Pirates and Council Continue, DMing for Thanksgiving, and other stuff

Oddly we're hitting book two of Skulls and Shackles and Council of Thieves at roughly the same time. In Skulls we survived the first month under the lash of Plug and Scourge until the wyrmwood's first prey came into view. Lysandros (the rogue) ended up leader of our small boarding team. Our team was also made part of the prize crew to send the ship back to Port Peril for sale. However, it wasn't long before we could tell that Plug and Scourge had other plans, which we wouldn't survive.

With support of a handful of NPCs we'd befriended along the way we mutinied and took control for ourselves, only to get swept away in a storm and beached for a few days while repairing the ship and rescuing two NPCs from the grindylows who attacked during that same horrid storm. Now with our new ship afloat, and our new captain (Lysandros, the rogue) in charge we head for the same port Plug was headed for, hoping to complete a crew and squib the ship.

In Council things are a little weirder. Our first few days involved dodging hellknights, killing shadow beasts at night, and goblins during the day. Then, a gang known as "The Bastards of Erebus" pushed too hard, and our little group of less that legitimate vigilantes asked us to do what the guard still refused to do.

After a successful raid of the Bastards hideout, and capture of their Asmodian cleric and leader, we've built a little bit of reputation with the populus. Now we've been approached by a member of the Pathfinder Society asking us to help get back into an old lodge in Westcrown. How? We get to be actors, in a murder play! If we do well, we get invited to drunken debauchery at the Lord Mayor's home, in which we'll get to dig through his home looking for info on how to get back into the lodge.

I'm also the DM for the family and most of these two groups for two thanksgiving dinner and oneshot games. If your not in one of those games and have suggestions, comment here or on G+!

Amtgard has also hit a new state. Skywatch is no longer the infant shire, the new Shire of Nightglade has risen in mundane San Angelo, and along with Ninewillows (midland) we're helping them get on their feet. As one of my household's members said, it's odd being the veterans visiting the new field.

That's about it.

No Kings made, Death's hands changed, off to the Seas, and down with the hellknights!

So here's this random-time-period's news.

First, the Kingmaker game with the sibling meets tomorrow for its last time. The campaign will continue with others, but the DMs schedule means we're out. I would've liked to give it another go, but I'm actually not all that torn up about it. Some other time I'll either run or play through it with another group. The sibling and I aren't without a game to play yet though, more on that below.

Second, the four horsemen game I was running is now finished. The party constantly changed and only settled down near the end. I didn't really finish Famine's arc but kinda needed to wrap up. So the final battle happened in Abaddon. When I had them cross a small section of Styx, they decided to use flight instead of a raft. This was fine, but instead of completing their move to cross they hovered over it and dropped spells on some daemons that attacked them. The daemons in question had dispel magic. The cleric and one sorcerer ended up in the river brain and soul wiped.

The remaining sorcerer and the cavalier ran for it. Came across a pair of boatmen, and went to pay them passage back to the regular world. After some conversation they discovered that Death had the boats and all but a few boatmen destroyed. They then convinced these two boatmen to help fight Death. So when they got to the machine Death and his preferred two boatmen assembled, (pretty much a giant soul blender that pumped energy into Death and his lackeys) it was two boatmen and two players vs two advanced boatmen and Death. (I didn't have a statblock for death, so it he was just a really advanced boatmen with some extra nasty abilities.)

The game ended with the cavalier shouting "I want your JOB!" while dealing the final damage to Death. Death dissipated and the cavalier sat on the throne, and restored things back to before the soul blender. As a final "favor" to the rest of the party he had the two in the river reincarnated and kicked back into the world with no memories and no stuff. The sorcerer he had booted back to the real world with all the other people's (except his own) gear. So now there's a well outfitted goblin dragon disciple somewhere in the world who death owes a favor, and the other sorcerer and cleric have started over at level 1 with no memory but their names in a Reign of Winter game run by the player of the surviving sorcerer.

My witch for Kingmaker got a new name, a little different history, and is now in a Skulls and Shackles game with my brother (run by the person who's cavalier became death, and is the Runelords DM). The party involves her, my brother's female inquisitor of besmara, a female half-orc barbarian played by one friend, and a male human pirate(rogue archetype) played by the dm of my the other game that's now on tuesdays Council of Thieves. She completes a completely gender-bending party, all by chance but her. It's fun.

As for her Council game. She's starting a blog as well. I think the two of us will try and keep consistent posts about that game here and there. You can visit Selvaron's blog here. I'm playing a chelaxian native human freehand fighter (archetype). He's a former member of the Dottari, who decided he'd be more useful to westcrown investigating things on his own.

I've gone from two APs that I'm playing in and one freeform game I was DMing, to four APs. I'm also considering starting Legacy of Fire. I'm pretty sure that this is one of the definitions of insanity, but that's fine by me.

Now for something a little different, the Shire of Skywatch is still doing okay. I'm not playing as hard as I was when it started, but I'm still enjoying the occasional visit. What's interesting is there's another startup field starting in November. So on the 10th I'll be going to San Angelo's Nightglade field's opening day.

Add to all this a free form RWBY game we hope to get off soon, and other madness, and I'm happily lost in too much stuff to do again!

Marcello's Last Moments

Marcello has passed on in Rise of the Runelords, here's his last few moments.

"All I see is Dash..." Marcello said with a look of confusion on his face.

"Wait, there's a door just there. Someone's hidden it with an illusion." Turie said after stepping into the room.

Marcello and Alice both turned to where Turie was pointing, with a little concentration they could see the door. Marcello waited while Alice checked it and opened it.

"More fog. I'll go." Alice said and stepped through the threshold.

As the rest of the band started shuffling into the small room Marcello pulled his staff and slammed it into the door jam, once again pushing the fog away. A long narrow corridor was revealed, but Alice was no where in site. Marcello stepped through as the fog re-coalesced around him.

Marcello! Your in danger!

Manus? Marcello thought to the sudden voice of his dead brother in his mind.

Your new friends have been tainted by the magics of Lhamastu in the crypt. They're about to try and sacrifice you!

But... Marcello returned, how...

Quickly, defend yourself brother! the voice replied.

Marcello accepted it, despite no evidence, and ran blindly down the hall. He didn't know how it happened, but he had to get back out of this place, and hopefully find a way to quickly remove the taint and restore their minds. He flicked his hand behind him, and brought up a wall of acid, expecting it to give him time to think.

Time however, wasn't on his side, Koreth was already coming at him as the wall went up, he had rope with him, but the acid burned the rope away. Koreth grabbed Marcello by the waist before he could get out of reach.

It's too late. His mind worked quickly, he brought the lightning bolt he'd prepared to disrupt other casters forward. Koreth had left his hands free. "I'm sorry." He wove the spell and discharged it directly through Koreth's chest. The bolt surged through him and down the hallway. Marcello heard many of his friends cry out in pain. <It's necessary I have to subdue them so I can find a way out and clense them.>

Koreth response was to slam Marcello against the wall and grab his hands. "Not as sorry as you're goin' ta be!" He shouted in Marcello's face.

He's crazed. Like that damned scribbler who's been in here for so long.> Unable to move, Marcello's mind was the only thing working. He had to find a way to get loose. The scorch mark on Koreth looked pretty bad. Maybe it'll be just enough to knock him out. Marcello moved the wall over the both of him with his mind. His hopes were drowned though, as he saw the acid move he also saw the glow of Turie's healing power flow over Koreth. She warped it around so I wasn't healed as well, this madness has her too.

The acid hurt, it was hard to concentrate. But then Koreth moved, releasing his arms and pulling them both out of the magical wall. "What ar' ya doin'?" the dwarf yelled, and squeezed.

Marcello felt a ribs crack and coughed up blood. His mind was in overdrive, he couldn't get loose. They had him, but he couldn't let that monstrous bitch win. "I will not be sacrificed to Lhamastu!" he gurgled, and used the last of his concentration to summon a fireball. He detonated where his and Koreth's chests met. The heat and burning was maddening, he felt his flesh boil where Koreth's now cherry red armor touched him.

Then it was over, Koreth let go, and stepped back. He rose his hands. "We're not your enemy." Koreth looked like hell.

Lies, all lies. He wants your guard down. The voice said again. Marcello watched Koreth start backing away. He mentally moved the wall between them again. He started to feel the mental itch warning him that the spell he'd cast to increase everyone's endurance was fading. He dug in his pack blindly and pulled the first potion he felt, and downed it. "Stay back!" he called as he felt the magical healing course through him. Now to get out of here. He started the process of mentally moving the wall and walking back the way he came.

Just then, a door opened through yet another illusion. Marcello saw The Scribbler look at him with a smile, the sword slash across his body, and then darkness.

Suddenly, he was light, and no longer felt pain, he tried to look forward and saw that he was standing in a long line of people leading to a throne. It was night. He'd been here before, when the redcap cut him in two a few weeks back before Turie pulled him back. He was dead. He was in line to be judged.

"Hey! Marcello!" He heard behind him in line. He turned and saw Manus, his twin who died in the same days that caused Marcello's exile from Westcrown.

“Why are you still here, is Pharisma's judgment that harsh?” Marcello asked with fear.

Manus' wispy form shrugged“Don't know yet. I refused to be judged until either you succeeded or we could be could be judged together.”

“She agreed?”

“Yeah, she seemed indifferent. Did you go back?”

“No.”

“How'd you go?”

“With a bang.”

“Good enough for me. Let's see what the Lady of Graves thinks.” Manus joined him in line and they waited their turn.

***

“Marcello and Manus Crispin, who I sent to the world together, now face me. I will judge you together.” she paused and looked at the two souls. “You fought against the plots of devils in your homeland, and were expelled for it. Manus's life the day Marcello fled your lands, but he continued your mutual goals of suppressing evil's influence on the world. You, Marcello, joined a group of fighters, was captured by evil, and yet continued to fight. You showed moderation on occasion, charity despite the situation, and shared whenever you could. You vanquished enemies of piece, resisted outright slaughter for slaughters sake, and left power with your allies even after your passing.”

Pharisma stared at Marcello for a bit, and begun again. “Your soul is still heavy. You were quick to anger in situations you should not have, and that anger is strongest with you now. It was your last feeling as a mortal, but was not entirely of your own mind. I judge you worthy of celestial peace, but can not send you there in this state.”

“Can something be done?” The brothers asked.

“I will send you back, briefly. Expel it quickly and completely. If you fail you'll join the tortured who can not move on.” She waved her hand in an almost bored gesture.

***

With that, Marcello was suddenly in a room. He saw The Scribbler's back, he was attacking Alice. Marcello's wrath was in control, he couldn't move his body he tried to speak and summon any spell. “You'll regret having killed me!” He didn't sound entirely like himself, it didn't matter. He poured his anger into the energies around him, and his most powerful lightning bolt arched from his body into The Scribbler. He saw it hit Alice as well, and was pained again. This won't work, they'll all die, and it'll still be my fault. This madman, that fucking damned madman! He simply has to go.

He reached into that anger again, hoping to pull fire to him. It seemed to take longer, he still couldn't move. Then he head it.

“Can you guys take that again?” A voice cried that voice, it was familiar, and angry. The anger seemed to make it feel familiar.

“Go for it.”

”GOOD!” and Marcello heard the words for that same spell he'd just cast yelled in hot rage. The spell went tearing through the air, and despite a lack of feeling, Marcello could tell it was powerful. The familiarity sunk in with the anger behind the casting.

Quiray, what's he doing here? Marcello felt the fireball he was reaching for ready, but decided to hold it.

Marcello watched, he felt the anger subside as he heard The Scribbler crack a joke. Then watched Koreth and another charge past The Scribbler into the room and look right at Marcello. Koreth was angry, even for Koreth. Marcello noticed he was healed, and saw regret in his eyes before he turned and screamed insults at the opponent he couldn't see. As Marcello's emotions subsided and logic started to return he saw that everyone else was fighting with anger, instead of reason. Calm, you can't fight this bastard angry. Calm down!

The Scribbler revealed himself to Koreth with an attack. Then the elf Marcello knew was Quiray stepped into vision, cast a spell and twisted his face as he saw the spell dissipate before hitting its target.

They're not going to make it. Marcello was calm, he sensed the strength of the fireball he had ready. It was on the weaker side, and Quiray was always known for providing protections to his allies. If he kept true to that, then Koreth and the other should be guarded against it. He brought it up, it would make spellcasting hard, but if he could just hurt the Scribbler a little more, maybe Turie could get them all out alive.

Before he let the fireball go Koreth hit hard again, and Quiray wove a spell with flicks and dodges despite his proximity to The Scribbler. Marcello felt the waves of magic purging energy bounce off of The Scribbler, then saw two waves envelop The Scribbler, who fell.

They made it! Marcello shoved the energies back into the universe, and felt his anger go with it. The next thing Marcello saw was his brother beckoning him to sit at a huge table filled with food and wine. He sat and began chatting with his long missed mother.