The Second Coming of Chi-Sooze: SUPER ADVENTURE 3 PART I - Bottomless (Play Report)

This is a play report for oldhawkeye's SUPER ADVENTURE III PART I - Bottomless. I played a 5th edition D&D 7th level Celestial Warlock called Luzius Fax. Luzius originally was from a Curse of Strahd campaign ran by bue back in the dark days. In retrospect he was one of the most insufferable pieces of OC I ever created. But he was a fun pick for a Delta Green Scenario flailsnails type situation.

 

The following is an excerpt from Luzius golden prayer book:

 

Oh, Father, Lord of Birth and Renewal, hallowed be Thy light.

 

Oh, Bringer of Eternal Dawn, you sent me to the realm of Earth to face my biggest challenge.

 

I have vanquished the wicked, and light has prevailed.

 

I came to the frozen land of Kolor Ado, where the mad lords of the kingdom of Oohessay had made a pact with the fiends of the far realms; they were selling their people to the followers of Orcus.

 

I joined forces with an old cleric of Kelemvor, The Great Guide, Lord of the Crystal Spire, Judge of the Damned. His name was Brother Shimur.

Shimur captured one of the abyssal agents and questioned them while I went to tend to the poor and sick of Kolor Ado.

For there were many ill and ailing in this land ruled by greed and avarice.

 

Meanwhile, Lux Lumina, my celestial companion, snuck into the keep of the corrupted.

She returned with news of victims being enthralled by demonic sorcery.

May the rose-gold flame of the radiant Lord bring light to this dark realm.

 

My deeds did not go unnoticed by the people of Oohessay.

They sent messages through their network of ley lines speaking of the return of an Illmater avatar called Chi-Sooze.

Their minds were clouded by the lies of Cyric, for they did not realize that it was the Patron of Eternal Youth that had sent his son to protect them.

 

It dawned on me that I had to show them the clear way of beauty’s reign myself.

Only sacred fire would bring the new morning of rejuvenation to these people.

 

And so, a band of heroes joined up with the Kelemvorite and the Lathanderite:

Sahajim, a Triton warrior from the Elemental Plane of Water, took on the role of captain.

Lantry, a master in the Tel’Quessir art of Elven bladesinging.

Leo Highwind, a mighty hero of giant strength, presumably from the city of Calimport.

10-K, a liberated undead slave from the lands of Thay and a master alchemist.

Angishu Fishbiter, a soldier from the land of Unther, possibly a prince of the dynasty of Gilgeam.

Li Xiao, a sage with a Kara-Turian name who learned at the oohessayian Candlekeep.

 

Though the forces of darkness were numerous and strong, the beacon of dawn had been lit.

The innocent of Kolor Ado flocked to the Garrison of Garson, where the abyssal forces had gathered.

Thousands of pilgrims chanted for the unbreaking of the circle and called to the soldiers to lay down their arms.

But the fiends did not, and they answered the prayers with fire.

 

It was the day the local people called Istair on which Chi-Sooze had been slain.

 

As I saw the guiltless burn, so did the flame of radiant justice erupt from within me.

And so the people of Kolor Ado in the realm of Oohessay saw that the Morninglord would never abandon them.

Golden rays of radiance rained from the skies; the wicked were scorched.

And from death, divine life arose.

 

Then the adversaries brought out an apparatus like the one built by Kwalish in a last effort of defense.

But its missile did not break Lathander’s shield.

The virtuous remained unscathed.

 

And as all can be forgiven, the apparatus was absolved and gifted with life.

 

Oh, but the wicked warlocks of the mad ogre king were cunning.

They summoned the dragons of the air force and ordered them to melt the land of Kolor Ado.

 

I knew the light of the rose-gold dawn would not let the new children of Lathander perish.

All would be reborn at dawn.

 

My comrades had located the Nautiloid used by the forces of darkness.

The path was clear, and we sailed through the phlogiston to the Far Realms.

Evil would be defeated.

 

I swore an oath to let all who dwell in the dark feel your holy dawn, oh Morninglord.

 

The people of Earth saw in me the Kolor Ado Chi-Sooze because they could not look into the sun directly.

But I have sown the seeds, and they will find the path to you, Morninglord, Commander of Creativity, Inspiration’s Dawn, the Rose-and-Gold God, Bringer of Dawn, Lord of Birth and Renewal, Patron to Spring and Eternal Youth, Mentor of Self-Perfection, Amauntor, Lord Lathander.

 

There is always another dawn.

The Crypt of St. Cumarin: The Rise of Bill Batmann - Delve #2 (Play Report)

This is a play report for a megadungeon run by my friend bue. I have been told that it contains material from Dyson's Delve. FMC Basic is our framework of choice.

A protocol transcribed by the dreamer of Kurt's life. Abrupt changes in style, inconsistencies, or complaints about tangents are to be addressed to the Lord of Morphine.

Goodbye, sun. Shine all you want, oh burning orb in the skies. The only shine I care for is the one found deep beneath. I look to my buddy Korbinian as I lift my pack. I signal with a nod that I am ready, and he, the ever-vigilant mage that he is, only returns a smirk, while the hired swords Münze and Schwerthelm prepare torches. 

We return to the cave we left but a week ago; the smell of rot and the taste of earth greet us—home sweet home. Ah, what’s that, a familiar noise? A mixture of noise, squeaking, and chattering, known to us individually but novel as a duet. We move carefully through the mountain’s bowels and approach the source of our aural stimulation. Münze notices the drops of sweat on his left hand, how they reflect the flickering light of his torch, and he wonders if this is fear. No, this isn’t fear; I am not afraid, he reassures himself. I am tense because I remember the enormous ferrets, and my employer, Kurt, has promised me wealth beyond my wildest dreams. I have yet to see anything. That greedy bastard. 

This might be a death trap. If these ferrets are still here and if they are hungry, we might be just what they are looking for. I love this kind of danger. It makes me feel alive. I am Kurt, the greatest warrior these lands will ever know, I remind myself as I look at the scene before us. A troupe of seven batfolk are wrestling with the three ferrets we observed last week. They are quite capable and don’t seem bothered by the audience. We commend their bravery with a formal applause. I offer them my knife, hoping to gain their friendship. Oh, what a brute I am! Korbinian only shakes his head; the cave dwellers do not hunt these beasts for sustenance, no, their aim is domestication. I apologize profoundly for my ignorance and gain the attention of one of them. 

Warrior? You help, the little one articulates in broken trade speech. He reminds us, big! big problem!, and we agree to lend our arms to their cause. The earthworm listening in to our conversation only shakes its faceless head; it disapproves of violence. What does it know? It’s only a figment of my imagination. Begone, worm. 

Our new friend leads the willing band of would-be heroes towards where they have traded mushrooms with his kin. Three fire beetles chitter with aggressive joy when they hear about this. The three skitter and race each other, fighting for the right to lead the ambush. The winner sprays a salvo of fire. Münze burns, learning true fear. Schwerthelm remains steadfast but hurt. Korbinian recites one of his metalogical verses and blinds one of the insects. Kurt throws his magical dagger but misses again and again. Korbinian, Schwerthelm, and our guide do not. They squish the pests. 

The display of bravery by our batfolk accomplice does not go unnoticed, and we bequeath him Münze's old sword, which he fashions into an improvised glaive of an impressive quality. Münze had a wife, children, and a mistress who all depended on him. How will they survive? Do we owe them compensation? Korbinian reflects on this while I claim the dead man's chain shirt for myself. 

Our hireling lies dead, and our new friend has earned himself a nom de guerre. Henceforth he will be called Bill Batmann. Life moves on, and so do we. 

I have only known Bill for one session but I love him like a son. 

The two guards are happy to see us again but unwilling to join us. Still, we manage to convince them to stand guard as we approach the problem. We observe bat noises of different pitches and an open fire as well as two smaller batfolk, occupied with menial tasks. Through the use of hand signs, I try to signal to them that we are here to liberate them and try to encourage them to rise against their tormentors. This prompts them to run towards us. Their captors do not hesitate and give chase. We retreat with a plan to use the door as a choke point, holding it shut as good as we can. Thump, thump, thump, the adversary’s fist bangs against the door. And then we pull it open just as another hit would have landed. Caught on the wrong foot, the large batfolk squints, visibly uncertain where to swing its mace. We strike, and I miss again and again. My comrades do not, and the beast falls, Bill Batmann gutting it like a fish. We hug the wall, knowing that this was not a lone foe. 

A second hulking figure appears in the doorframe, and we strike again. My dagger does not find its target. Bill Batmann gets struck and hits the ground. Thirst for vengeance has never been more justified; the giant is slain. 

And as if the gods heard our pleas, Bill Batmann still breathes, though he will need treatment by a proper barber surgeon. 

We decide to look beyond the chamber where the beasts resided, before retreating to town, and find their squalid quarters. A locked chest sits in it and mocks us with its weight. Tears in my eyes, fearing for the life of Bill, I take the great axe I have given to Schwerthelm and ready myself to smash it open. Fortunately, my comrade Korbinian is a man who can keep his calm. Without much effort he produces a key he has found by inspecting the table in the same room. He might think Kurt is acting strange. Since when does he care for anything but silver? Schwerthelm definitely seems a little irritated by the warrior’s impulsiveness. 

Eventually, the chest is opened, and a large cave truffle worth 500 silver pieces is revealed. 

The party hastens back to town, carrying Bill Batmann all the way. A shady surgeon is paid a handsome sum to care for the wounded bat hero. Korbinian convinces Kurt to pitch in for a little widow's fund for Münze's wife. Kurt orders a chain mail to be made for Bill Batmann. 

And thus the legend of Bill Batmann begins.

 

An updated map of what we call the Batlands.

 

The Crypt of St. Cumarin - Delve #1 (Play Report)

This is the first play report for a megadungeon my friend bue is running for us. I have been told that it contains material from Dyson's Delve.  

The following are the notes of a bard who was present when Kurt the Warrior spoke to some youths at the local inn. 

This is a map Kurt drew on a napkin.

Listen, lads. 

Everyone has got to start somewhere. Your old uncle Kurt did too. 

Maybe thirty years ago my buddy Korbinian, who became the legendary wizard you all heard of, and I entered the crypt of Saint Cumarin for the first time. The crypt was supposed to lie beneath some ruins on a little hill. 

We had hired two soulless swords called Schwerthelm and Münze and done the necessary preparations in town. One rumor particularly piqued our interest. Apparently there were alternative entrances along the side of the hill. Hoping that there was less competition, we opted to search for those.

We found it with ease after circling the sides of the hill. A natural cave entrance led us into the depths. 

Now you might expect me to tell you that we encountered a dragon and its hoard inside. But I must disappoint you young listeners. Treasure hunting is slow and tedious work. And it is generally far less exciting than the stories you hear from some romantic poets.  

The cave was dirty. There were bones of what looked to be a giant rodent. From the north and the south, we heard squeaking sounds. 

We gripped our axes and approached the tunnel with less squeaking but quickly turned around when we set our eyes on a trio of gigantic ferrets devouring large rats. The beasts were too occupied to notice our skulking around. 

The tunnel to the north provided an equally unwelcoming situation. Twelve large rats were pressing against the north wall, visibly panicked. They seemed to consider an aggressive reaction to our appearance. Korbinian the wise wove a spell to prevent an escalation and employed a technique I always found disagreeable: empathy. Unfortunately, the magical understanding only reinforced our impression that we needed to leave them be. And so we did.

There was a third tunnel that forked twice but finally led us into a part that resembled human architecture. Rectangular tunnels had always been my favored terrain. 

We turned east and encountered a room occupied by two small, bat-like humanoids. They were concerned with a spiral staircase leading up. You might expect that these were vampiric demon beasts, but they were not. I remind you again, dear listeners, that this is not some fantastic bard's tale. The opposite was true! 

We conversed with these cave dwellers for quite some time. Or tried to, but we were unable to grasp the larger meaning of their explanations. Something to do with “them,” “big,” and “problem.” Although they did tell us that, “Shiny? Deeper!” We parted on friendly terms after Korbinian offered them some garlic and received a handful of rare mushrooms (worth 20 sp) from them. 

Towards the west, we found another spiral staircase. The squeaking noises from above made us turn away from it. Also remember, the batfolk had told us that the “shinies” were below.

South of this room we found our first tomb. There was a large mosaic of a saintly man with fish eyes feeding rats we believed to represent St. Cumarin. To our great disappointment, the sarcophagus was empty except for a corpse in rags. Korbinian had the idea to look for hidden switches within the mosaic, but we were without success. 

Continuing southwards, we stumbled upon another tomb, a smaller one. But this one had a corpse with a dagger sticking out of it inside. Finally, something I remember myself exclaiming in the moment. I carefully extended my hand to grip the dagger's hilt and pull it out. You know what happened then, kids? The corpse twitched and grabbed my wrist. But we were quick on our feet, and through combined force we laid the undead to rest. 

With the shiny dagger (magical, +1, returns when thrown), we retreated to return another day. You see even legends begin small. I'll tell you more about our exploits next week.

 

The Meldan Family Tomb (Play Report)

This report may be a bit incoherent. I waited too long to write it.

We love a dungeon. Last week bue offered to run a quick one for me and our friend J. after dinner. I was excited to crawl because I don’t get to do it as often as I’d like to. 

We used FMC Basic to roll up Xavier Bert the Expert and Willem the Fighter. The referee was so kind as to provide us with a mercenary named Orcus Porcus, who brought an axe. 

Our characters had heard that there was some trouble with the living dead in the tomb of the noble family Meldan. A 500 gp reward was promised to whoever dealt with the troubles and rescued the missing guards, previously sent to deal with the affair. This was more than enough incentive for X. Bert and Willem.

We entered from the south, where we encountered the statue of a Meldan patriarch who seemed to have had a fondness for cats. Moving westward, we came across burial niches left and right. But many of the corpses were covered in red-blue coral-like growths. This rang some alarm bells. Fearing they were infectious and dangerous, we moved along after some light poking.

Faced with the choice between moving through a curtain of the alien corals or opening a heavy door, we chose the latter. A very irritated aristocrat was on the other side of it. He looked to be in the process of sticking bronze needles into a rabid, growth-covered corpse. Two silent giants decorated with bronze pins stood guard behind him. Assuming that this party would prefer to remain private, X. Bert shut the door only to be called upon by the disturbed academic. He shouted something along the lines of “Who are you? Get back here!”

 

X. Bert's map of the tomb.

 

Thus we joined the man of presumably Meldan heritage for some discourse. He ordered us to get rid of the infection that was taking over his servants and in return offered us the contents of his family tomb. Valuing our lives and seeing a chance for profitable enterprise, we agreed.

We returned to the entry as we did not like the idea of moving through the curtain. At the east end of the corridor, we were met with a door as well as a portcullis. The latter did not open, and we chose the door to the north. Before we got to open it, there was a brief encounter with a mute giant who presumably was in the service of the Meldan necromancer. The large corpse left us be and continued its patrol. 

Behind the door to the north, there was a group of almost dead guardsmen. They had been severely decimated by some creatures. The survivors did not even entertain the notion to stay and bolted as soon as we arrived. We pilfered their fallen comrades, which caused some noise. This attracted a group of growth-covered bodies. Lucky for us, the guards had left some fortifications we were able to use to our advantage. Slaying the creatures made us overly confident. It also made me forget about the tapestries on the walls the referee had pointed out several times…

We moved further north and came across stalagmite-like growths. Crossing the affected zone, we eventually came to another burial chamber where there were four giants lying on stone slabs holding big two-handed swords. They started to move, and not 5 minutes later, Wllem and Orcus were dead. X. Bert ran for his life without treasure or fame.

The session was a success because we spent two hours playing as friends and had fun.

The session was a failure because we messed up quite a bit as characters. We didn’t play as smart as we should have, forgot to look for secret doors, and decided to face the giant undead in battle. 

I thought about writing up a post about failing as a player, but that seems like too much work and unnecessarily tough on ourselves. Sometimes you are tired, and sometimes you forget how to play the play style you adore. You can’t expect to pull off a big scheme every session. Still, this served as a reminder that playing well isn’t as easy as it sometimes seems from behind the referee screen. 

 

Agrippa von Netteshârn, a radical optimist (Shifty Louts Play Report)

[report for a session of shifty louts refereed by jay_zero]

The rambling of Agrippa von Netteshârn as transcribed by the guardsmen that arrested him.

„It was a nice morning. The sun had just risen, and the songbirds were in love. This flowery display by nature herself drove me underground. There, within the tomb filled with miniature bones, I made new friends: Hindy, Akos, and Kenny. They had just parted ways with a group of rather grumpy mummies. Eager to avoid more awkward encounters with the local populace, we moved on. Somewhere along the way I was gifted three bottles by an impoverished noble—he lacked flesh and skin—but still we toasted to his health, emptying one of the liquids. One or two doors later we were greeted by an old acquaintance, visibly upset by the fact that I had transmuted a door into glass. In the mood for more pranks, we hid in a hole and crawled, leaving the ghost of friendship past dazed and confused. The true prank was delivered by the universe that day; the tunnel behind the hole led back to where our bond of camaraderie was first forged. Nonetheless, we remained a joyful band. We made our way back to the tunnel we expected to lead us into the sunlight. And there it was, the beautiful melody of the brightest day. Only then did we realise the disturbance. A pack of vicious guard dogs, legionnaires I would name them, loitered in a tomb. One last jest was required of us. A tossed bottle, some nervous coughs, and sixteen bleeding eyes later, serenity prevailed.“

From the pages of "Noble Metals – A Synthetic Strategy for Success" (SUPER ADVENTURE 2: Morning Party Play Report)

A play report for Mr. Mann's Super Adventure game 

A preview of Uale Xerive's upcoming publication, Noble Metals – A Synthetic Strategy for Success, that was delivered to the soulless subscribers of their Pyramideon™ service. 

Success is simple. That is the secret. – Uale Xerive

Uale Xerive, the notable and respected Cogflower Demon Hunter Necromancer of the Ultraviolent Grasslands, was once but a simple legume farmer. Now they are the richest machine mind far and wide. 

One essential skill every ambitious business bot must pick up is market evaluation. If the market does not provide the opportunities you seek, do not grind but expand your mind. This is a metaphor. Expanding your mind means expanding your market.

Thus, when Uale Xerive, the author of this work, recognized the lack of profit coming from the crystal trade, they did not whine about the invisible hand's failure but looked for new opportunities.

Uale Xerive entered the real estate market. 

With real estate in the Porcelaine City being manipulated by degenerous socialcyst nobles, Uale Xerive looked to the tax haven Blip in the Spokelands. Financial success did not present itself freely. There are no handouts. But Uale Xerive, the creator of the Noble Metal's Academy for Ambition and Accumulation, was well networked. 

Overhearing a “Writ of Request or Removal of Owners of a Private Residence And/Or Domicile Within Jurisdiction of the Association's Theater of Operation”, Uale Xerive founded a start-up and gathered a small team of talent and interns. The writ read:

 First person to kill Pyrrha Les-Arsahnist = NewOwner();
Before NewOwner(): 
    for all Property in Domiciile:
        Property.Update("Up For Grabs!");

[TO MY IMBECILE ASSISTANT JEREMY. PLEASE REWRITE THIS PART BEFORE RELEASE TO THE SUCKERS THAT READ MY EXPENSIVE BLOG. MAKE IT MORE GENIUS AND LESS LIKE I GOT LUCKY!!]

Initial shareholders of this hostile takeover were COO Snakeskin Strutta, CFO Gryndwel, CTO The Marquis, Senior Member of the Board Ludwig Lazarus, and CEO Uale Xerive. Added as unpaid interns were Steve, Pinball Pete, and The Magician.

Upon arrival on the property, the wolf pack found it to be protected by a wall. Steve was sent to find an entry and opened the wall using his diamond portfolio. Inside, the shareholders decided on a top-to-bottom approach. COO Snakeskin leveraged the side of the volcano and opened a path forward through the balcony into the bedroom of the estate.

Inside, CEO Uale Xerive, author of this book and leader in market excellency education, proposed to circle back to open a door where the pyromancer Pyrroah was found to be violating coporate policies on political literature, a firable offense. She was successfully dismissed by Senior Member of the Board Lazarus deploying the Lightning Technique (TM).

This ended the acquisitions phase and led to several steps of revolutionary ideating. The estate was stripped for parts to be left to the vultures of Blip, who have not gotten the memo about the dire state of their market. In addition, the organization was successfully downsized to improve profit margins. The trimming of the fat led to the permanent termination of the grease wizard known as The Magician. After a thorough performance review, the interns Steve and Pinball Pete were let go to find more suitable positions in the afterlife. The legacy hires of the pyromancers estate were kept to keep the competition confused.

Having made hay, the shareholders pulled the plug, sold the shares, and went their separate ways. 

This is how Uale Xerive came into the possession of the following assets [Jeremy, add the changes I have noted in red]:

- 46’740'000 gp.
- Dragon Slayer Bastard Sword +20
- Shield +100
- Plate Mail +100 (elf size)
- 3 sentient platinum metal weiner dogs Sir Lugnut, Sir Cuthbert, Sir Wrench  

 

Dogs on the Isle: The Deeds of Diago (Play Report)

[played in olliedog's wolves upon the coast game on the gay beholder server]

The following is an excerpt from the Deeds of the Diago as he imagines they will be told by the people of Castille. Factual inaccuracies may be attributed to Diago’s sick fantasies.

 

Legend has cast a deep shadow over the history of this brave hero, to such an extent that his very existence has been questioned; there is, however, no reason to doubt his exploits. History paints him as a freebooter, an unprincipled adventurer, and a greedy grave robber. This description is accurate.

 

…

 

At the age of fifteen, Diago was chased from his homeland by a mob of angry cattle herders. He made his way to Ruislip and joined a band of merry reavers, a lively but wretched bunch. Ivan, Daithi, Vaast, Foot 2Man, Llwd, Odela, Osric, and Oddbjørn were their names. The lack of coin weighed heavily on their souls.

 

So the band left the village of Killucan for the city of Blulach. There was some talk of druids, but none of it concerned Diago. He had his mind set on the coins waiting for him in Blulach. On its way north, the war band came across a river with stone men sitting on its bed. An offer of water appeased the miserable creatures and so they posed an obstacle no more. 

 

In Blulach, Diago was disappointed to learn that his new family was looking for work and gambling to fill their pockets. 
Deeming these efforts foolish, Diago boasted, “I WILL CRACK OPEN THE MAUSOLEUM OF LORD GLAS’ BELOVED MOTHER AND LEAVE NOTHING BUT BONES!”

 

Then Diago set a fire near the grave to serve as a little distraction and swiftly moved to enter the deceased lady’s resting place. He swiped what he could and placed a single candle on the sarcophagus to condole the dead noble for her financial losses. A moment later, Diago was making his way to the gates, his pockets filled with 500 silver pieces worth of spoils.

 

The next morning, he rejoined his party only to learn that they had lost their silvers gambling and that Osric had been thrown into the dungeons. Another 60 silvers were lost to free the delinquent from hard labor, and the band set out again.

 

In Killucan, the party talked itself into bringing the sad boy Ultan to meet with the stone men. But this endeavor turned out to be idiotic, as the band was ambushed by a horde of gruesome oremen on the way. They fled, eager not to be skinned by the Fomorians.

 

... 

 

And so Diago was forced to return to Blulach again where more graves would wait for him. 

 

 

Diago if he made it to an old age.