Tired DM Is Tired
By Dwip October 21, 2011, 2:48 pm Comments (3) RSS Feed for this post

In which I’m going to talk about our D&D session of two weeks ago, which I’ve been putting off. I’m going to be fairly brief about it, and here’s the thing with that: while everybody else was pretty awake for the proceedings, I was exhausted. 2 liter of Coca-Cola? No help. I was so tired I was zoning out mid-combat round and mid-sentence a couple times, and I’m pretty sure I fell asleep at least once.

All of which is to say that there are going to be some fairly significant gaps in the narrative here, because I had no idea what was going on.

Our party remains:

Aukan, a 7+ foot tall goliath barbarian and ower of a life debt to Cujo the riding dog;
Davoren, human farmer priest/wizard of Helm the Watcher;
Gar Rotte, human thief;
Lord X, human paladin of Helm on a religious mission to protect Davoren;
Oscar the Magnicifent, halfling wizard, follower of Talos the Stormlord, and legend in his own mind;
Sancho, elven bard currently following Lord X and taking note of his crazy and somewhat unwise actions.

With NPC accompaniment by:

Yvette Tanislove, cousin of Lady Gilda and unwitting concubine of Lord X;
Glory, Lord X’s warhorse and 3 other assorted warhorses;
Cujo, Oscar’s riding dog;
Aukan’s 3 goats.

When last we left off, the party had just met and defeated a purple worm, whereupon they spent an entire day camped in a tunnel, resting and healing. You may notice a trend here. Following that bit of sheer excitement, they walk all day, coming to a series of forks in the tunnel, and they happen to pick the one that leads them towards Suderham, and not the ones that lead to the giant cave warrens full of ogres and/or trolls. Towards nightfall, they reach another fork in the tunnel, this one branching back the way they came and sloping upwards. A decision is made to check this tunnel out, and it turns out to lead all the way up to the surface, where it is actually nighttime. This seems a good spot to camp, and so they do.

(At this point, they’re about to circumvent something like 5 more days of Underdark travel)

At some point later, Davoren’s alarm spell in the tunnel goes off, and a short time later the party sees a patrol of ogres rounding the bend. Rather than fight, they attempt to negotiate, and thanks to some superior diplomacy, they convince Grug the ogre that no, actually, they weren’t aware this was his tunnel, sorry, and really it wasn’t too much trouble for them to get out of it, which they would do rather presently.

In the morning, they emerged from the tunnel out into the grasslands of eastern Amn. Someone flies up to take a look, and it turns out that they’re conveniently close to a road of sorts, which just as conveniently has a wagon full of stuff and some guards traveling on it, heading back the way the party had just come from.

It is in some fashion determined that this was probably a slaver caravan, and Oscar makes clever use of his message spell to talk to the slaver merchant, and with a bit of additional magic, convinces the merchant that he’s actually Talos the Stormlord, god of random destruction, and guess what, either sacrifice your wagon full of stuff and your horses, or suffer the consequences. The slavers, perhaps unsurprisingly, choose not to suffer the consequences, and commence to fleeing off to the east.

The party, having found itself in the possession of some horses and a sweet ride which so happens to be full of several weeks worth of preserved food, now ponder what to do with it. While flames and a racing stripe are considered, it is ultimately decided to find a way to repaint the wagon in some other color so as to not be seen to have this particular merchant’s wagon when they finally get to Suderham. There is some further discussion on if this is even going to be necessary, since isn’t Suderham going to be fairly full of evil slavers they’re just going to kill, but then again maybe it isn’t, maybe it’s just a normal city full of normal people, some of whom just so happen to be evil slavers they’re just going to kill. You never know.

Mounting up, the party travels east on the road, enjoying the grassland scenery if not the decidedly slow pace of wagon travel. The next day, passing a copse of trees, several human ranger types are observed fighting a goodly number of hobgoblins, some ogres, and even a hill giant. The party charges to the rescue, and after a short and bloody fight wherein Aukan rolls 3 natural 20 criticals in a row, the party finds itself having rescued Lord Mundal Krimmevol of Riatavin and his now rather diminished group of rangers, most of whom (including one unfortunate soul who accidentally shot himself with an arrow mid-battle) were wounded. Camp is made, rangers are healed, and Lord X does his very best to make a few converts for Helm. Considering the fact they had just been saved by a big shiny paladin being led by his somewhat more intelligent warhorse, most of the rangers are at least willing to listen. Meanwhile, Davoren finally gets around to summoning his familiar, a squirrel who is promptly named Mr. Nutters.

After burying their dead, the rangers depart the next morning for their own army, and the party travels onwards at blazing wagon speeds through the grasslands, into the hills, and finally into the mountains, at last entering a canyon that must be, they believe, the enterance to Suderham. Surely they’re close.

And, since the DM is, at this point, asleep in his chair (notice the four entire days with no encounter whatsoever), the session ends at this point. I still owe them XP, and they should be sure to remind me of the doubtless many funny bits I have left out due to massive exhaustion.

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Comments on Tired DM Is Tired
avatar Comment by Gormican #1
October 24, 2011 at 8:05 pm

So your party of fellow rangers is desperately trying to survive against a horde of ogres/goblins lead by a Giant. A hurled rock has crushed your leg and you fall screaming to the ground. You pray to the gods to save you. You’ve always been sorta Tyr guy, but right now you’ll take anything you can get. Alas the gods ignore your prayers and you know that you’ll soon die along with your brothers at arms. You’ll never hold your children again.
Suddenly a Brilliant Paladin right out of the story books charges out of nowhere on a massive warhorse and crashes into the Giant and begins to bash it to it’s knees. You notice others cleaving into the ogres. You strain to see the holy symbol on his shield but the golden sun glinting off of him is too much. Behind you a gentle priest kneels by your leader and pulls a simple symbol of Helm from his robes as he heals his injuries. Helm you’ve been rescued by Helmites.
The Paladin rides up and he is a vision from every bards tale. He kneels and you feel Helm’s magic flow though your body and your wounds heal. “Your safe now soldier, Helm guards you”
“Thankyou” you studder in awe.
“I must attend your brothers but afterwards perhaps you’ll join me in prayer to Helm and hear of his glory?” The paladin states confidently.
How do you answer?

avatar Comment by Dennis #2
October 30, 2011 at 3:21 am

Clearly, I answer “I will not be a slave to the system where gods rule over men, everyone should be equal. Also, my name is Dennis, it shouldn’t have bothered you to at least ask my name…. I don’t think paladins are right to be at the top of the system…. The masses are repressed by the monarchy!!!! etc. etc.”

avatar Pingback by The Ravings of Demented Rabbits » Long Time Passing #3
March 12, 2013 at 5:48 am

[…] Minotaurs!” (8/7/11), On Fifteen Foot Wide Tunnels (9/4/11), Quoth Admiral Ackbar (10/2/11), Tired DM Is Tired (10/21/11), Averted Loinclothing (11/29/11): Collectively, the last great hurrah of the Amn […]

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