TOPIC: R4: 13th Age - Adventurer to Champion and beyond!

With the tower defeated we rested and left early the next morning.

“Which way shall we go home” asked Karl silently hoping we would say the quickest and go back through the Blasted Wastes.

“We’ve already done the Blasted Wastes, why don’t we go the other way and give them Minotaur’s a really good thumping” Said Rasmus whilst rubbing the back of Brian’s head.

“Sounds like a plan, and we may never get Karl back out of the Wastes he loved it there.” I say.

“You sure that’s the way you want to go, I’ve heard the Blasted Wastes are lovely this time of year” says Karl who has lost his Scottish accent and now has a West Somerset one.

“It was only a couple of days ago, so no we’ll go this way thank you very much” I tell him. We walk about 100 yards and a very obvious red light is blinking on Chronos my clockwork friend.

“Er should that light be blinking, Gandolt” asks Brian

“Of course, it’s a blinking light that’s what it does, if it did anything else I’d be worried.” I explain.

“But a red blinking light is that a good sign?” asks Hurl.

“When has a red blinking light never been a good sign? Tell me that”

“I think it has a button on it!” says an excited Karl.

“Don’t touch it” shouts Brian, a moment too late, but it’s the thought that counts. A flash of light goes off and Mr Goldman appears.

“Of course your supposed to touch it otherwise how would the homing beacon work” he says.

“Yeah!” I agree readily.

“You didn’t know what it did!!!” exclaims Rasmus.

“Did too” I say

“Then why did you let Karl press it and you didn’t, tell me that then” asks Rasmus.

“Yeah tell us” says a petulant Brian, who is going through an annoying phase of agreeing everything Rasmus says.

“You can see I am slung in a papoose, and I am a Homunculus, how I am supposed to reach that. Pick on the handicapped why don’t you!” I reply curtly.

“As fascinating as this is gentleman, I have another job for you.” Says Mr Goldman.

“That was quick, and we haven’t even been paid for the last one yet!” says Karl. Mr Goldman puts his hands in his pocket and produces five leather purses, and throws them to us. We all catch them except Karl, whose use of an eye patch means he has lost his depth perception and hit hits him squarely in the face.

“OW!!!”

“Sorry, your fifty gold each as promised”

“ We have this for you” I say “Karl can you pass Strens the crown, I can’t get to my backpack.” Karl retrieves the crown wrapped in the silk robe.

“Catch” he says but once again his lack of depth perception means he throws it short and it lands on the floor in front of Mr Goldman. The question is did he do that on purpose. Un-phased Mr Goldman bends down unwraps the crown and says.

“Nasty” and clicks his fingers and the crown melts.

“That, may have been valuable!!” cries Hurl.

“Now you tell me!! Only joking only a most horrible death could be found with that particular item, shall we crack on?” asks Mr Goldman.

“You haven’t explained what it is yet or what we are getting paid to do it, please enlighten us.” I say

“It is a small matter, the Orc Lord has heard one of the Orc Generals has amassed her army and is marching on the Dwarves and is attempting to bring about the end of this the thirteenth age. He wants you to kill the General, and thereby eliminating the threat. A small matter a mere trifle for heroes such as yourselves, in fact I don’t even know why I brought it to you. I maybe able to find a group of small children to carry out this task.”

Our mouths are agape, “This is suicide, kill an Orc General traveling in her army, a General who thinks they can end an age is not someone to tangle with.” I say

“I’ll do it” says Karl.

“Me too” says Hurl. “I haven’t been hired to kill someone for a while now.”

“Sounds like a caper.” Says Rasmus.

“If Rasmus is going so am I” says Brian.

“Only you then Gandolt, of course if you don’t think you are up to the task. I can find another mage to take your place”

“Let’s not be so hasty there, I never said I wouldn’t do it. I just meant that they wouldn’t be a push over. Nothing compared to my powers though, this should be a walk in the park,” I say.

“Good, glad that’s settled then. If you would all be so kind as to touch my staff” Karl and Hurl start sniggering. “Oh dear, look it is an actual staff, I didn’t mean…”

“We know what you didn’t mean, its just being around the King of Camp kinda makes you quick on a innuendo.” I explain. We all touch the staff and the world becomes smaller as we implode on one another and swirl around, we travel through a swirling vortex. I could have sworn I saw a blue box with the word “Police” written on it. We arrive by on the slope of a natural valley.

“So what’s the plan then.” Asks Karl.

“We could go for a full frontal assault” says Rasmus and for once Brian doesn’t announce his agreement.

“Sounds like a plan, let me at ‘em. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” and we watch Karl running down the road with his axe in both hands over his head.

“Can’t fault his enthusiasm” I say.

“You certainly can’t. Shouldn’t one of you go and get him?” asks Mr Goldman.

“Is he heading in the right direction?” asks Hurl.

“Nope they are coming from the other way” says Mr Goldman.

“In that case he’ll come back when he is tired” says Rasmus. “What would you suggest Strens?” Mr Goldman looks at the disappearing figure of Karl and shakes his head.

“And you cleared out that tower, it makes the mind boggle” he says to no one in particular. “I would suggest heading off in that direction, telling the Halfling village of their possible impending doom”

“Let’s poison their water supply and set fire to their homes!!!” exclaims an excited Brian.

“You are supposed to be heroes and save them. You know heroes save the innocent and weak,” says an incredulous Mr Goldman.

“I am saving them, poisoning the water supply means they have no water to drink, so have to find somewhere else to live. And as an additional incentive to go we set fire to their homes so they have nowhere to live and nothing to stay for other than a poisoned well. And lets face it who would want that.” Explains Brian.

“If it helps, in a previous life he was called “Bastard Jack”” I tell Mr Goldman.

“Er no not really, and he is a Cleric?” Says Mr Goldman.

“Not a good one” offers Hurl

“A man of the people” continues Mr Goldman.

“Yup he likes people, he likes to make people dead and then incinerate them with his powers of light should they come back as undead.” Says Rasmus.

A huffing and puffing noise is growing in volume.

“Kill all the little halflings, what have I done, the General may spare them if the heroes don’t kill them first. What kind of people did I hire, they seemed so nice before.”

“To……huff, gasp, put …… gasp, it into, huff…… gasp…..perspective………we ….huff wouldn’t …….let him…….do…..huff, gasp that” says Karl bent over with his hands on his knees.

“Karl’s right we wouldn’t let him do that, we don’t even carry poison incase of such a situation.”

“That’s very reassuring, you don’t carry poison incase your Cleric wants to poison an entire village. A precautionary measure few would consider!!” says Mr Goldman flabbergasted.

“Just….. to make ……. Sure……. Brian…….was talking……..about………poisoning the well.” Gasps Karl.

“Yup, get your breath back mate, how far did you go?” I ask.

“Hang on” Karl breathes deeply and gets his composure back.

“These legs don’t look it, but they can’t half get a shuffty on. It was all down hill so I was really motoring when I realised, I hadn’t got a clue if I was going the right way or not. You were wise not to follow me,” explains Karl.

“Yes, well this is an insight into your working methods I didn’t actually need. I can see you have it all under control, I’ll just toddle off” POOF and Mr Goldman has gone.

We walk into the Halfling village,
“Morning, yes Morning, good Morning to you too Madam. Morning yes,good Morning. Morning to you too, Morning, it is a pleasant day isn’t it. I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCMENT, yes good Morning, AN ORC ARMY, Morning, ORC ARMY IS MARCHING THIS WAY AND A HORRIBLE DEATH AWAITS YOU ALL!!” Shouts Rasmus. The resulting panic, confusion and running about I think they got the message. Exasperated I go to the Inn for a drink, this place is great everything is the right size for me, even the ale comes in sensible sized cups, Brian joins me.

“He has caused mass panic and confusion” he tells me.
“No sugar coating there was there, straight to the point, good speech really” I say.

Some halflings enter the pub.

“Can’t what all the fuss is about if some Ducks, but that accent made it sound like Dorks, are coming to some harm. I personally like them with plum sauce.”

“Excuse me my friend, but I think you have the classic case of mishearing. What he said was not some Ducks are coming to some harm. He said with out an accent ORC ARMY” they hear this news process it for a few seconds and run about wildly one even amusingly into the wall knocking himself out.

“Priceless” says Brian. We hear screams.

“Can’t be you making them scream.” I pick up my flagon of ale and walk outside, joined by Brian who has hung chicken legs off the cross guard of his great sword. We arrive just in time to see a Halfling head rolling down the road, followed by what looks like ogres in red suits.

“Don’t see that everyday.” Says Brian. We watch Rasmus run at them followed by Karl and Hurl.

“You don’t do you, do you think he’s got this” I ask

“I reckon so” says Brian.

“They look quite nasty, I’m going to help.” And I cast ray of frost, it doesn’t do much but is does state our intention. These demon-possessed ogres are no walk in the park. Two close on Rasmus, one on Hurl another one on Karl and two attack Brian. The battle is swinging from one side to the other when Rasmus drops, and one appears behind me and stabs me in the back with a flaming spear setting me on fire. I cast Force Salvo at five of them but not the one behind me, they roar but carry on fighting, Brian has cast some magic as Rasmus is back on his feet, but is quickly put down again. I turn to the one attempting to strike me and say, “Listen here you, I haven’t attacked you, in general I am ignoring you, but if you make me spill this I will be most displeased” This seems to have the opposite effect and infuriate him even more. Karl drops his and closes in on the two who just dropped Rasmus again. The one behind me swings and misses.

“Right, I’ve had just about enough of this. You will go down in song as the sorry creature that couldn’t put a wizard down, who was ignoring you. Have another go” he does and hits me with a spear setting me on fire once more, I cast Fireball and kill three of them instantly, leaving the one behind me and one fighting Karl and the downed Rasmus. Hurl comes to my aid and strikes the one behind me and for a change Hurl doesn’t run off after he hit him, he remained there by my side. I cast Crescendo blowing the orge back and killing him at the same time. Karl kills the last one.

This unexpected encounter has helped to make the halflings minds up to leave.

We wave them goodbye and I test out one of the beds, it is so nice to go somewhere where everything is the right size.

In the morning we head off in search of the army, Rasmus notices some smoke riding high into the sky, it is such a long way off we have miles to go. We approach a bridge and Karl says.

“That’s a dwarven bridge, and the only one round for miles the army will have to come this way to get through.”

“We could blow up the bridge when the general is on it” says Brian.

“No we couldn’t, A we don’t have any explosives, B half of the army would be on the same side as us and I don’t think we can fight half an army.” I say

“Better than a whole army” cries Brian.

“Marginally” says Karl

“How many can fit over the bridge at one time Rasmus” I ask. He wlks half way to where it is narrowest and says,

“Two” just as a large troll appears.

“Get off my bridge, if you want to use my bridge you have to pay a toll”

“It’s not your bridge” says Karl, “It is a dwarven bridge”

“That’s as maybe but it mine now” replies the troll.

“It may interest you to know an orc army is heading this way to use this very bridge.” Says Rasmus.

“I know. They’ve already paid me in Goat no less. Now you can turn round and go back or you can pay to cross,” Rasmus returns. We enter into a huddle, and Brian comes back from behind a tree, and walks out onto the bridge and the troll re-appears.

“You may like to know an orc army is heading this way” says Brian.

“I know, your friend already told me and I also know as the orc army have already paid me. Pay up or piss off” says the Troll a little aggravated at having to cover the same ground again.

“Sorry I missed that bit” says Brian. He returns to us.

“Happy now Brian,” says Hurl.

“Sorry I didn’t know” replies Brian.

“We’ll put that on your gravestone, which if you carry on like this you will be here sooner rather than later” I tell him.

“Do we have a plan?” asks Karl.

“Not yet” says Rasmus.

“Okay, how about…” and Karl runs at the troll with his axe over his head.

“He seems to be enjoying this tactic” says Hurl. The troll swipes twice at Karl wounding him with one hit but the other misses, but Karl misses the troll due to the wind being knocked out of him. Hurl leaps in hits the toll and makes space for Rasmus, a whole load of kobolds appear on the other side of the bridge and fire arrows from short bows at us. I return fire with magic missile, I hit but do very little damage. Rasmus and Karl put the troll down quickly and engage the kobolds.

The battle is short and swift.

The bridge is now troll free and we still don’t have a plan.

To be continued.

Sigh. It was once I am never going to escape that decision am I , good write up as always

The Journal of Karl Dreghorn (Level 4 Dwarven Barbarian)

Day 7 (cont): While I scrubbed the minotaur blood of the edge off my axe, Gandolt began rummaging through the monster's treasure. He held out a fine elven cloak. It was a bit girly for us rough & tumble adventuring types, but looked like it might suit the wood elf. Suddenly, I felt a tremendous sneeze coming on and blew my nose noisily into the cloak. After that, Hurl didn't want it so much.

Rasmus claimed a splendid shield embossed with the emblem of the Great Gold Wyrm. Strangely, possession of the shield caused him to start acting overly familiar with everyone; lots of group hugs and comradely butt slapping.

“Come near my arse and I’ll cut off your fecking hand!” I warned him.

Merveer found a helmet that caused him to start singing rousing battle hymns.

"I don't care if you've got the eye of the tiger!" I growled, "Shut your hole or I'll give you a black eye to go with it!"

- - -

We continued climbing and finally reached the top of the wizard's tower. If he's so powerful, why couldn't this Archmage character magic up a lift or something? Bastard.

The center of the final room was dominated by a roiling blue nexus, unstable arcs of arcane energy snapped, crackled and popped. I had no fecking idea what it was, but Gandolt warned us not to cross the beams. Just being near the thing caused my scalp to prickle and my beard to stand on end. Hurl looked like he might be about to laugh, but I glowered at him hard enough to make him reconsider.

Merveer edged around the wall and called out when he came across a shallow depression in the stone. Acting on a hunch, he inserted the talisman we'd been given by the Golden Man into the hole. Immediately, the entire tower began to shake alarmingly and we all heard the sound of heavy stones shifting far below us. I bellowed a wordless cry of rage, fully expecting the entire tower to collapse and bury us all under the crushing weight of rubble - but after a few harrowing moments, the shaking stopped and I accepted with mild displeasure that I would not die today.

Suddenly, that bastard ogre mage reappeared behind us. Whatever Merveer had just done had tweaked his beard something fierce! Plus, he had a little gang of kobolds to back him up and they didn't look much merrier. Fighting around those blue energy beams was a real pain in the arse. I saw Rasmus knock a kobold back with his shield, it tripped and fell into one of the beams and cut itself clean in half! After we'd killed most of his mates, the ogre mage vanished again - the cowardly prick!

- - -

Gandolt suggested that we rest up while he memorised some new spells out of that huge book he carries around with him, but the rest of us were eager to be done with this job and catch up with the ogre mage before he could prepare any further surprises for us.

We returned to the ground floor and discovered that a secret entrance had opened up in the floor, revealing a route down into the sea caves beneath the tower.

"Now it is the burglar's turn," Rasmus said, nodding to Hurl "You must go on and find out all about this cave and what it is for and if all is pefectly safe and canny. Now scuttle off and come back quick if all is well. If not - come back if you can."

"Hold on, why me?" the wood elf whined.

"Because you're the fecking burglar!" I roared, throwing him down the staircase.

THUMP! BUMP! CLUMP! THUMP! BUMP! CLUMP!

After a while, Hurl indicated that the cave was clear and we should all follow him down into the dark. Gandolt cast a spell that caused Merveer's head to glow like a torch. He looked much like one of the jack-o-lanterns that human children carve from pumpkins to keep evil spirits away. Nevertheless, I stuck close to the cleric, preferring his conversation to the company of shadows.

The cavern below was stacked with coffins. The stench of rot lingered in the air, mixing unpleasantly with the briny stench of the sea.

"Where did they all come from?" Merveer asked, looking aghast, "And where are the bodies that they must have contained?"

"I imagine we'll find out soon enough." Rasmus replied grimly, as a great moaning and shuffling could be heard approaching from all directions.

A countless horde of zombies had managed to surround us as we nattered like old women around a wash baisin! We fought hard - but for every one we cut down, another two shuffled forward to take its place. Two hulking, grey-skinned figures in tattered robes seemed to be co-ordinating the undead assault from the back of the crowd. Rasmus began cutting a bloody path through the zombies and the rest of us followed in his wake along a road paved with severed limbs and slick with grave slime. Rasmus cut down the first grey shepherd and I buried my axe in the second's face. Suddenly bereft of command, the remaining zombies were easily destroyed by Merveer's righteous fury and Gandolt's powerful magic. Hurl might have killed a few too, I suppose.

- - -

We continued to explore the caves and passed a bubbling lake of black tar. I warned the others to keep their torches clear of the fumes, lest some clumsy fool (here I glared at Hurl) blow us all into the Abyss.

Eventually, we reached the threshold of a great, sunken temple. A sinister, skull-encrusted altar bore the markings of the Lich King, set upon the top of which was an evil looking crown of black iron.

"Well, that explains all the zombies." Gandolt declared, with the air of someone who had just made some great academic discovery.

Either the altar or the crown - or probably both, were radiating waves of blackest sorcery. We approached warily and the unholy shrine's guardians made themselves known.

"Third time pays for all!" cackled the ogre mage as he reappeared between us and the altar. This time he was accompanied by a tall, thin woman whose bone-white skin was riddled with cracks, like a broken plate glued back together again. She held a staff topped with an evil looking black crystal and wasted no time swinging said stick at Merveer's glowing head. Merveer has a pretty thick skull, so I wasn't too worried for him. Rasmus and I concentrated on taking out the ogre mage. He was surprisingly puny and didn't last long. While Rasmus turned to help against the demon wench, I busied myself prising the gemstone from the dead ogre's skull. To my outrage, the seemingly priceless stone melted into sludge the moment I forced it loose, leaving a foul residue all over my palm. I wiped it on the back of Hurl's coat as he cowered behind the altar.

I heard a despairing wail and saw that Merveer had driven his blessed longsword through his opponent's breast. She was torn from existence like the pages from a book left too close to the crapper after the bog roll has run out.

Having defeated the temple's guardians, I reached for the crown. When I woke up, Gandolt told me how I had been blasted across the room by a psychic explosion the moment my grubby dwarven fingertips brushed the cursed headpiece.

"You're lucky that your head didn't explode, your reckless twat."

"What good is a hat that makes your head explode when you put it on?" I grumbled, staggering to my feet, "I say we throw the bastard thing in the tar pits and be done with it."

"No," decided Rasmus, using the ogre's discarded staff to gingerly hook the crown and drop it into his pack without having to touch it, "We'll take it to the Golden Man. He will know how to destroy it permanently."

Hey! We did have a plan, it just turned out to be shite and impossible to implement.

(Sorry about that. For some reason, playing a barbarian makes me want to cuss like a sailor).

The Journal of Karl Dreghorn (level 4.5 Dwarven Barbarian)

Day 8: Once we had removed the cursed crown from the equally cursed altar, the flow of magic to the tower above was restored, or at least that's what Gandolt assured us. Job well done, I reckon. We left the caves without encountering any more zombies, although I could not shake the feeling that the regard of some watchful malevolence had fallen upon us. Whatever it is that we've achieved here has not gone unnoticed by the powers that be. Whether this will come to weal or woe I cannot say.

Rasmus produced a map and began plotting our return journey. I argued that we should cut across the Blasted Wastes but my companions had all had their fill of that ashen desert. Ultimately, the discussion proved to be a waste of breath, as the Golden Man appeared amongst us with the details of our next task. Apparently, the mechanical man that Gandolt commands is fitted with some manner of beacon that allows our patron to track and observe our movements. I mislike the notion of being watched in such a manner, but can envision no means of stopping him doing it.

Rasmus handed over the crown. The Golden Man unwrapped the bundle, uneffected by the evil spells woven into the very metal. I recalled with painful clarity what had happened when I touched the cursed thing and took a step backwards.

"How much is that thing worth?" Hurl asked, rubbing his palms together at the prospect of further profit.

"An object such as this would only have value to the most wicked of men," the Golden Man sighed. He focused his will and melted the crown into slag. "Yet you were promised a reward for restoring the tower's defenses."

He tossed each of us a pouch bulging with golden coins. Not that we would have the opportunity to spend any of it....

"An orcish horde (30,000 strong!) is descending upon the realm of the Dwarven King," our patron explained, "They are led by a general of uncanny charisma and ferocity. The Orclord himself grows concerned that this general will soon challenge his right to rule the Orclands, yet he cannot move against her openly. You are tasked with assassinating this orc general and ending her campaign before she gains any more popularity."

"But the Orclands are far to the north!" Merveer protested, "It will take many weeks to travel there, by which time the war could well be over."

"Never mind that, I will transport you there with my magic."

"Hey, hold on just a minute!" I objected, but the Golden Man wasn't listening. He waved his staff and - FOOM! I felt a sickening lurch in the pit of my stomach as the landscape around me blurred. As the scenery settled, I realised that we had travelled over 500 miles in less time that it would have taken to saddle a horse. Further more, I recognised these lands; this was the dwarven kingdom where I had been born! To the north lay the barren and inhospitable Orclands, to the south stood the fortified dwarven capital, where my great uncle the Dwarf King sat upon his iron throne. Some miles away, smoke rose from a small halfling village nestled amongst gently sloping hills.

"Perhaps we had best warn the locals of their impending doom?" Merveer suggested.

"Sounds like fun!" I chuckled.

- - -

The halflings did not take the news well. Perhaps it would have been better coming from Rasmus? Ah well, my blunt words got them moving. Suddenly, we heard screams from the other end of the settlement. A band of demonic ogres wielding flaming spears were attacking the town! We defeated the brutes, but Rasmus was grievously wounded in the fighting.

- - -

Day 9: We spent the night in the abandoned village, while the halfling refugees fled south. In the morning, Hurl spotted smoke on the horizon and we headed north to get our first good look at the orcish host. Soon, we came upon an old toll bridge spanning a deep gorge. Icy water churned at frothed far below the lip of the crevasse. We started across, but were accosted by a hideous troll that had made its lair beneath the bridge. The monster forbade us passage, having already accepted a generous tribute of goats from the orcs.

The troll had little interest in our gold, so we were forced to draw our steel. As we fought the beast, a party of orc scouts appeared and began raining arrows down upon the bridge. Fortunately, the troll's bulk provided ample cover and most of the arrows hit it instead of us! After killing the troll, we made short work of the orcs and I began stacking their corpses in the middle of the bridge, building a crude barrier from behind which I could hold off the rest of the advancing army single-handed. The rest of the group weren't too keen on that plan, calling it "moronic" and "suicidal". What did I do to get stuck with such a bunch of snivelling pansies?!

Excellent write-ups Gentlemen

Have an Advantage dice for next session!