of the brave clansmen of Sukiskyn Steading and their
valiant defense of their homes against a rising tide of evil which threatened
East Karameikos, if not all of the great Duchy itself. Guided by the steady
hand of Ethan the Pure, relying on the forest lore of Darkin Youngshanks, and
aided by the strength of the mighty Traldarian warrior Udoben
I am able to relate to you all the dark days of adventure which befell us all…
PC’s have no trouble holding
the steading against the goblin squads which attempt to overrun the buildings.
Assessing the damage the attacking monsters wrought the clan’s leader, Pytor,
is completely despondent. With the theft of his entire herd his successful
horse operation is ruined. He begs the PC’s to try and save his animals from
the clutches of the goblin hordes. He reminds the elf princess that the
pregnant mare is amongst the captured. The pressure to rescue the herd of
whites is indeed great. The cleric uncovers religious fetishes carried by the
goblin dead which indicate the two goblin tribes worship the ancient beast
lords the Dog, and the Bear.
The party consists of the elf
princess who is always accompanied by her ranger body guard, the visiting
cleric feels compelled to investigate the threat of the beast lord cult, while
the fighter who is under Pytor’s employ is ordered to lead the expedition. The
four will be able to travel on the horses they arrived on. They leave by early
afternoon quickly on the heels of the retreating goblin horde.
Knowing they were only hours
behind the fleeing horde, the PC’s take deliberate care to stay just off the
monster’s heels. The ranger mostly ranged while the party stayed put, bringing
them up once he had scouted many leagues ahead.
The frightened herd of Sukiskyn
whites is spotted across from a wooded hillside with a rocky brook trickling
along the front. The primitive paddock is constructed of thorny bunches of
brambles grown into a thick, dense mass approximately four feet high. Two wargs
loiter outside the one opening. The horses are too frightened to attempt to run
or leap the thorn bush walls. The horses have the capability. They could easily
leap the paddock walls, and outdistance the wargs, but they are too gripped
with fear.
The PC’s count the number of
horses in the paddock, and look for the pregnant mare amongst them. They notice
it is only half the herd. 21 total horses are in the thorn paddock, and the
pregnant mare is not among them.
The elfin princess cast forth
arcane symbols in the air breathing strange words of power and a white wisp,
tendrils of delicate smoke begin to rise from the earth around the 2 menacing
dire wolves. Unaware of the subtle clouds enchanted qualities, the fearsome
creatures doze gently into a sleep. With the only outside guards neutralized,
the party boldly approaches the goblin’s front door. The stout wooden door has
a crude lock keeping the handle from working. The elf’s lock pick set does not
have the appropriate tool to unhinge it so the ranger, and the fighter?cleric?
jointly kick it down. The warriors force their way into the entry. After
lighting torches one of the party members (I believe it was either the ranger
or fighter with spear) moves down the passage way. Confronting the goblin
blockade they quickly overrun the position, and continue on.
They push their way into the
main hall of the underground goblin lair. Here the goblin shaman with the rock
pythons has assembled his personal guard to meet the attackers. He immediately
throws two squirming snakes and one manages to wrap around the elf’s arm. The
guards rush the party. While the elf struggles with the crushing grip of the
rock python, the warriors make quick work of the goblins. It takes a moment to
stab the aggressive snake, but not before the elf’s arm received significant
crushing damage. Chance to cast spell has been reduced by 25% until healed. The
party takes a moment to attend to the wounds received in the two quick melee
sessions. The cleric and the elf received wounds which require attention. While
administering the triage, the party forgets about the other Rock Python the
dead goblin shaman had hurled. It strikes from the shadows and bites down on
the elf’s leg causing a wound. With this minor annoyance dealt with the party
investigates the room a bit. Here they find a small box with three bottles of
potion, jewelry, and coin. They also turn up a wounded goblin (or one of them
surrendered?) and do a fast interrogation. Confirming that the goblin raiders
are making for the Lake of Lost Dreams the fighter kills the goblin.
The party is now confronted
with the issue of the split herd. The pregnant mare is believed to be essential
in the goblin’s plans and whatever the goblins are up to should be stopped.
Unchecked goblin aggression and sorcery can only spell doom for countless
Traldarian homesteaders. But to forge ahead onto the lake would mean leaving
the current horses they just secured defenseless and lost in the Dymrak forest.
The ranger smartly asks if he
knows any helpful information about the Dymrak and wants to roll against his
wilderness lore, and folk lore skills. Scoring a good roll, he knows of Loshad,
a centaur. He is rumored to be a self appointed keeper of the Dymrak and the
creatures which inhabit it. Surely if he could be summoned he could be
entrusted with the safekeeping of the horses. The fact that they wish to pursue
even more horses and save them from the black goblin beasts should say the
woodland druid to their cause. There is a glade in which the Vylari elves pay
homage to the keepers of the forest not far from here and the ranger recommends
they make an attempt to contact Loshad. The elf and the cleric agree to
accompany the ranger and try and call the on the centaur while the fighter
chooses to stay and guard the horses.
The ranger knows the fabled
greeting verse but says he is not good at such things. The cleric steps forth
and gives his best oration in the woodland glade. Presently a centaur appears
flanked by three majestic war horse and gives the group a greeting. The centaur
listens intently to what the PC’s have
to say and offers a bargain.
Loshad agrees to take the 21
Sukiskyn horses under his protection but if the PC’s would like them returned
to Sukiskyn Steading they will have to destroy the earthly champions fighting
on behalf of the Dog and the Bear. These two loathsome servants of evil crave
power over the Dymrak and wish to feast on the blood of its denizens. Upon
delivering their heads to this glade Loshad will release the horses from his
care.
He does forewarn the party they
lack the weapons of power to face these demons. That they are men transformed
by the disease of lycanthropy and will take special care to defeat. The path to
the lake will bring you face to face with danger, but also on this path will
you find the tools you need to be victorious. None have called on the
vanquished beast lords of old in countless centuries, and the goblins should
not be allowed to try herald their return. All this Loshad discloses to the
PC’s.
“Ask the Vyalia elves who watch
the lake for where such weapons of power can be found. Ask for the weapons of
the huntsman because the beast is loose.” And with that the mighty centaur
vanishes into the forest with his body guards and the herd.
Upon returning to the Viper’s
lair they find the fighter bereft of horses. He explains three magnificent war
horse came galloping into the glen and led the herd away. He was transfixed by
the brilliant singing which emanated throughout the surrounding forest. While
the language was not intelligible, the effect was exhilarating as it was
calming. He assumed the negotiations with the magical centaur went well.
Resuming their journey now on
foot (as all the horses went with Loshad’s heralds) the PC’s arrive at the Lake
of Lost Dreams .
Travel Times
48 miles from Sukiskyn
to the Viper’s lair.
27 miles from the
Viper’s lair to the Lake of Lost Dreams.
27 miles from the lake
to the Tombs on the Hill.
63 miles from the tombs
to Sukiskyn.
21 miles from the tombs
to the Were beasts lair.
59 miles from the lake
to Sukiskyn
At the Lake of Lost Dreams the
PC’s are confronted by a much larger goblin horde than they had encountered
during the fight for Sukiskyn steading. The Viper, Red Blade, and Wolf Skull tribes
are joined by at least one other goblin tribe. Maybe more. The number of
goblins is over two hundred and fifty with at least a quarter of them mounted
on dire wolves. The additional horses captured in the raid are held against the
edge of the forest under the surrounding gaze of 4 wargs. The horses have been
hobbled so they cannot run away. On the shore the goblins are roasting
horseflesh over great fires while the goblin kings argue with a thin man
clothed in yellow . The angry man is backed by a group of fearsome hobgoblin
bodyguards. A smaller squad of goblins is finishing a raft which they are
loading the pregnant mare onto. The raft is adorned with horse skulls and
markings of the beast lord cult.
While the PC’s deliberate on
what to do five elves make their appearance out of the night. They are a group
of Vyalia elves and they believe the yellow robed magician intends to summon
the beast lords by performing an ancient ritual at the temple on the island
found in the lake. The goblin horde has been gathering on the lake shore for
the past several days seemingly in anticipation of the blood ritual. The elves
implore the PC’s to aid them in their attempt to thwart the summoning ritual.
While the Vylia elves are
forbidden to step foot on the island itself, they can show the PC’s a secret
stone path which leads across the water to the island. They inform the PC’s
that there is a temple at the center of the island which was dedicated to the
Grey Gods, the gods of the Vylian elves. But the beast lords were ascendant,
and the Grey Gods were cast out of Mystara. Not until the coming of man, and
the High Clerics where the beast lords and their demon allies cast from the
realm and the age of man established. But the temple on the island had been desecrated
and a great evil laid over it. Insanity and death befell any of the Vyalia who
dared tread in the once hallowed halls of the temple. The great artifact, the
White Mirror, was turned toward the summoning of evil. The “Black Mirror”,
under the hands of mad necromancers of old, would call forth the black beast lords to walk the
earth among elves and men. Great sorrow poured forth from the mirror and only after
the total annihilation of all the sordid priesthood’s acolytes and the dark knowledge
they possessed were the beast lords stopped. The elves fear the magician is
going to try and open that long dormant gateway once again.
The elves promise to help free
their white horses from the clutches of the goblins if they make an attempt to
stop the summoning ritual.
Once upon the island the party
sees the magic user leading a group of 4 hobgoblins and the pregnant mare. At
the temple 4 hooded acolytes are positioned around a central alter. Torches
adorn the temple, while the hobgoblins have each a torch as well as a rope
attached to the horse.
The party wastes no time on the
attack. Conjuring another sleep spell the elf is successful in knocking 2 of
the hobgoblin guards unconscious. The ranger sinks an arrow into Golthar which
brings him to his knees. Additional volleys are sent at the nearest acolyte
striking home. Suddenly the temple is shrouded in a cloak of darkness yielding
no more visible opponents.
The 2 hobgoblin guards on their
feet howl in anger and charge the party wielding large broadswords. The sword
play is protracted with the charmed hobgoblins shaking off the sleep spell and
joining the fray. Fortunately the party is able to maintain a 2-1 advantage and
cut down the guards beneath multiple attacks.
Approaching the darkness
enveloped temple the cleric boldly runs up the steps and in. Satisfied the mist
only affects vision he is shortly joined by the rest of the heroes. A visible
blood trail leads to an iron ladder leading into a stone lined chamber below.
Two acolytes standing in the shadows attack the party with knives. The mad eyed
fanatics are dispatched and their robes turned out. They are inscribed with Dog
and Bear symboligy while the sleeves have stitched in an attached pair of
gloves made of tough layers of leather. The fighter and the elf don the robes
in an attempt to appear as the cultists. The elf listens at the opening before
descending. Exploring the level they notice the original motifiefs to the Elvin
lords is scarred and overwritten by much more primitive hieroglyphs. Inanimate
skeletons found in the anti chambers leads to party to conclude that they are
burial chambers. And who is to say they are not?
The elf makes a successful
dodge roll after grabbing hold of the stair without using the gloves inside her
robes. A critical success avoids all damage while a blue white crackling
discharge erupts in the room. After much discussion about being careful, the
fighter and elf head down the next ladder. Once on the deepest level of the
temple the elf once again leads the way down the passage. A failed spot roll
leads to the dart trap being triggered. Failing the second consecutive dodge
roll the elf sinks to the ground unconscious with a dart in her ankle. The rest
of the party decides to leave her there and press the attack. Bursting through
the door the fighter? and cleric? Fail sanity rolls and are immobilized by the
sights before them. The elf is protected from the maddening inducing properties
of the mirror by the fact she is rendered senseless by the dart venom. The
remaining upright character gets entangled with the two remaining acolytes
while Golthar pleads for aid from the appearing Dog and the Bear. Without the
blood sacrifice of the unborn stallion the Dog and Bear could not step through
the mirror. Without the consummation of the blood pack their powers are
diminished, but they would send what aid they could. The beast lords tell the
magician to look to their champions Balikask and Kalakask to lead the goblin
tribes and return the Dymrak to the domain of night. The beast lords urge the
magician to strike soon as his path is now being thwarted by the will Lords of
Light. With that they fade and Golthar, wailing in anger, departs the
underground chambers in a foaming black comet.
The chamber is left with the
bodies of the two dead acolytes and the smoldering black mirror. The party
smashes the mirror with their weapons and departs, but not before the elf
regains her senses. The elf is on the verge of attacking the party when the
mirror is smashed. She is immediately released from her increasing madness.
Fleeing the lower chambers they find the mare roaming the island and return to
the mainland.
Here the Vyalia elves approach
the successful party again, and suggest freeing the horses from their hobbles.
With the goblin band unaware of what has transpired on the island they could
charm the dire wolves, and give the horses the break they need to flee into the
forest. With the protection of Lorshad being extended to the creatures of the
forest once again the elves feel once released the horses will find themselves
to Loshad and come under his protection. At least they will be free of the
goblins and the stew pot. The elves urge the princess to bring the mare back to
Sukiskyn as soon as possible. One of the Vyalia leads the PC’s safely away from
the lake and on the path to Sukiskyn.
The party makes the journey
back to the steading with only the mare in tow. The journey is uneventful.
There are no further encounter with roving bands of goblins, though signs of
their passing can be found by the sharp eyed ranger.
Pytor is relieved to see the
mare returned in good health. He had already given her and the unborn foal up
for lost. The lack of any of the rest of his herd has him totally despondent
though. He doesn’t see how they will ever recover the lost herd. If the heads
of the were-beasts are truly required to earn the horses release Pytor laments
such a task could be accomplished. The steading has no such weapons of power to
thwart such evil. The idea of melting down silver into weapons is discarded as
impractical as what little silver could be gathered no one on the grounds
possesses the skill to manufacture. It would seem the Tombs on the Hill as
suggested by the Vyalia would be the only known place in which to find
enchanted items.
The party sets out three days
later after the new young stallion is born. They do not now have the luxury of
riding on horseback. Pytor refuses to lend any more to the PC’s. The journey on
foot takes five days as they skirt the edge of the Dymrak forest. This is to
avoid being spotted on the open plains to the north while keeping as much
distance between the party and the goblin horde.
Upon arriving on the rocky
hills where the tombs can be found the party examines the portals on each. They
all appear to be blocked up with a stone door sealed in with mortar. Choosing
the tomb of the warrior they look for traps before chiseling away the old mortar.
The PC’s do not intend to let the terrible visions inflicted by the evil
presence of the tomb turn them away from their labor. Once inside and they
resist the stench of death the PC’s penetrate the length of the tomb and
confront the two weirds. Successfully turning the undead terrors, the cleric
strides forth and claims the silver tipped spear gripped in a statue of human
warrior. This propels the globe wielding fiends at the rest of the party who
have fun engaging the elusive shades. The battle is over quickly though. The
characters combat skills so far have kept them from serious harm. They return
to the outside, and rest for the night.
In the morning they tackle the
next tomb entrance. This one leads them to a crystal coffin containing a mummified
corpse. The presence of the PC’s and the close inspection in which they give
all the frescos is too much for the starved ghoul and it leaps out at the
characters. It is brought down under a flurry of sword strokes leaving the
ghoul in shreds. The crystal coffin is shattered without trouble and the jewel
encrusted mace is taken up by the lusty cleric! Successful incantation of a perceive spell reveals the ancient
weapon has magical properties.
This leaves one more tomb to be
braved. Close inspection reveals an additional entrance from the main. Upon
receiving the seductive and pleasant visions delivered by the unknown
enchantment surrounding the main entrance, the PC’s decide to proceed through the newly discovered secret door
believing it to be the “safer” of the two choices. Once inside the damp, rough
hewn chamber beyond they are immediately set upon by the living statue guardian
inside. The acidic ooze which spills from the creature manages to ruin a spear
and a broadsword before the creature is reduced to a bubbling, caustic pool. Reaching the
finished stone chambers beyond they come across the last weapon in which to
provide the edge they need, the Huntsman’s Knife. An enchanted, silver edged
short sword worn by rangers who fought against the were creatures and demons in
the beast lords dark armies of old. After realizing they had avoided any traps by
entering the tomb from the secret entrance the party retreats back out the way
they came.
Standing once again in the daylight the characters agree to rest and
discuss their next move.
The elf princess will want to
eliminate the were-beasts so as to secure the release of her father’s new
stallion. She holds no illusion that Pytor will not give up the new born
without the return of his livelihood. The cleric would like to inspect the room
in which he retrieved the mace and the mummified remains of the body which held
it. His scientific interest has been piqued. The writing on the mace is
entirely foreign and the mummy had unnatural physiology which he had no time to
examine in any sort of detail. The fighter is concerned for the safety of
Sukiskyn steading and wants to know what to do about the goblin horde at large.
He is extremely anxious to return and see to the homestead’s defenses. The
ranger will want to see the centaur’s task completed as quickly as possible. He
wants to get the princess back to Rifflian as soon as he can. Baby horse or
not.
What does the party do?
And so 7-1/2 hours were spent most pleasantly. Look forward to my next trip back east, maybe a game session once every two years?
The last session was a continuation of coming to grips with the denizens of the Pale Knight's Palace. They had indeed returned to the Aticorn with the 8 threads from the vampire lord’s cloak, and the creature of Faerie did release the party from the peculiar geas laid upon them. But they had left the young Violet behind in the nightmarish palace. None of the warriors could look each other in the eye if they left their potential meal-ticket lost and uncashed. So instead of pushing on to the realative safety of Le Freniae, the party turned around and marched back to the ruined structure which just last night held an alien conclave and was racked by terrible explosions. The daylight did little to relieve the gloom saturating the steep, forest hollow. Once inside they wasted little time plowing to the room of dragon eggs and the broken throne room. The 3 eggs which were left behind last night appear now to be gone. The throne room was appropriately barren, but the unbelievable events which overtook the group last in this room left behind signs of the awful reality which had transpired. 
Clues
wrapped in a dropped communique hinted at deep conspiracy on now a
cosmic scale. But nothing yet seen prepared them for the colossal
marble snake coiled in the center of it’s room of rampage. Not a
hallucinatory dream after all. Stone it was made and still it
breathed and slumbered. Above the beast, as if suspended like an
acrobat, the silvery beauty, the alien and powerful Aladonia floated
like a billowing cloud over the rubble. Her advisory, the grotesque
talking hair-skin thing, was no where in sight. An unoccupied alchemy
lab provided insight on the child-snatching which they were bearing
witness to. Their
bowels turned to water as a closing, suffocating trap threatened a
TPK
and
still no sign of the lovely Violet. Questions dogged their every
step; what with the stealing of children? What was the significance
of multiple dimensions filled with strange beings? And how was all
this going to pay? 
