<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963</id><updated>2009-10-14T07:38:51.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Hand Group</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-5857298726723425879</id><published>2009-09-10T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T09:52:22.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forbryte Wiki</title><content type='html'>Here's the wiki on the Forbryte campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sites.google.com/site/forbryte"&gt;http://sites.google.com/site/forbryte&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-5857298726723425879?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/5857298726723425879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=5857298726723425879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/5857298726723425879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/5857298726723425879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2009/09/forbryte-wiki.html' title='Forbryte Wiki'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-4907977825039315565</id><published>2009-09-10T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T09:42:38.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cult of Car-Ob</title><content type='html'>After having completed the quest to the House of Menander, the Elf Bard began seeing visions of things and suggested to the party that they return to the evil temple under the city that they had found through the rat tunnels and the crypts of the de la Peur family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party, comprised of Bard, Don "Dwarfo", Artemis Ridcully, Hamfast "Hammy" Gordlington, and Minz, the newcomer dwarf that befriended Blake and Larry on a trip to a ruins in the South, entered into the windy rat tunnels and emerged into the temple complex.  Upon entering the main temple area, Bard went berserk, attacking the statue of the giant eye with much fervor and recklessness.  Cutting chunks of statue away, his newly found sword-blade began to peel and the shiny coating began to chip away, revealing a rune-covered black blade underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The racket drew the attention of the evil priest who emerged from behind the curtain and re-animated the skeletons the party had destroyed in their previous entre into the temple.  After a hard-fought battle, the skeletons and priest were defeated.  When Minz began removing the priests platemail for his own use, the party recognized the priest as the man who escaped in their battle with the snake Cult of Car-Ob.  Interestingly, he bore the arms and symbols of the frog-man statue, rather than the snakes worshipped by the cult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bard seemed to have an uncanny ability to detect things, including secret doors and the party discovered a secret chamber behind the curtain that they had previously missed.  Inside the chamber, they found many unholy religous trappings.  Searching further, they found the priests chambers and in it, a book, a potion (which Bard drank and was henceforth rather minute, standing a mere 6" tall) and a collection of gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, they also found stairs which led down and a passage to an abandoned house in the shanty-town outside the city walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exploring the hallway outside the temple, they found a large, burned-out area, but also the rotting remains of a bathhouse.  In the bathhouse, they fought a strange tentacled beast and recovered a quiver of 10 magic arrows which Bard had discerned lie beneath the water's murky surface.  Escaping the tentacled beast, they returned to the city - through the rat tunnels to avoid the hefty tariffs they would surely be forced to pay at the city gate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-4907977825039315565?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/4907977825039315565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=4907977825039315565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/4907977825039315565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/4907977825039315565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2009/09/cult-of-car-ob.html' title='Cult of Car-Ob'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-2524209363397264533</id><published>2009-06-01T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T08:29:14.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snurdle Snurdle Snurdle</title><content type='html'>Our band of intrepid adventurers, having lived it up for a week on the town, were meeting up back in the common room of the Silver Eel, within the Dark City District.  Having relayed their wild tales to each other, someone mentions that he overheard that a particular city guard by the name of Kal Borzio was a particularly corrupt fellow.  The newest member of the group - and old "friend" of Artemis, Snyrdle Syrdleson*, an odd and particularly cruel and cowardly man suggested that everyone get together and rob Kal's house while he's on duty.  The party, in a bit of a criminal mood (Hammy having just been released from prison) agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party set out to gather intelligence on the guardsman - first seeking out some off duty guard at the tavern.  Artemis buddied up to a drunk guardsman named Eulor, extracting information from him about Kal with regular and magical means.  Kal, it seemed, was a particularly corrupt and vile guardsman - even judged against the low standards set by the main of the city guard who generally accept bribes and look the other way when their "friends" are pursuing their "business".  Additionally, Eulor relayed that Kal often hung out at the Green Dragon Inn - a favorite haunt of the guard when off duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party headed over to the Green Dragon Inn and easily spotted Borzio and his compatriots.  After watching during a long night of drinking, they followed him home.  Along the way, a group of shady characters approached him and Blake (or was it Larry?) overheard that they were expressing concern that Borzio may not be able to hold up his end of the bargain.  Eventually, he appeased their concerns and headed home and fell asleep in a drunken stupor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staking out his house, the sneaky Blake (or was it Larry?) crept in through the window and inspected his home.  Finding the keys on the bedside table, he opened the footlocker, removing a large bag of coins and some paperwork.  In the meantime, Snyrdle set up a rope across the front door for Borzio to trip on upon awakening.  Upon returning to the inn, the party found the bag full of silver and the paperwork to include references to many shady characters and links between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the party split in two.  Half followed Borzio around and the other half went to talk to Eulor, who cautioned them against getting involved with Borzio and his shady dealings.  Eventually, Borzio and his guardsman crew headed to a mansion in the weathly district of the city.  The party lied in wait while it appeared that Borzio and his men were doing private guard duty at the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some time, Borzio headed out of the house and headed into the stables.  The shady characters the party had seen before headed out of the stables, through the gate and (with ropes) up and over the wall of the next property.  In the meantime Blake (or was it Larry?) headed into the stables and found a trap door in the floor which led to some tunnels below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually the robbers returned, their bags full of loot.  The party couldn't decide what to do.  Should they kill the thieves and take their stuff?  Kill Borzio?  Shout out the alarm for the city guard?  Turn Borzio in?  Their indecision left a sizeable gap between themselves and the thieves who by now were down in the tunnels below.  They waited for Borzio to return to the stables, knocked him out then once again couldn't decide what to do.  Eventually, they tied him up and headed into the tunnels themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding themselves in the sewers, they eventually were able to track down the band of thieves, whom they engaged in combat.  After many arrows were fired, they recovered the stolen loot and looked for an exit from the sewers.  The emerged into the moonlight near the city market and headed back to the inn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Note: I can't remember Snyrdle's real last name, but Snyrdleson goes so well that that's what I'm calling him for now. Here's what Snyrdle looks like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f0/PeterLorre.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;http://upload.wikimedia.org/&lt;wbr&gt;wikipedia/commons/f/f0/&lt;wbr&gt;PeterLorre.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-2524209363397264533?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/2524209363397264533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=2524209363397264533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/2524209363397264533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/2524209363397264533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2009/06/snurdle-snurdle-snurdle.html' title='Snurdle Snurdle Snurdle'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7247815802091362355</id><published>2008-08-03T06:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T06:52:04.260-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old school D and D'/><title type='text'>Tales to Astonish!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Entrance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 294px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Entrance.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The expedition ... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;continues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Behold, my friends! &lt;/span&gt;Come hear the tale of adventures from the years, the days, of yesterday -- adventurers whose bravery did not depend on things like feats, or race/class distinction, or even double-digit hit points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These brave and hardy adventurers continued their adventure on the dangerous side of the River Shrill. Two elves (&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Illuminar&lt;/span&gt;, also known as &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Balthazar&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Gildor Von Dandelioneater&lt;/span&gt;), two men (&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Benedict the Pious&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Emirol the Pathetic&lt;/span&gt;), and a dwarf (&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Balin the Illiterate&lt;/span&gt;) were joined by &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Galeena the Graceful&lt;/span&gt;, a sagacious, if self-described ditzy cleric. (Though no one knows where she came from or how she got there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/CnD/102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 470px; height: 276px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/CnD/102.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Left to right: Galeena, Balin, Benedict, Emirol, Gildor, Illuminar - plotting an intelligent, cogent strategy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They searched through an abandoned town, finding naught but rot, rats, and a residue of a once great civilization. (They also found statues marked with circled-stars and secret doors.) Balin the Illiterate, who seemed to assume a more devil-may-care attitude toward life, took to chopping doors down rather than opening them. In his haste, he split off from a party. "Balin, I shall not leave you alone, unaided," Benedict said. They were set upon by a nest of rats, who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;defeated and devoured&lt;/span&gt; them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room11.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Emirol, Galeena, and Benedit - true heroes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the rest of the party was exploring the rooftop of another building, and continued exploring the ruins. Upon finding a bubbling fountain-stream, Gildor  - his elf-kinship to the nature world roused - rushed to slake his thirst. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But bepoisoned he was&lt;/span&gt;! and lost a hit point -- permanently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/CnD/129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 275px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/CnD/129.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Benedict, Illuminar, Emirol - three great sages of days long gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are the other two?" asked Illimunar, adding, "I'm sure they're alright." They circled around until they discovered Balin's and Benedict's corpses. Overruling Gildor's idea to use the bodies as decoys against some later foe, Galeena had them buried and performed a funerial ceremony: &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;"May your spirits soar, amen,"&lt;/span&gt; she said. The threnody of our morning stretched to the farthest corner of the generic world in which we live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_BackCover2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_BackCover2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To mourn his fallen friends, Illuminar paints his sword - TruthSeeker - blackest black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We searched through piles of garbage, finding some baubles and treasure amid the ruination.  We found an ivory tube containing a scroll of three cleric spells, a mighty find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"We'll find those devils..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we heard through a door mighty arguing. We investigated, casting open the door -- &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;two OGRES! &lt;/span&gt;Alas, alack, fear, fire, foes!!! We engaged them and, despite their numerous hit points, defeated them. (In 1st edition, monsters didn't get strength bonuses to damage.) We looted their lair, finding much gold. An imaginary mounted paladin came by and made reference to his many feats. "Are you from the future?" asked Illuminar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wpm_gallery/WPM_Room20.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Take that, foul villain!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7247815802091362355?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7247815802091362355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7247815802091362355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7247815802091362355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7247815802091362355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/08/tales-to-astonish.html' title='Tales to Astonish!'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-31248577010579072</id><published>2008-07-27T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T08:07:00.917-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buccaneers of Port Manteau'/><title type='text'>Behold... the Ocarina of Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hyrulerealm.guardianarchives.com/Official/OoT/OcarinaOfTime.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://hyrulerealm.guardianarchives.com/Official/OoT/OcarinaOfTime.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-31248577010579072?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/31248577010579072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=31248577010579072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/31248577010579072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/31248577010579072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/07/behold-ocarina-of-time.html' title='Behold... the Ocarina of Time!'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-6502489153770306862</id><published>2008-07-20T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T08:04:43.806-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buccaneers of Port Manteau'/><title type='text'>"The Bepoisoned Orphans!"</title><content type='html'>When the crew of &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;The British Tar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;visited &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Sister Mary Albright's&lt;/span&gt; orphanage,  they encountered a sorry sight: dozens of bepoisoned orphans. Who could cause such menace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before they had a chance to do anything but roll for initiative, they were attacked -- by ninjas most foul! Ninja upon ninja attacked our group of shipping merchants/light pirates, confusing them with their ninjacrobatic attacks, smoke bombs, and shrieks of "Banzai!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/29/TurtlesInTimeFootSoldiers.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 244px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/29/TurtlesInTimeFootSoldiers.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The ninjas attack!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confounding the problem was when bepoisoned orphans ran into the combat, but&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; Ras T. Farr&lt;/span&gt; discovered they could be easily jumped over. The ninjas, led by a level 4 "Boss Ninja" named &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Daimyo&lt;/span&gt;, were eventually vanquished, but not before one delivered a near-killing blow to Sid Vicious (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Yarr! I hurt meself worse shavin' every mornin'!").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/2a/Oldmanassid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 167px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/2a/Oldmanassid.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sid Vicious, "Oi! Oi!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group discovered a note on Daimyo that revealed the source behind the orphan poisonage: the environmentally unsound training practices of &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Sid&lt;/span&gt;'s arch-enemy, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;the Double-handed Mongolian,&lt;/span&gt; had contaminated the orphans' well. Treachery MOST foul!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c6/Bob_Marley_Live_-_Painting_by_Steve_Brogdon1992.jpg/800px-Bob_Marley_Live_-_Painting_by_Steve_Brogdon1992.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c6/Bob_Marley_Live_-_Painting_by_Steve_Brogdon1992.jpg/800px-Bob_Marley_Live_-_Painting_by_Steve_Brogdon1992.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ras T. Farr, ending sentences with "mon" since 1756&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Ras T. Farr bought a parrot, the buccaneers raced to the port to depart for Barbados, to deliver coffee beans to the merchant prince &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Chartreusebeard&lt;/span&gt;, and encountered along the way the &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Most Sir High Lord Peter James Bond&lt;/span&gt;, Ras T. Farr's childhood bully, who mocked the crew for the meagerness of their ship. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Count Morgan&lt;/span&gt; insulted him back, and caught the eye of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Mabel&lt;/span&gt;, his cousin, who gave him her monogrammed 'kerchief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.elliotnegelev.com/lp/graphics/portraits/dburd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 179px;" src="http://www.elliotnegelev.com/lp/graphics/portraits/dburd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Count Morgan, in search of his family's Ocarina of Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few meaningless rolls on a non-existent random encounter table, the ship arrived in Barbados. The party sold &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Chartreusebeard &lt;/span&gt;the coffee and learned from him that &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Black Velma, the sea witch&lt;/span&gt;, was living nearby on Prickly Pear Island. C-beard gave them a compass to find her and a bejeweled conch-shell. He also gave them the warning that she was held captive by some fiend they must slay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.buycostumes.com/mgen/merchandiser/12882.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 232px;" src="http://images.buycostumes.com/mgen/merchandiser/12882.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scallywag, a realistic role-model for all the girls out there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignoring the rumor they'd heard that the Sea Witch had a new boyfriend, the party landed on her island, snuck up to her cave, and shot an unsuspecting centipede creature in the back. Then a mighty battle ensued with the centipede's brothers and father, an enormous monster with a Tougness save of +11 named &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;George Cauldron&lt;/span&gt;. After slaughtering the monsters, they learned that they were - in fact - the Sea Witch's husband and children, and that C-beard was a jealous ex-boyfriend. However, the gift of the bejeweled conch shell helped the Sea Witch forgive and forget, and she gave them an indigo-based recipe to cure the orphans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.angelfire.com/tv/mYsterykiSs/images/Frank_Frazetta__Sea_Witch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.angelfire.com/tv/mYsterykiSs/images/Frank_Frazetta__Sea_Witch.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Black Velma, the Sea Witch, and George Cauldron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-6502489153770306862?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/6502489153770306862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=6502489153770306862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6502489153770306862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6502489153770306862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/07/bepoisoned-orphans.html' title='&quot;The Bepoisoned Orphans!&quot;'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-681404249117502074</id><published>2008-06-25T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T07:17:00.437-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dan&apos;s campaign'/><title type='text'>Escape to the Milf Woods</title><content type='html'>Where we left off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of your characters made it out of the prison alive, but&lt;br /&gt;Blacktooth the Kobold and Gorbag the Cutthroat were left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of you will quickly learn that Gorbag was chewed apart by dogs.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile Bynum, one of your party's Clerics, stayed behind to try and&lt;br /&gt;help the undserving Gorbag, and so was severly injured in the escape,&lt;br /&gt;though he is in fact above ground with the group now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile the surviving party members (who are together now) have&lt;br /&gt;decided to make a mad dash for some rocks in the distance, to hide and&lt;br /&gt;to try and get some shade. All of you feel the blistering sun&lt;br /&gt;scorching your skin as you jog across the lunar plain. It is a one&lt;br /&gt;mile run to make it to the rocks, and it is as if you are running&lt;br /&gt;across Death Valley. Your companions are faring poorly. All characters&lt;br /&gt;will suffer 1 hp of damage for each half-mile run in the daylight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One, and only one, character will notice that Guy's Cleric (Bynum) has&lt;br /&gt;dropped unconcious from sun stroke, and he will not make it to the&lt;br /&gt;rocks unassisted. Helping Bynum will undoubtly mean more damage&lt;br /&gt;sustained from the sun for the assisting character. The character who&lt;br /&gt;notices Bynum is "Sticky Vicky". What does she do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-681404249117502074?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/681404249117502074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=681404249117502074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/681404249117502074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/681404249117502074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/06/escape-to-milf-woods.html' title='Escape to the Milf Woods'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-8697008193484818001</id><published>2008-05-11T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T18:44:15.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bone In The Nose Savage</title><content type='html'>"On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being a noble, and 1 being a naked, bone-in-the-nose savage, we kill everything 8 and below."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-8697008193484818001?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/8697008193484818001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=8697008193484818001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/8697008193484818001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/8697008193484818001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/05/bone-in-nose-savage.html' title='Bone In The Nose Savage'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-6817068510019017335</id><published>2008-05-01T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T19:29:33.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May Day! May Day!</title><content type='html'>So the long and short of it was this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bronx, Granny, and Sven are exploring the caves. They come upon an opening where there is a group of maybe a dozen savage warriors. Sven suggests that Granny fly over them to distract them. Whilst the savages are chasing granny, Bronx and Sven can loot the room of their precious stones. (Bronx drools: "Oh the stones...")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granny does so. She flies over the savages' heads and out of an exit on the other side of the cave, finding a passageway that runs east-west. She windwalks down the corridor, chased by savages, only to find a dead end -- Granny is trapped! So she spends a conviction point to empower her wind and creates a gale force that the savages cannot walk against. They are pinned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/SBp8bd-tbVI/AAAAAAAAB5s/ucfSawH1G5g/s1600-h/050108_21351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/SBp8bd-tbVI/AAAAAAAAB5s/ucfSawH1G5g/s320/050108_21351.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195601931471252818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sven, Granny, and a pile of bodies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bronx and Sven take advantage of the situation to charge the savages at the end of the line. Bronx puts them to sleep and Sven "slottras" them. Granny begins attacking those at the front of the line with her longspear. They have no reach weapons to use and ranged weapons prove futile. Some of the savages realize the situation is hopeless and run off, but all told the party killed about 10 savages and grabbed a pile of loot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party paused to lick its wounds and rest, but we heard drum beats. The savages were unleashed! Escape was our only option. So we fled, but two giant caterpillars attacked us on the way out, almost killing Granny and Sven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good battle, but the decision to flee was a wise one. Where are our friends? Where will we go next?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-6817068510019017335?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/6817068510019017335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=6817068510019017335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6817068510019017335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6817068510019017335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/05/may-day-may-day.html' title='May Day! May Day!'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/SBp8bd-tbVI/AAAAAAAAB5s/ucfSawH1G5g/s72-c/050108_21351.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-8431010194921952644</id><published>2008-04-24T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T15:43:33.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting the Savages and their Savage Gorilla</title><content type='html'>While the party was exploring the  cave of savage horrors, looking for innocent natives to slaughter for some  reason that we haven’t yet determined, they heard a group of three coming toward  us. Granny flew over them to distract them while Sven crept up and “surprise  attacked” one. Mongo Von Mongosen slew the second, and the third ran away. The  party chased him into the darkness, running at breakneck speed. Sven ran so  heedlessly that he almost slammed into a wall. The corridor had hit a “T”, and  so we turned to follow the sound of the savage, happening upon him and 10 of his  tribesmen. We set upon them with a fury this world has never witnessed. Mongo  and Mountain Woman cleaved into savages left and right.  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;One of the savages raced to the  far corner of the room, to a cage with a gorilla-creature in it. Bronx successfully put the gorilla to sleep with his  magic. The trainer ran into the cage to wake the beast up, and Sven closed and  locked the door behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.boingboing.net/images/_images_slideshow_2007_11_gallery_star_trek_monsters_tmmugato.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.boingboing.net/images/_images_slideshow_2007_11_gallery_star_trek_monsters_tmmugato.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The savage gorilla, attacking Mongo von Mongosen, ably played by William Shatner. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;The trainer began hacking and slashing at the cage  gates to create an opening for himself and the gorilla, now awake, but we  overwhelmed them with our strength of arms, and collected&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;40 stones&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;2 gems (worth 1,200 silver  total)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;The group continued exploring and  found a room full of fungus, which turned out to be acid. Granny flew over the  acid to retrieve three gems (worth 1,500 silver total) from the center of the  room. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-8431010194921952644?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/8431010194921952644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=8431010194921952644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/8431010194921952644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/8431010194921952644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/04/fighting-savages-and-their-savage.html' title='Fighting the Savages and their Savage Gorilla'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-1930876920040839265</id><published>2008-04-03T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T09:04:27.042-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>The Big Battle Where Everybody Died (finally)</title><content type='html'>After having defeated the Ettins, the dragon and its rider (a druid) swooped in.  The druid cast obscuring mist, and the dragon destroyed half of the wooden walkway that were were on, plunging Django, Hordis, and Fraenir into the water and leaving Rin and Daresh disconnected and covered in fog.  After a round or two, Hordis and Fraenir made it out of the water and Daresh and Rin jumped in, trying to get to the main building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the dragon swept in for an attack.  Breath weapon, 40 points of damage.  Some made the saving throw, others didn't.  Daresh was now out of range of Fraenir's protective aura and took the full 40 points of damage it was the end of her.  Django took 30 (no save, 10 resistance) and Rin was seriously hurt as well for 20.  Sir Ector headed to the roof of the building, as did Hordis, to try to get ranged attacks and spells off on the dragon.  Django and Fraenir licked their wounds and Rin pulled himself out of the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, between various attacks (Rin, Hordis, Fraenir, Sir Ector) against the druid, we managed to kill him.  Then, the dragon snatched Rin up and begin to fly above.  Django cast grease on Rin, hoping the dragon would drop him at a safe low altitude, but alas the dragon's claws dug in.  Fraenir went on the offensive, attacking the dragon pathetically with his morningstar, his acid no use against it.  Next thing we know, the dragon has dropped Rin from 100 feet onto Hordis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rin took 50ish points of damage and splatted, while Hordis only suffered 30ish.  Then, we all retreated indoors.  After finding the empty case that used to contain the phylactery of a powerful lich that the Red Hand is using as blackmail, the dragon began crumbling the foundation of the building from below.  Django, Hordis and Sir Ector got into the bags of holding, with the group intent on escaping on Fraenir's wings.  Fraenir left the building, the dragon still unaware, picked up the body of Rin and put it into a bag of holding and began to fly into the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at the distance to shore, and knowing that he flies MUCH slower than the dragon, he realized the futility of trying to fly away.  He circled up into the air, waiting for the dragon to emerge, then he dropped the swan boat on him from 70 feet above, doing 15d6 points of damage.  It didn't kill the beast and he and Fraenir began an aerial battle with Fraenir taking the worst of it.  When all hope seemed lost, he realeased Hordis from the bag, who while falling to the lake below, assaulted the dragon with 2 scorching rays, nearly killing him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fraenir made a valiant attempt to finish the dragon off, but took the mortal blow and fell to the water, with Django and Sir Ector's bags attached to his belt.  Hordis then managed to assault the dragon a final time with 2 more scorching rays and slew the beast.  After several really horrible swim checks, he managed to make it to the surface and find Fraenir's body floating there, which&lt;br /&gt;is how we left things off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-1930876920040839265?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/1930876920040839265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=1930876920040839265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1930876920040839265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1930876920040839265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/04/big-battle-where-everybody-died-finally.html' title='The Big Battle Where Everybody Died (finally)'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-12560882892191614</id><published>2008-03-28T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T15:02:42.649-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>Return to ... the Red Hand of Doom</title><content type='html'>When last we met our adventurers, there was some doubt as to their safety, especially in that several of them were dead, two were missing, and one was lying in the middle of a lizardfolk-infested lake with no more spells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As chance would have it, Hordis and Django -- the "bard in the bag" -- survived. Sir Ector had died but "was sent back" as a dragonborn paladin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-1qV-EquvI/AAAAAAAABuI/Iog-4Gx6af8/s1600-h/paladin_t6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 185px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-1qV-EquvI/AAAAAAAABuI/Iog-4Gx6af8/s320/paladin_t6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182915671845681906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, the party was joined my the mysterious gnome Skoyer Skallengard, whose motivations were  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; obscured under a veil of secrecy and a veneer of mysticism, and the dangerous former-horde member Skankgar, who had been released from house arrest by the elves to complete her sentence performing community service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to some amazingly good rolls from Django, whose bardic knowledge is encyclopedic, and Hordis, whose investigation skills are  indefatigable, realized that the party must follow the path of history to the Thornlands, where their they can confront the evil lich king with his phylactery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.leadminingmuseum.co.uk/images/Detective_cut_out_clip.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 143px;" src="http://www.leadminingmuseum.co.uk/images/Detective_cut_out_clip.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Red Hand of Doom were able to sway the lich king to their side, all would be lost. Sir Ector made an stellar diplomacy check to convince the elves that they should carry the party by giant owl to the borders of the Thornlands. The party was on a roll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ddo.warcry.com/media/images/guides/classes/portraits/bard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 154px;" src="http://ddo.warcry.com/media/images/guides/classes/portraits/bard.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then disaster! A bullette arose from the ground and attacked. All the spellcasters were dropped to the ground, Skoyer was gored, it appeared that the party would become this creatures dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking quickly, Django cast haste. Hordis cast shocking grasp. Skoyer cast ray of dizziness. Sir Ector and Hrothgar made a few token attacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.toyarchive.com/Dungeons&amp;amp;Dragons/Prototypes/BulleteArt1a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.toyarchive.com/Dungeons&amp;amp;Dragons/Prototypes/BulleteArt1a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Skankgar did 98 points of damage in one round with her mighty scythe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://demonknight.turnodanoite.com/media/Resumo%20020%20Frenzied%20Berserker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://demonknight.turnodanoite.com/media/Resumo%20020%20Frenzied%20Berserker.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monster dead, the party continued on to the mysterious, ghost-infested shrine to some lost, fell lion god. No dout this would be their greatest challenge ever...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-12560882892191614?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/12560882892191614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=12560882892191614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/12560882892191614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/12560882892191614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/03/return-to-red-hand-of-doom.html' title='Return to ... the Red Hand of Doom'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-1qV-EquvI/AAAAAAAABuI/Iog-4Gx6af8/s72-c/paladin_t6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7154538833261069818</id><published>2008-03-27T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T13:10:19.706-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>Who is Skøyer Skallengard?</title><content type='html'>Who is Skøyer Skallengard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-ve7OEquuI/AAAAAAAABuA/Qw6VVzbUHY0/s1600-h/gnome+beguiler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 128px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-ve7OEquuI/AAAAAAAABuA/Qw6VVzbUHY0/s320/gnome+beguiler.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182480905191209698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Who &lt;/span&gt;is Skøyer Skallengard? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer to this question seems to elude&lt;br /&gt;those who ask it.  Little is known about the gnome more commonly known&lt;br /&gt;as Skøyer the Surrepititious.&lt;br /&gt;Petty con artist?&lt;br /&gt;Mastermind thief?&lt;br /&gt;Clandestine operative of an unknown power?&lt;br /&gt;Or is he the guy behind the guy behind the guy?  Rumors abound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hobbiesandgames.com/photos/DDBW017-2T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 81px;" src="http://www.hobbiesandgames.com/photos/DDBW017-2T.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who is Skøyer &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Skallengard&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the information that is known comes from the wildly varying&lt;br /&gt;accounts of those who have claimed to have adventured with him.&lt;br /&gt;Physical descriptions are all over the map, leading many to believe&lt;br /&gt;he's a myth, but reinforcing the belief of others that he frequently&lt;br /&gt;travels in disguise - and often supplements those disguises using&lt;br /&gt;magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://paizo.com/image/avatar/09-Wizard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 71px; height: 71px;" src="http://paizo.com/image/avatar/09-Wizard.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;Skøyer Skallengard? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adventuring parties tell of rarely seeing Skøyer, but seeing&lt;br /&gt;his effect on the battlefield and the enemy: impenetrable fog,&lt;br /&gt;dazzling light shows, ghostly warriors, dazed and confused monsters,&lt;br /&gt;and sleeping guards, they all knew that he was present.  None of these&lt;br /&gt;adventuring parties ever seem to have gotten any insight into WHY&lt;br /&gt;Skøyer chose to adventure with them, or what he stood to gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://wow.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/album27/gnome_001.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 84px; height: 113px;" src="http://wow.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/album27/gnome_001.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Skøyer &lt;/span&gt;Skallengard?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all do relate, however, that once he seemed to have reached his goal,&lt;br /&gt;whether it was a particular treasure or even just a seemingly&lt;br /&gt;nonsensical piece of information, he disappeared from their ranks,&lt;br /&gt;never to be seen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=9d9672473a&amp;amp;realattid=f_feaqozig0&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=vah&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=118f02d5717b8be1"&gt;http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=9d9672473a&amp;amp;realattid=f_feaqozig0&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=vah&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=118f02d5717b8be1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7154538833261069818?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7154538833261069818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7154538833261069818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7154538833261069818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7154538833261069818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/03/who-is-skyer-skallengard.html' title='Who is Skøyer Skallengard?'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/R-ve7OEquuI/AAAAAAAABuA/Qw6VVzbUHY0/s72-c/gnome+beguiler.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-6240172242293063351</id><published>2008-03-10T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T10:11:59.659-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guy&apos;s campaign'/><title type='text'>2/21/2008 -- By Death Knights beseiged!</title><content type='html'>Our heroes emerged from the spiders' lair into a dried out underground lakebed. There appeared to be a giant hole, through which the so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cameron &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Toobelain &lt;/span&gt;raced out to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instantly we were besieged by skeletons. Toobelcain and Cameron charged the undead. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fingar &lt;/span&gt;threw a tangelfoot bag. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don Pacheco &lt;/span&gt;rolled a &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;. The battle looked grim ... and then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chloroxina &lt;/span&gt;wiped them out with one turning check. Luckily she was not, "An Easter and Christmas cleric," as &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hugo &lt;/span&gt;joked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we crossed the lakebed and dropped into the hole, we found a small alcove leading into a tunnel full of statues. Naturally, we were attacked by more skeletal undead, including several death knights. They were highly resistant to turning and our mere mortal blows...until Chloroxina nailed them with a &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Nat 20&lt;/span&gt; turning check. (We were again reminded of Devina's axiom "Who needs to know the rules when you roll &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;20s&lt;/span&gt;?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don Pacheco and Toobelcain searched a wall at the end of the alcove and discovered a glyph of warding, luckily managing to disable it. It led into another section of tunnel, where we fought ghouls. They were overwhelming us with their paralytic attacks...and Chloroxina got another Nat 20 turning check to stop a lot of them. Fingar got the killing shot on the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next section of the tunnel, we fought shadows, who robbed the mighty Hugo of much of his strength (though none of his courage). Chloroxina came to again save the day with a turning attempt? and rolled a &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Nat 1. &lt;/span&gt;Failure! The battle was tense, as the shadows were incorporeal. But we managed to beat them back. Fingar cast shocking grasp. Toobelcain, Hugo, and the Don dogpiled on one shadow...and Fingar got the killing blow with a magic missile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last section of the tunnel, we found two large shadows. Don blasted one with a firebolt, and Cameron laid out a super-karate-death-punch. After we finished the last one, a mummy appeared, paralyzed Toobelcain, and manhandled the rest of the party. It took everything we had to stop him. How could we survive the next encounter...? (Guy's voice: "Bwa ha ha ha!")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-6240172242293063351?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/6240172242293063351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=6240172242293063351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6240172242293063351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6240172242293063351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/03/2212008-by-death-knights-beseiged.html' title='2/21/2008 -- By Death Knights beseiged!'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-6271108962559768448</id><published>2008-03-04T14:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T14:21:09.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewell, Dungeon Master</title><content type='html'>I literally teared up when I read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/03/04/obit.gygax.ap/index.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite bit is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The quintessential geek pastime, it spawned a wealth of copycat games and later inspired a whole genre of computer games that's still growing in popularity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death: the failed save from whence no gamer ere returns.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-6271108962559768448?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/6271108962559768448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=6271108962559768448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6271108962559768448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6271108962559768448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/03/farewell-dungeon-master.html' title='Farewell, Dungeon Master'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7728727746683815708</id><published>2008-01-18T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T06:58:14.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winds of Change ...</title><content type='html'>The evening started, as some do – and probably should – with all of us taking a little extra time to eat our dinners and warm up the gaming table over the first 40 minutes of “Snakes on a Plane.” During the naughty scene, Dan piped up, “This is what D and D should have been a long time ago!” also adding that he “loved it when Jared works blue” (whatever that means).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking up where we left off last week, Sven explored the ice cave stealthily. Greymane yelled out at him, “Are you OK?!?!?” which of course ruined the stealthiness. Luckily no savages heard him. Greymane insisted Sven explore the nearby river of ice-cold water, to which our pig farmer replied, “What does it benefit a Viking if he gains a river but loses his head?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.epilogue.net/users/megaflow/D9-viking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 276px;" src="http://images.epilogue.net/users/megaflow/D9-viking.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Sven Slotra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leading up from the river was a sheet of ice. Granny Weatherwax windwalked up to the top of the ice and saw a plateau from which two corridors lead away. There was nowhere to tie a rope so the others could climb up. Granny would have to make a Strength check to cram a spear in the ice to tie the rope to. Everyone was worried if the old crone had the might. What should the roll be? Nat 20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gdargaud.net/Photo/1024/PastelIce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.gdargaud.net/Photo/1024/PastelIce.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the party scrambled up, Mountain Woman feeling perfectly at home with such scrambling. Sven skulked down one of the corridors, with Greymane in his mind telepathically to maintain communication. Sven saw heard a group of savages fighting in a distant room. It sounded as though there had been a quarrel, so we hoped the surviving savages would be easier to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group hatched a brilliant scheme to dispatch the savages. Sven rushed in and killed one of their dogs. Thus catching their attention, he then ran back down the corridor, with them in hot pursuit, and ducked in an alcove. Mountain Woman grabbed onto the spear in the ice, acting as a decoy, so the savages and dogs would charge her. Once they were in position, Granny unleashed her wind powers, rolled a Nat 20, and spent a Conviction point to boost the power so that she produced gale-force winds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/winter/aesop/zpage109a.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/winter/aesop/zpage109a.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The winds pushed most of the savages and dogs off the icy cliff. The rest were easily dispatched. All told, Mountain Woman rolled four Nat 20s the whole night. “Who needs to read books when you roll 20s?” Devina challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sven hollered, “Not in all my primitive days have I seen such a gale! Granny, when will you stop this cursed wind?” which was, of course, responded to with Granny’s maniacal cackling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.elfwood.com/art/t/r/troman/which_witch_is_which_witch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 172px;" src="http://images.elfwood.com/art/t/r/troman/which_witch_is_which_witch.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Greymane put one of the savages to sleep with his mental powers. As the savage then, powerless, flew off the cliff to his doom, Greymane did not have time to break mental contact with his victim before he died, which dazed the shaman. It also become a kind of drug to him. Greymane made mental contact with the last remaining survivors before shoving them off the cliff as well so he could re-experience the psychotropic high of experiencing someone die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thewhitewillow.com/gallery/odinimages/odin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 344px;" src="http://www.thewhitewillow.com/gallery/odinimages/odin.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Greymane the Wanderer)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of the savages escaped, though, and returned with five more of their kin. The wind spell had elapsed, and Sven was standing at the mouth of a cavern with his spear set to receive a charge, anxious for back-up from Luntnursun and Mongo…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7728727746683815708?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7728727746683815708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7728727746683815708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7728727746683815708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7728727746683815708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/01/evening-started-as-some-do-and-probably.html' title='The Winds of Change ...'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-1596988086031108249</id><published>2008-01-11T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T21:46:41.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invasion of the Vikings!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/27/Granny_Weatherwax.jpg/230px-Granny_Weatherwax.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 176px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/27/Granny_Weatherwax.jpg/230px-Granny_Weatherwax.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Following the savage attack on the pig farm, our heroes interrogated the surviving barbarian invader and decided to follow his trail back to his lair. They explored up the stream, crossed over into a dank, dark cave, and Svin Slatra boldly decided to explore in the dark. He sensed a pig-like creature sidle up to him, and decided to offer him a piece of pork jerky. But twas no pig! Rather twas a wolf who wanted no pork jerky, but to take a bite of Svin himself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon a pack of three wolves was upon the party. Quickly they were dispatched, but they proved to be but the tip of a very dangerous iceberg, lurking in the metaphorical waters of this savage frontier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued through the cave, with Mongo the mountain man dutifully mapping for us, until we came to a pond. The record shows that the DM clearly made a serpentine gesture to indicate a creature swimming through the water. Granny Weatherwax summoned the power of the four winds to blast the water and reveal what lied beneath: a wolverine! It attacked, as did its mate from a lateral attack, but the powers of warriors like Mountain Woman and Lumskur Two-axen were too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granny windwalked over the pond to investigate, but we followed a different path, past a dangerous chasm that Mountain Woman got stuck in twice. We happened upon a family of the six savages. Guy slew two with a cleaving blow, and the rest of the party quickly dispatched the others. After pausing to rest, Svin called us, "mewling babies" and insisted he had "never seen such wetnursing." Granny continued to float, as is her way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More savages surprised us as we continued to search. Svin scored a critical and killed one stone dead. Lunskur (finally!) scored a hit with both axes at once. Even Granny eventually swung at one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night ended with us staring at a cluster of mysterious icicles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, Guy noted that this was not a campaign where we were going to look a lot of stuff up. At another, Dan assumed that Granny's initiative score was 16 -- and then Jared rolled a 14 +2 = 16! Gasp. Truly this was a night the skalds would remember. Rolling three critical hits, Devina seemed overconfident, and Guy reminded her, "This is first level: we all suck." Frequent references were made throughout the night to some mythic figure named "Star Owl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But truly the night belonged to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u238/wolfwoman2007/2ND%20ALBUM/CherokeeMountainWoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u238/wolfwoman2007/2ND%20ALBUM/CherokeeMountainWoman.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-1596988086031108249?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/1596988086031108249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=1596988086031108249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1596988086031108249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1596988086031108249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2008/01/invasion-of-vikings.html' title='Invasion of the Vikings!'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-4861234215157896106</id><published>2007-11-11T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T15:52:09.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Brutal Battle for the Bell  Tower</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ats.org/cp_images/pic2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 220px;" src="http://www.ats.org/cp_images/pic2.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;The foul legions of the Red Hand of Doom are on the march…few though we may be, we must thrust ourselves valiantly into the gaping maw of the enemy and eviscerate them….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;" &gt;Sir Ector’s &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Journal&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Entry&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Rhest&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The dust had just settled from the encounter with Korkulan the Hobgoblin Bladebearer… the party was licking its wounds…Rin was groggily rising to his feet…when the lizardmen struck again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Silently they rose from the murky water in the base of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and launched a volley of poisoned darts at us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;With a soft whimper, fair Daresh swooned…falling into gallant Sir Ector’s outstretched arms.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin whirled and before any could react he put three arrows into three lizardmen…dead…dead…dead!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then we heard them…all around us…swimming in…moving to the walls…climbing up the walls…hordes of lizardmen!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Quickly stuffing Daresh into Rin’s Handy Haversack, we dashed to meet the incoming threat.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Django and Sir Ector took up blocking positions on the second floor landing of the interior staircase.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Vowing to let none pass—let them come…let them try…ha ha ha!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Meanwhile Fraenir, Rin and Hortis made for the rooftop to rain death down upon the lizard hordes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Despite the din of the attack, Rin overheard the arcane whispers of some invisible spellcaster and quickly alerted the group to disperse. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We made for each side wall, launching arrows and acid down onto the lizard men below.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/iw061304_Tren_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 286px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/iw061304_Tren_sm.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Then…much to our dismay…the lizardmen began to swiftly climb up the very sides of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;…”Lizardmen can’t climb walls we cried incredulously”…These can”, came that weird disembodied voice!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin rained arrows…Fraenir swooped around the outside of the building and spit acid…and Hortis speared the approaching lizardmen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Deep in the bowels of the building we heard the bellow of Sir Ector’s Kiai Shout which put fear into the hearts of the enemy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As the lizardmen’s main attck neared the rooftop, Django joined us to repel boarders…casting Dispel Magic to hinder their foul advance.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Suddenly, Fraenir was confronted by the shimmering shape of a lizard man emerging from invisibility.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Shouting incomprehensibly, the lizardman fired a wand of lightening, shocking our mighty Fraenir.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On the rooftop, Rin and Django rained death on the horde of lizardmen as the clambered over the edge of the rooftop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis beautifully angled a fireball and whipped clean an entire flank!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But there foul numbers were simply too much…despite our meeting out of death with every blow…the hordes were soon upon us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis, flush with victory, slapped a lizardman across the face with his gauntlet….”Ha ha ha…I laugh at you” he said in his best imitation French accent! Meanwhile, Rin side stepped to fire three more arrows with deadly accuracy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the lizardmen had an evil plan up their sleeves (do lizardmen have sleeves????).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They bull rushed all of us…trying to push us into the gaping opening in the center of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and into the murky waters below.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Only the quick thinking Django was able to thwart their plan, fooling the attack with a well timed Mirror Image—which caused his attackers to go flying over the edge with naught in their hands. Rin and Hortis, however, were overwhelmed and pushed over the edge in a swarm of lizardmen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our combined defense was now broken up into three solo battles throughout the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and the underwater struggle of Hortis and Rin below.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On the steps inside, Sir Ector waged a mighty battle against a host of lizardmen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Happy in heat of battle…and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.crab.rutgers.edu/%7Epbutler/rogue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 239px;" src="http://www.crab.rutgers.edu/%7Epbutler/rogue.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt; humming traditional dwarven war hymns as he worked…Sir Ector slew lizard after lizard.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He even goaded them as he swung his mighty axe…”Come you foul beasts…show me what you’ve got!!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fraenir meanwhile waged a mano on lizard battle with the spellcaster on the dock below…unfortunately, Fraenir couldn’t score a hit to save his life…and he kept getting fried by the lizardman’s lightening bolts as he used up our treasure!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Frustrated though he was, he did manage to occupy the spellcaster throughout the battle and keep him out of the greater fight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Alone on the rooftop, Django continued to confound the lizard hordes…tumbling back and forth through them while dealing blow after blow...his Dancing Sword a swirling shimmer of death!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.play.net/images/professions/new/small_ranger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 259px;" src="http://www.play.net/images/professions/new/small_ranger.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Hortis and Rin were in a race against time as they swirled in the waters below…avoiding lizardmen and other underwater obstacles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis managed to quickly pull himself free and climb atop the landing with Sir Ector.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin, though he avoided the lizardmen, was slowed and lost precious seconds trying to get free…rather then risk being captured, he cast Speed Swim and vaulted free!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By this time, we were clearly gaining the upper hand…Fraenir scored a massive hit on the spellcaster…breaking through his magical shield.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Django dealt death blow after death blow...laughing as the lizardmen tried to cut him bad!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ha ha ha ha ha…I have damage reduction…you can’t hurt me!!!!!!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis leapt into the midst of the remaining lizardmen in a seeming suicidal act…only to cast Fire Burst and immolate the lot of them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we were down to the spellcaster locked in battle with Fraenir.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Knowing he was likely to flee, Fraenir leapt on him and grappled…holding him in place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin…stepping through the opening…saw his opportunity and fired…critical hit!!!! The spellcaster fell limp in Fraenir’s arms.. his life ebbing swiftly as he realized he would never live to see the victory of the Red Hand fo Doom….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-4861234215157896106?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/4861234215157896106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=4861234215157896106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/4861234215157896106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/4861234215157896106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/11/brutal-battle-for-bell-tower.html' title='The Brutal Battle for the Bell  Tower'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7179701932920961943</id><published>2007-11-05T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T10:12:23.861-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jessica: home-made d6</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/Ry9czHw2OtI/AAAAAAAABPY/7nB3venFBJs/s1600-h/102907+Jessica+d6+raddish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 379px; height: 284px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/Ry9czHw2OtI/AAAAAAAABPY/7nB3venFBJs/s320/102907+Jessica+d6+raddish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129420533925296850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my niece Jessica, who made a d6 out of a radish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7179701932920961943?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7179701932920961943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7179701932920961943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7179701932920961943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7179701932920961943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/11/jessica-home-made-d6.html' title='Jessica: home-made d6'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TtYA1-bWdfw/Ry9czHw2OtI/AAAAAAAABPY/7nB3venFBJs/s72-c/102907+Jessica+d6+raddish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7465978877240716231</id><published>2007-11-03T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T22:00:39.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fraenir - how to play him</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Paul sent me this in an email one week where he couldn't come to give some tactics on your and my favorite Dragon Shaman. Here it is should we need it again later&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jared,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it should be mostly self-explanatory, but here are a couple of&lt;br /&gt;things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Hit points: I have a blank sheet of paper in the stack of pages of&lt;br /&gt;his character sheet that should have his current hit points.  I think&lt;br /&gt;its around 1/2, since I had been using my aura to fast heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Breath weapon: every 1d4 rounds, its 3d6, with a DC of 18, I think&lt;br /&gt;(on the sheet)  I can also cut the damage in half and entangle people.&lt;br /&gt;Its a feat called "entangling exhalation" and it might be in races of&lt;br /&gt;the dragon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Flying: I can only fly Con bonus rounds at a time, but I can glide&lt;br /&gt;in between (20 feet forward for every 5 feet down) so I can be up for&lt;br /&gt;a long time.  I can also do a dive attack while flying and get 2x&lt;br /&gt;damage (it works like a charge, otherwise)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Healing. I haven't used my healing touch yet.  Its 2xdragon shaman&lt;br /&gt;levelxCHA bonus points per day, distributed however.  With the cloak&lt;br /&gt;of charisma I got from Django, its up to 2x6x3=36 points of instant&lt;br /&gt;healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Auras: the most useful tonight would probably either be the DR&lt;br /&gt;2/magic (especially against snipers) or the Acid resistance 10 (useful&lt;br /&gt;against the razorfiends or if we fight a black or green dragon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Morningstar: I get up to CON bonus acid surges per day that do an&lt;br /&gt;additional 2d6.  Obviously may not make sense against dragons or&lt;br /&gt;razorfiends.  I haven't used any of them yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Paul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7465978877240716231?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7465978877240716231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7465978877240716231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7465978877240716231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7465978877240716231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/11/fraenir-how-to-play-him.html' title='Fraenir - how to play him'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-6131517948436522060</id><published>2007-11-01T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T20:22:28.191-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>11/01/07 - A world of darkness and short sword-edness</title><content type='html'>&lt;movie style="font-style: italic;" announcer="" voice=""&gt;In a world of darkness and short-sword-edness, one hobgoblin was going to show the Blue Hand Group, I mean, the Copper Tones, the meaning of terror. His name? Karkulan. His weapons? Two short swords. His target? The Copper Tones. His goals? Unsu&lt;/movie&gt;&lt;movie style="font-style: italic;" announcer="" voice=""&gt;ccessful!&lt;/movie&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Our story begins with Sir Ector (the Magnificent) and Rincarvornon rowing madly &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thepeoplescube.com/images/Elf_dead_138.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 121px;" src="http://www.thepeoplescube.com/images/Elf_dead_138.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;through the lake to catch up with their friends at the tower. Three lizardmen fired darts at Rin, felling him instantly with a plot-paralysis that even his elven resistance could not block. Sir Ector scared them away with two &lt;i style=""&gt;kiai&lt;/i&gt; shouts. Once Sir Ector made it to the tower, he hurled Rincarvornon over his shoulder and proclaimed, “Never fear, my small-bottomed, elven companion! Dwarves make light of burdens.”&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the m&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/dx0202ex_redhand_hobgoblin1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 248px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/dx0202ex_redhand_hobgoblin1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eantime, Django and Fraenir – with an invisibility spell’s cloak to hide them from their enemies piercing eyes – went to investigate the bell tower in the center of the lake. It was guarded by two ferocious ettins. Their armor was thick and their shields were broad. They have many javelins to hurl at our copper-hued heroes. While exploring, Dan rolled a 6 on a Spot check and – quite brazenly – claimed it as a cocked dice. When he re-rolled? A 1. I think we all learned an important lesson that day. &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However, our two spellcasters – who usually make light work of massive numbers of foes – were in the fight for their lives against the vicious Karkulan, a two short sword-wielding hobgoblin under a flight spell. He hacked and slashed at Hordis, under a levitate spell, dropping him to -10 hit points. Hordis, a noble figure, hung there suspended in the air under the levitate spell’s influence, unable to drop, his blood floating like from those Klingons in “Star Trek VI” when the gravity goes out. A terrified Daresh ran down the tower stairs to avoid becoming Karkulan’s next victim.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But Sir Ector – who had contributed precious little to this portion of the campaign – moved into fully inspiring, marshal mode and uttered some words of encouragement that boosted Hordis’s endurance by 3 hit points. The warmage was spared a dusty death at a hobgoblin’s hands. “The blood of 1,000 hobgoblins is on my boots, Karkulan!” Ector said. “I aim to make it 1,001 today!” &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Incensed, Karkulan flew into Sir Ector. After a might exchange of blows, Karkulan struck the dwarf with two critical hits in the same round. 45 points of damage! The two short swords penetrated up under Sir Ector’s armor and bit into his corpulent flesh. “Your blood will flow like a flountain, dwarf,” Karkulan sneered, and spat in Sir Ector’s face. Sir Ector, with only six hit points, responded with a mighty blow --- that utterly missed. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Rincarvornon lay t&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dqshrine.com/dq/dq3gb/dq3gbart08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 243px;" src="http://www.dqshrine.com/dq/dq3gb/dq3gbart08.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;here helplessly, paralyzed…playing dead his only defense. If Sir Ector fell, there would be none to save the elf. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then(!) appearing as a flash of arcane might and stunning southern-continental Asiatic beauty, Daresh emerged from the first floor of the tower and blasted Karkulan with a scorching ray. With the extra +1 from her Point Blank Shot just barely enabling her to strike Karkulan’s touch AC, she destroyed him – saving Ector, Rin, and Hordis. Truly, Daresh was the hero of the day. (Of course, if Mark gave all of us magic items worth 180,000 GP, we’d probably be doing OK too. I’m just saying.) &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;However, our heroes’ respite was a brief one. Twenty lizard-folk emerged from the water and surrounded the weakened warriors. Even though Django appeared and administered some emergency healing, Ector, Hordis, and Daresh had about 15 hit points between the three of them.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The lizardfolk were led by a mighty, plate-mail garbed warrior – whom a cunning Hordis instantly dec&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/mmiii_gallery/83018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 248px;" src="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/mmiii_gallery/83018.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;iphered as an illusion, indicating that some fell spellcaster gives aid to our enemies. It appeared that the hammer would strike hard at our heroes when Fraenir screamed through the air like a flash of invisible, copper-hued lightning to heal Ector back to max hit points just in time. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The lizards moved to attack! Hordis wiped out half of them with a fireball. Daresh brought the other half to within an inch of death with another. Some quick sword play (including two virtually wasted natural 20s in a row from Ector) dispatched them quickly. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;But hark! In the distance, Fraenir sensed the approach of greenspawn razorfiends! And 40 more lizardfolk! And a black dragon!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nwn2resources.com/images/screenshots/actiii/batha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.nwn2resources.com/images/screenshots/actiii/batha.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Copper Tones withdrew into the tower, hoping that this would not be their last stand and that they might yet escape and save the lands from the Red Hand of Doom. Luckily, they had earned enough exThe Copper Tones withdrew into the tower, hoping that this would not be their last stand and that they might yet escape and save the lands from the Red Hand of Doom. Luckily, they had earned enough experience to level up. Would that be enough power to withstand the coming assault? &lt;/p&gt;                              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Surely. Their enemies will crash upon them like water on rock.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-6131517948436522060?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/6131517948436522060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=6131517948436522060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6131517948436522060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/6131517948436522060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/11/110107-world-of-darkness-and-short.html' title='11/01/07 - A world of darkness and short sword-edness'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7512810897229617594</id><published>2007-10-20T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T18:16:23.137-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>Into the Belly of the Beast</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;In crossing salt marshes, your sole concern should be &lt;a name="611"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;to get over them quickly, without any delay. &lt;a name="612"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If forced to fight in a salt-marsh, you should have water &lt;a name="613"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and grass near you, and get your back to a clump of trees. –Sun Tzu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Our party paused briefly after our short but violent encounter with the lizard men…would the alarm be raised…would we be exposed…tensely we floated in our canoes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the bussing of insects and the dripping blood of lizard men was all we heard…our battle appeared to have gone unnoticed throughout the vast lake and its environs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We scanned the area with our spyglass…in the scattered lizard men encampments they appeared to be going about their business…in the large canted &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; we could see the still forms of hobgoblin sentries.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We held a short (ok…maybe too short) war council to determine our next steps…Django and Hortis—advocates of the sublime—wanted to fireball everything and go in shooting…Rin argued for waiting til nightfall and then sneaking in under cover of darkness…Fraenir split the difference and offered to fly in to conduct reconnaissance from above with the assistance of two potions of invisibility…and so, while the rest of the party sidled up to some low ruins, Fraenir disappeared and launched off on his mission.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"&gt;  &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;  &lt;v:formulas&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;  &lt;/v:formulas&gt;  &lt;v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"&gt;  &lt;o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"&gt; &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1028" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style="'position:absolute;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image001.jpg" href="http://www.mirf.ru/Articles/1/200/dd_hobgoblins.jpg"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;His flight took him past the faded glory of Rhest…glorious statues of past heroes…now crusted with age and neglect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The former &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;…slowly sinking into the muck was now canted at a wild angle.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Clearly this was one of our enemy’s key sites—they had built a pier all around the outside at water level and had a few skiffs tied up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Swinging up and over the tower he had a perfect view of the hobgoblin sentries…four of them…one at each quadrant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;appeared to be more than your average hobgoblin, and well armed with composite longbows and more arrows than you could ever want.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The old bell was still there, but appeared to be no longer functional (righttttttt). As he circled over head, he was also able to spy on the other large structure in the lake…this one too showed the faded glory of old Rhest…the pillars…the statues…the stonework that would make a dwarf weep…beauty that would make an elf long for the woodlands…grandeur that make a human think of vast treasure!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This building too had a pier at waters edge…some long low structure attached…and other signs of habitation.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Fraenir…decided he had the opportunity to take out the sentries with a coup de grace…thereby ensuring our stealthy entry into the heart of Rhest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He landed on the edge of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and lined himself up with two of the sentries…breathing his acid weapon, he seared &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;the flesh off their faces...but unfortunately, they did not die instantly…nor did they panic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Springing into action, the hobgoblins moved to defend themselves…except for one who ran to the old bell and began whacking it with his sword…bong…bong…bong… bong… bong…the strident sounds carried off across the otherwise quiet lake…so much for stealth (ah well…the best laid plans of mice and men—and dwarves, elves and dragon shamen).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The battle high atop the Bell Tower turned into a hide and seek between Fraenir and the hobgoblins…they peeking over the sides and firing arrows…Fraenir hopping from wall to wall and popping up to breath acid…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Meanwhile, the rest of the party…equally startled by the toning of the bell…scanned the lake.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everywhere, we saw signs of the lizard men responding to the alarm…all appeared to be moving towards the largest building in the lake….some by boat…others by swimming.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Clearly&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;they were carrying out some pre-established strategy triggered by the alert.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Obviously this larger building was the main focus of the enemy—the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; was simply an outpost.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;With the enemy clearly focused on the other structure, we opted to make our way to the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; to join the fight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Modifying our strategy enroute, we figured if we could take the Tower and then let things settle down, we could launch our attack on the main target from there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin, for one, did not want to be fighting lizard men from a boat in the water…a sentiment echoed by the stalwart but clearly not buoyant Sir Ector…and so we set off rowing…and rowing…and rowing…and rowing…(omg…how long does it take to get their!!!???)…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1027" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image002.png" href="http://pbem-portal.com/org/rpgrealms/ThunderCanyon/Graphics/lizardmen.gif"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Back at the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, the battle raged…arrows taking on acid in a major smack down…hobgoblins began to fall...their flesh eaten away…eyeballs dangling…Freanir too was taking damage...there were simply too many arrows to dodge.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mean while, we rowed…and rowed… and rowed… and rowed… and rowed… and rowed… and rowed… and rowed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Finally, Django got fed up with the slow pace of the canoe and decided to fly into the battle using his scroll.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By luck of the draw, Daresh and Hortis were with him in his canoe…and so they got free rides as well…fortunately, there was no one around to hear the collective dwarven and elven expletives that streamed from Rin and Sir Ector as they realized that they were being consigned to a long, arduous paddle across the vast lake...in elven, even the expletives…&lt;i style=""&gt;thes…kyr pas air…&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;mor thes kyda…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;seemed to spring from Rin’s lips like a gentle song as compared to the more deep toned bass of Sir Ector’s comments…&lt;i style=""&gt;nikh…&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;shtath nikh pel kasht…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;ghac dar a dholec aruul'daan…if this were Ebberon, we could harness a fire elemental and really get some speed out of this bathtub!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image004.jpg" href="http://www.slappy.net/bm/1999/man/fireball.JPG"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Even in flight, the trek across the lake too some time…giving Django, Hortis and Daresh a grand view of the battle as the approached.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fraenir was locked in combat with the hobgoblins as more and more of them poured up out of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; to the rooftop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The tide appeared to be turning in his favor, when he was stunned by the sudden appearance of a vicious hobgoblin immediately next to him…”I am Korkulan—Blade Bearer of the Red Hand of Boom—I will kill you all for daring to defy us!...Clearly this was no ordinary hobgoblin…he was well armed with two swords which he was obviously proficient with.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His assault, however, was thrown off by the timely arrival of Django and his train of hangers-on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis and Daresh launched fireballs at the &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;tower.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Though they were startled to see the first bend around some glyph of protection in a stunning display of magic on magic combat, they were able to tell that their powers had prevailed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The second fireball blasted through to the tower roof…taking out many of the enemy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The aerial combat raged…but the hobgoblins arrows were no match for the fireballs and magic missiles of our mages!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;With the newly arrived reinforcements, the hobgoblins were wiped out on the rooftop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Of Korkulan however, there was no sign…where had he gone…what was he planning…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Meanwhile, Rin and Sir Ector rowed on and on and on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Actually, it was mostly Sir Ector rowing…Rin kept getting distracted by his spyglass, watching the battle from afar and pondering his discussions with Killiar Swiftarrow about how to become an Order of the Oath Bow Initiate…ever the quick witted one, he would quickly dip his paddle into the water whenever Sir Ector turned around.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And so as our evening drew to a close, our grand plan seemed to be somewhat in shambles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Clearly the lake was well alerted to our presence…the forces of the enemy were gathered at the main building…we were now largely in control of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Bell&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Tower&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; (or so we think)…but with Korkulan still about—and we know he can go invisible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;" lang="FR"&gt;Hobgoblns: &lt;a href="http://www.mirf.ru/Articles/1/200/dd_hobgoblins.jpg"&gt;http://www.mirf.ru/Articles/1/200/dd_hobgoblins.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Lizardmen: &lt;a href="http://pbem-portal.com/org/rpgrealms/ThunderCanyon/Graphics/lizardmen.gif"&gt;http://pbem-portal.com/org/rpgrealms/ThunderCanyon/Graphics/lizardmen.gif&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Fireball: &lt;a href="http://www.slappy.net/bm/1999/man/fireball.JPG"&gt;http://www.slappy.net/bm/1999/man/fireball.JPG&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 6pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7512810897229617594?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7512810897229617594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7512810897229617594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7512810897229617594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7512810897229617594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/10/into-belly-of-beast.html' title='Into the Belly of the Beast'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-7606792623849495047</id><published>2007-10-14T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T19:59:20.387-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red Hand of Doom'/><title type='text'>The Assault on Rhest</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a short rest with the elves of Kirin Tor, we realized we had to press on to meet the impending threat of the Red Hand of Doom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sellyria Starsinger, Trellara Nightshadow and Killiar Arrowswift recommended that we proceed to Rhest with all haste to uncover the source of the vicious Razorfiends and whatever other evil lurked within the ruins.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our new friends, the wild elves of Kirin Tor, provided us with lots of great information on the history of Elsir Vale and the ruins of Rhest—the most disturbing of which was the revelation that the city had been flooded to kill off the last goblinoid horde that had sacked the city.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As we made our preparations for the campaign, it became clear that we would not be able to bring Sir Ector’s dire boar and Daresh’s trusty steed (though the image of a dire boar merrily swimming through the fens was quite amusing).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sir Ector tearfully bade his mount farewell—only agreeing to leave him behind with assurances that he would not be the guest of honor at the next elven loau.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And so our intrepid band bid a fond adieu to our companion Gade Goodberries—the smallest member of the party with the biggest balls.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1027" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;margin-left:252pt;margin-top:112pt;width:171.15pt;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image003.jpg" title="apocalypse_now-willard"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;In our elven war canoes, we paddled through the hot stagnate &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Fens&lt;/st1:place&gt;…insects buzzing all around us (fortunately no bore beetles!).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stopping only to camouflage our canoes, we made all haste towards Rhest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While the stronger members of our band put their backs into the paddling, Rin scanned the way ahead with his new prized possession—the spyglass loaned to us by the elves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ahead we spied a lizard man encampment on the edges of the great lake surrounding Rhest and some sort of figures atop the largest building in the center of the flooded Rhest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In hushed whispers, we held a quick war council to decide our course of action.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Fireball em!”, advocated Django, “Just wipe em out!”; “No, stealth is the answer”, countered Fraenir, “Let’s skirt the far side of the river, and lay in a fog bank to obscure us—that way we can get to the center unobserved”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Bah, sneaking in never works...the DM is omniscient”, scoffed Django.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We voted and opted&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;for stealth over blasting, so we quietly paddled along the far shore…passing outpost after outpost…our camouflage working time after time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As as drew near the encampment, Daresh laid in a fog bank opposite the lizard man encampment…while it obscured us, it apparently caught the attention of the lizard men as they had never seen such an atmospheric phenomenon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We overheard the excited voices and caught the sound of some of them sliding into the water to investigate.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Django created a massive alligator in the water near us to scare off any that would approach us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately, that is where our luck ran out…suddenly, six lizard men popped up on an island in front of us...there was no way to hide.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Django instantly blasted one with his longbow, burying an arrow deep in its shoulder.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin joined in, dropping two of them with killing shots.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sir Ector and Daresh pappered them with arrows as well but those passed harmlessly by.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hortis launched an orb of electricity, but missed and hit the water, killing scores of fish instead (ummmm…dinner).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The lizard men tried to attack us, but were distracted by the alligator illusion.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Another round of volleys from our band wiped them out handily.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ahh sweet victory we thought…but our elation was short lived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Suddenly, our boats were rocked from below…Sir Ector, Django and Fraenir all fell over the sides; while Rin, Hortis and Daresh managed to keep their balance and hang on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Six more lizard men had attacked us from under the water—three against each of our war canoes!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1028" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;margin-left:288.6pt;margin-top:0;width:125.4pt;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image005.jpg" title="LizardMan"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Django, fighting from the wtare, launched his dancing sword to dual with the nearest lizard man.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Daresh blasted one with a magic missile…the stench of burning flesh wafting into the air.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rin looking down from the canoe, shot point plank into the face of another…taking some damage in the exchange.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The tide turned swiftly, however, when Fraenir maneuvered around the end of the canoe and breathed a line of acid all down the line of lizard men…Their flesh and eyes melted away from the faces…their tendons snapping as they writhed in agony…but it was over all too soon…their skeletal faces slipping beneath the murky fens as they joined the rotting vegetation on the floor of the fens.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sir Ector eliminated the last survivor with a critical hit…swing down from above and cleaving his head in two.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;As the battle drew to a close, we believed we had not drawn the attention of anyone deeper in the flooded city of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Rhest&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fraenir, mumbled in lizard man…”Ummm…nothing to see here…everyone go on home…it’s all over…no need to ring the alarm bell…”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Scanning the city one last time, we were able to determine that the figures on the large building in the middle were hobgoblins…setting up the battle for the next round…. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-7606792623849495047?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/7606792623849495047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=7606792623849495047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7606792623849495047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/7606792623849495047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/10/assault-on-rhest.html' title='The Assault on Rhest'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-668967590164940841</id><published>2007-10-06T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T20:39:04.814-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True 20'/><title type='text'>Old Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got.&lt;br /&gt;Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't you like to get away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you want to go…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.&lt;br /&gt;You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same&lt;br /&gt;You wanna be where everybody knows your name…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"&gt;  &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;  &lt;v:formulas&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;  &lt;/v:formulas&gt;  &lt;v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"&gt;  &lt;o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"&gt; &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1027" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style="'position:absolute;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\02\clip_image001.jpg" href="http://www.nobodyasked.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/04/windowslivewriterbitingtheheadsoffchocolatecuckoos-6c19eastereggs3.jpg"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Mr. Tidbits, so wigged out by the rats that had tried to grabble him and pull him down the well to their vile lair, had run back to town to summon Ruttiger—the Rat Catcher.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Vowing never to re-enter the dungeon until every rat had been exterminated, Mr. Tidbit’s refused to return with him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And so instead, he remained in town, working on some esoteric physics thing involving higher math like long division.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Meanwhile, our intrepid band beat feet back to the rat room…hmmm, do we want to really do this?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Well, we’re certainly not going to throw a silver coin down the well”, said Lo Dic…so Perrier…not really paying attention, thought Lo Dic had said throw a cpoin down the well…so he did….presto, instant rats!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tons of minion rats…one big ass dire rat…Ruttiger the Rat Cather was in his element…he quickly wailed on one…spearing it through and through…then leap over the rat swarm to attack the dire rat leader.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pork Cullis blasted through one rat with his mighty battle axe, spewing rat guts and blood everywhere.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not to be outdone in the disgusting acts department, Lo Dic went Ozzie Osborne on one of the poor, innocent rodents rolled a successful grapple check…bit the poor thing’s head off…and spit it at the dire rat leader [ok…it’s a rabbit biting the head off a chicken…but you have to admit it is 1. interesting and 2. at least evocative of the act…ok, maybe it does look like something else, but only if you have a dirty mind…].&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perrier, caught up in the moment, produced a flame and waved it over his head…thinking “wow, what an awesome concert this is...what’s that smell??” Then the fight got confusing…everyone trading blows and bites…shrugging off disease…until finally we triumphed…all the vile rats were dead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then a great cry of anguish was heard...”oh noooooooooooooooo…..I forgot to “catch any” moaned Ruttiger.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\02\clip_image003.jpg" title="starowl"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Obviously this was great evil temple in the making…rough hewn sections…the well polished room…if only we could identify the etching in work (maybe we shouldn’t have killed the undead artist before his second life was over…)…who is that figure?…seems naggingly familiar…but just can’t place it…like its hanging their right on the outer edges of our memories…teasing us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And so, we shrugged our shoulders (resigned to the fact that all would be revealed in its proper time…it always is…such is the comfort of having a DM…) and headed further down deeper into the dungeon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our wise leader Star Owl (full name Mas Orn sar thor col ail si shaerorer bol mia eistyl si caelael …which means &lt;i style=""&gt;Star Owl that flies high in the beautiful night sky amongst the heavens&lt;/i&gt;) decided that we should proceed down the long passageway—which was the only path we had not yet investigated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“How does he do that” Pork Cullis marveled, “He’s so smart, I never would have thought of that…”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Well no duh”, muttered Loe Dic to himself, “anyone could have called that one, you can see the flow of the stone work…clearly this is meant to funnel people to the lower level.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Elves…always think they are so smart”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Ouch”, thought the startled Ruttiger, “Who just hit my head with an iron frying pan??!!” Clearly the years of spousal abuse had left him traumatized. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1028" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\02\clip_image005.jpg" title="elf_archer700"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Then we happened upon an area of completed stone work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A large iron bound door blocked our way.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After fruitless searches and listening, we gave up and opened the door.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Aha! An evil temple…rows of statues of Gorgotha filled the chamber. If only this were D&amp;amp;D and we had ranks in knowledge arcana…or religion…or local…or something.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Deploying in combat formation, we quickly spread throughout the room looking for action…and there it was…a huge snake slithering down the center of the room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then battle was on…ranged weapons peppering from afar…melee fighters wading in to trade blow for blow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then suddenly we were faced with three other snakes that spread throughout the room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pork Cullis lasted one…smugly stating “That’s a DC 23 for the saving throw”…”I know I don’t need to keep saying it; but it is so satisfying…”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perrier and Star Owl fought their own battles…Perrier happily singing away as he did &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;“O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true and bold,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;And win with them the victor’s crown of gold.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Alleluia, Alleluia!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;And hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Alleluia, Alleluia!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Star Owl...now revealed as the mighty warrior that he was…turned his snake into a long pin cushion.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Back in the major battle, things were not progressing well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ruttiger scored a near critical hit, only to be grappled by the snake and almost staggered, stun, and disabled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pork Cullis and Lo Dic simultaneously raised their axes…gaining additional attack bonuses using the dreaded “arm pit hair and smell attack”…and finally, the last snake was defeated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Star Owl, wanting harmony in the world, quickly healed Ruttiger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the sudden silence of the post-battle, we gazed about the vile chamber…wondering who would have created a tribute to such a vile goddess as Gorgotha??? Failing to find any treasure in the room, we moved to the double doors at the far end…readying our actions, we swung them open…revealing the unholy alter chamber and two figures…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_s1029" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'position:absolute;margin-left:314.75pt;margin-top:19.05pt;width:117.25pt;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\User\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\02\clip_image007.jpg" title="bugbear"&gt;  &lt;w:wrap type="square"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Slowly they turned…one, clearly a priest…though not quite right…too pale to be living (hmmm…and honestly, kind of flat)….he looked vaguely familiar, but still we couldn’t noodle it through.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His apparent minion however looked very familiar…an undead bug bear zombie…”Oh yeah, just like the General…OMG!!! Look!!! It is the General…they put him back together!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then the unholy priest spoke, “You have killed my undead army!” [which then sparked a vigorous discussion between Pork Cullis and Perrier…army? That was no army…a couple of dozen zombie…a platoon maybe…really more like a squad heavy…but an army?? Come on].&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;“I am the favorite of Gorgotha, bow before her and Serve Meeeeeeeeeee”…OMG again….it’s Ubberoth!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Die foul blasphemer!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;cried Star Owl, launching and arrow true and straight into the priest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thinking the undead Ubberoth was the primary threat, we circled him and put the hurt on him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When we almost had him down, he suddenly launched some cyber-mind attack on Lo Dic…threatening to blew his head apart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fortunately, a timely blow by…ummm, someone…killed the priest again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the battle with our former friend the General was to prove no picnic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Despite being surrounded, he survived blow after blow…how can we kill this guy???!!! Where’s a hill giant when you need one???!!!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pork Cullis, swaggering in like the massive half-orc that he is, thought he was going to plaster the general…only to be plastered himself…unconscious and dying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fortunately, Perrier (self loathing though he may be…) is a healing priest and he pulled Pork back from the edge of death.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then poor Ruttiger got blasted.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Finally, Star Owl barreled into the room…torch in hand…and set the General afire.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perrier…recognizing the opportunity…cast Increase Fire and immolated the General…sheathing him in a curtain of flame…finally, between the fire and the thousands of cuts”, we brought the general to his knees…once again returning him to the peaceful death he had long sought.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-668967590164940841?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/668967590164940841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=668967590164940841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/668967590164940841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/668967590164940841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/10/old-friends.html' title='Old Friends'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8298333116149562963.post-1450300055469390561</id><published>2007-10-03T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T17:28:35.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True 20'/><title type='text'>What are those zombies up to?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoPlainText" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Curious, we gathered for our night of adventuring…no D&amp;amp;D this…d20 we would now play…we poked at our new character sheets as Paul explained the system…no stats?...we have skills…and feats…what kind of character am I?...being Americans of course, we could stand only so much introduction before we just had to say ok…enough…let’s just play and we’ll figure it out as we go along!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;And so our intrepid party of adventurers met up in a random bar (déjà vu Mark noted), and eagerly set out to seek their fame and fortune.  Full of piss and vinegar, we heartily strode through the country-side confident that we could best any challenge.  Bolstered by the obvious strength of our band, we dared the forces of evil to attack us.  Undaunted, we traveled the hills and dales ready to root out whatever scourge may darken the countryside.  By the fifth day, we began to wonder if there were any scourges…”ain’t ya got a vile villain or two?...maybe a evil ogre?...a dragon, doesn’t matter if it’s a little one, a large lizard even?...surely some brigand band is out and about!...but no…all just seemed too peaceful…until, that is, we arrived in the town of XXXX (whatever its name was).  There the townsfolk were apprehensive.  Strange goings on they said.  Bodies disappearing from the graveyard.  Peoples who were supposed to be dead seen walking around at night…I swears, saw my uncle Octavian I did.  He died in a tragic kiln explosion; two nights after we buried him I saw him walking through town!.  “Aha”, we chorused, “deviltry afoot!  Just the thing for our daring band to tackle.  How much will you good townsfolk pay us to lay low these foul beasts?”  And then it started, oh woe is us…we are but poor village folk…you should see my mortgage…the braces…tuition…my mother’s nursing care…blah, blah, blah.  Curious, we asked them if the knew Duke; but they professed ignorance.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Quickly realizing we were wasting our time negotiating for payment, we opted to make our fortunes on treasure recouped from whatever monsters we slew.  And so we hasten to the graveyard…stationing ourselves throughout the hallowed grounds.  It was a full moon of course; casting a bright but eerie glow that glinted off the tombstones.  Long about midnight, we heard an odd sound…clink…scrape…scuffle…clink…scrape…scuffle…a group of four figures slowly made their way into the graveyard and sought out a freshly filled grave.  As they raised their shovels to dig, Mark cried out “What ho miscreants!”  Surprisingly, they paid him no heed.  So we attacked…[which of course generated lots of discussion as we had to be convinced that we only needed a d20…no other dice…but they all match, see!!...doesn’t matter, you only roll one die…grumble, grumble, it’s like buying all those 3.5 books and then they go put out 4.0].  And so the fight was on… bang, bash, bat, belt, bludgeon, bop, bust, clap, clobber, clout, crack, hammer, knock, paste, pound, punch, rap, slam, slap, slog, slug, smack, smite, sock, strike, swat, swipe, thump, thwack, wallop, whack, whale, zap…hmmm…this new system is interesting…you can get wasted in one blow with this whole stunning thing…and the saving throw, that increases the pucker factor just a bit. Of course the forces of good triumphed and we laid waste to the four zombies.  Which of course meant that we still did not know why they were doing this…who had sent them on this foul mission…for what nefarious motive where they digging up new corpses??? Unfortunately, it was only then that we realized that perhaps it would have been a better plan to have followed them back to their lair before killing them…oh well…no problem, we’ll just track them back…ok, who has tracking as a skill…not me…not I…nope…I have no skills…hmmm, think it was the rat catcher…and he’s not here…drat!...fortunately, the zombies had been dragging their shovels and making no effort to cover their tracks, so it was determined that even us poor, untrained folk could track them back to their lair (of course this was not before Devina claimed our treasure—several articles of zombie clothes…ummmmm…stylin! [what will the villagers think of those naked zombies in the grave yard?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Of course the trail led us underground, where we heard the distant sound of pick axes on stone.  Skulking slowly and quietly along, we snuck up on a scene from the depths of hell.  A work party of zombies was toiling away in a room…urge on by a lizard man of some sort.  Quickly sizing up the situation, we laid out a plan of attack…though Guy argued for the subtlety of the “barge in and clobber ‘em” approach, the proponents of the “turn the lizard man into a pin cushion” attack won out (only because we could fire faster).  The missile approach proved interesting as our bolts and arrows not only wounded the beast, but under this new system, they stunned him and effectively took him out of the fight.  Though his zombie minions turned and attacked us, they were no match for our finely honed combat powers.  After making short work of them (thanks to the new “minion rule”…BTW, minions suck, don’t ever buy those!), we were poised to deliver a coup de grace on the lizard man when Mark opted to heal him instead…what did you do that for, I wanted to kill him Guy muttered.  So we can question him and find out what’s going on answered Mark, clearly very impressed with his cleverness.  Ok, lizard man, tell us everything or we’ll kill you all over again.  Obviously fearful for his life, he readily answered…hisssssssssss…hissssssssssssss…hisssssssssssssssss…hissssssssssss…ummmm, anyone speak lizard? Nope.  Chop!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;This scene was repeated one more time as we ventured further into the dungeon and came across another lizard man and his zombie minions.  Clearly this was the higher skilled set of zombies as they were working on the finer touches to what appeared to be a evil temple of some sort.  Again, peppering the lizard man with ranged weapons we neutralized his role in the battle.  Sam, though grumbling at playing a cleric, cast rage on Guy’s character [ok, so I get tired when I use magic…I need a bed roll]…only to find out that rage in d20 is nowhere near as effective as rage in 3.5.  This battle yielded the highlight of the evening, as Mark failed his saving throw…nonchalant roll, casual glance at the result, eyes bug out, face recoils in horror…it’s a 1!!! DOH!!!…fortunately it was not a deadly result and he recovered.  Despite our set backs, we managed to wipe out this work party as well.  And then set about searching for our well earned treasure.  Finding a small back room with two beds, we knew we had hit pay dirt…Devina viscously attacked the mattresses…ripping them to shreds. They always hide their treasure in the mattress she said…that’s what I do!...but to no avail…no treasure to be had…hmmmm, what about this well over here…maybe it’s down there…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;Tentatively we peered down into the well…the rough hewn stone plunged as deep as we could see…consumed by the darkness…how far did it go we wondered…Devina, always willing to take a gamble…dropped a silver piece (which she noted…is equal to 10 copper pieces, or 1/10th of a gold piece).  We listened as the coin pinged off the sides of the well…the sounds getting more and more muffled as it fell. Before we heard it hit bottom however, the noise was overpowered by a rising squeaking sound…whatever could that be…why do the walls of the well look like they are moving???  OMG….it’s RATS!!!!!...where’s the Rat Catcher when you need him!!!!!  Thankfully, we had torches aplenty and waving them wildly over the top of the well we were able to send the rat horde scurrying back on itself…as rat turned on rat however, the scene turned ugly…unable to maintain a foothold, many of the rats fell to their deaths…their small bodies hurtling to the bottom of the well and impacting with sickening thud after sickening thud…whomp, splat, squish, gurgle, squeal, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt;            And so our night was brought to a close…not much to show for our toils but a lot of squished rats guts and some smelly clothes…maybe we can sell our other dice on eBay…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: navy;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8298333116149562963-1450300055469390561?l=bluehandgroup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/feeds/1450300055469390561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8298333116149562963&amp;postID=1450300055469390561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1450300055469390561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8298333116149562963/posts/default/1450300055469390561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluehandgroup.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-are-those-zombies-up-to.html' title='What are those zombies up to?'/><author><name>Whitleypedia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09529077452521025896'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>