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Personal Improvement at the Inn of the Tankards

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The morning broke hot and humid over the lands of the southern Dolmenwood, and the plains below. The party, laden to a ridiculous extent, labored along the edge of the wood until they came to the Capring Road, and struck south. The sun was setting by the time they gained the Inn of the Tankards, sitting comfortably at the crossroads of the Tankard, Capring, and Bove's Roads, as well as the disused Ditchway path that meandered off to the east. Under the humid sunset skies, Sir Glad threw open the door to the inn. My early preliminary sketch of The Inn of the Tankards, and it's grounds Inside, the commons rooms were packed. Jovial mirth and laughter spilled from the open door. A fire crackled in the hearth, where a Bard was singing a long ballad of St. Clewyd and Sallowbryg, the evil atacorn. Crump was rushing back and forth between tables, serving ales and dinners to the motley patrons, while Nelga ran back and forth from the bar to the kitchens, a crimped, disapproving stare o...

Treasure, Ghosts, and Marriage

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  GM Interlude: The first thing done was a retcon rules clarification. Today, I printed out Dolmenwood Calendars, both for me and for the players. Upon looking at the calendar for Lillipythe, I realized that on our first session I'd somehow accidentally transposed us back a week. Meaning, we started on the 13th, Eggfast, the Feast of St. Torphia , only the Feast of St. Torphia doean't actually happen until Eggfast, the 20th. So, we quickly moved out dates forward. It was the 23rd, NOT the 16th, that the party passed through the candle-barrier in the lower crypt of Sir Chyde's tomb. Back to the game! The players, led by the hulking troll, Grimmlegridge with his goblin overlord, Griddlegrim on his back, entered the tower of Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk. The room they entered was roughly half a circle, with enclosed stairs winding upward to their left, a tall dark-oak paneled wall before them with a small wooden door, a fireplace (with burning icicle 'logs', with blue fli...

A Brief Rules Interlude From Ye Olde GM

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  We've played a handful of sessions now, and a very few rules clarifications and additions have come up. First, I'll note the changes to the rules we're using here, in this post. Second, I am creating a Rules page, that will have most of the information in our existing rules post, plus these additions. So, if you're reading this after the blog has run for a while, just know that before this post existed, there was no 'Rules' page. The 'New' Rules: Healing of serious injury. Cleric healing spells are able to heal serious injury, within 'reasonable' limits, for each Hit Die of healing they would roll. So, a 1HD Lesser Healing could either heal 1 broken leg, burned leg, paralyzed leg, etc, OR do 1HD of healing. Ergo, a healer would need to expend multiple spells to heal multiple serious injuries. This does not heal things that aren't there... If you lost a leg, you would require a spell of regeneration, or some altogether darker magic. Knights...

Session Four - Beyond The Candle Barrier

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  After the violent death of Gramorr, the party retreated back into the ruined chapel to reassess their options. This was when they met a newcomer---a strapping, but somewhat dull-witted fighter, named Couscous. Couscous wore platemail, and carried a dazzling sword, which we learned came from fairy. (It was a random trinket rolled in character generation.) Couscous apparently found the barrow, and crawled in through the wormtongue's burrow entrance, and, following the sounds of commotion found the party. They were, of course, happy to accept his participation. At this point, it was nearing 8:30 at night. They had been adventuring since early that morning, and exhaustion would set in soon if a good rest wasn't had. Before they turned in, however, they resolved to explore the final room, to the east, mirroring the chapel, that they hadn't yet entered. The room was a weapon repository. Seven tall footmen statues held weapons of fine design. A moldy mural covered one wall, feat...

Session Three - The Hounds of Sir Chyde

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  After D-Dane, Gramorr, Meowianne, and Perrin Ashbone closed the door to the northern chamber, they paused to re-evaluate their options. To the west was a circular chamber with a looming white figure. To the East was the quicksilver glint of a mirror. Deciding the mirror couldn't be that bad, they went that way... Two more paths opened from the eastern room, one running northwest, the other north. On one wall was a mirror, with an empty plinth before it. After a careful inspection of the other passages by Perrin, Meowianne and D-Dane went to investigate the plinth. The moment they crossed in front of the mirror (which both were careful not to look into), they froze, turning into frigid, petrified figures. Perrin and Gramorr were able to deduce the magic had struck from being in front of the mirror, not simply looking into it. Barring any other options, they dragged the two petrified bodies up into the open air. Meowianne happened to be placed in a patch of sunlight---and the magic...

Session Two - With the Iron Owls

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  When we last left our four intrepid---and possibly experience-precocious---adventurers, they had spent a fitful night of haunted dreams at the Inn of the Tankards, a few miles north of High Hankle on the Tankards' Road. Colly, the 15th, of Lillipythe, broke clear and cool. At 5am, the sun was just breaking the eastern horizon, casting long shadows across the rolling countryside. Crump Tolmen, the four adventurers' new employer, rose with the sun, kicking Perrin, Gramorr, and D-Dane unceremoniously in the sides to wake them. It bears reminding that, up to now, Meowianne has remained entirely in her Chester form, spending the night curled up on Crump's ill-smelling feet, as a cat. As such, Crump seems unaware of her involvement with the party. In the courtyard of the Inn of the Tankards, Crump gave brief instructions. He checked his new retainers had rations and water. Upon finding that the thief, Gramorr, didn't have a waterskin, Crump irritably snuck back into the inn...

Session One - Retainers at the Inn of the Tankards

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  "They say," said the wiry man in a gravelly voice, head drooping in his cups at The Chantry Inn, just outside the looming limestone walls of High-Hankle, "he fell in love... with a woman... a strange and beautiful woman... from the wood. And that was when it started to come undone for the great warrior, Sir Chyde. Now, mind you, this happened, oh, nigh nine hundred years ago, during the last wars of the Dukes of Brackenwold against those frosty elves of the Prince of Winter. And for nine hundred years, the tale has been told, and aye, me own dad told me, many a cold winter night, tall tales of Sir Chyde, riding his great hoary stallion into battle, cutting down elves like scythers in the harvest wheat. He told me how Sir Chyde was struck mortal in battle, and buried by the ring of stones he'd trysted at with the Woman of the Wood... But for all his love, she never visited his grave... For a hundred years, the place was consecrated as holy, as they were wont to do b...