Moral and Actual Bankruptcy

“What do you mean ‘Danté’s dead’?!”

The two old men bristle at each-other, each one blaming the other for the far away failure of a third old man.

“Exactly as it sounds. Our secret deal with the Assassin has ended in abject failure.”

Dunning and Kruger have never particularly liked each-other or had any respect for the other’s opinions. Both men originally sought the Stowanian crown for themselves and then, after Urdurel’s peace offer, both men thought that they’d be the first choice to be his named successor in place of his murdered daughter and disavowed son. 

It’s fifty years later now though, fifty years of weaselly sycophancy and slyly currying favour. Decades of promoting their own self interest, while actively undermining each-other. Despite both men holding positions of great influence and prestige within the country, second only to Lord Urdurel himself, that promise of absolute power is still, frustratingly, beyond either of their reach.

The initial speaker; Dunning, whispers a second question.

“Do they know we were behind the attack at the border?”

Kruger purses his already wrinkled lips.

“No. No, I don’t think so. Danté’s association with the Witches is smokescreen enough.”

Both old men fall silent for a moment before Kruger continues.

“If we don’t find a way to stop Urdurel, he’s going to bankrupt the whole Kingdom. The army is swelling to a size that the realm can ill afford to pay for long and he’s sent those adventurers off to offer full payment for that ridiculous prison tower, plus interest, to the Gnomes of Ambergis!”

Dunning responds with an equally bleak tone.

“Poison’s failed repeatedly and, unless we find another way to… stop him, there’ll soon be nothing left for either of us to inherit, even if those accursed demons are beaten back.”

Danté’s Poisonous Legacy

After using up every healing spell he had on his Halfling and Human friends, Rifkin watches Banaal drag back the lead assassin’s corpse. Up close, the man looks near to seventy, despite his recent movements seeming to be that of a much younger man. His black, leather armour is weirdly oily to the touch and obviously magic of some sort… Probably the reason why Liga Bur’s entangling spell was so ineffectual. Likewise his dagger; the twin of the one Fortu had already retrieved by the waterfront. This one’s a lot cooler though; temperature wise. There’s also, several vials and a translucent glass-like wand. Both of which, because of what he’d seen, the Bard can guess at.

Human sized Leather armour +1 (slick improved)

Two +3 medium sized magic Daggers

Five vials of Blue Whinnis poison

Wand of Webs

160gp

Plus:

Twenty-six +1 ‘Flaming’ Crossbow bolts

Fourteen Masterwork daggers and 140gp combined taken from the Assassin corpses.

Kicking Ass(assin)

EVERYTHING’S GONE WRONG!!!

Old-man Danté can barely believe his own eyes!

Somehow his entire plan had collapsed, like a crooked house of cards, in less than a minute!

After seemingly defeating the Halfling Druid, his air-support Witch; Mallophor had fled, due to the concentrated crossbow fire of the Zinerian guards. 

The same local guards that had miraculously beaten four of his invisible Assassins!

Then the big, heavily armoured Fighter had somehow managed to swim from the mid-river moored barge to his shore, undetected before chopping down half-a-dozen of his men!

Still, Danté felt confident.

All but two of the adventurers were marooned onboard the sinking barge and of the other two, one was dead (or hiding) in the water and the other was being worn down by his remaining men. A flapping, summoned Hippogryph had been a distraction but his men had made relatively short work of it.

Then though, when he’d committed to dispatching the Fighter himself, the man hadn’t fallen! Despite cleverly slipping his enchanted blade through a small gap in the warrior's octopus-styled plate-mail. Despite his hard won skills and murderous intent, the darkly armoured man had somehow managed to twist away, just enough, to save his kidneys from the killing stroke!

Danté couldn’t believe it!

Even his precious poison had failed to affect the bastard-sword swinging annoyance!

After evading another flaming pillar, Danté steps back into his conjured fog bank and, from his wand, casts a net of thick, sticky webs as he passes. If the Fighter is confident enough to enter this obscured area, he’ll be caught up and stopped regardless.

His men are lost now, but no matter; he can always recruit and train more. The priority now is to escape. Turning invisible, despite the slash he’d gotten from the Fighter, he smiles. No-one can stop him now…

Suddenly root-like tendrils wriggle from the ground, trying to grab at him, but despite his agility boosting buffs being, somehow dispelled, he’s still fast enough to tip-toe through this new impediment. It might actually slow the wretched Fighter down even more.

As he clears the end of the fog-bank, Danté glances back over his shoulder. No-one’s following. Unseen now, he makes his way up the slope and into the mountain pass. Eighteen seconds and he’ll be out of the accursed adventurers’ reach.

Suddenly a crossbow bolt creases his invisible shoulder!

Spinning around in disbelief, just for a moment he sees the Dwarf Cleric, crossbow raised, clear of the fog-bank, behind him, before he disappears from sight!

How’s the Dwarf seeing him? How’s he moving through the grabbing weeds? Why wasn’t he caught by his conjured webs?!

Danté tries to run but the traitorous ground continues to drag at his heels!

Then the Dwarf; Banaal reappears, even closer now and shoots him again!

This time the bolt draws blood!

Looking back over his shoulder, the invisible Assassin feels ice-cold fear trickle down his old spine.

His feet are clear now and he’s just six seconds from the turn but, with a sinking feeling, he knows he’s not going to make it.

This wasn’t fair! 

He’d worked so hard! 

Waited so long! 

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down!!!

Subotage

Coordinating their actions with the sudden snagging of the barge mid-river, the two young Assassins screw their time-release devices directly onto the underside of the Spinning Jenny’s hull. It’s a difficult underwater task, but the Witch bestowed ‘water-breathing’ potions make it eminently possible and they’ve drilled for this mission in more ways than one. The very act of securing these two delayed release items in place, alerts the passengers above but all they need is about half a minute.

The small screw holes consequently allow river water to seep up onto the barge’s flat bottom but at a rate unlikely to alarm or much reduce the ferry’s buoyancy or speed. The screw holes though, are merely a precursor of what’s to come.

After a thumbs up gesture to each-other, the two Assassins release their grips from under the hull and allow the current of the river to carry them clear of the boat. Although still underwater, they can see their Witch air-support exchanging magical bolts of energy with an eagle. An eagle who’s obviously the Halfling Druid shape-changer they’d been forewarned about.

Flaming crossbow bolts also continue to rain down on the barge from their teammates on the Agentian side of the river. Their plan is working, despite a few wrinkles…

The armoured knight is in the water but somehow not drowning and striking surprisingly fast towards the far side, where their leader; Danté is standing.

Exchanging looks, the two submerged young men gesture frantically to each other. Should they continue to drift to safety or chase after the man they know as; Fortu?

Just then a terrific splash pulls their attention. The Druid-eagle; Liga Bur has taken a flaming bolt from one of their teammates’ crossbows and fallen into the water.

Then, just as the timer was set for, the two bombs under the barge explode! Their upward facing charges, momentarily lifts the barge up off the water and blasts two huge holes in the flat hull, sending wooden splinters into everyone standing nearby. 

The horses shriek as they rear and strain against their tethered reins, the two dogs struggle to obey their master’s instructions and Rifkin and the Ferry-woman; Jane are injured. Only the sturdy Dwarf-priest; Banaal, his stubborn Mule and the huge, black Warhorse seem unfazed.

The two submerged Assassins grin and high-five each-other.

Nothing could go wrong now!

D&D is Confusing and Difficult to Schedule

Last weeks session ended up mostly being about finishing off the complicated, multiple combatant, river crossing encounter. Good fun but exhausting. It ended with Fortu, Liga Bur and Banaal doggedly hunting down the badly injured but invisible and cunning; Danté. Fortunately for the Party, Banaal’s magical cloak gives him the ability to become ethereal and therefore see other invisible, ethereal creatures. I took that to mean that he could therefore see ALL invisible creatures.

After reading the rules however, I discovered that it doesn’t actually allow for that.

So, as a group, do we decide to double down on my error and allow all invisible characters and creatures to see each-other for the remainder of the campaign or accept Banaal’s observation of Danté was just a strange (possibly god given) glitch in our shared fantasy?

As for the next session, are any of you, all of you free for the morning of any of these weekend dates?

July

Saturday the 4th

Sunday the 5th

Saturday the 11th

Sunday the 12th

Saturday the 18th

Sunday 19th

Let me know if and when you’re available in this month as soon as you can and I’ll get to work building the next set of glue and cardboard traps encounters.

Thanks boys for the quickie response. Sunday the 19th of July is our mutually selected game-date. Now, will it be another massively complicated and overblown combat encounter or maybe just a talky-talky one? I’ve got four weeks to think about it and then four days to actually write something down!

Dwarvine Intervention

Everything happened so fast and Captain Lynchin mentally curses himself for lulling so completely. He’d been warned of a possible attack but years of small town complacency had dulled his instincts and now, because of it, his friend lies dead. Poor Freddie; the ferryman barely got the chance to realise what’d happened to him, before he’d crumpled to the shingle covered ground, blood gushing from both his belly and back. The Assassin had literally appeared out of thin-air and driven his shortsword all the way in through his kidneys and out through his guts. The self-same grinning Assassin, who now stands, fully revealed, over Freddie’s still life-blood leaking corpse, laughing manically!

Ordering his four men to attack, they too are immediately ambushed and assaulted by three more of the lying-in-wait, invisible Assassins. Captain Lynchin bares his white teeth and draws his Longsword to join the fray before his (caught flat-footed) men are also slaughtered, but then… A miracle!

All of his men and all four of the, now revealed, Assassins are bathed in a wide circle of golden light. A glow that merely warms him and his men but somehow, causes the Assassins to writhe and scream in agony, giving him and his men the chance they need to finish the job.

Soon all four of the Assassins on his bank are dead and Freddy revenged, but the battle is far from finished. Looking over at the Spinning Jenny, Captain Lynchin sees that the barge is already on fire and taking barrage after barrage of flaming crossbow bolts from the opposite side of the river. 

The Dwarven war-priest Banaal makes momentary eye contact and gives a curt nod of affirmation, as he simultaneously summons a deluge of water from above to extinguish the oily, burning canopy above, before turning his attention to the remaining Assassins on the Argentian bank.

It’s only then that Captain Lynchin realises that it was the Dwarven priest that had saved his life; his life and the lives of all four of his men. That the only reason he’s not lying dead beside his friend; Freddy, is due to the Dwarven priest; Banaal’s divine intervention!

Dante’s Ravine Hideaway

Leading a battalion of sixty well armed and armoured men, the slate haired and stone faced; Captain Ash closes in on the location garnered from the local (but barely tolerated) Thieve’s guild by the surprisingly helpful adventurer; Fortu. 

The camp had supposedly been in a ravine, just a day-and-a-half’s ride North from the Capital and the adventurers’ intel had proven itself to be accurate, as two of Captain Ash’s outriders had triggered defensive warning traps.

Near fatal defensive warning traps!

More serious, their element of surprise was gone.

Lord Urdurel’s orders were clear though; there’d be no turning back at this point. Pressing on cautiously, Captain Ash leads his men further down the valley, until they come within sight of the Assassins’ tree hidden camp. 

On foot now with shields raised, they circle the camp and simultaneously advance from three directions, with two of his trusted sergeants commanding the other two twenty man squads, but the resistance they expect, doesn’t come.

His soldiers encounter a few more defensive traps but no people; no servants, no Assassins. Despite it only being two days since they’d been given this ‘secret’ information, the camp was empty. By the look of the place, the Assassins had left in a hurry, but despite it only being recently abandoned, the mission, his mission, was still an abject failure.

Worse; where had all the Assassins slunk off to, what were they planning and who were they currently attempting to murder?

Captain Ash scowls.

“Someone warned them we were coming. Someone high enough up in our government and party to our internal military messages. The only possible conclusion is that there’s a spy high up in the inner circle. A traitor…. Lord Urdurel is not going to react to this news well.”

Finaghan Begins Again

Lounging in the back-room of the (formerly secret) bar, his feet still casually up on the desk, the head of the Stowanian Thieves’ guild, watches the Dwarf, the Halfling, the demi-Elf and the armoured Human walk back up the wooden stairs and out of his (now compromised) hideout.

It had taken Finaghan decades of lying and scheming to claw his way up to being named head of the Cottis Thieves’ guild. Dante’s recent splinter group of Assassins though, had rapidly become a painful thorn in his side. A thorn that the four Adventurers had kindly volunteered to tweeze out for him. Not just offered, but paid him fifty gold pieces for the privilege!

A paltry sum considering, but the feeble bribe still tickled him.

Dante had always been… difficult, arrogant, always chaffing against his authority, but with the resurgence of the Witches, his attitude had shifted into something much more… condescending. It hadn’t been long before the older man had poached a large slew of his Thieves’ guild minions for his competitive Assassins’ guild. Nearly a quarter of his members!

A loss in number that had greatly diminished his influence and the guilds’ power. Mostly though, it was a personal and professional slight that Finaghan couldn’t let stand.

Allowing Fortu and his adventurer friends to take care of this… problem, also overcame the sanction against guilds working openly against other guilds.

Finaghan smiles. Losing a lowly lookout and having to establish a new base of operations, is a small price to pay for getting rid of ‘old-man’ Dante. With him gone, most of his traitorous ex-Thieves’ guild members will come cringing and scurrying back.

He might even allow them to rejoin… after a certain amount of grovelling and an additional ‘buy-back-in’ fee.

Shouting over to one of his trusted barmen, Finaghan calls out.

“Bring over a fresh bottle of rum. The best we have; I feel like pre-celebrating a certain forthcoming victory!”

Bitter but Better

‘Old man’ Dante had trained in isolation for decades; angry and unfulfilled. Years ago, after a stellar start in the Assassins guild, under instruction of the Witches and more experienced Assassins, he’d been promised power and the freedom to inflict pain whenever and wherever he went. He cared nothing for the head hag; Hetzabah’s plans to take over Lord Urdurel’s kingdom, as long as he could torture and kill whoever he wanted to.

Although still very young at the time, he was a gifted sadist and there, for a change, his overtly psychopathic tendencies were a blessing rather than a ‘problem’. Then, just when it was getting really good, it all fell apart. 

After Hetzabah successfully duped the still mourning Lord Urdurel into a quick second marriage, the Assassins working under Megarna had an extremely good year, but then the hag became overconfident in her control over Urdurel. After the birth of her son; Briefadel, Hetzabah ordered her Assassins to murder his teenage daughter, Lamenta to clear the line of ascension. Lord Urdurel loved his daughter and her death unclouded his mind just enough to throw off her thrall. He then sent hundreds of his men after her and all of her minions.

The Witches who weren’t captured and killed; scattered to the neighbouring lands. The same happened to the Assassins. Everything was lost. All of Dante’s masters were killed or gone, leaving him to fend for himself. Find work for himself and join the lesser Thieves’ guild. He had been forced to secretly train himself in the Assassin arts. It hadn’t been easy and learning the hidden tricks, skills and spells of his original order had been near impossible. He’d spent years researching when he could have been, should have been, out there killing.

Still, fifty years later, Megarna had finally reformed her coven and recruited all the wannabe Assassins her underlings could find. Young, poorly trained, eager idiots mostly but it did, at least, give him the chance to train/torment a host of willing fools and show off his hard earned skills, whilst simultaneously creating a new Assassins’ guild. It also, finally and ironically, enabled him to use his covert, decades won, shadowy abilities out in the open.

Witches get Stitches

The middle-aged Witch cackles manically, as she soars away ‘side-saddle’ atop her traditional flying besom. The broom, the pointy hat, the black dress and even her precious black cat, make her resemble the classic image of a Witch. Mallophor was never one for this cliché but the costume was one of Megarna’s conditions for joining her coven. A ‘forced’ decision that, despite her apparent bravado, she’s currently having serious doubts about, even as the distance between her and the adventurers increases.

The river ambush plan had been some-what elaborate but its execution, in practice, should have been simple.

Four of the Assassins hid invisibly in the dry area beneath the pier, ready to slink out and kill the ferry-wheel operator and secure the mule and barge tether control wheel.

Two Assassins, by the use of water-breathing potions, were hiding beneath the barge with hull boring and sabotage tools.

The slightly-less-than-hinged; Dante, having already killed the Agentian bank’s ferry-wheel controller and replaced him in a reasonable (from-a-distance) disguise, was to stop the boat mid-river, effectively mooring the barge and snagging the adventurers between the two shores.

Then, his hidden men would launch a barrage of magical flaming crossbow bolts to ignite the barge’s already oil-soaked canopy. This would frighten the horses onboard and hopefully distract the trapped adventurers, while the ten South-bank and four East-bank Assassins peppered the front-facing and back-facing Adventurers with additional repeated flaming crossbow bolt attacks.

Her task was simply to circle invisibly above until the Halfling shape-shifter flew into the air and then target him exclusively until he fell, was dead or fled. 

No plan survives past first contact but Mallophor had been surprised by how quickly this one had fallen apart.

The Dwarf, with his divine and targeted magic, managed to help the town Captain and his four men, overcome their invisible Assassins AND drench the burning barge canopy, extinguishing the fire.

The heavily armoured Human actually dived into the water and, more surprisingly, swam quickly and confidently to the opposite bank.

And the Halfling, as expected, flew up to assess the situation from a bird’s eye perspective. An easy target in avian form but she had not expected him to fight back so fiercely or effectively.

Despite that, Mallophor would have gleefully traded spells with him a little longer, but she was now also under attack from, thanks to the Dwarven war-priest’s interference, the now unopposed Captain Lynchin and his men. 

Already injured and unable to long withstand assaults from both Liga Bur’s lightning and the Stowanian soldier’s crossbow bolts, she leaves the insane but effective, Dante and his remaining, expendable men to fend for themselves.