So for my F2F group's recent end-of-year session, I DM'd a one-shot where I asked each player to come up with a lvl8 PC that would be allocated a powerful evil 'patron' that they would be fighting for as champions in a battle royale type encounter. The gist of it is that these connected arch villain types in my setting use this locale and these infrequent winner-takes-all gladatorial events to settle scores or garner favours... without all out war ensuing between the factions involved. My campaigns (we have 2 running atm) tend to be G-N alignment leaning, so I thought something more dark and sinister might be fun, but I still wanted to place it in the world where my campaigns happen. More specifically, in addition to the game just being something different and a fun way to end the year, I wanted to use the outcome of the session (i.e. the winner ensuring their patron's goal comes to pass) to demonstrate to my players that their characters actions will not only have effect in the game, but will significantly alter and shape the world itself.
Anyway, the result of the victor (a CG warforged cleric of Gond the Wonderbringer named Fabio, who was pieced together by his patron for the purpose of competing in the event) triumphing over his competitors is below. WARNING - It's long and hasn't been edited anywhere near enough. But if you're into this sort of thing, I hope you enjoy. :)
Though it did not appear so, the enemy fleet that sailed into Tatharixil's Golden Bay had been expected for sometime. Seemingly unbeknownst to the battle ready reavers aboard ship, the gulls and dolphins of the Western Trackless Sea were the best scouts that the Sunset Islanders could have ever wished for. As such, the city's druids and shamans had long since warned King Tulumak of the coming attack. The King was neither impressed nor frightened by word of the pending assault. His brave Ungatti had been repelling foreigner invasions since before the King's grandfather's grandfather's time. Surely, they would do so again this time. As such, King Tulumak and his court made ready a warm welcome for their unwanted visitors.
Entering the bay, the motley armada of Accord and Luskanite pirate ships came at the Sunset Islands' seemingly unprotected capital aggressively and without guile. Across the decks of the dozen warships, hardened crews scurried about preparing ballistae, mangonels and cannons for what many of the buccaneers expected to be a brutal but short siege. From the still distant white sand beaches and sandstone paved streets of the city, alarm bells began to ring, sending apparently surprised civilians scurrying to their homes and warriors running to form battle lines between the breakers and the twelve-foot-high outer wall that ran the length of the foreshore.
The watching pirates began to laugh cruelly, anticipating a slaughter as they reached firing range. Those laughs turned to shouts of anger however when the first volley of artillery missiles exploded harmlessly against invisible shields of force far from their feather-adorned enemies lines. Those shouts of anger then turned quickly to cries of concern when more than a score of armoured longboats appeared from either side of the bay, drums beating in time with the rowers exertions, the sleek ram-tipped vessels shedding their cloaking magic as they surged forward to attack the invading pirates.
Had this been a standard pirate raid, that might well have been the end of things. One of the smaller Luskan ships was pierced through twice by rams and immediately began to list and founder as it took on water. Another was snared by a dozen boarding lines and quickly swarmed by red-painted Sand Reaver warriors wielding spear and javelin. One of the larger Accord ships had its mainsails set alight by Ungatti archers well versed in fighting pirates by targeting canvas with enchanted flame arrows. But these reavers had not come for a simple snatch and grab raid. Nor had they come alone.
From the bowels of each ship, a horde of vicious dagger wielding kobolds boiled forth to fight alongside the pirates, furiously hamstringing and backstabbing Islander defenders everywhere they went. Atop the fore and aft castles of each ship, towering white scaled dragonborn veterans cast aside their cloaks and sprang into action, stoutly defending captains and ships wheels alike, ensuring that the pirate ships stayed on course.
More dishearteningly still to the surprised Sunset Islanders however were the two dragons that swooped down from the clouds high above the invading fleet. The winged, scaled beasts were fear and havoc manifest - terrible legend given form. A massive white wyrm quickly put out most of the sail fires with hurricane force gusts of wind from its wings, before swooping down to freeze a handful of longships and their crews with lethal blasts of cold and ice. A scarred black drake on the other side of the bay quickly set about burning holes in defender and longboat alike with its sizzling acidic breath weapon. The arrows and javelins sent at the dragons bounced harmlessly off their thick armoured hides and emboldened by their draconic allies the pirates redoubled their attacks. Archers and slingers began to exact a toll on the Ungatti sailors and warriors, even as shipboard mages appeared and began to cast fireballs and lightning bolts into the now beleaguered longships. On the waters of the bay, the battle had decidedly turned against Tatharixil's defenders.
Even still the stalwart defensive lines on the beaches might have held. More than a dozen shamans redoubled their efforts to hold the magical shield walls in place, while druids began to cast buffering enchantments on the formations of their warriors. Hundreds of steadfast Ungatti infantry rhythmically slammed the butts of their spears into the ground in defiance as most of the invading pirate ships reached the shallows and began to lower shore boats. Sunset spirits held strong... until the aberrations appeared. A handful of horrific mind-flayers stepped through conjured portals to assault the chanting shamans with psionic blasts that quickly overwhelmed the unprepared humans' will power. In timed unison, screeching bunches of gibbering mouthers materialised around each of the druids, disrupting their casting with flesh-rending bite and mind-rending babble. Before the stunned warriors of Tatharixil could muster their defences and react cohesively, a huge beholder appeared in the air far above the centre of the defensive line and began to unleash a rain of magic beams that burned, petrified and disintegrated wherever they fell. By the time the reaver laden longboats reached the beaches, the once organised battle lines of the Ungatti had collapsed. When the sabre and cutlass wielding pirates finally joined the fray, the already chaotic and lop-sided battle became a complete rout.
Far above the slaughter on a magically warded balcony protruding from the city's magnificent bronze temple-palace, a shaken King Tulumak watched his armed forces being massacred by the assorted enemies and monsters in disbelief. Unable to witness any more, the king stumbled back into the welcome shelter of his consecrated audience chamber, moving with uneven steps towards his white gold throne. Seeing his most trusted advisor receiving reports from palace runners, Tulumak took his rightful seat and composed himself as best he could before the assembled priests, courtiers and royal guards. In a voice suddenly dry with fear, he spoke to every officer and person of rank in the room, "The bay and beach defences have failed. The city below will fall. Withdraw our remaining forces here so that we might fortify our position and we will decide our next course of action."
First Sceptre Emahril's terrified look stole the king's heart before the high-priest's whispered words were even completed, "It is too late, your majesty. They are already inside our walls. We are attacked... from our own crypts!" It was then that the sounds of nearby battle began to echo into the chamber through the still open double doors. The guards stationed there quickly jumped to seal the thick reinforced barriers... but not quickly enough. A powerfully amplified word of unholy power was uttered from the suddenly darkened corridor beyond and the guards were blown violently across the floor like leaves in a storm wind. Worse still, the darkness flowed forth into the chamber, cracking and blackening the once sacred stone whereever it touched. The gathered holy-men wailed in horror when the blight reached the glowing statue of the divine Ra that occupied the centre of the chamber and shattered it into a dozen pieces. As the Sun Lord's holy light faded from the room, a horde of shadows erupted from the desecrated stones and attacked the disheartened Ungatti without mercy. Drawing wands of fire and enchanted blades, the cornered defenders held their own for a few moments, but when the wights and ghouls dressed in tattered Ungatti funeral garb began to lope into the room, still hungry from their feasting below, their doom was sealed.
As the last of his loyal followers died horribly at the hands of the undead creatures surrounding him, Tulumak cried out in ultimate despair. Four of the rotting wights held him painfully tight in their life draining claws, lifting the once proud king up to see a tall skeletal figure float almost languidly into the chamber. Adorned in glowing rune-inscribed mage robes and bearing a staff crackling with black magic, Tulumak knew then how his once blessed fortress had fallen so easily. Only one creature matched this nightmarish being and radiated the level of unholy power that he saw approaching like slow death - a lich. The king swallowed his fear, bit down on his tongue and waited for the lifeless arch-mage to end his life. Instead, Tulumak was subjected to one last terrible surprise as the desiccated wizard wordlessly conjured a magical doorway through which stepped a loathed but familiar figure.
Disgraced Sun-speaker Zumera Nucnuc-Usa, fallen high-priestess of Ra and banished noble of Tatharixil entered the body strewn chamber and glanced around with smug satisfaction plastered unashamedly across her dark, withered visage. Tulumak noted that the old crone that he had cast out of the Sunset Islands 5 years before still wore her enchanted robes, though now they were more grey than white and shot through with moving fingers of shadow. An entourage of mummified dawn-guard followed her into the chamber, as did a war-forged being that seemed a mismatched combination of other iron-crafted creatures. The hodgepodge humanoid construct seemed discomforted by its surroundings somehow, refusing to so much as glance at the carnage all around it. Instead, it fiddled with a belt that held an assortment of tools rather than weapons and waited for Zumera to speak, which she promptly did. "The riches and resources of the Island are yours to use in your pursuits, my champion. Now that my throne is secure, you will have all that I promised you and more. But remember... you must begin work on the weapon soon. It must be constructed and operational before the next solar eclipse. My new goddess will not brook failure in this matter. Now... you may go."
The war-forged left Tatharixil's now desecrated high chamber of Ra accompanied by the building screams of the deposed king. As it moved through the battle ravaged building and exited the palace-temple, it noticed the shadows it passed lengthen and grow more menacing. The cries of agony and loss that emerged from the sacked city below were a fitting counterpoint to those still ringing out from the grand pyramid behind it. The Sunset Islands had a new queen and she was not a merciful one. The kingdom of the Ungatti would never be the same again.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
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Hey all,
So for my F2F group's recent end-of-year session, I DM'd a one-shot where I asked each player to come up with a lvl8 PC that would be allocated a powerful evil 'patron' that they would be fighting for as champions in a battle royale type encounter. The gist of it is that these connected arch villain types in my setting use this locale and these infrequent winner-takes-all gladatorial events to settle scores or garner favours... without all out war ensuing between the factions involved. My campaigns (we have 2 running atm) tend to be G-N alignment leaning, so I thought something more dark and sinister might be fun, but I still wanted to place it in the world where my campaigns happen. More specifically, in addition to the game just being something different and a fun way to end the year, I wanted to use the outcome of the session (i.e. the winner ensuring their patron's goal comes to pass) to demonstrate to my players that their characters actions will not only have effect in the game, but will significantly alter and shape the world itself.
Anyway, the result of the victor (a CG warforged cleric of Gond the Wonderbringer named Fabio, who was pieced together by his patron for the purpose of competing in the event) triumphing over his competitors is below. WARNING - It's long and hasn't been edited anywhere near enough. But if you're into this sort of thing, I hope you enjoy. :)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Though it did not appear so, the enemy fleet that sailed into Tatharixil's Golden Bay had been expected for sometime. Seemingly unbeknownst to the battle ready reavers aboard ship, the gulls and dolphins of the Western Trackless Sea were the best scouts that the Sunset Islanders could have ever wished for. As such, the city's druids and shamans had long since warned King Tulumak of the coming attack. The King was neither impressed nor frightened by word of the pending assault. His brave Ungatti had been repelling foreigner invasions since before the King's grandfather's grandfather's time. Surely, they would do so again this time. As such, King Tulumak and his court made ready a warm welcome for their unwanted visitors.
Entering the bay, the motley armada of Accord and Luskanite pirate ships came at the Sunset Islands' seemingly unprotected capital aggressively and without guile. Across the decks of the dozen warships, hardened crews scurried about preparing ballistae, mangonels and cannons for what many of the buccaneers expected to be a brutal but short siege. From the still distant white sand beaches and sandstone paved streets of the city, alarm bells began to ring, sending apparently surprised civilians scurrying to their homes and warriors running to form battle lines between the breakers and the twelve-foot-high outer wall that ran the length of the foreshore.
The watching pirates began to laugh cruelly, anticipating a slaughter as they reached firing range. Those laughs turned to shouts of anger however when the first volley of artillery missiles exploded harmlessly against invisible shields of force far from their feather-adorned enemies lines. Those shouts of anger then turned quickly to cries of concern when more than a score of armoured longboats appeared from either side of the bay, drums beating in time with the rowers exertions, the sleek ram-tipped vessels shedding their cloaking magic as they surged forward to attack the invading pirates.
Had this been a standard pirate raid, that might well have been the end of things. One of the smaller Luskan ships was pierced through twice by rams and immediately began to list and founder as it took on water. Another was snared by a dozen boarding lines and quickly swarmed by red-painted Sand Reaver warriors wielding spear and javelin. One of the larger Accord ships had its mainsails set alight by Ungatti archers well versed in fighting pirates by targeting canvas with enchanted flame arrows. But these reavers had not come for a simple snatch and grab raid. Nor had they come alone.
From the bowels of each ship, a horde of vicious dagger wielding kobolds boiled forth to fight alongside the pirates, furiously hamstringing and backstabbing Islander defenders everywhere they went. Atop the fore and aft castles of each ship, towering white scaled dragonborn veterans cast aside their cloaks and sprang into action, stoutly defending captains and ships wheels alike, ensuring that the pirate ships stayed on course.
More dishearteningly still to the surprised Sunset Islanders however were the two dragons that swooped down from the clouds high above the invading fleet. The winged, scaled beasts were fear and havoc manifest - terrible legend given form. A massive white wyrm quickly put out most of the sail fires with hurricane force gusts of wind from its wings, before swooping down to freeze a handful of longships and their crews with lethal blasts of cold and ice. A scarred black drake on the other side of the bay quickly set about burning holes in defender and longboat alike with its sizzling acidic breath weapon. The arrows and javelins sent at the dragons bounced harmlessly off their thick armoured hides and emboldened by their draconic allies the pirates redoubled their attacks. Archers and slingers began to exact a toll on the Ungatti sailors and warriors, even as shipboard mages appeared and began to cast fireballs and lightning bolts into the now beleaguered longships. On the waters of the bay, the battle had decidedly turned against Tatharixil's defenders.
Even still the stalwart defensive lines on the beaches might have held. More than a dozen shamans redoubled their efforts to hold the magical shield walls in place, while druids began to cast buffering enchantments on the formations of their warriors. Hundreds of steadfast Ungatti infantry rhythmically slammed the butts of their spears into the ground in defiance as most of the invading pirate ships reached the shallows and began to lower shore boats. Sunset spirits held strong... until the aberrations appeared. A handful of horrific mind-flayers stepped through conjured portals to assault the chanting shamans with psionic blasts that quickly overwhelmed the unprepared humans' will power. In timed unison, screeching bunches of gibbering mouthers materialised around each of the druids, disrupting their casting with flesh-rending bite and mind-rending babble. Before the stunned warriors of Tatharixil could muster their defences and react cohesively, a huge beholder appeared in the air far above the centre of the defensive line and began to unleash a rain of magic beams that burned, petrified and disintegrated wherever they fell. By the time the reaver laden longboats reached the beaches, the once organised battle lines of the Ungatti had collapsed. When the sabre and cutlass wielding pirates finally joined the fray, the already chaotic and lop-sided battle became a complete rout.
Far above the slaughter on a magically warded balcony protruding from the city's magnificent bronze temple-palace, a shaken King Tulumak watched his armed forces being massacred by the assorted enemies and monsters in disbelief. Unable to witness any more, the king stumbled back into the welcome shelter of his consecrated audience chamber, moving with uneven steps towards his white gold throne. Seeing his most trusted advisor receiving reports from palace runners, Tulumak took his rightful seat and composed himself as best he could before the assembled priests, courtiers and royal guards. In a voice suddenly dry with fear, he spoke to every officer and person of rank in the room, "The bay and beach defences have failed. The city below will fall. Withdraw our remaining forces here so that we might fortify our position and we will decide our next course of action."
First Sceptre Emahril's terrified look stole the king's heart before the high-priest's whispered words were even completed, "It is too late, your majesty. They are already inside our walls. We are attacked... from our own crypts!" It was then that the sounds of nearby battle began to echo into the chamber through the still open double doors. The guards stationed there quickly jumped to seal the thick reinforced barriers... but not quickly enough. A powerfully amplified word of unholy power was uttered from the suddenly darkened corridor beyond and the guards were blown violently across the floor like leaves in a storm wind. Worse still, the darkness flowed forth into the chamber, cracking and blackening the once sacred stone whereever it touched. The gathered holy-men wailed in horror when the blight reached the glowing statue of the divine Ra that occupied the centre of the chamber and shattered it into a dozen pieces. As the Sun Lord's holy light faded from the room, a horde of shadows erupted from the desecrated stones and attacked the disheartened Ungatti without mercy. Drawing wands of fire and enchanted blades, the cornered defenders held their own for a few moments, but when the wights and ghouls dressed in tattered Ungatti funeral garb began to lope into the room, still hungry from their feasting below, their doom was sealed.
As the last of his loyal followers died horribly at the hands of the undead creatures surrounding him, Tulumak cried out in ultimate despair. Four of the rotting wights held him painfully tight in their life draining claws, lifting the once proud king up to see a tall skeletal figure float almost languidly into the chamber. Adorned in glowing rune-inscribed mage robes and bearing a staff crackling with black magic, Tulumak knew then how his once blessed fortress had fallen so easily. Only one creature matched this nightmarish being and radiated the level of unholy power that he saw approaching like slow death - a lich. The king swallowed his fear, bit down on his tongue and waited for the lifeless arch-mage to end his life. Instead, Tulumak was subjected to one last terrible surprise as the desiccated wizard wordlessly conjured a magical doorway through which stepped a loathed but familiar figure.
Disgraced Sun-speaker Zumera Nucnuc-Usa, fallen high-priestess of Ra and banished noble of Tatharixil entered the body strewn chamber and glanced around with smug satisfaction plastered unashamedly across her dark, withered visage. Tulumak noted that the old crone that he had cast out of the Sunset Islands 5 years before still wore her enchanted robes, though now they were more grey than white and shot through with moving fingers of shadow. An entourage of mummified dawn-guard followed her into the chamber, as did a war-forged being that seemed a mismatched combination of other iron-crafted creatures. The hodgepodge humanoid construct seemed discomforted by its surroundings somehow, refusing to so much as glance at the carnage all around it. Instead, it fiddled with a belt that held an assortment of tools rather than weapons and waited for Zumera to speak, which she promptly did. "The riches and resources of the Island are yours to use in your pursuits, my champion. Now that my throne is secure, you will have all that I promised you and more. But remember... you must begin work on the weapon soon. It must be constructed and operational before the next solar eclipse. My new goddess will not brook failure in this matter. Now... you may go."
The war-forged left Tatharixil's now desecrated high chamber of Ra accompanied by the building screams of the deposed king. As it moved through the battle ravaged building and exited the palace-temple, it noticed the shadows it passed lengthen and grow more menacing. The cries of agony and loss that emerged from the sacked city below were a fitting counterpoint to those still ringing out from the grand pyramid behind it. The Sunset Islands had a new queen and she was not a merciful one. The kingdom of the Ungatti would never be the same again.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea