On Necromancy

Necromancy is one of eight schools of magic in D&D. The eight schools, as they are known today, were - as far as I can tell - introduced in AD&D 1e, with each spell's description listing the school to which it belonged. Actual descriptions of the schools of magic and what they represent would have to wait for AD&D 2e, which provides the following language about necromancy:

Necromancy is one of the most restrictive of all spell schools. It deals with dead things or the restoration of life, limbs, or vitality to living creatures. Although a small school, its spells tend to be powerful. Given the risks of the adventuring world, necromantic spells are considered quite useful.

Necromancy's portfolio in 2e is about what one would expect: raising the dead, draining the vitality of others (without killing them necessarily), summoning or controlling the corporeal dead and spirits, and death-dealing magic like death spell and finger of death. A few oddballs exist such as contagion (diseases are a form of life), magic jar (which manipulates the soul, i.e. the spiritual essence of a creature), and clone (which involves the creation of a new life).

Clerics in 2e also have access to the necromantic sphere of influence, which includes many of the same or similar spells, but also a great deal of curative magic: cure blindness and deafness, cure disease, raise dead, regenerate, reincarnate, etc. Another sphere, healing, also contains a number of spells which are in the necromancy school (yes, cleric spells are organized both by school and by sphere, for some reason), including all of the cure wounds spells, slow poison and neutralize poison, and heal.

The next description of necromancy I'll examine is from 5e. It's much the same as the 2e description, with one exception:

Necromancy spells manipulate the energies of life and death. Such spells can grant an extra reserve of life force, drain the life energy from another creature, create the undead, or even bring the dead back to life.

Creating the undead through the use of necromancy spells such as animate dead is not a good act, and only evil casters use such spells frequently.

Here, the creation of undead is explicitly identified as being an evil act. 

Is Necromancy Evil? 

This is a debate that people love to have, and I'm not going to get into the weeds of it, beyond saying that this is entirely an issue of setting. In 2e, creating undead is not Evil because the basic undead - skeletons and zombies - are Neutral in alignment; whether they are "Good" or "Evil" is entirely dependent upon what their creator does with them. 

In 5e, creating undead is Evil because these creatures are suffused with life-hating negative energy. The caster is creating a creature that is Evil - regardless of what the caster intends to do with the undead, they are bringing an Evil creature into the world, which is an Evil thing to do, according to D&D's morality.

That's just baseline, vanilla 5e. The DM can do anything they want with their setting, including making basic undead creatures Neutral by default, thus eliminating the inherent Evilness of creating such creatures. Whether or not society at large frowns upon such acts is again entirely up to the DM. 

It may be accepted that the crown animates the dead to perform menial labor or serve in the military, and this may be viewed as a patriotic service which every citizen (or at least the poor ones) anticipates after death. Simultaneously, it may be frowned upon when independent necromancers break into ancestral tombs and animate the dead without proper authorization. I imagine most common folk don't appreciate the necromancer who comes to the village with a menagerie of rotting corpses in tow, regardless of whether or not the gods care.

Necromancy, Black Magic, and Reversible Spells

Another key difference between AD&D's necromancy and modern D&D's necromancy is in spell classification. In 3e, many healing spells were reclassified from necromancy to conjuration. In 5e, they now fall into the evocation school - cure wounds, healing word, heal, etc. Evocation is the school of magic which channels energy from different planes - in this case, the caster is channeling positive energy from the Positive Energy Plane. Sure.

Necromancy in 5e retains most of the spells which restore the dead to life - revivify, raise dead, and resurrection. Reincarnate has been relocated to transmutation. This doesn't make a lot of sense, since the spell "forms a new adult body for [a dead humanoid creature] and then calls the soul to enter that body." This sounds more like a fusion of conjuration and necromancy - the caster is creating a new body (conjuration) and putting the dead creature's soul into it (necromancy). They're not actually transforming the original body (which would be transmutation). The clone spell (which remains a necromancy spell in 5e) also creates a new body for a creature, so it seems safe to say that reincarnate should still be a necromancy spell.

The big difference is that in 5e, necromancy seems to be associated with "black magic". Despite the description of the school stating only that creating undead is Evil, the actual spells which are in the school instead seem to suggest that the practice of necromancy in most forms is Evil - it is now, to some extent, the magic of causing fear (cause fear - which "awaken[s] the sense of mortality" in a creature in order to elicit magical fear) and cursing (bestow curse, blindness/deafness, and eyebite - for some reason, similar cursing spells like bane and hex are instead in the enchantment school).

I suspect that to some extent, this is because 5e does not have the concept of reversible spells. As far back as OD&D, curses were possible by way of casting a reversed bless spell. Finger of death was a reversed raise dead. In AD&D, cause fear was a reversed remove fear. In these versions of D&D, only Evil clerics use the reversed versions of spells, suggesting that reversed spells were solely in the realm of black magic. With the loss of reversible spells, the Evil magic had to go somewhere, so it was distributed into a couple of odd schools, one of which is necromancy.

Does that make necromancy Evil? I don't know. Is summoning a demon Evil? Is scrying on someone during their most intimate moments Evil? Is mind-controlling someone Evil? What about blowing someone up with a fireball, creating an image of their greatest fear and scaring them to death, or "permanently" turning them into a fly? 

Magic in all its forms is terrifying. Even when it's used in the name of "Good", the effects are such that, even in dire circumstances, I doubt that the ends totally justify the means. Players characters are quick to do all these nasty things - and often take great delight in doing so. I don't see much point in hand wringing about necromancy in particular.

The Necromancer

Although schools of magic weren't delineated until AD&D, the term "necromancer" in D&D dates back to 1974 and Book I: Men & Magic, where "Necromancer" is the title bestowed upon 10th-level magic-users (the level immediately preceding becoming a true wizard, suggesting that necromancers are quite powerful in this implied setting).

AD&D 1e had the illusionist class, which is the first inkling of the specialist wizard class that was to come in 2e. In 2e, specialists (including necromancers) have an increased chance to learn spells from their chosen school of magic and to create new spells which fall into their school. Their opponents suffer a -1 penalty to saving throws against spells from their chosen school, and the specialist receives a +1 bonus to saving throws against spell from their school. This affects spells like chill touch, spectral hand, and hold undead.

The 2e necromancer cannot cast spells from the enchantment and illusion schools, as they are schools of opposition for necromancers. I've written briefly before about how I think the restrictions imposed by schools of opposition should be interpreted. In this case, why would a wizard who's preoccupied entirely with the dead care to concern themselves with enchantment magic, which typically only influences the living? In 2e, most undead are entirely unaffected by mind-altering magic of any kind, which would also explain why the necromancer doesn't care to study illusions.

In 5e, the necromancer (along with the other specialists) returns as one of the eight subclasses (Arcane Traditions) available to wizards in the PHB. Necromancers regain hit points whenever they kill a creature with magic (earning 50% more hit points when using a necromancy spell to do so), they can create one additional skeleton or zombie when casting animate dead (which they learn for free, albeit a level later than they otherwise would if they simply picked it as one of their new spells on a level up), their undead are tougher and hit harder, they gain resistance to necrotic damage and immunity to maximum HP reduction (5e's watered-down version of the undead's infamous level draining powers of yore), and eventually, they can control even the more powerful undead which they cannot create themselves, such as liches, mummy lords, and vampires.

Not too bad, but beyond those first two features, there isn't much incentive to actually use necromancy spells. As I described in my previous post on specialist spellcasters, like most "specialists", the necromancer is likely to pick the few spells that benefit from their handful of features (in this case, any damaging necromancy spells and any spells which create undead). Otherwise, their spell selection probably looks like any other wizard's.

Army of Darkness

Can a necromancer in D&D actually command an undead army? Realistically, it is highly campaign-and DM-dependent. Theoretically, according to Reddit's calculations, the answer is yes. But that's Reddit - people there only think/talk/complain about D&D on the internet, but I am grateful to them for doing the arduous theory-crafting while normal people actually play the game they like with their friends.

If I was going to play a necromancer, I'd pay close attention to undead-maxing, and I'd make sure to take every opportunity to add to my collection. The best way to do this without having to worry about reasserting control over the undead every day is to simply kill every enemy humanoid encountered with finger of death, which turns said humanoids into zombies permanently under the caster's control.

I'd make sure to secure a headquarters for myself wherever the party's base of operations was, and I'd be pilfering piles of bones and black onyx stones from every dungeon I could find. My downtime and spell slots would be spent raising the dead and learning more powerful spells to do so.

If I was really serious about having an undead army, I'd spend some time tracking down the wand of Orcus, which can summon 500 hit points of skeletons and zombies per day (unfortunately, they only last until dawn).

Some DMs might be upset if their necromancer player tried to run around with 100+ undead minions, but if I had a player who was willing to do the math, show their work, and put in the in-game time and dedication, I'd be nothing but excited to help them pull it off.

Healing the Wounded, Raising the Dead

I get that wizards aren't supposed to heal people - it's not their role in the game, and niches should be protected so that the classes each retain their archetypal identities. However, I don't think it would be the end of the world if necromancers, at the very least, could heal and raise the dead (i.e., not as an undead creature). That strikes me as the main reason a wizard in a fantasy world would choose to become a necromancer specifically, with all the stigma potentially attached to it - it gets you access to things the other schools don't.

I do think spells which raise the dead kind of suck - read more about how to make it interesting at Prismatic Wasteland, which is what got me thinking about this topic to begin with. However I also kind of like the silly, comic book-y, video game-y triviality with which characters can perish and then return to life. I like that, like worrying about food, water, torches, magic item identification, overland travel, getting lost, and many other low-level concerns, death is simply another setback (albeit an extreme one) which characters can more or less cease to worry about after a certain point in the game. I like a fantasy world where one can go to the local temple and pay a boatload of gold to defy Death and the gods themselves, all for the sake of convenience and getting back to playing the game. However, even this has its limits.

I use a few rules from AD&D to spice up resurrection in my 5e games: resurrection survival chance and permanent Constitution loss. In AD&D, a character has a percentage chance of being successfully raised from the dead determined by their Constitution score (from 40% with a Constitution of 3 to 100% with a Constitution of 18). A failed roll indicates that the character is dead forever. 

Furthermore, the character's Constitution score is a limit on the number of times they can be raised from the dead - each time they die, their Constitution is reduced by 1, which in turn affects their chance of later being raised from the dead, because the resurrection survival chance is dependent on Constitution. 

Note that this means that technically, a character with Constitution 15 can be raised from the dead 15 times. After the 15th time, their Constitution is now 0 - I have no idea how this is supposed to work, and would rule instead that a dead character is permanently dead if their Constitution score is 1 at the time of death. I imagine that a player would have to be pretty bad (or extremely good, depending on one's goals of play) at D&D to have a character die this many times, so it would probably never come up anyway.

In 5e, I import the Constitution reduction when raised from the dead (I actually make it -2 Constitution each time a character is raised, since death is fairly rare, and this both ensures that the character's ability score modifier is actually affected and reduces the overall number of times that the character can be raised). I also import resurrection survival checks - characters who are raised from the dead must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw or be permanently dead. The DC increases by 5 each time the character dies. I could make it a Constitution check, if I wanted it to be harder, but the rule is pretty harsh as is, and it being a saving throw makes certain classes (such as barbarians and fighters) easier to raise, which I do like.

Clone Wars

Clone is a nifty spell. From 5e:

This spell grows an inert duplicate of a living, Medium creature as a safeguard against death. This clone forms inside a sealed vessel and grows to full size and maturity after 120 days; you can also choose to have the clone be a younger version of the same creature. It remains inert and endures indefinitely, as long as its vessel remains undisturbed.

At any time after the clone matures, if the original creature dies, its soul transfers to the clone, provided that the soul is free and willing to return. The clone is physically identical to the original and has the same personality, memories, and abilities, but none of the original’s equipment. The original creature’s physical remains, if they still exist, become inert and can’t thereafter be restored to life, since the creature’s soul is elsewhere.

I'm not really sure why it's limited to just medium-sized creatures. The necromancer should be able to clone a dragon, if they can get access to some of its flesh. Why not? Can't make a big enough urn?

The 120-day gestation period and expensive material components do beg the question as to why this is any better than, say, revivify, raise dead, or resurrection. My guess is that it's because all of those spells require an intact body, and clone does not. True resurrection, which also doesn't require a body, is a 9th-level spell, so clone (an 8th-level spell) comes earlier. Plus, it's just cool and weird. Any self-respecting wizard of mine (it's a wizard-only spell, barring bards' Magical Secrets) is going to have one of these bad boys lined up at all times during the late stages of a campaign.

But wait - as is often the case, the AD&D version of this spell is way cooler. From 2e:

This spell creates a duplicate of a human, demihuman, or humanoid creature. This clone is in most respects the duplicate of the individual, complete to the level of experience, memories, etc. However, the duplicate really is the person, so if the original and a duplicate exist at the same time, each knows of the other's existence; the original person and the clone will each desire to do away with the other, for such an alter-ego is unbearable to both. If one cannot destroy the other, one will go insane and destroy itself (90% likely to be the clone), or possibly both will become mad and destroy themselves (2% chance). These events nearly always occur within one week of the dual existence.

Note that the clone is the person as he existed at the time at which the flesh was taken for the spell component, and all subsequent knowledge, experience, etc., is totally unknown to the clone. The clone is a physical duplicate, and possessions of the original are another matter entirely. A clone takes 2d4 months to grow, and only after that time is dual existence established. Furthermore, the clone has one less Constitution point than the body it was cloned from; the cloning fails if the clone would have a Constitution of 0.

The material component of the spell is a small piece of the flesh from the person to be duplicated.

This is fantastic. AD&D's clone creates an actual clone, rather than an inert backup body. The clone and, to a lesser extent, the magic-user, cannot bear to exist simultaneously. They will destroy each other or go mad and destroy themselves. I have a roster of wizard characters who I play in 5e, who all look alike and hate one another, and their secret is that they're all clones of an AD&D wizard (technically, they would have gone mad and destroyed themselves by now, but eh).

Okay, so the magic-user can make a clone. What's the point if they can't use their clone as a duplicate of themselves, subject to their whims? Why would I want to make something that will try to destroy me or cause me to destroy myself?

First, I see this version of clone as a true last resort - a clone is something a magic-user prepares when they're almost certain that they're marching to their doom. So long as the clone doesn't finish its gestation until after the original wizard is dead, it's fine. Alternatively, clone can still be a backup waiting in the wings, but if the clone has been gestating for about two months and the magic-user is still alive, they should probably destroy the clone and get started on a new one, just to be safe.

Second, why not use clone to destroy one's enemies? If the magic-user can somehow acquire the flesh of a foe, the resulting clone will be Hell-bent on destroying their alter-ego. If the party's goals align with the clone's (i.e., they too are trying to destroy the alter-ego), the party now has a new ally in the form of their enemy's exact duplicate. They just have to destroy the original before the clone goes mad.

The clone has all of the memories of its original self, however, so once the original is destroyed, the clone might turn out to also not like the party very much, depending on the circumstances. But hey, the party helped the clone out - surely that must be worth something!

Finger of Unconsciousness

Finger of death sucks in 5e. I'll explain why.

You send negative energy coursing through a creature that you can see within range, causing it searing pain. The target must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 7d8 + 30 necrotic damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

A humanoid killed by this spell rises at the start of your next turn as a zombie that is permanently under your command, following your verbal orders to the best of its ability.

Finger of death doesn't kill characters (except by massive damage). A character reduced to 0 HP by the spell starts making death saving throws. A monster or NPC reduced to 0 HP by the spell (usually) dies outright. This should be worded more like disintegrate:

A creature targeted by this spell must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, the target takes 10d6 + 40 force damage. The target is disintegrated if this damage leaves it with 0 hit points.

Finger of death should say "The target is dead if this damage leaves it with 0 hit points." And it does just that in my 5e games. More player characters should become zombies under the DM's control.

Furthermore, as with clone, I don't see why this should only zombify humanoid creatures. I want to slay a dragon with this spell and have a zombie dragon under my control.

"I worked hard for this!"

Enlich Yourself

No discussion of necromancy would be complete without touching on lichdom, the ultimate aspiration of evil spellcasters the world over. After all, there's no other way for a creature to live forever, right? 

Uh yeah, well, resurrection magic and clone exist, sure, but resurrection requires that the spellcaster has loyal friends or followers who will raise their evil ass, and clones are susceptible to pesky adventurers breaking into the spellcaster's stronghold and smashing all their clone vats (plus, my 5e house rule about Constitution loss for resurrection applies to clones as well, so that isn't sustainable forever, either).

But finding out where a lich is hiding its phylactery, acquiring it, figuring out how to destroy it, and actually doing it? That's hard. That's why a spellcaster becomes a lich - that, and, like, all the other benefits. Based on the statblock, I'd say that a 5e character who becomes a lich gains the following benefits:

• Natural AC of 14 + Dex
• Constitution saving throw proficiency (assuming the 5e lich's proficiency with Intelligence and Wisdom saving throws is due to being a wizard)
• Resistance to cold, lightning, and necrotic damage
• Immunity to poison and nonmagical weapon attacks
• Immunity to exhaustion and the charmed, frightened, paralyzed, and poisoned conditions
• 120-foot truesight
• Resistance to turn undead
• The Paralyzing Touch attack

Plus, they're undead - no need to eat, sleep, drink, etc. They can go live in space! If they cast gentle repose on themselves regularly, they don't even have to get all grey and old and ugly and nasty. They will, uh, probably go insane, though, and become Evil.

Unfortunately, 5e's designers do not want the player characters to become liches, it seems, which is really unfortunate - just one of those things they don't give the DM rules for because they want people to "have fun" figuring it out on their own, or whatever. Luckily, AD&D is the encyclopedia of D&D! From 2e:

In order to become a lich, the wizard must prepare its phylactery by the use of the enchant an item, magic jar, permanency, and reincarnation spells. The phylactery, which can be almost any manner of object, must be of the finest craftsmanship and materials with a value of not less than 1,500 gold pieces per level of the wizard. Once this object is created, the would-be lich must craft a potion of extreme toxicity, which is then enchanted with the following spells: wraithform, permanency, cone of cold, feign death, and animate dead. When next the moon is full, the potion is imbibed. Rather than death, the potion causes the wizard to undergo a transformation into its new state. A system shock survival throw is required, with failure indicating an error in the creation of the potion which kills the wizard and renders him forever dead.

When one of the players in my 5e game wanted their character to become a lich, I imported these rules almost exactly (changing some of the spells that don't exist in 5e like enchant an item to magic weapon, wraithform to etherealness, and getting rid of permanency - which should exist in 5e, but that's a topic for another time). Since a would-be lich needs to be able to cast 9th-level spells, the phylactery has to be worth at least about 25,000 gold. Since crafting in 5e is done in 50 gold piece increments per week, it takes something like 10 years to create a suitable phylactery. Luckily, multiple people can work on a single item to reduce the time.

The player character went about creating a sycophantic cult and infiltrating the necessary artisan's guild so that they had a roster of fanatically loyal artisans. Other cultists began robbing the homes of the nobility to finance the project, and got into a turf war with a gang of wererats, who were a threat to meddle in the character's machinations. 

Over something like a year and a half of real-world time, the player character gradually sunk money into the phylactery's construction. They also had to build an alchemical laboratory in order to brew the transformation potion, but the cost of this was relatively inconsequential. 

Finally, when the phylactery and potion were ready and the moon was full, they drank the potion in the secret vaults beneath the cult's hideout. They needed to pass a DC 30 Constitution saving throw to survive. Anticipating this, they had recruited a number of NPC spellcasters and other allies to give them as good a chance as possible. One of the most tense moments of the three-year campaign came when the player rolled the die...

They succeeded! Their character was now a lich, and they had worked for it and earned it in the fiction. It's one of my favorite moments as a DM.

Then, the player asked how they might go about acquiring the legendary, soul-eating sword, Blackrazor, and how they might create a new spell, like magic jar or soul cage, which could trap the soul of a creature slain by Blackrazor inside of an enchanted gem affixed to the sword, which would then send the soul directly to their phylactery for feeding. So, I got to figuring out how that might work, and how the player could make it a reality.

Gotta love necromancers!

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 16

We played the 16th session of our AD&D 2e campaign last night. The play report for our last session is here.

To recap briefly, the party reunited with the invisible forest creature, Magicheart, who revealed herself to be a pseudodragon. She agreed to join the party, and became Bernhardt Dalton's companion. The party rested in the shadow of Magicheart's great tree, and were attacked while camping by a hill giant. The party defeated the giant handily, with Karven Stone scaling and then leaping from a tree to deliver a backstab to it.

The party returned to Grimerun, then headed towards Grasshold to investigate rumors of an ogre den nearby. They met with Lady Rosemunde Chauntea, the town's religious leader, and learned that the ogres had moved in recently and had been kidnapping farmers and other townsfolk. Haymond Baler convinced Lady Chauntea to provide them with some healing potions to aid them in getting rid of the ogres. The party set out for the den and arrived without incident.

Karven snuck inside the cave and found a lone female ogre with her back turned, fiddling with something at an altar. In an adjoining cavern, four more ogres lounged about, joking and arguing. Karven beckoned the rest of the party inside, then attempted to backstab the lone ogre with a poisoned dagger. A giant weasel, which she wore around her neck like a shawl, reared up and snarled at Karven, and he missed his attack. The ogre sounded the alarm, and we got ready to roll initiative.

Party Roster

It occurred to me that I should give a summary of who's in the party at the start of each of these posts. I can easily keep track of who's who, but I know that when I read someone else's play report, I often get confused, and need to refer back to a roster of sorts to figure it out. Henchman are listed under the player character whom they follow. The party consists of:

• Bernhardt Dalton, NG human cleric 4
• Magicheart, NG pseudodragon
• Yinvalur Sparkguard, NG elf fighter 2
• Corym Vadercast, NG elf fighter 2/mage 2
• Haymond Baler, LG human fighter 4
• Derrell, N human druid 1
• Yuliana, NG human cleric 1
• Karven Stone, LE dwarf thief 4
• Sheyla, LE human thief 2

The generic map I used for the ogre den

The Dreadful Fight

We began the session by rolling initiative. Karven continued trying to stab the female ogre with his poisoned dagger. Bernhardt cast aid on Yinvalur. Corym and Haymond readied themselves with their backs to the cave entrance, deciding to hold their ground there. Derrell cast entangle to block off one of the tunnels which connected to the larger cavern where most of the ogres were. Yuliana cast bless. Sheyla and Yinvalur got ready to fire with their bows. The ogres moved in to attack, but they had to go the long way around to avoid Derrell's entangle spell.

Thing started off poorly. The first ogre to engage with the party hurled a javelin at Corym and scored a critical hit for 12 damage, which removed Corym's armor spell and bloodied him (he has 17 max hit points).

In 2e, armor grants the caster an AC of 6, and the armor has hit points equaling 8 + 1 per caster level. Each time the caster is hit, they lose hit points as normal, but the armor also loses hit points. Once the hit points fall to 0, the spell wears off. Corym has been walking around with the protection of this magical armor for maybe a week at this point.

Yinvalur scored two hits, including a critical hit of his own, with his bow, which was enough to bloody the first ogre.

The female ogre hit Karven for 10 damage, which was nearly half of his hit points (24 max). Karven scored a hit with his poisoned dagger in turn, but ogre passed her save against the Type F poison, which would have killed her instantly. Instead, she took no damage.

"Ogre Shaman" by Sepiawolf on DeviantArt. The ogre's boss was supposed to be a shaman, but for some reason I gave her a bunch of useless spells, so it didn't matter at all.

I decided to start checking morale at the top of each round, rather than on each creature's turn, because that's how it's done in B/X. 2e doesn't actually tell the DM when specifically to check morale in combat, which is weird. Since everyone is supposed to decide what they're doing at the top of the round anyway, rolling morale at that stage made more sense to me. I checked morale for the bloodied ogre, and it failed its check, meaning it would retreat that round. 

While one ogre retreated, two more emerged to fight the bulk of the party. A second ogre joined the female ogre fighting Karven. Karven started tumbling to and fro to avoid being smashed (as a dwarf, ogres suffer a -4 penalty to hit him, and tumbling increases that penalty to -8). Corym readied to drink a healing potion. Derrell began casting shillelagh so that he could join the melee next round. Everyone else drew their melee weapons and moved to engage.

What ensued was a brutal slog of a melee. I won't write out the whole play-by-play, but it was very dicey. Karven managed to avoid being smashed, but every other player was bloodied at some point during the fight, and had to alternate between making attacks and falling back to drink healing potions or receive healing from Bernhardt. 

They had mostly bad luck, missing tons of attack rolls while getting hit plenty. Almost everyone had a +1 to hit from either bless or aid, and they were able to run circles around the ogres in order to get an additional +2 from rear attacks. The way facing and rear attacks work in 2e strikes me as somewhat silly, but I guess one of the benefits of being a large party against a smaller one is being able to surround the enemy this way. There's some annoyance to keeping track of which direction someone is facing, but it's ultimately not too difficult.

At one point, Derrell got behind an ogre and smashed it with his shillelagh. The ogre promptly pivoted and turned Derrell into a smear of druid paste on the floor. With just 8 hit points, minimum damage from the ogre (2d4+6) would have killed him. Derrell was no more. The remaining henchmen had to test morale. Their morale score is 12 by default, with +1 from either aid or bless, and an additional +1 for those of Lawful alignment (Sheyla only). Sheyla failed her morale check and fled screaming from the cavern.

One of the two ogres fighting the bulk of the party was bloodied at this point, so it too made a morale check and failed. It withdrew into the rear of the cavern with the other ogre which had fled. This eventually triggered morale checks for the rest of the ogres, who had lost 25% of their party. They all passed, and continued to fight.

The second ogre fighting the bulk of the party was slain, allowing the party to reinforce Karven against the remaining two ogres. Eventually, these two ogres' morale failed as well, and they began fleeing. The party killed them on the run. Lastly, the party regrouped and plunged deeper into the cave to track down the remaining two ogres. The ogres might have tried to parley, but unfortunately, the party couldn't understand them, and at this point, it seemed easier to finish the job by killing the ogres, rather than convincing them to leave the town alone. The fight wrapped up shortly after.

Overall, a henchman died, another fled, and everyone in the party was bloodied, except Karven (who came close) and Yuliana (who was uninjured, but would have been killed in one hit). This was definitely the most dangerous encounter yet. It took almost the entire two-and-a-half-hour session, which felt right, given the stakes, though I didn't expect it to take so long. I chalk up the large amount of time spent to the ogres' high hit points (4d8+1, so an average of 19) and the high whiff factor for much of the fight.

It's All Ogre Now

The party searched the cave for surviving townspeople, but none were to be found - just bones littering the floor and filling a cauldron over the central fire pit. The party found a chunk of gold coins and a sealed scroll case marked with arcane sigils - the item that the female ogre had been puzzling over. Hilariously, they also found 37,000 copper. 

I'm not sure how exactly I ended up with so much copper in this treasure hoard, but I did. The players spent what was left of the session figuring out how to carry it all. They determined that between the two mules and the wagon, they could just barely make it work, but they'd be traveling back to town at one-third their normal speed, meaning that the half-day journey back would instead take a day and a half. We'll figure that out next time.

The party earned a huge chunk of experience points - one for the fight itself and another for completing the quest. Corym earned a level in mage, which gives him half of a d4 hit die, a 2nd-level spell slot, and a nonweapon proficiency. Karven reached 5th-level, which gives him a d6 hit die, a THAC0 improvement of 1, improved saving throws, more thieving skill points, and a backstab multiplier of x3.

All of the surviving henchmen leveled up as well. Shelya is now 3rd-level, which earns her a d6 hit die, a THAC0 improvement of 1, and thieving skill points. Yinvalur is 3rd-level as well, which earns him a d10 hit die, a THAC0 improvement of 1, a saving throw improvement, and a weapon and nonweapon proficiency. Yuliana is 2nd-level, which earns her a d8 hit die and a 1st-level spell slot.

Next time, I anticipate that the party will return to Grasshold, then continue their journey south, to Mythshire, and maybe then onto Southreach.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 15

We played the 15th session of our AD&D 2e campaign last night. The play report for Session 14 is here.

To recap briefly, the party had just sanctified and looted the shrine dedicated to the evil god of lies. Returning to the surface, they encountered Magicheart, an invisible forest entity which had been monitoring their activities. Magicheart had discerned that the party was (mostly) good, and beseeched them to travel to an ancient elf burial ground to rid it of some ghouls which had moved in.

The party returned to Grimerun first to restock. On the way, they encounter the First River Children, a band of tribesmen who were on the lookout for treasure-seekers who might plunder the forest's riches. The party managed to convince them that they hadn't taken anything of value. The following night, the party was attacked by giant spiders, managing to kill one and chase the others off. They harvested the dead spider's remains, hoping to get some deadly venom out of it.

In Grimerun, the party resupplied, and Karven Stone paid an alchemist to provide him with a dose of Type F poison from the spider they killed. They set out again for the elf burial ground. After two days of travel, they arrived without incident.

The party found the ghouls resting in a large mausoleum, and launched their attack. Corym Vadercast entered into melee with the strongest of the ghouls and was paralyzed by its claws. Before the rest of the ghouls could descend on him and devour his flesh, Bernhardt Dalton managed to use his divine powers to turn them. The ghouls fled in terror from Bernhardt as the rest of the party pursued them and eventually slayed them.

Missing Sessions

Our last session was two weeks ago. We normally play every week, and had every intention of playing last week. One of the players let me know shortly before game time that they weren't feeling well. I typically will still run the session if a majority of the players are able to play (three out of four, in this case), but when I proposed that, a second player suggested we take the week off. I was a bit behind in prep anyway, and wasn't feeling super enthusiastic about running the game that night, so I agreed, and we cancelled the session.

I took the week off to review the quests I had already prepared and refine them a bit, and figure out the next round of quest hooks now that the party is mostly 4th-level.

Returning to Magicheart

The session began immediately after the party's fight with the ghouls. There was a sizeable chunk of silver and some platinum in the main sarcophagus in the mausoleum. The majority of the party was hesitant to steal grave goods, but Karven was intent on getting some of the loot. The rest of the players attempted to convince Karven's player not to take anything, but Karven's player wouldn't budge. 

I let the discussion eat up some time, but stepped in when it seemed like the issue wouldn't be resolved. I asked "Is this something you all are willing to resort to physically fighting each other over?" They concluded that it was not. The rest of the party denounced Karven's actions, but agreed to look the other way. In the end, Karven took just a handful of silver.

It was the end of the day by the time the party had reached the burial ground, so they decided to take the opportunity to rest there, taking advantage of the shelter provided by the mausoleum. Corym heard some wolves howling in the distance that night, but the night otherwise passed without incident.

The following day, the party traveled back through the forest to meet Magicheart at her tree. Magicheart revealed herself to be a pseudodragon, and offered to join the party. Bernhardt flattered her with some obsequious words, and she flew over and perched herself on his shoulders (I had already decided that Bernhardt's sanctification of the evil altar a couple sessions ago had made him Magicheart's preferred companion, so his words of flattery sealed the deal - she had chosen him as a her companion).

Magicheart coughed up a pile of small rodent bones and valuable gemstones as further reward for the party's efforts. I let the players know what Magicheart's abilities were: She can become 80% invisible in forest settings, has 60 feet of infravision, can see invisible creatures and objects, has a poisonous stinger which can make enemies comatose or outright kill them, and she grants 35% magic resistance to whomever she's in physical contact with. The players recognized her value for what it is and were excited to have such a useful companion.

Karven the Giant-Killer

It had taken another day to return to Magicheart's tree, so the party made camp there for the night. As they were setting up camp, they heard something very large plodding through the forest, about 90 feet away. They scattered around the area, doing their best to hide. I rolled a d100 and got 54, so I decided that they would have a 50% chance of being undetected - Karven and his thief henchwoman, Sheyla, would have a better chance due to their class skills.

A moment later, about 60 feet away, a 16-foot-tall hill giant came crashing into their camp. 

I rolled a modified reaction roll of 1, indicating that the giant was hostile. The party had encountered a hill giant once before, in our very first session, but the giant had been indifferent to them, and very far away. This one was in striking distance, and looking for a fight. I described the giant as ornery, ripping up trees as if it expected people to scurry out from underneath of them like bugs.

I had the non-thieves in the party roll d100 to see if they could remain hidden from the giant (again, with a 50% chance of success). No one succeeded. The giant, towering 16 feet above them, could easily see them in their hiding spots. We rolled initiative.

Derrell, the party's druid henchman, cast entangle, creating a 40-foot square of magical overgrowth directly in front of the giant. Bernhardt cast obscurement, creating a 40-foot square of magical fog centered on himself, limiting visibility to six feet, meaning the giant could no longer see them. The giant charged through the overgrowth, succeeding on its saving throw versus the entangle spell. 

The entangle spell stipulates that a creature passing its saving throw can move through the affected area at a rate of ten feet per round, but mentions that sufficiently large creatures may be less affected or unaffected. I ruled that the overgrowth would force the giant to move at half speed. Under normal conditions, the giant could easily cover the 60 feet between it and the party and attack, but with 40 feet of overgrowth, it would need to spend its full turn moving into melee. It did so, closing in to melee with Derrell.

Karven and Sheyla, who were hidden, began climbing the surrounding trees so that they could get high enough in the air to stab the giant in its back. Since they are both thieves, they can climb at a rate equal to their regular movement rate, but because they were attempting to move silently, they could only move at one-third their usual rate. Karven climbed 20 feet up a tree. Sheyla climbed 40 feet. Karven managed to do so while remaining hidden - Sheyla was spotted. 

Yinvalur, the elf henchman, managed to hit the giant with a couple of arrows. Haymond rushed in and stabbed the giant in the foot with his trident. The remaining attacks from Corym and the other henchmen missed. 

The following round, before the giant could act, Karven launched his attack. Leaping from above the giant, Karven successfully stabbed it in the back with his longsword, then scored a critical hit with the dagger in his offhand. He fell to the forest floor, but because of his tumbling proficiency, took only half damage (on 2d6, I rolled 3, so he took just 1 damage!). 

The giant was bloodied already. I made a morale check, which was heavily penalized because the giant was badly wounded (-4), outnumbered (-4), fighting magic-using enemies (-2), and hadn't slain any of its opponents (-2). Since it had a -12 penalty, a morale score of 14, and because morale checks are made on 2d10, the giant would need to roll a 2 to succeed (a 1% chance). It failed.

The giant turned and fled, granting opportunity attacks to the many opponents in melee with it. Karven, fittingly, dealt the final blow, slicing the giant's heel so that it collapsed, allowing the rest of the party to swarm its fallen body and slay it.

The party looted the giant's sack of rocks and junk. Hill giants have a Strength of 19, so I ruled that the party needed a combined Strength of 19 to move the heavy rocks, which was easily attainable, given their numbers. Among the junk they found 3,000 gold coins, but nothing else of value. I think this is the biggest payoff they've had yet, and it just wandered into their laps.

Again, this has me reflecting on the party's luck to this point. This was another encounter that really could have gone sideways for them, but spells, numbers, and luck with initiative, attack and damage rolls, and morale allowed them to walk away unscathed and richer. Good for them.

Next Item of Business

The party returned to Grimerun over the next two days without further incident. There, they debated where to head next. They knew of a few quests. The closest was the City of Oni, where hobgoblin raiders had emerged to carry villagers off for some unknown purpose. The party wasn't sure how many hobgoblins to expect, so they turned their gaze towards Grasshold, where a band of ogres had been snatching farmers.

The party wants to travel back to Southreach, the city, where they hope to find an armorer who can turn their ankheg shells into ankheg plate armor. Along the way, they want to stop in Mythshire, where their fallen companion, Ash, was from, to notify any family he might have had about his demise. Before that, they resolved to stop in Grasshold, at least to find out more about the ogre job.

The Church of Light and Life

The party spent a few days traveling to Grasshold, stopping in towns along the way. Once there, they asked around and were told to seek out Lady Rosamunde Chauntea, the town's mayor. Lady Chauntea is a devotee of the dominant local religion, which at this point I decided to finally describe to the players.

When I first created this sandbox, I didn't give much specificity to the region's culture. It was only once the party first traveled to the city, and I had nothing really of interest to share about it, that I started to seriously consider the need to flesh out the details. After that session, I used Worlds Without Number, and my own imagination, to come up with some more concrete information.

I decided that the people in this region were very religious. Specifically, they had a myth that long ago, the city had been threatened by some great evil. A phoenix had showed up (presumably, it had been summoned by a devout priest - now a saint of sorts) to do battle with the evil. In the ensuing fight, the phoenix and the evil were both slain. The phoenix erupted in a great conflagration which burned the city to the ground, but the people were free. They rebuilt the city on the old one's ashes (symbolic!).

Now, the city holds a great temple dedicated to the phoenix, and the region is more or less ruled by the religious leaders of the Church of Light and Life. The church is mainly concerned with healing, rejuvenation, and reincarnation, symbolized by fire. The people believe that the city's grand temple protects a young phoenix, which must be nurtured by the priesthood so that it may one day defend the city again. 

There's an order of paladins who defend the church and its clergy, druids who worship primordial fire, wizards who specialize in evocation and fire magic, and thieves who want to plunder the temple's riches for themselves. Hopefully, this will someday result in some intrigue and faction play, but that will be for another time.

All this is to say that the ruler of Grasshold is a devotee of this religion. I did a little info dump for the players' benefit, and hopefully this makes the setting feel more real to them.

The party spoke to Lady Chauntea, but didn't get much more information. A band of ogres had come down from the mountains, taken up residence in a nearby cave, and were snatching people. Haymond Baler managed to convince her to give the party some healing potions to help them in their quest, which she did.

Giant-Killer No More

The ogre den was just a half-day's journey from Grasshold, so the party set out the next day. The party stayed back at the entrance to the cave while Karven snuck inside. At the back of the cave, he saw an ogre with its back turned, fiddling with something in front of a crude stone altar. In the adjoining cavern, four more ogres lounged about - one tending a large fire, another resting on a bed of grass and plants, a third cleaning up a pile of bones, and a fourth sitting by an underground stream, fishing. They seemed to be joking and arguing in ogrish.

Karven beckoned the rest of the party closer, then sneakily made his way towards the lone ogre with its back turned. The ogre has what appeared to be a deal animal's pelt draped across its shoulders. As Karven approached, the "pelt" moved and turned. It was actually a live giant weasel, and it turned its head to snarl at Karven now. He missed his backstab. The ogre - a female clutching a scrollcase, cried out in ogrish, alerting the others to the presence of intruders. 

We were about to roll initiative when I realized we were approaching the end of the session. We called it there. The party earned some experience for the fight with the giant, but no one leveled up.

Next time, I imagine a chunk of the session will be spent on the fight with the ogres. Then, if the party survives, they will return to Grasshold and continue their journey south.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 14

We played the 14th session of our AD&D 2e campaign last night. The previous session's play report is here.

To recap briefly, the party returned to Grimerun with ankheg shells in tow, where they were joined by the elf fighter/mage Corym Vadercast. They decided to head back into the forest to investigate the sunken shrine of the Dark Sun. The shrine was believed to house a blasphemous altar to the god of lies, which Bernhardt Dalton has an interest in sanctifying.

On the way there, Corym felt himself being watched by an invisible entity. The party was attacked by a pair of territorial stags.

Upon reaching the shrine, the party deduced that a number of statues there were guardians which would attack them if they tried to enter. Karven Stone attempted to topple one of the statues, which caused them to animate and attack. In the ensuing battle, Haymond Baylor's trident shattered after striking one of the statues, but the party ultimately emerged victorious. They looted the religious treasures from the shrine, and Bernhardt performed certain holy rites to consecrate the unholy altar, and that's where we concluded the session.

Meet Magicheart

The party left the shrine and headed back the way they came. They didn't get far before I rolled a random encounter. I had decided that their first encounter on the way back would be with the pseudodragon which had been invisibly watching the party on their way to the shrine. I had in mind that the dragon was invisibly following the party in order to assess their character, and had seen Bernhardt consecrate the unholy altar. That was a good enough act for the dragon to feel comfortable introducing itself.

The pseudodragon remained camouflaged for now, until the party could properly prove themselves. Telepathically, she introduced herself as Magicheart. I used one of my favorite name generators, Fantasy Name Generators's Fursona Name Generator.

My girlfriend has been playing The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, and I find the voice acting - for Zelda in particular - to be hilariously bad. I decided to channel that in my portrayal of Magicheart. I conceptualized her as being like the cutesy dragon that an elementary school girl would draw in her diary (maybe that's more apt for a faerie dragon, but whatever).

Magicheart told the party that she had seen what they did at the evil shrine, and asked if they would again prove their goodness by ridding the forest of yet another evil presence. There was an ancient elf burial ground to the north, just across the river, which had become inhabited by flesh-eating ghouls.

The party wondered how they could trust Magicheart without seeing her, and asked if she was even real. She allowed herself to be seen, just a bit, in the form of a translucent shimmer against the forest backdrop - think of the cloaking device in Predator. In exchange for their help, Magicheart said she would become their companion, and provide them with her magical protection. 

Karven grumbled that it didn't sound like there was any material gain from undertaking this quest. Haymond pointed out that having protection from a magical creature would sure be nice, and waxed poetic about the various benefits that friendly forest spirits could provide to crops. The party said that ghouls sounded dangerous, but Magicheart assured them that they were competent, brave, good-hearted adventurers (a little encouragement/egging-on from the DM never hurts).

Ultimately, the party agreed to help Magicheart, but they wanted to return to Grimerun first. Haymond needed a new trident. Magicheart provided them with a location in the forest where she could be found in the hollow of a great tree. They parted ways.

The First River Children

Later, while setting up camp, the party heard a group traveling on foot from the hills above them, to the northeast. A group of tribesmen came into view. I determined that the tribesmen were Lawful Evil, but friendly. They began to gently question the party as to their purpose in the forest.

The party told the tribesmen that they had been in the area to deal with an ankheg infestation, and that they were headed next to the elf burial ground. They didn't mention the shrine, so the tribesmen asked if they had been there. Bernhardt's player asked if the tribesmen looked like they had any association with the shrine. I said that they didn't bear any holy symbols to indicate they followed any organized religion. The party said that they had been to the shrine.

I decided that the tribesmen would lay claim to any treasure found in the forest, so they began questioning the party as to whether they had found anything. The party played coy and denied having taken any valuables. Since it was a friendly interaction, it wasn't difficult to convince the tribesmen.

Bernhardt introduced the party, and the tribesmen identified themselves as the First River Children (Fantasy Name Generators's Tribe Names Generator). Bernhardt asked about their name, and the tribesmen explained that their people believed that the river the party was currently traveling on was the world's first river, which gave birth to all later civilization. They warned the party about the dangers of the Second River Children, but admitted that the Third River Children were alright. 

The party asked about the elf burial ground, which the First River Children said was ancient and abandoned. Recently, a pack of dead-eaters had moved in. The Children had been careful to protect their own burial grounds from such monsters, but wished the party luck in dealing with them. With that, they parted ways.

Eyes in the Dark

The night passed without incident, and the party rose the next morning and had an uneventful day of travel. That night, Karven and Sheyla the thief were on watch when they noticed two sets of glowing red compound eyes in the dark, near where Derrell the druid was sleeping. By the dim light at the edge of their campfire, they could see the silhouette of hairy legs creeping closer.

Karven sounded the alarm, waking the party from their sleep. The party took up arms and readied to fight. They saw four giant spiders - eight to twelve feet in diameter - encircling their camp.

Giant spiders (not to be confused with large or huge spiders) have Type F poison, which causes instant death if a saving throw is failed. I was prepared for a (literally) very dicey encounter. Fortunately for the party, they won initiative resoundingly. Several ranged attacks struck one of the spiders at once, reducing it to fewer than half its hit points. This meant that I had to make a morale check when its turn came around. Of the spiders, it was the first to act. It failed its morale check and retreated back into the darkness.

This meant that the remaining spiders had to make morale checks as well. Two of the remaining three failed and fled. The last one passed its check and pressed the attack, but missed its target. The party surrounded the spider and slew it easily. Karven took the spider's thorax so that he could get someone in the village to extract its venom glands.

This obviously did not go how I anticipated when I rolled up the random encounter, and I'll admit that I was a bit disappointed by the results of these morale checks. At the same time, it does feel like the party is constantly flirting with disaster - whether they want to or not. They've had a few encounters now which should be very dangerous, where the dice end up more or less rolling resoundingly in their favor. They were pretty close to a brutal slugfest with an ankheg queen a few sessions ago, before their chad elf henchman bailed them out. 

The way I see it, sooner or later they're going to run into some very bad luck. Until then, they can have these wins, even if they feel a little unsatisfying to me at the moment.

Grimerun Again

The party had an uneventful day of travel and made it out of the forest. By the end of the following day, they were back in Grimerun. They had an encounter with a patrol of halfling bounders from the village, and warned them about the spiders in the forest.

In the village, the party restocked on supplies. Haymond got a new trident, and Karven got a dose of Type F poison from the dead giant spider, courtesy of the village alchemist. They also spoke to Shaelie Bouldershadow about the elf graveyard, though she didn't have much more relevant information to impart. Being a priest, she did give them some vials of holy water, however.

The party spent the night in the village, and embarked the next day for the burial ground.

Greetings, Boys and GHOULS

The party had an uneventful two-day journey to the burial ground. It was late afternoon when they got there, and they didn't see any ghouls roaming about. There was a large mausoleum in sight, so they concluded that the ghouls most likely hid in there during the day.

Proceeding across the boneyard, they noticed several graves had been dug up, the bones cracked open, and the marrow sucked out. The bones had teeth marks on them.

The party entered the mausoleum and found it seemingly empty. There were a number of sarcophagi with the lids cracked open, and gnawed bones littering the floor.

As the party moved inside, five emaciated undead creatures with long, clawed hands, sharp teeth, and lolling tongues emerged from the sarcophagi. I had determined that the ghouls' reaction was unfriendly, so they would not immediately attack. Instead, they went wild at the smell of fresh flesh, giving me the opportunity to delightedly yell "Fresh flesh!" over and over again in my best ghoulish voice.

The biggest and strongest of the ghouls beckoned the party closer, demanding only a "morsel" of flesh from each of them. Then, the party could remain here as the ghouls' prisoners, until they "ripened". Obviously, the party was not enthused by this possibility, so we rolled initiative.

Yuliana the cleric stepped forward to turn undead (which has a speed factor of just 1, making it one of the faster actions in the game). She failed her roll by 1, so the ghouls were not turned. Corym leapt forward to attack the ghoul leader, but missed. The leader attacked him in turn, scoring a hit with one of its claws. Corym failed his saving throw versus paralysis, and would be paralyzed for 6 (1d6+2 rounds)! The remaining ghouls charged in for a feeding frenzy on the helpless elf. Karven moved in and backstabbed one of them, killing it instantly (I had rolled minimum hit points for that one).

This certainly seemed like the end for Corym (whose player had just lost their other character, Ash, to the battle with the ankheg queen). At the top of the following round, Bernhardt stepped forward to try his own hand at turning undead. He rolled a 19, meaning he could turn something as powerful as a wraith! He rolled 4 on 2d6, turning all of the remaining four ghouls.

As far as we could tell, turn undead has no duration in 2e. So long as the cleric continues using their action each round to maintain the turning, the turned undead must flee from the cleric at top speed until they are able to break line of sight. The ghouls shrieked and fled into the shadowy corners of the mausoleum. The party pursued them, with Bernhardt following to ensure that the ghouls could do nothing but flee each round.

There were plenty of places for the ghouls to hide, and with the party pursuing them into these nooks and crannies, the ghouls inevitably got a few more attacks in, but only Yinvalur Sparkguard was injured, and even he wasn't paralyzed. The party handily mopped up the cowering, slavering undead.

Once again, this is an encounter that could have gone very poorly, but quickly and decisively swung (or should I say turned?) in the party's favor due to a good die roll. I'll get 'em eventually!

With that, we concluded the session. Corym gained a level in fighter, and is now a 2nd-level fighter/2nd-level mage. Haymond leveled up, and is now a 4th-level fighter. Yinvalur the henchman leveled up, and is now a 2nd-level fighter. Corym gained half a d10 hit die, and Haymond and Yinvalur each gained a full d10 hit die. All three gained a THAC0 improvement.

I'm not entirely sure what the party will do next session. First, they will probably return to Magicheart, then head back to Grimerun. After that, I imagine they will either investigate the City of Oni, or return to Grasshold and deal with the ogre den near town.

I'm realizing now that this session introduced (or at least threatened to introduce) to the players both save-or-die poison as well as paralysis, two notoriously swingy and incredibly deadly effects in old school D&D. It also gave us our first experience with turn undead, which is much more powerful than its 5e counterpart, and really drives home the value of having a cleric in the party. Without it, I'm pretty confident that Corym would have died. I'm excited to finally be getting to the good stuff and to see where it takes us.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 13

We played the 13th session of our ongoing AD&D 2e campaign last night. The previous session's play report is here.

To recap briefly, the party pressed on through the ankheg burrow, following a trail picked up by the NPC ranger, Jakayla. Along the way, they encountered a friendly gremlin, Weasel, who enlisted the party's aid in the gremlins' conflict with a tribe of urds. The two group of creatures were vying for control of a sunken shrine from the surface world, which they believed to hold great big people treasures.

The party agreed to help the gremlins, if Weasel would lead them to the ankheg nest and pay them in treasure from the gremlins' hoard. Weasel agreed, and showed the party on their way.

The party arrived at the ankheg nest, where the ankheg queen had laid a fresh clutch of eggs on a pile of corpses. The party began smashing the eggs, and the ankhegs soon emerged to stop them. In the ensuing battle with the ankheg queen, the elf fighter, Ash, was killed, but the party eventually triumphed.

The party harvested the ankhegs' acid and shells and looted some treasure from the ankhegs' victims. Bernhardt Dalton found the corpse of a cleric bearing the holy symbol of an evil god, as well as a mostly-intact journal.

The party decided to return to Grimerun, then come back to aid Weasel's people. They parted ways, and the party went back the way they had come. Along the way, they encountered one of the urds, and learned the location of their lair and the name of their leader, Zabu. The party kept the deal with Weasel to themselves. Later, they encountered more gremlins, who intended to rob them, until Karven Stone informed them of the deal with Weasel, at which point the gremlins left the party alone.

The party finally arrived back at the entrance to the ankheg burrow and found that their halfling hirelings were still waiting for them, despite the party being a few days late returning. We ended the session there.

Running Back to Grimerun

The party arrived back in Grimerun without incident. The halfling locals saw that the party came with several ankheg shells strapped to their mules, and rejoiced that the beasts had been slain. The party spoke with Shaelie Bouldershadow, the village's religious leader, who gave them a slightly larger reward in light of the fact that one of them had died.

At this point we introduced Ash's player's new character, Corym Vadercast, an elf fighter/mage. As I've explained before, I try to introduce new characters as quickly as possible - "plot" be damned - and in the case of a player character's death, the sooner the better. In this case, Corym was an adventurer who "happened" to be in Grimerun looking to join a party. Convenient!

The party spent the night in Grimerun, where they were the guests of honor at a proper halfling celebration. 

In the meantime, they discussed their next course of action. There was some interest in returning to Grasshold to deal with the ogres in the area. Since the party had recently had a resounding triumph against a pair of ogres, they were now confident that they could handle these ogres, too. Still, Bernhardt was curious about the sunken shrine at the ankheg burrow.

Bernhardt had been reading the journal he found on the corpse of the cleric. The journal belonged to one Brother Laurentius, who had come to the burrow in search of the lost shrine. The journal described a "true shrine" hidden by secret doors within the "false shrine". The true shrine contained a sacrilegious altar to the Dark Sun, God of Lies. A blood offering and a blasphemous prayer uttered at the altar would grant the supplicant certain dark powers, or so Brother Laurentius wrote.

Bernhardt wasn't interested in dark powers, but felt that the party should visit the shrine so that he could consecrate it. Karven, on the other hand, was very much interested in dark powers, and treasure. Haymond Baler needed some persuading, and Corym hadn't been with the party when they made the deal with Weasel, so he was indifferent to the idea.

The party consulted Shaelie, who didn't know much about the shrine, except that it was something of an myth to the locals. When the party told her about the gremlins and urds and expressed hesitance to return to the burrow, Shaelie said "Well, at least you didn't spit-shake on it." Which, of course, the party had done. Shaelie suggested there could be some cosmological consequences for breaking such a pact, but I was just ribbing the players. I made it clear that they could do whatever they wanted.

Ultimately, they decided to travel overland back to the location where the shrine had sunken, bypassing the gremlins and urds altogether.

The party's route to the sunken shrine

Somebody's Watching

The party set out in the morning for the shrine. They would travel north around the edge of the forest before diving into its heart and making for the shrine. They would attempt to pass directly over the top of the gremlin's lair without being noticed. They still didn't trust Weasel's intentions. The journey would take about three full days.

The first day of their journey brought them up to the edge of the forest. They could press on into the forest for the rest of the day, but that would mean camping in the forest, where there would be a higher chance of random encounters, so they decided to end the day early and camp on the forest's edge. The night passed without incident, and they pressed on the next day.

They ended the second day atop the gremlin's burrow. They didn't see any obvious entrances (remember, the gremlins are tiny), so they decided it was safe to camp there. They set up camp a little way's away, just in case.

During Corym's watch, he got the eerie sense that something was watching him, but couldn't find the culprit. He woke Haymond and let him know. "So you woke me up because you think something might be looking at you?" Haymond irritably asked, then went back to sleep. Corym spent the rest of his watch patrolling the area, his sword drawn. The night passed without incident.

In reality, Corym was being watched by a pseudodragon. 

The pseudodragon's reaction roll was friendly. It's Monstrous Manual entry contains the following details:

The pseudodragon that searches for companionship will stalk a candidate silently for days, reading his thoughts via telepathy, judging his deeds to be good or evil. 

 And:

Pseudodragons have a chameleonlike power that allows them to alter their coloration to blend with their surroundings. They can blend into any typical forest background with an 80% chance of being undetected by creatures which cannot see invisible objects.

 So essentially, I decided that the pseudodragon was curious about the party and their intentions, and would watch them, invisibly, to discern their true nature. If they passed its "test", it would later present itself as a helpful companion.

Red in Hoof and Horn

Later that same night (actually the wee hours of the morning), Haymond was on watch when he heard movement nearby in the forest. He waited cautiously until a small herd of deer appeared, led by a pair of stags. The stags seemed agitated, pawing at the ground with their hooves, shaking their antlers, and grunting at Haymond.

I had rolled that the stags were unfriendly, and decided they were territorial. Haymond tried shooing them away, waving a torch at them, and grunting back. I made a few subsequent reaction rolls, and the stags kept getting more and more ornery. Finally, I got a result of hostile. The stags charged.

Haymond braced his trident to receive the charge, which would grant him a +2 initiative bonus, and double damage if his attack hit. The stags, in turn, would have an Armor Class penalty of 1. Haymond's attack unfortunately missed. One of the stags crashed into him, doing 5 damage. The other one charged past him.

The rest of the party woke to the sound of angry stags trampling through their camp. They gathered themselves quickly and tried to drive them off. The stags' morale broke quickly at the sight of a large campfire and brandished weapons, but it was too late. As they tried to flee, the party cut them down. The rest of the herd fled as soon as the fighting started.

Kind of a dumb encounter, but it was funny. The party rejoiced at the unexpected source of fresh venison.

The Sunken Shrine

By the end of the following day, the party arrived at the shrine. There was a 30-foot pit in the ground. Below, the party could see a floor mosaic of a jawless skull on a purple-black sunburst. Just as they had heard, it seemed as though the entire building had been swallowed up into the earth. Dead gremlins and urds littered the floor, appearing as though they had done battle with one another.

The party lowered a rope and climbed down. A flight of cracked stairs led up to the shrine's entrance. Karven crept inside to check for traps. The far wall had a pair of arches flanked by a trio of seven-foot-tall stone columns, carved to resemble lithe assassins in jawless skull masks. 

The floor was another tiled mosaic like the one outside, but the eye sockets of the skull were iron bowls containing a foul-smelling, murky grey liquid. One of the bowls had cracked, and the liquid had spilled out. The stone around the cracked bowl had somehow turned into putrescent flesh.

Karven did not find any traps, but he did detect a pair of shifting secret doors built into the two archways. He also noticed that the column-statues held razor-sharp swords, coyly concealed behind their outstretched arms. The statues had the edgy dungeon-punk aesthetic of a 4th edition rogue - all superfluous belts and buckles. Karven noticed that one of the center column's belt buckles was actually a button.

Bernhardt followed after Karven and cast find traps. With his magically-augmented trap detection, Bernhardt noted that the statues seemed enchanted. As a cleric, he was able to conclude that the statues were likely magical guardians, enchanted to protect the temple from heathens and do-gooders. There was no obvious means of disabling them.

Karven stood back from the statues and - using a 10-foot pole he had purchased in Grimerun - pressed the button on the center statue. The secret doors opened. Beyond them, the party saw the blasphemous altar they had read about in Brother Laurentius's journal. The altar was surrounded with religious items - treasure! - and long-ago spoiled offerings of food and libations.

The party was certain that the statues would animate and attack if they tried to get into the altar room. They deliberated for some time as to how to disable the statues. Could they topple them? Probably not. Could they slip past them, grab the treasure, and get out? Maybe. Could they smash them with Bernhardt's magic warhammer?

That seemed like the best option to them, so Karven took the hammer and approached the statue on the left to smash it. He struck true, and the impact reverberated through the hammer's haft and rattled the bones in Karven's arms. It felt like the hammer might shatter, but it held true. The statue cracked and chipped, but didn't fall.

Suddenly, the statues brought their swords down to block passage through the archways. They animated, and stepped out of their alcoves. We rolled initiative.

May Thy Knife Chip and Shatter

This was a pretty straightforward, but long, combat. The statues were caryatid columns, which take only half damage from nonmagical weapons. Each time a weapon strikes them, there is a 25% chance that the weapon breaks (-5% for each +1 of a magic weapon). This was only slightly relevant, as most of the party relied on ranged weapon attacks (arrows and such are breaking and getting lost all the time anyway). Karven broke a few daggers, but he's been hoarding them, so it was inconsequential. However, the first time Haymond attacked one of the columns, his trident shattered into a million pieces. He had to retreat and resort to using his sling, instead.

For the most part, the statues attacked the party members closest to the entrance to the true shrine. Once Bernhardt starting casting his cleric spells, the statues turned their attention to him. Corym and Haymond took a few hits, as did Derrell, the druid henchman, but the party was never at risk of losing.

As a side note, the liquid in the iron bowls in this room was actually stone to flesh oil. Caryatid columns can be instantly destroyed by a stone to flesh spell, so I included an oil which duplicates the effect of that spell as a possible clever solution to the problem posed by the statues. I did my best to telegraph the fact that the liquid turned stone to flesh (via the one cracked bowl surrounded by stone tiles that had mysteriously turned into meat - weird!), but for whatever reason, the players never asked any questions about it.

With the statues eventually destroyed, the party looted the treasure inside the altar room. Bernhardt performed some sacred rites to sanctify the altar, and purified the spoiled food and libations surrounding it. The players seemed satisfied that their work here was done, and that's where we ended the session.

I'm happy with the direction this session took. I like to offer the players mechanical incentives for doing evil things, just to see how they react. In this case, there was some discussion about the merits of receiving a dark boon from an evil deity, but ultimately, the party is mostly good, and usually does the good thing. 

I enjoyed the lengthy discussion of how to approach the trapped shrine, even if it dragged on a bit long, and even if the players missed the easy solution which (I thought) was somewhat obvious. I would say that about half the players regularly zone out when we get into the weeds with traps and puzzles, but the other half seems to enjoy them, and I enjoy them too.

Between now and the next session, I have to determine if the gremlins or urds are likely to come across the party before they exit the shrine area. In the back of my mind, I knew that either group was likely to betray the party, even if the party helped them, so I imagine they'd both be pretty peeved to find that the party had gone (literally) over their heads to loot the shrine for themselves. Ultimately, I think they'll probably get away with it.

I'm especially interested to see what happens with the pseudodragon. It's definitely keeping an eye on the party. The butchering of the stags was grisly business, but it wasn't evil to do, I don't think. The pseudodragon would certainly be impressed by the party's rejection of dark boons and the sanctification of the unholy shrine.

All of that is for next session. I imagine the party will return to Grimerun, and then probably travel to Grasshold to deal with the ogres. Or maybe they'll stay in Grimerun and travel next to the City of Oni to rescue the kidnapped villagers. Time will tell.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 12

We played the 12th session of our AD&D 2e campaign last night. The play report for our last session is here.

To briefly recap, the party spent some time in town to recruit henchmen to help them root out the ankheg nest plaguing the halfling village of Grimerun. Ash recruited Derrell, a druid, and Haymond Baler recruited Yuliana, a cleric. The party returned to Grimerun and hired two halfling bounders, Panster Keenblossom and Sylyra Softleaf, to watch their mules, dogs, and supplies while the party went into the ankheg's den.

While camping outside the ankheg's burrow, the party ambushed a pair of ogres who wandered unawares into the party's camp at night. They handled them easily. 

The party descended into the ankheg den and followed a trail which Jakayla, their temporary ranger companion, picked up. They traveled through the tunnels for a full day before needing to rest. 

In the middle of the night, Haymond and Yuliana were ambushed by about a dozen shrieking, stinky gremlins that leapt out of the shadows and attempted to subdue them with tiny clubs. Both Haymond and Yuliana were seriously wounded in the attack, but the party collected themselves and killed most of their attackers, with the few remaining fleeing into the shadows.

Bernhardt Dalton cast some healing spells to aid the wounded in recovering, at which point the party finished their rest.

Pop Goes the Weasel

The next morning, the party left the scene of their nighttime ambush and pressed on ahead. They didn't get far before they heard the sound of dozens of tiny feet scampering about in the walls of the tunnel all around them. The party braced themselves for another attack.

To their surprise, one of the gremlins stepped out into the open, declaring in broken Common that he meant them no harm. The gremlin's name was Weasel, and he apologized for the attack from his fellows the previous evening. They had to "test" the party's "mettle" to see if they might be strong enough to help them.

I rolled another random encounter with gremlins - I think it was 15 this time. Luckily for the party, I rolled a "friendly" reaction, and decided that the gremlins wanted something from them other than a fight.

Weasel explained that his people were at war with another clan of slightly bigger creatures - though still small, in comparison to the party - with wings, who roosted in the tunnels' ceilings and dropped rocks on the gremlins from above. Bernhardt made an Intelligence check and concluded that Weasel was referring to a winged species of kobolds known as urds. He didn't think they would be a problem for the current party to handle.

The gremlins and urds were at war over a "big people shrine" which was once on the surface in the forest above, but had sunken into the earth due to the tunneling of the "armored worms". Both groups had concluded that the shrine held immense wealth from the surface world.

If the party would help Weasel and his people defeat the urds, the gremlins would reward the party with a trove of treasure collected from the armored worms' victims (the armored worms have no use for treasure, so the two groups sneak into their nest for loot and fight over that, too).

I had already determined when prepping this adventure that there was conflict between the gremlins and urds. Any time more than one type of intelligent creature is found in a dungeon or other adventure environment, I try to determine their relationship with each other, usually with opposed reaction rolls. In this case, both groups were hostile towards each other, and the shrine was right between their two lairs, so I decided that it was the cause of their hostility. When I rolled a friendly reaction for the gremlins, I knew instantly what they were after.

Bernhardt was secretly motivated to investigate the sunken shrine himself. Haymond did not want to trust the gremlin, but gave in to the rest of the party. They told Weasel that they were here to kill the armored worms - they taught him the word "ankheg" - and asked if he could show them where the nest was. If he did, they would help him. Weasel agreed, and proceeded to lead the party in that direction. 

It was difficult for Weasel, as a tiny creature, to scramble over all the roots and rocks in the tunnel, so he asked if he could ride along on one of the big people's shoulders. Bernhardt said yes, and Weasel climbed aboard, delighted by how tall he now was. The gremlin smelled awful, and sang a vulgar little song in his own language, kicking his feet with delight.

A tiny, friendly, smelly little monster should always ask to ride on a larger person's shoulders or head. The party will agonize for several minutes over who is willing to actually grant such a request.

They're Coming Outta the Goddamn Walls!

After almost another full day of traveling, the party reached a large, open cavern, honeycombed with tunnels and smelling of rotten fruit. In a depression in the center of the cavern was a mound of small, dead ankhegs, plus the corpses of wildlife, farmers, and foresters. The heap of bodies was bristling with insect eggs, which were coated in glistening acidic slime.

The party decided that the eggs had to be destroyed, and wished they had brought some flasks of oil. Weasel protested, saying that the eggs were delicious and that the party should try eating them, or at the very least bring them to the gremlins' lair for a proper feast. The party was not enthused. Bernhardt cast bless on the party in anticipation of a fight. Bless grants everyone in a 50-foot cube +1 to attack rolls, saving throws vs fear, and morale checks.

Karven Stone threw a handful of darts at the eggs, which wriggled when struck, then burst into slime. The party heard movement in the tunnels around them, and decided to move into the large cavern to avoid being ambushed in a tight space. They could hear large creatures converging on the cavern from the surrounding tunnels. They readied themselves to attack. Weasel hid in a hole. Bernhardt cast aid on Yuliana (which doubles the effect of bless and grants d8 temporary hit points), and Derrell cast shillelagh.

An adult ankheg emerged from the northwest. Karven threw a few darts at it and Yuliana fired with her sling. Before the bug could react, it was dead. 

Another emerged to the east, and Ash moved to attack it. He missed. Since one ankheg was already dead, I made a morale check for this one (-4 for being outnumbered 3-to-1, -2 because the ankhegs had already lost 25% of their numbers, -2 because none of the party had been slain yet, +1 for a defensive terrain advantage, and +3 because the ankhegs were defending their lair, so -4 overall). The ankheg failed its morale check. I had decided that if they lost half their hit points or failed a morale check, the ankhegs would use their acid (which they can only use once every six hours, so it's reserved for desperate situations only) and retreat into the tunnels. Since this was their lair and they were protecting their eggs, they wouldn't flee - they would just retreat and emerge elsewhere to make a more advantageous attack.

The ankheg spewed acid at Ash, who failed his save vs poison, taking a whopping 19 points of damage. He had 12 hit points left. The ankheg turned and fled, so Ash attacked it, dealing about half its hit points in damage.

Another ankheg emerged from the northeast. Haymond charged it and missed. It also failed its morale check, so it spewed acid at Haymond. He successfully saved versus poison, taking just 6 damage. Haymond attacked the ankheg as it fled, again dealing about half its hit points in damage.

Game Over, Man! Game Over!

Finally, the ankheg queen emerged to the south. This one was huge - about 15 feet long. I decided that it wouldn't make morale checks. It would die defending its eggs. Seeing Ash covered in acid and brought to a knee, the queen attacked him. Ash was caught in the queen's mandibles, which crushed him and burned him with acid. He took another 10 damage, dropping him to 2 hit points, and he was trapped in the ankheg's jaws unless he or someone else could pry him loose, or the ankheg was slain.

The party moved to surround the queen. One of the wounded ankhegs emerged behind Haymond to attack, and the other targeted the henchmen, Sheyla and Yinvalur Sparkguard, preventing these three from focusing on the queen. The rest of the party landed some hits on the queen, but she hardly seemed to notice. Ash fought desperately, but was unable to escape.

On the queen's turn, Ash took damage from the mandibles and acid automatically, since he was still trapped. He took another 16 points of damage, killing him instantly (our house rule is death at -10 hit points for player characters - Ash was at -14). The party watched in horror as Ash's body was cut in half. The ankheg sprayed digestive acid over his body, melting flesh from bone, then slurped up the liquified elf like soup. It turned to face the rest of the party, who had been attacking it from behind, and spewed Ash's sizzling bones all over them.

Immediate morale checks for the henchmen were in order. Despite having a +3 bonus (+1 for aid, +1 for bless, and +1 for being Good-aligned), Yuliana failed. She began screaming like Hudson from Aliens (how could I resist?) and turned to flee. The ankheg queen attacked her and seized her in its jaws. If not for the bonus hit points from aid, she would be dead immediately (the dead at -10 rule doesn't apply to NPCs).

Bernhardt beseeched everyone else not to run. The remaining NPCs passed their morale checks and pressed the attack. I gave Ash's player access to Derrell's character sheet so that he could keep playing - it's what henchmen are for!

The two smaller ankhegs missed their attacks and attempted to flee again. Haymond slew one as it fled, and Yinvalur the other. It was now Yinvalur's turn, and since he has specialization with the longsword, he would have two attacks this round (specialization at low levels grants three attacks every two rounds, so one attack on the first and two on the second). It was time for everyone to be amazed by the chad elf NPC.

Yinvalur ran over to the ankheg queen and attacked twice. He hit once and landed a crit with his second attack. The first attack did 14 damage (he rolled an 11 on d12 and gets +1 damage from Strength and +2 from specialization) and the second did 21 (he rolled two 9s on 2d12). I kid not, the queen had exactly 34 hit points remaining. She was dead.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed that the 1st-level henchman upstaged the player characters here, but the players didn't seem to mind. Yuliana would have been dead next turn, and any one of them could have been next.

The ankheg queen collapsed, and Yuliana wriggled free from its jaws.

Looting the Lair

The party went about smashing the ankheg's eggs, much to Weasel's dismay. While Haymond hacked up the ankheg carcasses for their shells, Bernhardt searched the pile of bodies, and Karven snuck over to (the lower half of) Ash's body to see what he had. Luckily, his coin purse was still there, which Karven nabbed while no one was looking. Ash wouldn't be needing it now. Then, Karven harvested the acid from the two ankhegs who hadn't managed to use it during the battle.

Haymond used some rope to secure the ankheg carcasses so that the party could drag them back through the tunnels on their return trip. Bernhardt collected some sentimental trinkets from the corpses in the pile, with the intent of returning them to the victims' families in Grimerun. Among the bodies was what appeared to be a cleric. Though the body was badly eaten by acid, Bernhardt could make out on its tabard a symbol of a jawless skull on a purple and black sunburst. With an Intelligence check (with a hefty bonus for being a cleric), he was able to identify it as the symbol of the Dark Sun, the Chaotic Evil God of Lies (Cyric, in the Forgotten Realms pantheon, which again, I use for its generic D&D-ness). 

On the body was some treasure, including a bejeweled eyepatch worth 3,000 gold. Bernhardt also found an acid-eaten journal, which he decided he would read when he had some downtime. 

Weasel tried to convince the party to accompany him to his home, but they preferred to return to Grimerun first. They asked the gremlin to give them an idea where his lair was, as well as the location of the shrine and the lair of the urds, which he did. They said they would return via the surface and reunite with Weasel in order to lend the gremlins their aid, as promised. Weasel demanded to shake on it, and spit a big gross loogie into his hand. Bernhardt reluctantly shook his tiny, slimy hand.

Getting Back

The party turned back the way they came. It would take them the rest of the day, plus another day and half to get back. 

On their first night camping in the tunnels, Bernhardt heard a voice calling to him from a tunnel in the ceiling above. One of the urds had found them. Its reaction was indifferent, so it simply engaged in small talk (in this case, I totally forgot that the urd wouldn't speak Common, and the party would likely have a hard time communicating with it - oh well).

The urd asked what they were doing, and seemed impressed that they had killed the armored worms. It asked if they had met the "puny, stinky" gremlins, to which Bernhardt responded in the affirmative. They had been attacked by the gremlins and had killed them - he left out the deal with Weasel. 

The urd seemed delighted by this, remarking that it was fun to drop big rocks on the gremlins' heads and watch them burst like melons. Afterwards, apparently, the urds lay their eggs in the headless corpses. Whether or not this is true is unclear - I just thought it would be a disgusting little detail to add on the fly.

Since the urd wasn't friendly, it did not invite the party back to its lair or attempt to recruit them in the war against the gremlins. It simply talked with them for a bit and then left, but at least now the party has met the other faction. Before it could leave, Bernhardt asked who their leader was, and got a name - Zabu.

On their second night camping, Karven heard another voice - this time a gremlin - calling out to him. These ones were unfriendly, so they demanded that Karven hand over all his gold, or else they'd "call the worms on him". Karven informed the gremlins that the worms were dead - the party had killed them. The gremlins didn't believe him. Karven namedropped Weasel, and the gremlins' demeanor changed. "Oh, you know Weasel? You gonna help us get those nasty winged jerks? You know they drop rocks on our heads and lay their eggs in our headless bodies? Well I guess you're alright then. Sorry for bothering you." Karven tossed the gremlins a gold piece and they scampered off into the dark.

On the last day of traveling back, the party noticed some stalactites hanging down from the ceiling above, which was odd - they had come this exact way before, and there weren't any stalactites. Haymond was suspicious, so he stood back and slung a stone at one of them. He hit it, and the "stalactite" trembled and fell to the ground. Suddenly, an eye blinked open on its side, staring at Haymond. The party noticed the rest of the stalactites on the ceiling slowly shuffling towards them.

Since piercers are so slow, and the primary "dramatic question" of an encounter with them is simply whether the party notices them or not, I ruled that the party could simply wait for an opening to run quickly past them, which they did. If we weren't close to our ending time, I might have wanted to spend more time on it, but it seemed inconsequential. 

With that, the party finally made it back to the entrance to the burrow. They had paid the halfling bounders for three days of work, and it had been five days by now, so I made a couple of morale checks to see if they had stuck around or returned to Grimerun. They passed both checks, so they were still there waiting for the party, although they were worried, had nearly left. Panster reminded the party that they were owed two days' pay.

With that, we ended the session. The party earned a chunk of experience points for the fight with the ankhegs and for finishing the quest, but still no one leveled up. Next time, they'll return to Grimerun, collect their reward, and decide what to do next. They might keep their word and return to help Weasel and the gremlins, mainly because they want to investigate the shrine themselves, or they might investigate the City of Oni to see about rescuing villagers who were kidnapped by hobgoblins and taken there. In either case, it seems they'll be in Grimerun for a bit.

Ash's player is working on a new character, and is currently planning on playing an elf fighter/mage. He asked about playing a bladesinger, which I'm not enthusiastic about, because I don't want to open the 2e splatbook floodgates. He asked if maybe bladesinging is something he could learn from a quest, or an ability he could acquire through a magic item, and I quite like that idea. Maybe he could find a bladesinging sword which unlocks those abilities for him. Something to think about.

Overall, I found this to be a very enjoyable session, with delightful roleplaying, weird little guys, and an intense combat which quickly swung in the players' favor after seeming for a moment like it could be disastrous. 

That seems to be a pattern in 2e, at least how I've been running it. No encounter has felt like it had a foregone conclusion. In the early stages, the players are often fearing for their characters' lives, but they're usually only a fortuitous roll of a die away from triumph. It's been very satisfying. We'll see if their luck holds up.