[DnD] Crusader (GFF D&D Adventure 2)

With a roar, the big chap kicked off the seemingly inevitable fight, hurling the shapeshifter to the floor. I moved to the south, hoping to distance myself from any melee combat, hurling an ice ray at the big goblin thing, hoping to slow it's advance.

Move south three squares, Ray of Frost at Bugbear

There's nowhere I can't reach.

The Horde skillfully launched into battle plan A, also known as all gang up on the leader and hit them as hard as possible until they die. I was still fatigued from our earlier battle and wouldn't be able to use my more powerful magiks without a longer rest. The shapeshifter was staggering under the onslaught of the warriors and I had another go at using my new ice spell, hoping to actually hit something with it this time.

Icy Rays on Doppelganger and Halfling (I can't remember if there's a range limit for the second target, if there is and the halfling is too far away I'll go for the Bugbear instead)

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

"Aha", I cried as the frost spread across the corpse of the doppelganger, "Why don't you just chill out?".

I chuckled to myself, rather pleased with my sharp tongue and quick wit.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

It seemed our fearless dwarf was not the only of his kind with a penchant for destroying buildings. Knowing that it was safest to stay low in the event of a building collapse, I crawled away into the corner, hoping that the beams there would be rather stronger than the roof in the middle of the room. Seeing that the big monster was no fan of being on fire, I compounded it's misery with a burst of eldritch flame.

Crawl as far south and west as the building and my move rate allows. Flame Burst one square west of Bugbear

I was speaking idiomatically.

Having reached what I hoped to be the relative safety of the corner, I got to my feet and dusted myself down. The shambling bear-thing had been swiftly put down by the others and I suspected the small child with the crossbow would not be breathing for much longer. No, it was clear to me that the real threat here was the dwarf and his almost arcane powers (They weren't arcane of course, who ever heard of a dwarf that could use magic?).

I was drained from the day's endeavours and unable to focus my mind sufficiently to use any of my really impressive spells so I resorted to my elven heritage. I dropped my staff and unslung my bow and notched an arrow in one smooth motion. Lining up the dwarf through the crosshairs drawn on my goggles, I released the string and sent a deadly arrow whistling through the air towards the stumpy creature.

Stand up, drop staff, draw bow, shoot Duergar, whistle (Everything I Do) I Do It For You

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My first shot at the dwarf, meant only as a marker had landed exactly where I wanted it, about a foot to the left of the target. I was about to unleash a second, a killing blow to the temple, when the child came bursting out of the swirling melee and ran over towards me. I had little experience of dealing with children so I dealt with this hyperactive youngling the same way my mother had disciplined me, with a solid punch to the face.

Punch Iggy; in the face

FELIPE NO

The child was coming around and I fancied that he might know something of who was after us (This time). I crouched down in front of him and in my best and friendliest asking how a small child is feeling voice, I asked him how he was feeling and apologised for punching him in the face. And throwing ice rays at him. And killing all his friends.

Diplomacy skill in the house, get Iggy on-side, make him like us and be inclined to tell us stuff

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The clever dwarf started mumbling about something to the others. I still couldn't understand a word he was saying of course but I had the distinct impression he was trying to teach the others about the history of this small child's family or something.

Aid Mots' history check

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I looked the child up and down, hoping to notice some form of religious symbol or other outward sign of faith, so we might appeal to his spiritual side in an attempt to get some information out of him.

Religion check

How ya doing, buddy?

It seemed as though our business here was done and I suddenly realised just how tired I was. I gathered up my pack and suggested to the others that now might be a really good time to go back to the inn and get some sleep. Hopefully finding a route that would avoid too many mugging attempts on the way.

Healing surge my way back to full health, just in case like

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

I awoke feeling refreshed, the rigours of the previous day all but forgotten. Before I went to bed I had transcribed one of the rituals I had picked up at the wizard's house into my rituals book, an exceptionally useful rite that would create magic curtains to obscure the view of potential spies. No longer would my modesty be compromised when nature called during an adventure!

I packed up my stuff, leaving behind the now empty ritual book and prepared my Shield and Sleep spells for the day ahead, hoping that the day would not bring a fight against a small group of acid-weak but otherwise indestructible enemies. I joined the others for a light breakfast then we set off in search of the criminal underworld. I had high hopes of meeting some shady character, possibly with an eye patch or a weird speech impediment, controlling a huge network of criminals and other scum. I had always thought the life of a cut-purse to be quite a romantic one, full of jolly escapades and japes, staying one step ahead of the law and getting together for a rousing sing-song with my criminal cronies while we counted the loot at the end of each day. Had I not been blessed with arcane powers, I rather fancied that I might have become a highwayman or other such rogueish raconteur.

The big fellow led the way, seemingly nervous as we entered the less reputable part of town. As we went, I kept my eyes open for a costume shop, still hoping to find some face paint to really finish off my new look.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

My necrotic chums engaged the clerk in a discussion, probably a negotiation over the fee we were to be paid for retrieving the sword. I looked around the room while they did, having never been in the offices of a crime syndicate before and curious as to what went on here. I was a little disappointed to be honest, it looked rather like any other office with nothing outwardly on display to suggest criminality. I had been hoping for a secret handshake at the very least and the relative normality of it all left me rather dejected.

I reached out with my senses, hoping that the normality of the office was all a powerful illusion and actually we were unknowingly standing in a proper den of thieves with games of dice going on in the corner and a shady fence buying and selling stolen wares at knock down prices. I also looked around for any small, valuable looking objects that one might be able to pocket through a combination of turning them invisible and dumping them in ones pocket via Presdigitation spells. Despite appearences, this was the office of a major criminal organisation after all and they'd expect nothing less, surely?

Arcana check for any spells being used in the vicinity, look around for anything stealable

I was speaking idiomatically.

In an attempt to make him look more mean and sinister, I used my presdigitation spell to make the big human's eyes appear to glow red.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

We left the syndicate's offices and meandered back to the inn. I was feeling rather despondent. The offices had been nothing at all how I expected a major criminal base to be with virtually no evidence of skullduggery or wrongdoing and barely a harlot in sight. To compound my misery, the local shopkeepers seemed to be expecting an influx of wealthy sheiks from the southern lands of Araby, pockets bulging with gold from the profits of their mines, rather than common adventurers who were just looking to inspire dread in their foes with a bit or war paint. Even the most basic of magical gear was way out of my price range and it seemed that my path to mastery of the arcane arts would be one pockmarked with battlefield scavengery rather than the careful and calculated equipment purchases I had hoped for. Even though my devious thievery had proved most effective at the hideout, I had a sneaking suspicion that attempts to steal from the shops would not end well and as such, I trudged back to the inn having bought only a single potion of healing, as much as an act of retail therapy as anything else.

I resolved that whatever quest we undertook next should be whichever paid the most or with the greatest opportunity for swiping some decent loot. It seemed as though my career as a master of elemental magic to be feared across the land was not destined to be a cheap one!

Once back at the inn, I used my new notepaper and pen to jot down my recent experiences in the form of a diary or journal, entitled The storie of Scarey Bobbe, ann elementalalist moste powerfull hoping that should adventuring not pay the bills, perhaps a regular column in one the the many popular gazettes of the region might be a good alternative career.

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The big chap seemed keen on visiting the cemetary to investigate the goings on there. This suited me fine as cemetaries are always good sources of ancient tomes and other useful wizardly type stuff and communing with the dead might give me more chance to investigate my own necromantic powers which I must admit, were still something of a mystery to me.

I shrugged and nodded my assent.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

As we made our way out of the city, we once again passed the shop with the facepaints and I gave them a long, wistful look, hoping soon to return triumphant from our quest laden down with enough loot to be able to buy them...

Onwards to victory!

Jam it back in, in the dark.