Freebooters Solo AP 1 - Arsi the Thief Leaves for Gooluna
I was inspired by a Solo AP done at Lumbering Elephant using Jason Lutes' Freebooters on the Frontier. I also used Perilous Wilds and the Mythic Game Master Emulator for other random generation. It's been awhile since I have played any PbtA games so it's time to make a thief and dive right in. Note: This uses the second edition playtest.
After leaving his home in the north, Paja, Arsi traveled to Gooluna, the "land of the golden road" to seek his fortune.
Let’s back up a minute, why did he leave his home?
Well, Arsi is good, not to mention hopeful and persistent. That’s bound to get him in to trouble. He used his… ahem… particular skills to free his brother, Manu, who was wrongfully imprisoned by a Jarl. Things went pear-shaped after that.
What happened?
Well, I think that Arsi had this idea that he could set things right if he kept at it. Kind of like the truth would set his brother free. But, that didn’t turn out to be the case. Jarls are like that. Arsi currently has a low Charisma score, stubby fingers, and never smiles, so when he confronted the Jarl after freeing his brother, Arsi was captured. He lost a few tips of those already stubby fingers and was exiled for his insolence.
Wow. Are you sure you want Arsi to be good?
Yeah. He’s definitely a bit jaded now. His plans are more realistic than “taking on the whole ancient power structure of his home region.” Besides, it wasn’t all bad. Since thieves start with double the average coin, I bet Arsi pilfered a nice bag of silver from the Jarl the night he left. You know, just compensation for pain, suffering, the tips of his fingers, that sort of thing. The Jarl probably won’t even notice that the silver is missing.
Sounds great. I am sure that won’t come back to haunt you. Roll Purloin.
Gulp. Ok. I got an 8 plus a DEX of 0. So 8.
You got the silver and got out of your town, no problem. But you know that your pilfering was sloppy, the Jarl’s treasure chest was too well guarded for a proper theft. You took what you could, but you know anyone but a fool would notice the coins were missing after you left. Looking through the bag, and realize that your 34 coins are all stamped with the visage of the Jarl.
Damn. Well if I get far enough south, I want to spend that money as quick as possible. You can’t spend it when you’re dead.
Not a problem. There is a small town 3 days journey from Paja, a small backwater named Torni. The town itself is built around the base of an ancient tower. The tower is gone now, succumbed to time and the town’s need for free building materials. It’s got a few shops that will sell you anything that isn’t rare. The people seem friendly enough. On first glance, there isn’t any indication that anyone here is looking for you.
Great. I want to buy a longbow, arrows, some rations, and, since I am wearing rags, some common clothes. Ug. Not enough cash to upgrade my club or knife. I throw the coins at the shopkeeper, grab the gear, and bolt. I want to get out of town as fast as possible. Gooluna, here I come!
Done. You take the road to the south. The tiny road leads you through large swaths of wet, verdant forest. It is the height of spring, just past the cross-quarter day between the equinox and the solstice. All the plants are leafing out and struggling to capture what light they find. If you were home right now, you would be dancing and feasting in the streets in celebration of the end of planting. But you’re not. You are here among the wet, the green, and the mud. The fresh dew of the morning and maybe a nighttime shower has left everything soaked. You see no one along the route to Gooluna for a few days, until you are walking along the during your fifth morning on the trail and you hear hoofbeats coming up behind you.
I dash into the foliage. I want to remain out of sight while being quiet and still. So I spend my only point of cunning for that.
The two horsemen come into view. It’s as you expected. The two riders, a man and a woman, look like they are from up north; both are wearing furs and helmets. Even though their furs are matted and soaked, you can tell they are the probably from the Jarl. Each carries a spear and a sheathed sword buckled to their belt. The horses slow as they get closer. You are sure they can’t see you, but you have a bad feeling about this.
I keep my shit together. I don’t move. I am a tree.
The man points to the ground, and both dismount. They must be tracking your footprints in the mud. The woman stays on the road, but the man, heads toward your hiding location, following your muddy footprints. You have a few seconds before the warrior gets close enough to find you.
Welp. That’s it. I take my club and swing it at the warriors head at soon as he’s close enough.
The warrior isn’t aware of your presence. Roll Backstab.
3 plus DEX of 0 so 3. I at least get to roll damage first with a Backstab. I rolled a 6.
You used to think that your club was a really nice one and it may have been, but it’s nothing to a steel helmet. You swing with all your might and you clip the poor warrior on the side of the head, just above the cheek. There is a satisfying crack as your club spits down the middle. The warrior falls to the ground, twitching. You vaguely recognize the face of the warrior as he falls, but you don’t have time to search your memories as the warrior on the trail is now very aware of your existence. She throws her spear in your direction. Assuming you want it to miss, a saving throw + DEX.
10! She misses!
The spear thuds into a tree next to your head. If you had been any slower you’d be dead. The she pulls out her sword, and charges in your direction. What do you do?
I need a weapon. How’s the sword on the downed warrior look?
It was never pulled. It’s in a scabbard on the muddy ground. You could get it, but it would probably give the warrior a chance to swing at you.
Not worth it. I pull my knife and try to kill her before she kills me. YEEAAARG!
Ok. Roll Fight!
8 plus STR of 0 is 8. My knife does 1 damage on the warrior.
You slash the warrior right across the stomach, but you can tell the wound isn’t very deep. She stabs with her jagged sword and it easily slides it in to your leg for 3 points of damage. You can see bright red blood flowing from her stomach, but more is coming from your leg. You are getting dizzy and may not survive another blow. The extra foot of length her sword has on your knife isn’t helping.
Fuck… I… um… trapped like a rat. Well, here goes nothing. I know I need to strike hard, so I aim for her neck and lunge. More fighting. Crap. I rolled snake eyes.
You’re just some thief, and she is a trained warrior. She sees your lunge coming a mile away. She dodges out of the way of your strike with a quick side step, and you feel the blade of a sword plunge in to your back for 4 damage. The world fades into darkness. Maybe the gods will save you. Roll Get Lucky.
Beh. 6.
Not today, then. You find yourself standing before the Black Gates and Death motions your forward...
Well that didn't end well for Arsi. But we still have a traveler left on the road to Gooluna. I wonder what dire straits the death of the warrior's companion has put her in...
That Time D&D Went Sideways
Another unicorn appears and all hell breaks loose.
So the characters, Newbie Dwarven Ranger [NDR], Seasoned Planeswalker Ranger [SPR], Intelligence 6 Paladin [I6P], and Not Quite Evil Warlock [NQEW], all decided to venture back to an old dwarven stronghold that was converted to pirate base. Its entrance is in a cliff on the coast.
It is important to note that the heroes have worked out a deal with a local goblin alchemist (Fork Footsplint) where they can make health potions for free before an adventure. There are two small caveats: the first is that the potions lose their efficacy at the end of the adventure; the second is that due to some substitutions by the goblin the potions work “better” and have a random rolled effect from the Wild Magic Surge table. In this case, for the two potions the I6P makes, Fork threw in some grasshopper legs as a substitute. The player rolls a 48 and the potion turns a nice milky white (with the aforementioned bug legs floating at the top). Those of you that can’t stand the anticipation can go look up the effect now, I’ll wait...
As a bit of backstory, the pirate base is run by a Captain who kicked SPR off the boat for mutiny, though she tells the story… as a slightly different series of events. The Captain’s involved with a Witch and has taken a keen interest in the vault portion of their converted stronghold. It must be love, because they’ve started excavations of the vault together. The characters previously found the Witch’s notes, which indicate that there is a hand or eye that belonged to an old-dead-undead-god-creature (the old dwarven doesn’t translate well). This will be their second foray into this place, after killing most of the pirate crew on the first. “I assure you all the people we killed were all bad” the SPR says to the I6P, who nods assent. The players, I think, assume this will be a cakewalk.
Now, I want you to know I don’t play my bad guys as idiots. In the intervening time, the Captain and Witch completed their excavations and found the contents of the vault. The witch took the dead bodies of the crew and raised them as skeletons. Essentially, they are back in business with lower overhead.
Since our bad guys have watched Indiana Jones, they decide to create a portal next to the box that contains the artifact, minimizing the risk of boulder crushing while they figure out how to untangle the artifact from all those magic locks. There is plenty of time for them to do this and escape, I think, because the heroes would have to fight their way through the entire complex, and even if they succeeded, they would be too weak to pursue. Not to mention, the Captain and Witch are a Half-Dragon Veteran (CR 5) and Mage (CR 6), respectively, and the party averages 2nd level. They will politely escape to avoid absolutely murdering the players.
Enter in our team. SPR, for shits, uses the daily fluff ability of “detect portal” as they come up the cliff behind the cave, and finds that there is a portal some 100 yards or so behind the entrance. So they decide to investigate and climb around the cliff and look for a secret entrance.
Except there is no secret entrance because you don’t build secret entrances to vaults. That’s how things get stolen. However, unimportant until now, is the terrain. The highest section of the cliff is near the entrance, and then slopes away from said entrance. This means that to a point, the stone work on the “roof” of the dungeon gets thinner the further in you go. Erosion is a bitch.
The NDR uses their stone cunning and finds the thinnest section of stone and its really thin.
I6P: I begin stamping my feet.
DM: Ok. Make a perception check. Those of you who get a 10 or above notice cracks forming near I6P’s feet.
NDR, NQEW: [They succeed] Yeah, I’m going to take a step back
SPR: [Success] I take a rope and throw it on to… something?
I6P: [Fails] I CAN’T HEAR YOU AND CONTINUE STAMPING [Player: why is nobody telling my character?].
DM: NDR, NQEW after hearing a cracking sound, you suddenly find that two of your party members are missing. They have been seemingly replaced by a large hole in the stone on which the I6P was stomping. After a few seconds, you hear a body wearing chainmail hit a stone floor surface. SPR, you are in a hole hanging from a rope. You see I6P about 30 ft below you on the ground, groaning but moving.
The party has now bypassed most of the monsters and we break for pie and beer.
The new entrance is pretty far from the barracks and dining hall, so none of the remaining crew notices. Our heroes breeze through the rest of the dungeon, heading toward the vault. They break into the vault and catch the Captain loading up the box. A squad of skeletons briefly holds the characters up (the SPR, a newer player, notes that a skeleton casting magic missile was “bullshit” and that magic missile in and of itself is “bullshit”.) The NQEW throws a Staff of the Python at the Captain which turns into a giant snake and grapples the poor pirate. This stops the Captain moments before walking through the portal with the artifact. Fuck.
Time to engage the backup plan. The Witch summons a Bearded Devil, which not exactly a spell, per say, but whatever, we’re having fun. The Devil starts kicking ass with the remaining skeletons. Hope is dwindling.
IP6: I drink the potion. The crappy white one.
DM: It tastes like grasshopper butts. However, it functions like a normal health potion, so you get your 2d4+2 hp back.
[everyone waits with bated breath]
Also…. You summon a Unicorn.
Everyone: What?
The Unicorn attacks the devil. I6P fails her intelligence check and forgets that there were two potions, and thus the possibility of two unicorns. SPR saunters over, snatches the potion, and drinks it.
Another unicorn appears and all hell breaks loose. The devil is doomed, trampled to death by the golden hooves of justice. The Captain is still wrestling with the snake, while the NDR and NQEW pelt him with ranged attacks. The SPR runs up and kicks the box away from the Captain. The Witch, somehow now bloodied, casts greater invisibility and leaves via the portal. The Captain is eventually brought low, regardless of his fire breath.
The unicorns challenge the NQEW who succeeds a persuasion check (even speaking the correct language) to avoid getting gored to death by a confused pissed off horse with a horn.
The box is opened to reveal a shriveled hand: The Hand of Xangeon (similar to, but legally distinct from, the Hand of Vecna). Warlock realizes that this is a powerful artifact. The NQEW’s player and I leave to a different room for a sidebar. I note that this is a onetime shot to become incredibly powerful, otherwise the artifact will find someone “more worthy”. Standard sacrifice is needed… the NQEW’s Hand.
The player of the SPR goes to make tea. The player of the NQEW and I return to the table.
NQEW: Do you mind if I borrow your sword I6P?
I6P: Nope. Take it.
NQEW: [Freakishly Casual] I cut off my hand
DM: It hurts. Through the red haze of pain you feel the blade slicing through your muscle, tendons, and bone. Then, the pain is gone. And you see the shriveled hand has grafted itself onto you. You’re probably evil now.
Everyone in Unison: WHAT THE FUCK? [SPR’s Player: What’s happening? I’m still making tea!]
Now Actually Evil Warlock [NAEW]: What’s the big deal?
NAEW cooly leaves and heads back to town while everyone else’s mouths go agape. SPR arrives with tea.
SPR: Why are all of your mouths open? What happened?
Art from the Campaign (Slideshow)
The campaign might be ending soon. One of the players is an artist, and sent me a years worth of sketches.
A Little Song
One of our players takes a break to sing a short song.
Mal, the groups barbarian (played by Cat Rocketship), plays his ukulele with an unknown bard, who might just be improvising.
Lyrics:
Pretty pretty princess drills
your silken beard is full of frills
something about [unintelligible] skies
and you thrill all the guys
Pretty Pretty princess drills
your beard is full lacy frills
I like pencils I like tea
I like you and you like me
Pics From Last Session: A Ball to Remember
The party spent most of their time getting ready for a ball. Adventuring be damned, they were going to have a good time for once, and leave all their troubles behind them. Until murder broke the mood of the ball...
Yara (emotional tiefling rogue) exclaimed "I've never been invited to a ball before!"
Malken (careless human barbarian) refused to take off his suit even when the fighting broke out.
Drilly (practical dwarf fighter) had to deal with her mother and chiding from the rest of the group.
Trogdor (delusional? half-elf cleric) could not stand the fact that some monsters used spells too. "Unfair!" he screamed, launching another fireball.
Enna (sexy elf fighter) gathered massive amounts of incredibly useful information while everyone was refilling drinks and popcorn bowls.
Where are we right now?
Map for the current campaign
Sorry, Where are we again?
This is the map for the current campaign. Each square is 400 square miles. Source material from the USGS, just west of my aunt's homestead. Doctored a bit in Gimp. Names are randomly generated or stolen. The Empire contains 2,764,000 fowl. At least it did before the demons invaded.
Cut Scene: Orcs Vs Giants
Orcs is stupid. They work for us. We take their stuff and eat them. They are yummy.
The party had fought giants and found a poorly written note on one of the creatures. It read: "Orcs is stupid. They work for us. We take their stuff and eat them. They are yummy". The orcs were informed by the heroes, and seemed to take terrible insult at such language. The Orcs particularly focused on being "delicious" as opposed to merely "yummy" and it slowly dawned on my party that "delicious" may not mean what they think it means. The party easily convinced the Orcs to attack the Giants.
Several hundred orcs stood atop a ridge looking down up on the Giant’s lodge. King Warvik addressed the crowd:
“Here. We are here.”
Shouts of agreement rippled through the crowd. They were here presently, and tautologies were always crowd pleasing with Orcs.
Warvik waved his hands to quiet the crowd. “We are here to show that we ARE SMART. We keep OUR STUFF. We are… we are..”
“Yummy?” A single orc guessed.
Several hundred pairs of eyes now focused on the unlucky creature. Silence. Warvik slightly nodded as several axes came down on the inquisitive orc.
“WE are DELICIOUS.” Warvik shouted. The crowd erupted in agreement.
A tide of green spilled forth from the ridge as the orcs ran toward the lodge. The giants looked quizzically at the charging creatures. Storm clouds gathered and within a few seconds and covered the entire battlefield. Before the first orc had reached the lodge, terrible lightning streaked across the charging horde, immediately burning most of the orcs to nothing. Acrid black smoke hung thickly where their bodies should have been.
The few that reached the lodge were easily taken down by the giants. The bravery and tenacity of the orc assault was no match for weapons that could crush such a creature in a single blow. Throughout the quick battle, there was something bothering Warvik, but he could not put his finger on it. Then suddenly, as the shadow of a massive weapon passed above him, ready to strike him down, it dawned on him:
de·li·cious: adjective: highly pleasing to the senses, especially to taste or smell: a delicious dinner; a delicious aroma