(Read the previous chapter here.)
System: Tunnels & Trolls
Tools: d30 Sandbox Companion; UNE; LitRPG Reads encounter tables; Fantasy Name Generators; RPGSolo.com
(The above contains Affiliate Links.)
[Scene 1]
“Take That You F--”
“Whoa! It’s me!” Kristopher shuffled back out of his bedroll as fast as he could, one hand helping him scoot across the ground, the other held up, fingers spread, to ward off the magical blast about to be sent his way.
His attacker, Sylralei, sat feet away with hands outstretched, fingers pointed in his direction. Her bedding lay disheveled around her waist. Her startled expression twisted to recognition once she realized who it was she was attacking. The wizardess dropped her hands a breath before finishing the spell.
“What . . . ?” She asked, desperately trying to shake herself awake. “What’s going on?”
“You just woke up,” Kris explained. “You asked me to sleep here, remember? I must have rolled against you, and you were startled.”
The previous night, Syl, feeling especially vulnerable after sharing with Kris the experience that drove her from her home, asked him to sleep near her. Kris complied and, after only a few minutes, heard her deep breathing, indicating she was fast asleep. He considered her lucky, as it often took him some time to wind down from the day and drift off himself. That night, it was especially tough, as Sylralei’s story kept running through his head. The woman who had rescued him from the chains of Frogbeard the Pirate was strong and confident. It surprised him to hear how she felt compelled to prove herself at Cyennanore, and to mere students, at that.
Kris was futher surprised when he suddenly heard the elf begin to speak.
“Peass, I’ll do anythuh,” she slurred. “I’ll do yer shores . . . yer cleanin’. Jus lemme play . . . hide . . . sheek.”
Syl was talking in her sleep. Kris smiled, amused at first, until he began to listen to the words. It sounded like she was reliving her childhood. Even at that age, it sounded like she had to bargain with the other kids for friendship. <What did Syl dream about? Truce/The mundane>
“I’ll hide, peash! I can? I can! Thang oo, thang oo soo mush.”
“Don’t worry,” Kris whispered. “You’ve loved here.” With those words, he shifted in his bedroll and fell asleep . . .
Until he was rudely awakened by strong arms pushing him away and a scared, frantic elf trying to fry him a death spell.
“What’s wrong!” Dalen shouted as he and Nen ran up, weapons drawn. “Are we being attacked?”
“It’s okay,” Kris said. “Syl just got startled.”
Syl flushed as her eyes flashed from Kris to Dalen to Nen. She blinked, then tried to regain her composure.
“I’m fine. I just . . . never mind. Everyone get ready. We can make it to Habrycg by evening if we move out in the next twenty minutes.”
Having given her command, Syl stood and began packing up her bedroll. When no one else moved, she turned back with an order. “Now!”
[Scene 2]
<Based on a 50/50 oracle roll, I determined that the party will reach Habrycg today, provided nothing unusual stops their progress. Using my d30 Companion travel rules, I determined that the group would have an encounter and come across a settlement.>
It was barely thirty minutes after the party broke camp when they came across an outpost. Just off the road stood what looked like a small, wooden fort. The walls were made out of log posts with a double-wide gate opened to the road. Rising above the walls was a wooden sentry tower, a lone guard standing watch. Inside the gates, the party could see several covered areas along the walls, a few sheds, and several tents.
The yard within was occupied by roughly a score of individuals. A handful of them wore leather armor and weapons, most likely guards, but the remaining twelve or thirteen were dressed more appropriately for hunting or labor. On group sat around a fire, watching a small animal being cooked over the flame, but most stood out of the morning sun in the covered areas. The guards appeared to be exclusively human, but the rest were a mix of humans, dwarves, and an elf or two.
“I wish we knew about this last night,” Kris said. “We could have slept here instead of in the wild.”
Several horses were tethered outside the wall, so the group left their animals there before entering the outpost. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by one of the armed <even=F> women.
“Good morning. You hunters? Miners? Or just traveling through?” The question was a friendly inquiry, just someone doing their duty.
“Just travelers, and we don’t plan on staying long. I’m Sylralei, and these are my escort.” Syl introduced the others, and the guard smiled and nodded to each one.
“You asked if we were hunting or mining,” Syl said. “I this some kind of camp?”
“Outpost, really,” the guard explained. “Habrycg is situated between the forest to the west and hills and mountains to the east. It attracts a lot of outsiders interested in both hunting and mining. While it was good for the town at first. But as the place grew more popular and more passers-through came, well, let’s just say they weren’t always the nicest or cleanest bunch. The Habrycgians preferred they were out of the town proper, but not so far away that they couldn’t still profit off the visitors as they came and went. So, about ten years ago, they built this outpost. The miners and hunters stay here when they're not out in the woods or prospecting in the mountains. And if they need supplies, Habrycg is just less than a day’s travel from here. I’m Jia, by the way. If you need anything while you are here, just let me know.”
Sly thanked Jia and then proceeded to tell her about the blocked road back they way they came and the giants along the bypass. The guard thanked her for the information, agreeing to send a patrol out shortly to assess the situation.
Kristopher and Nen went to fill the water skins and see if they could purchase a little food from the group around the fire, just in case they had to spend one more night outside before entering the city.
Meanwhile, Dalen, aught the eye of a group of dwarves sitting under one of the overhangs. Two were <even> male with scraggly beards and dirty clothes. Every now and then, they would cast a quick look over at the party. The third, an equally hardened female dwarf, appeared to be watching him closely. Curious, and always looking for a good story, Dalen walked over to them.
“Greetings from the Peaks,” he said in a typical dwarven greeting. “I’m Dalen. Can’t say I expected to meet a bunch of us on the road.”
The female dwarf stood as he approached, offered him a wide smile and extended hand. “Well Met from the Peaks,” she said with the expected response before introducing herself. “Gilvri. I must say I was equally surprised.”
“How so?”
“The group you came in with.” Gilvri motioned to where Syl and Jia were speaking. “A dwarf travelling with an elf, human, and halfling. That’s not something you see that often.”
Dalen gave out a chuckle. “I guess you’re right. It is a bit unusual. We’re friends, but ours is a working relationship first.”
“How so?” Gilvri asked, genuinely curious.
“Eh, let’s just say do a lot of odd jobs. Right now, we’re escorting the lady to Cyenannore.”
“Oh! The wizard university. Your client wants to be a mage?”
“Oh, Syl’s not our client. She one of us. Our leader, in fact. And she doesn’t want to be a mage . . . I mean she already is . . . it’s complicated.” Dalen stumbled over how much to say. He wanted to be friendly to the other dwarves, but was concerned about saying too much. Kage Gordain tended to guard their true purpose on any mission.
“That must be why you are well armed,” Gilvri commented, eyeing Dalen’s axe. “Protection.”
“It can get rough out there,” Dalen admitted.
Gilvri opened her mouth to speak, but one of her companions broke in.
“Perhaps they can help . . .” he said before Gilvri could shush him.
“Never mind him,” she told Dalen as he looked at them curiously.
“You’re miners, I reckon.”
Gilvri gave him another big grin. “How’d you guess?”
Dalen chuckled. He suspected it was a rhetorical question, but answered anyway. “You’re dwarves. Can’t say I’ve heard of any self-respecting dwarf making his living as a hunter.”
Gilvri gave a hearty laugh back. “That’s true! That’s true! Come sit with us and have a drink. Brom stashed a small keg of dwarven brew. I’m sure we can share a cup with fellow kin.”
She waved at the dwarf who had yet to speak to pour a cup. He returned her command with a dirty look, obviously less than willing to share their beer. He quickly relented when Gilvri cast an equally dirty look back at him.
Dalen checked on his companions before taking a seat at the crude wooden table. “I guess one small drink couldn’t hurt.”
Gilvri grabbed the cup from Brom and placed it in front of Dalen. He took a sip. “Not bad. A bit warm, but that’s to be expected.”
Dalen sensed that Gilvri was deep in thought. She kept looking from the dwarf who said something about “helping them,” to him, and then back.
“Somthin’s on your mind.” Dalen said. “I can tell.”
“Magmus might be right. Maybe you can help us.”
Dalen assumed Magmus was the third dwarf. “Help you with what?”
“We three are miners. You know that. But we’re not just mining anything. A couple of day’s journey from here, just at the foot of the mountains, we found cave that clearly was an old mine, the ore already been extracted. But that didn’t deter us. There’s always some ore or gems left behind, especially if you go far enough into the mountain. Turn’s out we were right. Beyond the last diggin’, about half a mile or so, we found a strain of aughet. Blood Gold.”
Dalen looked at Gilvri with amazement and unbelief. “That can’t be. No one’s mined aughet south of Eyosal. It’s so rare, you’d have to be a King or a thief to own it.”
“It’s true. Here. Look.” She glanced around cautiously before opening a small leather pouch to give Dalen a look inside. It was hard to be sure, but inside was what certainly looked like a tiny chunk of reddish ore.
“I’ll be a beardless chieftain!”
Gilvri closed the pouch. “There’s enough aughet in that cave to set us up for life. There’s only one problem.”
“The critters,” Magmus said before Gilvri could finish.
“Magmus is right. We started chippin’ away at the rock, and it wasn’t long before the bugs came. Giant centipedes, nearly the size of us. We ran and waited for them to leave. We tried again and they came back. It was impossible for us to get any more than a chunk or two, like the one I just showed you.”
“Don’t forget the slugs,” Brom added.
“Oh yeah,” Gilvri continued. “Big, ole cave slugs. They were all over as well. They were slow, but could be just as dangerous if we weren’t careful. We gave up and left, hoping we’d have better luck when the weather cooled down. I know, they are far underground, so what would the weather have to do with it, but frankly, we didn’t know. So we came back a little over a week ago to try again.”
“And?” Dalen asked expectedly.
“We’re sittin’ here, ain’t we?” the female dwarf answered. “No luck. They’re still there. And that’s where I’m wondering if you and your friends can help?”
“How so?”
“You said you do odd jobs. We’re not fighters, but I suspect you and your friends are. Perhaps I could interest you in coming up to the mine and helping us out. Clear out the bugs, or at least keep watch, so when they come you could keep them away? If you do, we’d gladly give you a share of the haul.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Dalen agreed. “But I’ve already told you, we’re escorting Syl. She’s not interested in any delays.”
“Even for this? We’re talking a lot of money!”
“It is, but that’s not her main interest right now. Maybe after this job, on our way back . . . if you could wait that long.”
<The LitRPG Reads encounter roll for this move indicated the party will meet someone who offers the group insights. I randomly determined that someone would be a female dwarf, but more on that later. An additional roll to determine whether or not each character believed the dwarf would be made at an L2 INT SR. A success would mean they were suspicious. For the purposed of this narrative, Dalen failed the roll and believed. Syl was skeptical. Why? Truce/Wishes>
Sylralei approach the table as the group of dwarves were talking.
“Dalen, we’re ready to go.”
“Just a moment. I’m setting up a job. Oh no, not now!” he quickly added when he saw Syl’s look of disapproval. “On our way back. Gilvri and her partners are miners. They discovered a rare strain of ore in the mountains, about a day’s hike from here. They need help clearing out some disrupting critters. Seems easy enough.”
“Lot of miner need help,” Sly said. “What’s so special about this mine that makes it worth it us . . . you?” She corrected, remembering that she wasn’t planning on returning.
Dalen leaned in close to the elf so no one would overhear. “It’s aughet. An apparently large amount, too. Just a few nuggets could bring in more than an average year’s worth of missions.”
Syl threw her head back and laughed, an act out of character for the wizardess. She had heard this story enough times to know the smell of a rodent. I know where there is more treasure than you could ever wish for. Team up with me and I’ll cut you in for a share, they would promise, all the time crossing their fingers behind their backs.
“I’m surprised at you, Dalen. You, of anyone, should know that aughet doesn’t exist this far south.”
“I agree,” said Dalen. “But it’s true. Show ‘er, Gilvri.”
The female miner didn’t appear to appreciate the fact that Dalen was just telling her secret, but reluctantly opened her pouch anyway for Syl to see. Syl peered in and squinted to get a better look. Then, without warning, she thrust her hand into the pouch and pulled out the small bit of rock for a closer look.
“Hey!” Gilvri protested, but Syl ignored her as she examined some reside on her fingers. Picking up the cup that contained the last swallow of Dalen’s beer, she dumped it over the ore. Most of its redness washed away and what was left had a brownish hue.
“This is just a hunk of copper dipped in red dye.” She tossed the rock away. Gilvri stated for it, but stopped, realizing the gig was up.
“C’mon, Dalen. Let’s go. I want to reach Habrycg before nightfall.”
Syl strode to the gate. Dalen mouthing sorry to Gilvri before following after her, though he really didn’t know what he was sorry about.
<The full description of the encounter roll was that the group would meet a Con artist offering dubious insights, yet a discerning eye might filter the falsehoods from valuable truth. I didn’t really care if there was any bit of truth to the dwarf’s tale, just that the group was being conned. Nen also failed his INT check, but I thought the fact that miners were dwarves would have a greater impact on Dalen, a fellow dwarf.
Nen’s first L2 Hidey Hole check happens sometime during all this, but other than noting it was a fail, there is nothing else to add to the narrative.>
[Scene 3]
<Move 12: No features or settlements, but I do roll an encounter. An ambush!>
Gilvri was furious. It was enough that the uppity, self-righteous elf disrupted her progress with that gullible dwarf, but then she decided to talk with that guard on the way out, prompting her to systematically expell Brom, Magmus, and herself from the outpost, warning them not to return. If the elf wants to protect her own interests, that’s her prerogative. But to take away another’s livelihood? That’s unforgivable!
For years, the three of them have traveled from miner camp to miner camp, luring unsuspecting travelers, hunters, or even other miners, to “help” them. On the way to the fictitious mine, Gilvri and her partners would jump the unexpecting individuals, murder them, and take their belongings. The outpost near Habrycg was one of their most profitable locations. Now that was a thing of the past and the elf and her party would have to pay. Gilvri would make sure to get something for the trouble they’d caused.
Shortly after leaving the camp, the murderous dwarves spotted the party up ahead. Gilvri was pretty sure they could be seen, but, if they remained far enough behind, they should not be recognized. Occasionally, Brom would take a swig from the small keg of beer before Gilvri scolded him to put it away. Obediently, he would do as she said. However, whenever he had a chance he would take another swig.
<When rolling up the stats and weapons for the group of dwarves, I asked the oracle if any of the thugs has a missile weapon. One did, but the roll also resulted in a random event: Overindulge/Possessions with a focus on NPC Action. What made sense would be that the dwarf with the bow would be drinking their supply of beer. Missile attacks would be increased by 1 LVL SR (making it harder to hit), and melee attacks would need a successful L2 DEX SR or have the damage reduced by half.>
[Scene 4]
“You see that?” Sylralei asked when the party stopped by a small brook to allow their horses a moment to drink.
Dalen looked back and saw the riders way behind them leave the road and dismount. “That looks like the dwarves from the outpost.”
“Of course they are.”
<Since they were so far behind, the dwarves only needed a L1 LCK SR to sneak up, based on their lowest LCK of 10. 1, 2 = auto fail. Who spots them first? roll: Syl>
Syl “ignored” the group as they edged closer, supposedly concealed the the bushes that lined the road. When they reached earshot, she called out.
“You might as well come out. We know you are there.”
Gilvri and Magmus came out from behind the bushes, each holding a small shield in one hand and a warhammer in the other.
“All of you,” Syl calls. “Yeah, I talking to you behind the bush.”
Magmus, hiding behind the bush and aiming an arrow at the group, looks over the Gilvri for instructions.
“Fire,” Gilvri hisses as she and Magmus charge the group.
<Brom fires. The distance is over 30’, so the DEX SR is L3 + 1L for being inebriated. Target score 35. He rolls 6, 3 +14 DEX =23.>
Brom’s shot fires wide, and the group doesn’t even hear the whizz of the arrow as it passes harmlessly by them. Syl retaliated by casting Take That You Fiend at the bush hiding the bowman. Leaves fly everywhere and dwarf leaps out, having aslo been hit by the spell.
<TTYR typically isn’t stopped by armor, but does require line of sight. Since the line of sight was obscured by the bush, I gave it the normal blocking power of Knight Shield, or 5 points. Brom is down to 4 CON.>
[Round 1]
<2 Dwarves: 10d + 20 adds = 54 (2 sixes) Party: 12d + 46 adds = 84 (2 sixes) >
Gilvri and Magmus reached the party, who had pulled out their weapons and met them head on. The battle is barely worth the time it took the dwarves to run from the bushes. Magmus is cut down after barely knicking Kris, and Gilvri limps back after taking a hard blow from Dalen’s axe. A bit wiser from the blow, she turns to run. Brom, only halfway to the battle, sees his leader retreat and turns as well. <Both dwarves failed morale checks of 6 (8-2 for weakened and overpowered>
“My Wish, Your Command!” Sylralei speaks the words of the controlling spell, her focus on Gilvri’s. The female dwarf stopped, turned, and waited patiently for her orders. <Syl obviously wins the roll, 5 to 1> “I order you to chase your friend down. When you catch him, give him a good thrashing. Don’t stop till he can barely walk. Then return to the outpost, turn yourselves in, and tell them everything you’ve done.”
Gilvri waited a moment to be sure Sylralei was done before turning and sprinting back to her horse to chase after Brom, who, by now, was hundreds of feet down the road.
The party searched Magmus, who lay dead in the road. They found a little over 100 gold pieces in his pouch and divided it among themselves. Dalen decided to keep his warhammer. Finally, they rolled the body off the road and continued on their way.
<I rounded up the AP to an even 100 and divided it equally among the party.>
[Scene 5]
<Nothing significant happened during moves 13 and 14. No settlements. No features of any note to the story. There were a couple of encounters, both benign, which I will breeze past in the narrative.>
As the party travelled closer to the town, they began to see intermittent signs of civilization, which basically were the occasional homestead. Tucked back off the road, every so often the group spot a small house or modest building, homes to those few people who wanted to be near the city but not within. Some had gardens. Others a small stable with livestock. Erected next to a path leading off the main road was a wooden sign that read “Traps,” apparently someone trying to sell to the hunters who passed by on the way to the outpost. Some of the more interesting sights were a couple of elderly gentlemen sitting on a log, waving at anyone who passed by, and a group of young “adventurers” fighting a dragon only they could see with stick swords and made up spells.
Much of this was lost on Nen, who was focused on his studies. He rode next to Syl, hoping for even more advice.
“You’ll get it,” she said after Nen let out a deep sigh of frustration. <He failed is 2nd L2 INT SR with a 20> “Though I can’t understand why she would choose to teach you Hidey Hole before teaching you something more useful, like Poor Baby.”
“She had her reasons,” Nen said, remembering the leprechaun’s kind gesture.
“Perhaps, but I have been thinking. With me leaving, the group does need another healer. And since you are our only other wizard, I guess that leaves it to you.”
Nen looked at Syl curiously. The elf was right, he didn’t know any healing spells. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you start learning, Poor Baby!”
As Fiddlestix had done with Hidey Hole, Syl instructed Nen on the mental process and vocal inflections needed to cast the healing spell. The halfling listened intently, but when it was his turn to try, spit stuck in his throat and all he could do was cough. <Poor Baby is a level 2 spell, so with +2 (1 per my house rules, 1 level difference between Nen and the spell, see note at the end of the chapter) that means Nen will need to make a L4 INT SR to learn. 1, 3 auto fail.
Now that he is learning two spells, even with help, Nen only gets one attempt at each per day.>
While Nen continues to practice his own spells, he notices Syl thinking intensely and whispering words which sound very familiar to the Hidey Hole spell. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Practicing Hidey Hole?” she replied. “I told you I don’t already know it.”
Nen was confused. “But we’ve been on the road. Where’d you learn it?”
Syl smiles, amused at the halfling’s naivety. “From you, of course. I’ve been working with you these last couple of days. It’s only to be expected that I should be able to pick up the essence and figure it out myself. Especially growing up in the University of Magic. Think of it as you teaching me to cast a spell.”
Nen smiled back, feeling a sense of pride.
<Yeah, but how did she do? For all the reasons mentioned above, I felt it was only natural Syl would be able to interpolate the spell from working with Nen. I was originally going to increase her necessary SR level by 1 to account for the fact that she wasn’t exposed to the actual teaching of the spell. However, since she’s been working with Nen a couple of days and she has a rich magic upbringing, I decided to forgo that penalty and just make it a normal practice sequence. So, she needs to make a L3 INT SR . Target: 30 Roll: 5,3 + 16 INT = 24 Fail - Has 4 more attempts at SR3>
[Scene 6]
<The party will finally make it to Habrycg on move 15. No features. No need to roll on settlement as they are already approaching the town. Encounter gives hostile, which I interpret as they meet the city guards (6). A roll on my reaction table determines how they greet the party. Roll: Attack, No Quarter. So, they're not very friendly, but this seems extreme for city guards without benign provoked, so I’ll adjust it as revealed in the following narrative.>
Tired and weary, the four finally turned a corner to see the well-maintained wooden walls of the city of Habrycg. What they could see, at least. The sun had gone down behind the trees nearly an hour ago, and the last glow of its light had faded to blackness. The gates were already closed. All was dark except for the areas that were aglow by firelight, whether it came from a lantern, torch in a sconce, or small campfire outside the wall.
From the direction of a small campfire near the gate rode a group of six soldiers to meet them. Not an entire troop by any means, but certainly more than would be expected for a routine city guard.
“Halt,” the leader called out. “What business do you have in Habrycg this time of night?”
Dalen urged his horse forward to address the captain. A quick scan confirmed that at least five of them wore what appeared to be official crests on their surcotes. The sixth looked less like a guard and more like a civilian dressed in robes. The dwarf supposed this person was a wizard, assigned to the wall in case there was any need of magic to deal with people trying to enter the city.
“Good evening. My friends and I have been travelling long today, and we simply want lodging for the night. Perhaps stay a couple of days to rest before moving on.” <L3 CHR SR to convince guards to let them in: 6, 4 + 9 CHR = 19. Fail
Checked UNE for guard’s response: Inquisitive - Interest - PCs Contacts>
“Gates are closed for the night,” the guard explained. “No one passes unless the have documentation, offering good reason.”
Dalen looked curiously at the solidiers. “Is something going on? Trouble or such? Six guards seem much, especially for travelers like us just looking for a place to rest.”
“So you say,” said one of the <odd> female guards.
“What she means,” the leader interrupted, “Is that we have strict orders from the town council to ensure that everyone coming and going are who they say they are. And that’s much more difficult at night, so the rule is simply not to let anyone in.” <Why? Control/The Mundane>
“Again,” Dalen said. “Sounds like you are expecting trouble.”
“The council just want to be safe,” the leader said.
“You could be thieves!” The female guard added, flaunting an air of superiority. “Or spies from another kingdom. Escaped criminals. You think we just let anybody in?”
Tired of the woman’s rantings, Syl approached to try and reason with the guards. As she did, some of the guards, as well as the wizard, stiffened in readiness.
“Enough of this!” she said. “We have no plans to over run your city.” Syl cast the female guard a reprimanding look. “We not some team of assassins come to murder your king.”
“We don’t have a ki--”
“I get it!” Syl cut off the female guard. “It’s your first week on the job, and you want to make a good impression. Now, just stop talking.” The guard shrunk back, chastened, as though Sylralei was a bit too close to the truth. Turning back to the lead guard, the elf continued. “We’re tired. We’re hungry. We want to get cleaned up. Just let us in.”
<Syl’s attempt L3 CHR SR: 4, 2 + 20 = 25. Fail, but with a L2, I’ll say the guards will accept a bribe.>
The guard reassessed Syl, looking her up and down. He admired her boldness in challenging his colleague, but also felt the group’s desperation. Putting on a disarming smile, he proposed another option.
“I’m sorry if I might have given you the wrong impression. When I said we needed documentation giving us good reason to allow you entry, I didn’t mean to imply it must be an official, sealed proclamation written by a duke or chancellor. Anything solid would do. Even something of your own.”
The guard and Syl exchanged a look of understanding.
“How much ‘documentation’ would you need?”
“Why don’t you show me, and I’ll determine if it’s acceptable.”
<Do they take the bribe? <50/50> S: No K: No D: Yes N: No>
Syl led the group a few feet away and whispered, “They're asking for a bribe. I don’t believe there is any threat of danger. I think they just like pushing their weight around.”
“But if it gets us inside,” Dalen pleads.
“Let’s not be so quick to give in,” Kris counters, as both Syl and Nen nod. “We can spend one more night out here. I agree, I was hoping for something more comfortable, but I know these types. They’ll take the money now, but give us no lenience in the future, and gladly take more if they can. Hopefully, in the morning, with daylight and different guards, we will have better luck.”
The four searched each other for their unspoken decision. Eventually, Syl just motioned toward a space away from the gates and turned to leave.
“Thanks,” Kris said to the guards. “We’ve grown accustomed to sleeping on the ground.” He turned to follow the rest of the group.
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<Tev’s Note: Whew! These last three chapters (and long chapters they were) were the result of a “single play session”. While in reality, a game session may extend over several of my real time opportunities to play, I try to end a session (based on notes) at roughly the length of one chapter of narrative. Obviously, my estimation was way off this time. (To be fair, I did add big sections of narrative that either didn’t exist in my actual play, or were extrapolated from a few dice rolls and a quick descriptive note.
But that’s not really what I want to mention here. I want to talk about my solo house rules regarding learning spells. My original formula determined the necessary SR as spell level+1+difference between player and spell levels. But as I thought about it more, this doesn’t really make sense. In this scenario, a theoretic 10th level wizard attempting to learn a 2nd level spell would start the equation with a 10th level SR. Sure, the roll would be reduced when you subtract the player/spell levels, but a more experienced wizard should learn lower level spells much easier. More realistically, I felt basing the starting SR off the level of the spell made much more sense. Using my example above, this would change the original INT SR from L3 (which isn’t bad, but seemingly a bit high for a wizard trying to learn a spell 8 levels below their experience) to a -5 SR. Basically, unless they roll a critical fail, they learn the spell, which makes sense, at least to me.
In this game, Nen benefited in that his SR for the Hidey Hole Spell would have increased by 1 if I used this new system. Poor Baby was determined using this new system and Syl’s would remain the same, as both her and the spell’s level are the same.>
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Prov. 14:12
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