Therewolves of Allegany

The Assemblage ship that ICE captured was much like the previous one, an independent operation with a captain that was bewitched by some heinous warlock. We cured him of his affliction and recruited him to aid us against his offenders in... uh... some way as yet to be determined.

What now? The pirate island stronghold was attracting hooks left and right. Slaid believed he could just waltz in there and convince everyone to love him. I was skeptical. We figured it'd take a while to scout out the pirate town anyway so we'd take a shot at that in downtime. Meanwhile, there were local hooks to look into, the winner of the lottery being the werewolf farm that had gone rogue from the Assemblage. Maybe there were allies there against them?

Wagons loaded and horses mounted and dogs leashed and snakes in baskets and all the other ridiculous things we do as adventurers done, we showed up to the farm ready for action. I held the reserve while the bulk of the party advanced on the dilapidated property. Slaid knocked and attempted to serve the occupants a completely fictitious warrant but was met only with an ominous warning growl. Guygiss snuck around back and discovered a busted open rear entry. He waited for some action to start to cover his approach.

The reserve spotted some wolves prowling from a nearby field to the rear of the building and warned the group, who mostly ignored it. See, we travel in a party of like 20+, but it does no good to stack 20 on the single entry of a building, which we were about to demonstrate in live time.

Slaid and Sloane busted the door open and came face to face with a clutch of werewolves, massive canines with sinister intelligence and brutal slavering maws ready to chomp chomp chomp their faces off. That contact made some racket so Guygiss approached the rear door. Unfortunately, he also ran into some waiting werewolves and he was once again all by his lonesome and outnumbered.

The reserve cast some buff spells and mounted up, intent on cutting off the enemy reinforcements, while the crew at the front door tried to fight their way in and Guygiss tried to survive. Through magic, poison, and luck, the little not-elf kept it going long enough to get relieved. The battle in the front was like a clown car of werewolves, more showing up from the interior of the building every time one was killed.

I was able to lockdown a few of them on a flank and after a while we chewed through their surprisingly dense ranks. Most of the leveled party was in the danger zone for lycanthropy and Sloane had had her arm broken by one of the massive jaws. Unfortunately we captured no prisoners nor rescued any hostages. These guys were just lean, mean killing machines. We did get a heap of treasure for our trouble.

Next up? Pirate island.

Musings:

We concentrated most of our force on the front door of the building, but with the place locked up tight and the only ingress on that side blocked by werewolves, we were unable to force an entry to put figurative spears on target. It took some time and effort to reposition for effect. We discovered later that we could breach the relatively flimsy planking of the structure's walls. We could have also probably used the window on that side. We'll want to consider things like this for the future as that could have really changed what turned out to be our toughest battle yet.

This is the second time recently that Guygiss has found himself isolated and outnumbered. He came out better this time, but he's going to want to hone his flanking tactics before he bites off more than he can chew. Part of that is luck, part of it the superior senses of the creatures we've been fighting.

I play an awful lot of Theatre of the Mind gaming, where the DM holds the objective truth of the scenario and the other participants have a kind of shared imagining of positioning and such. This works out fine with simple scenarios, small parties, online gaming, etc. At our live table, we've got a big grid and it can be fun to lay out a battle and get tactical. We did so this time and were able to illuminate some of the quirks of the battle map.

Of particular note was the zone of control around a figure, that is to say the space that a combatant threatens that restricts enemy movement. ACKS is designed with this style of fight in mind, pages written with specifics about tactical combat that are fun, if time consuming compared to AD&D, to apply. We carefully exploited and also botched this specific rule throughout the fight in tight doorways, hallways, and other chokepoints, but still had a lot of fun. 

Enter the Nobiran (AFN 2)

Our world is set on its proper course by the Empyrean gods of Law and Light. The winds of Chaos and tides of human failings struggle to divert us, but we will persevere. My name is Mikel and it is my calling to maintain this path and inspire others to do the same.

I joined the Sundowners at the Sisters' Gate after they'd suffered yet another casualty in the war against darkness and poverty. There was a nearby lair filled with goblins and undead that the group was insistent would prove filled with riches if they could only crack the nut.

We delved and swatted away some flies with torches, only to be ambushed by goblins across the rancid stream of filth that ran down the center of the place. I do not quail in the face of evil, but courage alone doesn't leap a wide gap and I fell in. After a brief fight with a handful of the monsters, we were victorious, if a little smelly. Unfortunately one of our robed men had taken a goblin arrow to the hand and we had to retreat.

I learned soon after that the gods had had a direct hand in our party's future by way of a Quest put upon the fighting man Julius, a crude, albeit tough, thug that wielded a wicked morning star in the party's name. Apparently while under care of the Sisters, he had assaulted a healer over some perceived slight to his pride. The Abbess Quested him to retrieve relics of holy significance from an abandoned monastery instead of taking a hand. She is merciful. They also lashed him. She is just.

I sought out Sir Cedric and prayed a vigil before we set out towards this new goal, something actually worthy of our efforts. I hope Julius will come to appreciate the mercy he'd been shown but I suspect he will continue to rant, rave, and cuss at the world for being... the world. 

Shortly after we were waylaid by highwaymen. Severely outnumbered and outmatched, Arnth nevertheless convinced one of them to duel him in exchange for letting us pass. Unfortunately the brigand just rode him down with his lance which reminded me to harden my heart against scoundrels and bandits and only offer chivalry to the chivalrous. Arnth was taken as a slave, they took what loot they could carry from our pack animal, and we went on our way. If our paths cross in the future, I intend righteous vengeance, but the reality is that I'm not likely to see the bold Arnth again.

We found a train of wagons abandoned and filled with the dead and dying being feasted on by monstrous spiders and dispatched them, recovering the caravan leader named Angelus. Maria stabilized him but he needed rest. We gathered what we could while Flavius led a group to hunt down the missing horses. 

While they searched I led Etienne in a burial detail for the remaining bodies after giant ants carried a few off. Unfortunately, dire wolves showed up and interrupted us. I showed them no fear and they respected our boundary, but they also ate the rest of the unburied. We did what we could.

When the away team returned with the draft horses, we were able to get a few wagons going, but one required a man in a yoke to help pull. To the shock of many, I volunteered for the first duty. There were some assumptions made because of my bloodline that I was above common work, but that's no example to set, and we shared the task among the stronger men until we made contact with another caravan a few days later.

They were concerned about carrying on into bandit country and one of the merchants offered to loan us a horse if we'd escort him back to town. We happily agreed and for once caught a break, limping into Trenova with Angelus as an ally to grease any diplomatic concerns.

From here we intend to carry on our righteous quest, but I would not be surprised if we were interrupted early and often. I only pray for the strength to overcome the trials ahead.

Mikel the Nobrian
25th of Riddens, 28th Year of King Decius' Reign - Town of Trenova

Musings:

I've run and played a lot of ACKS, but my personal style has historically been one of Lazy DMing. In this instance, my habit of ignoring things that I find boring. I am thankful that Arb is an expert in the system and our caller North has the motivation to engage in the market simulation portion of the game. My chops in that area are limited because I've usually made someone else deal with it. I intend to continue that habit. I quite like that there is so much meat on the bone with ACKS but I also recognize that not every subsystem of the game is fun for everyone. It really does take all kinds to run an ACKS party.

I'm on my 4th? 5th? PC so far. The hex crawl at 1st level hasn't been kind, but neither has that lair/dungeon outside the Sisters' Gate or really anything else in this bloody campaign. We've laughed about how unlucky this party is. I hope that turns around sometime soon. We need a little momentum. Maybe this Nobiran will signal a change.

We're settling into a good pattern with Arb, an easy exchange of abstracted input and output that gives way to detailed interactions when folks have the energy to engage more fully. I'm interested in exploring the knightly orders we keep running up against, so far Rora of the Merciful Bear and Therin of the Honorable Eagle. We need to be able to hang a little reputation on our shoulders to make any of that mean anything though.

Maybe I'll even get to write a session report from the same character's perspective.

31 Flavors of Justice

The Chaotic shadow organization called The Assemblage was reeling from our successes against them. They sent messages to threaten us and even sent a guy to wrap up loose ends by shutting down the remaining local operations and disappearing any leftover operatives. We flipped the script on them and bagged their regional manager of loose end snipping. Here's what happened.

Sloane, Slaid, and Vylas had a wealth of hooks to choose from for adventure, but the nagging Assemblage activity won out for session. Instead of chasing treasure maps or mountain temples, we opted to hunt the hunters locally after they threatened Sloane's mom's bakery The Muffin Top. Mom ain't in the game, she's off limits.

We mulled over ideas, most of which were long play, wide net rumormongering, until we interviewed the Dockmaster and a plan began to form. He had been visited twice by a well-spoken fellow in a dark hooded cloak embroidered with some version of the Assemblage's variable emblem, sometimes bug arms and sometimes human arms and sometimes robit arms surrounding the central logo. I thought it'd be real convenient if we had access to Locate Object and could just divining-rod our way to the villain by finding his cloak.

Turns out we had a potion! We thought. But we had sold it in downtime. Ok plan B, let's hire someone. We went to our contact at the Temple of Turas who pulled a string to get us a mage from the Tower of Knowledge in exchange for security and a nice lunch. Right up our alley.

My experience with Locate Object has been mixed, the distances in wilderness and dungeons where I adventure the most being generally greater. It's pretty effective in a city though, especially when you can search by grid and know what you're looking for. It didn't take long for us to find our way back to the Tower of Knowledge of all places. Our mage ally happened to be a ranking officer in the organization and was pretty sour about cultist shenanigans showing up in his house.

A student's room held the cloak, a middling level mage who passed all the background checks for admittance. Vylas and his right hand elf Gilfandel loitered near the stairwell in case anything spicy happened while the rest searched the room. A couple nerds showed up and looked curious but kept on about their business. Then our guy showed up, saw us tossing his room, and tried to run. The elves were on him quick and brought him back.

Man what is this wizard's name that's helping us, the DM wondered. Well clearly it's Mister Wizard. So Mr. Mister Wizard interrogated the kid, happy to clean his own house while helping us hunt down the cultists in the city. The kid gave up his Mentor, who he was supposed to meet in a few days, and we offered him his life in exchange for his help in a sting operation. He agreed since he was pretty sure the Mentor was just gonna kill him anyway.

The site was a cafe, a tea house of decent quality. The elves infiltrated the staff, Slaid and his crew took up position across the way, and Sloane established a consignment deal with her mom's bakery and scheduled a delivery right at the time of the meet. All the kid had to do was play his part to lure in the Mentor and we'd nab him. Or kill him. You know, whatever.

The clientele of the tea house was a few mages, none matching our guy's description at a glance, and some civilians. Nothing unusual for the place. The kid took his seat and shortly afterwards a commotion was heard inside. A rat drew all eyes as it tried to scurry through the dining room, but when Sloane stuck it with her knife it was an illusion! The rest of us saw a black robed man creep up behind the kid.

The action was swift, Slaid's crew of bladedancers and archers and whatnot putting the target down fast enough that no one else had to act. The girls quickly scooped him onto a horse and got him out of the way. Well, that's that! Job's done! Except ole boy didn't have any spell books or components or mage stuff on him. If the Mentor was a mage, this weren't him, despite being dressed the same and making the meeting. We opted to stay in place and see what else might happen.

After a while, the clientele cleared out, uncomfortable with the violence nearby. The mages were left and with less of a crowd we were able to look more closely at them. One actually did kind of match the description of the Mentor, so I approached in my guise as a waiter to get a closer interaction. He smirked and paid his bill, rising to leave, so I followed him out to hold the door like a good host. I also grabbed my stashed sword from the host stand just as he turned to gloat about how well our trap went off but too bad we missed him! Haha! Mustache twirl!

Well. That's certainly a choice to make. I guess he was so arrogant he didn't realize I was about to beat his ass. I planted the pommel of my sword between his eyes, which crossed and he staggered. He was able to get a spell off before I could hit him again, trapping me, Sloane, and the rest of the dining room in magical sticky webbing. Unfortunately for him it didn't stop me from casting my own spell which cut him down with magical blades, chop chop. I'd have rather pummeled him again but once he went to magic I couldn't risk it. I was just happy it wasn't a fireball.

He survived his defeat thanks to healing potions and quick response from the rest of the team. We've got him in custody now and have learned about a ship coming in soon, which we will capture as we've done before, and a rogue werewolf operation at a nearby farm that could be bigger trouble than we'd guessed. Someone really ought to do something about that.

Musings:

The more time we spend in a friendly urban environment, the better our relationships get with the powers that be. We are cleaning house pretty well so the adventure will have to extend beyond the city soon. I will note that the suggestions given by the big brain RPG developers like Macris and Gygax are that adventure primarily happens on the frontier, where resources are slim and allies are few. We are experiencing why those suggestions are wise as we regularly leverage a broad array of resources that we otherwise would not have. I worry that we will grow accustomed to doing so and struggle to adjust once the hooks take us on.

There are, of course, urban environments that are as filled with peril as the wilderness. We even have hooks pointing us to such a place. Allegany just ain't that. It's the regional bastion of Law and we are clubbing Chaos at every turn even if individually we aren't exactly model citizens. We're establishing a strong reputation that should serve us as we advance in notoriety or at the very least provide a place to send our bodies back to.

Lemon Pound Cake

With the last of the apparent wererat menace exterminated, we were left with a few options. We knew a little about the shipping details of the shadow organization the Assemblage, which was shaping up to be the BBEG of the campaign. We also had the Stargazers' Sextant and the hook to figure out the temple/constellation/???? mystery for the Naurivus monks. Top that off with some seemingly minor local hooks like haunted farms and several treasure maps and we were flush with things to do.

We decided to point ourselves at the Sextant hook in the mountains and knock over anything on the way, like treasure maps or one of these farms. The farmhouse and barn were on a big piece of land with a dry gully alongside, which we discovered late in the day. We pulled back and camped to be fresh on the approach.

Overnight some beetles showed up, big ole things probably let loose by whatever was at the farm and intent on doing us harm. We harmed them instead. But that encounter confirmed our suspicions that the farm was connected with the Assemblage's weird ass beetle project.

I held overwatch with the wardogs and my new henchman Gilfandel while the rest of the party engaged the house. After some tense chatter with the denizens, somehow Sloane was pulled into the back door and it was barred against entry. About this time some chuckleheads were creepin' from the barn nearby to outflank the party. We cut them off while the group dealt with the gomers in the building, a bunch of armed men who really didn't like random guys showing up on their doorstep looking for pound cake.

Two concurrent fights happened, with Sloane just dogwalking the guys who thought to kidnap her while me and the hounds wiped out the flankers. Guygiss slid down the chimney like Krampus and ruined the remaining guys' day. After all was said and done we had a secret passage under the barn and a bunch of dead cultists.

The passage led to a beetle feeding lair like we'd seen before, and then beyond to the guys doing the feeding. They weren't ready. We found a preparation and shipping operation just like before along with a little treasure. We set an ambush to capture the guys who showed up. We also found a note that named a specific island city as an important spot for the Assemblage.

A Plague of (Were)Rats

We can't be everywhere at once. This fundamental truth has led to at least one hook developing to apparent critical mass as sessions have progressed. Did we choose this session to finally investigate whatever's going on with that haunted farm down the way? No. We kept on one of our original goals of eliminating wererats. These kinds of choices matter in a living world.

The Temple had info for us regarding the missing son of Nicodemus the Wererat, who was allegedly the one responsible for most of the proliferation of the cult within Allegany. He was holed up with the last vestiges of his cult at a warehouse (werehouse?) on the West side. Don't worry boss, we're on it.

Vylas the Spellsword and Sloane the Slayer took a hunting dog and tracked around the outskirts of the town near the warehouse. We were pretty sure they'd have a bolt hole/sekrit escape hatch because they had literally had the same in every other lair we'd found. We weren't wrong and located it after some sniffing around.

Guygiss the Nightblade took his cadre of henchmen on a night-time breaking and entering recon with Slaid the Bard and the rest of us on overwatch. The agreed upon signal was Guygiss to scream girlishly if discovered so the henchmen could signal the cavalry. Simple. Effective. Ignored.

Guygiss made some noise on entry and alerted the guardians, who ambushed him once he closed the door behind him. He was outnumbered 4 to 1 but despite his appearance ain't no little bitch. He went down swinging with nary a holler until the killing blow. He downed 3 of them but the last one got him. His henches, confused by the noise, moseyed over to the PC overwatch and expressed some mild concern. This definitely had nothing to do with Guygiss's 6 Charisma and the loyalty such things inspire in followers.

Vylas (that's me) rode to the sekrit hatch in case of escape while the rest of the party bust in the front door, hackin' the enemy down in the wanton destruction only adventurers can bring. Guygiss was missing and the running battle through the building was tinged with worry over his fate.

I broke in the back door and discovered ole boy's son Norvi packing like he was leaving. Nope. We exchanged sword blows until he was dead, along with his bodyguard. I found some evidence that the wererats had been burned by the Assemblage, the shadow organization responsible for all this Chaotic nonsense and our ultimate quarry, but no Guygiss.

The rest of the party killed the last wererat and found Guygiss strapped to the table around which torture implements were arrayed. It's a good thing we got to him because it was clear the instant pain was applied he would break and give up everything he knew.

Meanwhile, a wererat was captured outside by Guygiss's hench Brutus, the bandit he'd converted last session. Apparently Brutus had orders to abscond with any wererat he could catch for "research purposes." One of Slaid's Lawful Bladedancers witnessed the capture and insisted on the monster's death. It was an interesting exchange because it was henchman/henchman, not PC/PC, both acting as their controlling players' thought most fitting for them in that scenario. Brutus eventually backed down and the monster was slain, but it coulda gone either way.

Macris says something about this:

I was proud of DM Jes who, when the two henchmen confronted each other, began to roll reactions to see just how hard they'd stick to their orders. I'm not sure exactly how he parsed the rolls. ACKS provides some guidance regarding obedience with modifiers following:

At any rate, henchmen aren't extensions of the player. I'm glad when push came to shove that it was run that way. It's a lot to handle as a DM. I have no interest in controlling every little action of a double handful of henchmen on top of the antagonist factions I've got to run in a session as a DM.

Wererats down. Eliminated? Who knows? Next up? I don't know. Probably pick through the aftermath of that farm, unless something lucrative presents itself.

[Glowing Exclamation Mark]

Our session started off with some book keeping, with a lot of conversation about alchemy and potions and formulae. It's a new wrinkle for our players so the interested parties want to make sure they're getting everything right. The danger of ACKS is getting lost in the weeds. It's an eternal battle.

Once we got down to business, we resolved a meeting with the abbot of a group of monks concerned with constellations and orrery maintenance. We had previously recovered a holy relic that when used in concert with the order's orrery would reveal a secret entrance in the subterranean temple. The conversation was primarily about how much the monk would pay us for the artifact, for access to the temple, and other transactional behavior, leading to the departure of my Lawful Nobiran Wonderworker from the party.

I missed whatever terms they eventually hashed out while I was rolling a Neutral Elven Spellsword, but when I joined back up we were in the temple with the abbot, who used the Sextant of Naurivus to open the secret passage. It revealed a chamber with some books on constellations, maintenance instructions for the orrery, and a map leading to the next of three total temples like this one.

There was more research to be done with the discovered material but that would take more than session time so I committed to that for downtime, since the spellsword is essentially a fighter/mage. We had session time left and a treasure map that wasn't too far away so we thought to cap off the day with a little score.

The map led us to a rocky outcropping near a waterway. There was an entrance leading underground that we wriggled into. A workshop filled with mechanisms and traps awaited us. Some cleverness and luck got us through, avoiding a rushing water trap and portcullis to trap us there. When we exited with a little treasure, there were bandits occupying our base camp and menacing our hireling wagon drivers.

Fortunately, it turned out that Guygiss knew them from a past life. We learned they had worked for the wererat lieutenant Jenner that the party had killed some time back and were rudderless without his guidance. So bandits do what bandits do. They were using the spot to lure folks in, trap them, then kill them and take their stuff. Probably put the map out as part of the trap.

Guygiss convinced their leader to join up as his henchman and we were invited back to their camp. The rest of us were pretty suspicious and when our escort started trying to make space as if to fight or take cover, my new spellsword Vylas sprung into action, shouting "ambush" to warn the others and killing the nearest bandit to him. The fight was short and one-sided, with the adventurers suffering no harm and all but Guygiss's new friend Brutus dead. There wasn't even an additional ambush! These handful of gomers thought they'd catch us off guard I guess?

Brutus said there were ten or so bandits back and camp, but he'd get us by their sentries and help us subdue them to show his loyalty to Guygiss. Duplicity and magic defeated the remaining bandits, which we captured to turn in for bounties. We confiscated their wagon and loaded up our own with prisoners and loot and trundled back to town, fat and happy to have robbed the robbers.

Musings:

You've got to know when to fold 'em. I find myself at odds with murderhobos and cutthroats pretty often, but there are two friction points there and the distinction is important. 

The one is character behavior in line with their role. The thief is gonna steal, the mercenary is gonna work for the highest bidder, and the necromancer is gonna raise the fallen to fight for him. These are things that happen in the game, driven by the characters' roles, and if there's friction over them, there should be. It can lead to interesting play as a result. My characters tend to clash with those characters, but it's all part of the game.

The other is more of a meta approach to the game itself, which I attribute to a combination of the influence that video games have had on player behavior and the gp for xp conversion of games like ACKS and AD&D. When the focus of play is the ROI of every action taken, then it's no longer about the interactions themselves but only how big a reward you're gonna get for the quest you completed. You're playing a video game at that point, identifying the reward system and maximizing the output. You're a stealth archer in Morrowind.

I say all this only to point out why I retired my uber-Lawful Nobiran Wonderworker, a half mage, half priest character unique to ACKS. If there's friction between characters, then the characters can work through that, as we had been doing to this point with Caldor the Nobiran as the party's kind of conscience balanced by the self-serving Neutrals. If there's friction between players, then that's lame. 

Dunder Moose once called me the "fun police" after noting my penchant for playing the straight man style characters. I can't really argue with that. But that's all in character. I'm not trying to police anyone's fun as a player and it's easy enough to adapt to the game the other players want to play. If we're out here tryna ding, then so be it. It's all just an excuse to hang out with our friends anyway.

Planetarium

March 1, 2X26

The cultists are still active within the city. We are learning more about their operation every time we act but we still don't have a firm target to eliminate them. They are compartmentalized.

Adventuring is hard on my studies. I am committed to getting my spell books in order which leaves me little time for anything but serious action. I am told the rest went to invest in a whaling ship to hunt giant rockfish. Their spines are useful for counteracting poison.

Once they are finished at the docks, we return to an unexplored passage beneath the city, near the beetle lair we cleared out recently. It lets out into a forgotten temple with long-abandoned relics bearing the symbology of Naurivus, the god of explorers. We clear the place and discover a mechanism that mimics the constellations and an access point into a basement filled with tools and workbenches and such.

We are prepared for bloodshed but discover only a small monastery of monks dedicated to the upkeep of the machinery. They do not know anything of the temple other than rumors of its existence. We request to speak with their abbot who comes around every few months. He is supposed to arrive towards the end of the week. His visits are close to but not exactly mimicking itinerary of the smugglers we have apprehended. I pray it is mere coincidence.

March 3, 2X26

It appears that our party members have all independently accepted employment at a masquerade party which many worthies of the city are attending. I am supervising door security, Sloane is watching the side entrance, Slaid is performing, and Guygiss is somehow allowed near the food to inspect for poison.

I select a man in a bull mask for a "random inspection" which we all know is never random. He has an aggressive bearing that does not match the mood of the party. The guards recover a poisoned blade and though large and angry, the man goes quietly into custody.

Sloane arrests a man trying to smuggle in swords and Guygiss detects poison applied to some vegetables being readied for service. He slaps them out of the hands of anyone working with them and then things start happening.

The cooler holding the prisoners has a ruckus during an escape attempt. Guygiss arrives and somehow the bull-headed man ends up in a pool of his own blood. Meanwhile, a man is stabbed in the crowd. We lock the place down, render aid to the wounded, and capture the would-be assassin before he is able to escape.

The party is over and we await updates from the Temple of Turas investigators.