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So the party finally gets back together after several weekends off.  Savage Worlds is back on the menu for Saturdays!  Well, most of the party is here.  Daron has a life.  He is getting married, so he is off doing things with his fiance.  He would like to play, but life is interfering with his weekend gaming schedule.

We all try to explain to Daron that life will continue on, and he should tell everyone else to go away so he can game on Saturday, and his fiance is perfectly welcome to join us.  We aren’t too sure…  Daron brought his fiance by to one of our Thursday sessions, and we haven’t seen her since.  She was smiling and polite, but I wonder if we were a little too much…  We shall see!

Meanwhile Matthew decided he didn’t have the time to game, and he was really interested in high fantasy style games, not cyberpunk, spaceship, time travel etc.  Matthew decided to only play the D&D or Pathfinder games, because that is what he really enjoys.  We did talk him into playing Dungeon Crawl Classics, which is a lot of fun.

I get it.  If I was asked to play a Supers game in any system, I would not enjoy it.  Same with Giant Robots fighting Giant Robots RPG’s.  You don’t have to like everything.

But, we still have Eric, Mike, Sue and Gavin.  Loren and Robert still are “gardening” on Saturday.  I think it is an elaborate scam.  No one needs to garden at all, let alone garden every week.  Loren keeps telling me that she will have fresh tomatoes, beans, peppers…  I keep pointing out to her that she could get the same at Safeway and Chuck’s Produce, and still have time to play games.  She doesn’t agree.  Well just both have to agree that she is wrong, and move on.  That’s what friends do.

We also converse quite a bit about the Trump Pence logo, and how it seems to be something different than  may have been intended by the candidates.

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Really, it looks like a machine in industry, where The Donald will bring back good paying American jobs to the needy…  That is better than “I am Cornholio, I need TP for my Bunghole!”  Maybe it is symbolic for Trump screwing the Public?

So we sat down to play some more Savage Worlds.  Actually, we sat down and BS’d for a long while, and talked about fishes and computer hacking at school.  After a while of enjoying each other’s company, we got down to dice and books.

Mike did want to know what a Welshman would wear.  He wanted to throw poo, and was trying to figure out how to have easy access to ammunition.  We talked about crotchless pants, assless chaps…  There was a lot of 40+ year old men giggling like 12 year old adolescents.  My son, at 17 was the most mature male in the room.  I suggested a Kilt, Mike thought that was a good idea, after all, it would provide easy access, and was kind of time periodish.

The three adult men in the room, were all professionals, all with engineering backgrounds, and proved to my son that even though you have a career, an education, are “respectable” in your job, you can still be childish and love fart jokes.  Now, for the record, we seem to prove that to Gavin several times in each and every session, but repetition creates belief, right?

The party took off where they were last session, having left Torkertown (Twerking town?) in disgrace, trying to move on, and forget the shame of being run out of town.  Just because they killed the “evil” vampire mist and then pissed off the Mayor, but that is another story.

So they are heading out of town on the forest trail.  They are in the Black Forest, in the late 1500’s, early 1600’s.  The black forest is a dark place.  There is little undergrowth, and a wide variety of trees.  As the party moves down the path, Mike decides it is time to climb a tree and get the lay of the land.  The overhead cover is so dense that it is hard to determine what time of day it is, as it always looks like semi-twilight if the sun is out, and is pitch black when the sun is down.

So Mike climbs up a tree, like any hairy Welshman who is channeling his inner ape can do.  To get into the look and feel of an RPG, I ask Mike what type of tree he is going to climb, since there are a variety of trees, oak, spruce, pine, cedar, alder…  We discuss the situation, and Mike decides to climb a spruce tree.

This is good choice, since spruce trees are easy to climb, and he can get high up in the canopy.  Mike climbs high up in the spruce tree and sees that in the general direction that they appear to be heading, there is a small town.  The sun is close to the horizon, and so Mike knows that they will not make it to the town by nightfall.  And it is pitch dark in the forest at night, which is a good way to get hurt.

Mike climbs down and informs the rest of the Party.  Eric starts cutting down branches and fashioning them into about a dozen long sharp sticks which he plants in the ground to make it difficult to cross into the encampment.  The party also fishes in a nearby stream and catches several rabbits along with finding some herbs and mushrooms.

We discuss how rabbit stew is not really good without ‘taters or carrots, but at least there isn’t some creepy guy jumping up and down screaming about how the rabbits are ruined by the cooking.

The party starts a fire, and cooks the food.  Since the tree canopy is so dense, there is nothing they can do about the smoke.  Sue asked if the smoke was inhibiting their vision, I said no.  She then said, well, it will keep the mosquitoes and flies away, but may also let everyone nearby know that something is happening here.

After eating their fill, they divvy up the watches, and bed down.  Mike goes up into a tree and sleeps as only Welshmen are comfortable.  The first watch goes without incident.  Then on second watch, Gavin sees something odd in the reflection of the fire.  As he looks around, he sees two large black watermelon size bodies with long black legs poking at Mike, as Mike sleeps.  He calls the alarm, and Eric wakes up and bounds into action.  Two giant spiders are testing Mike for tenderness.  Mike wakes up and is pretty shocked.  As a Welshman, you are used to seeing some pretty weird stuff, but not necessarily humongous spiders testing you for tenderness.  Eric starts climbing up the tree to attack.  Mike stares in horror.  I say “the spider is hissing at you, Mike”.  To which Gavin says “Spiders don’t hiss, they don’t have lungs, they breathe through their skin.”  I respond “But in the Lord of the Rings, Shelob hissed and talked.  In the Hobbit, the large spiders hissed.  In the movie “Big Ass Spider”, the spider hissed”.  Gavin was having nothing of it.  So in true DM fashion, I decided that each spider had an accordion bellows under one of their eight legs that he was pumping away, madly, causing a cacophony of sound resembling a hiss.  Damn kids.

As Eric climbs the tree, the third spider drops down on a thin string of silk and attacks Eric.  The spider hits, and gets massive damage on Eric, who is immediately paralyzed for 2d6 minutes.  Eric, the big basher is out of the encounter.

The third spider drops to the ground.  The other two spiders attack Mike, and both miss, well, Mike had to chip the wound.  Gavin leaps into action, and attacks the spider on the ground.  He hits, then with damage, he aces every dice multiple times, so his character does something like 37 damage to a minion monster with a toughness of 5.  The spider is dead several times over, so I give Gavin’s character a permanent +1 to all rolls against an arachnid of any sort.

Mike takes a poo and smashes it into the spider.  Now we worked out the poo rules, and figured that it worked like a Taser.  Mike supermassivelyoverkilled the 2nd spider with the poo.  Nobody in the party had ever seen a ritual killing of a beast of any kind with poo.  Mike was pretty proud of himself.  We all were wondering for a while how a critical death would occur for a spider with a handful of poo.  We couldn’t figure it out, but that’s OK.

The last spider realized that things were not going their way, and so he ran, playing a retreat tatoo on his bellows all the way.

Several party members used a few of their chips (bwooohahahahaha!!!!) in the encounter.

Nothing else interesting happened that night, so in the morning, the party heads out for the town.  After traveling for most of the morning, they arrive at “the small Black Forest village”  Sue, of course wants to know what the name of the village is.  The book doesn’t say.  Argh!  I need to come up with flavor text on the spot.

The village is not defined as to how “small” it is, but there are colored flags on ropes stretched between the many wooden buildings, and the town is large enough to host a Baron, Baron Gunther Von Muelhoffer.

The party overhears people talking about the Baron.  He has written many great hymns and general music which are renowned through the land.  He has even composed music for the Holy Roman Emperor. Lately he has locked himself up in his castle, and hasn’t been seen for several months.  All of his work is being done through his servants.  This is highly unusual, because the Baron usually would come to meet with his people regularly.

For the last few days, the best singers in the land have been summoned to the Castle, and haven’t left since.  The locals believe that the Baron is working with them as a choir to be ready to perform.

Two of the members of the party speak German fluently.  They see printed sheets nailed to every house that say:

Baron Gunther Von Muelhoffer proudly announces his “Choir of Rapture” to be performed for all to hear at his Castle on the night of the full moon.

Sue knows that tonight is the full moon.

What could go wrong?  A baron who has become a recluse?  With a “Choir of the Rapture” to be performed on the full moon?  Rumors of the Baron succumbing to madness?

The party has a good 6 hours before the sunset, so Eric tries to sell his three roasted rabbits for some coin.  The people of the village and the Barony know everyone who lives here.  The four members of the party don’t seem familiar.  The Party notices that all of the other people here are wearing a wooden small case T, and many are carrying a string of beads.

They also notice that the crowd has several brown robed people who are greeting and talking with many of the revelers.

One of the robed men comes up and starts talking with Eric.  Eric doesn’t understand the language.  Gavin and Sue do.  The robed man is talking in Latin.  Eric is not sure what to do, since the tone of the voice isn’t confrontational, just it sounds very strange to his ears.

Gavin steps up and starts talking with the man in the robe, also in Latin.  Gavin starts explaining that they left Torkertown after defeating a vampire, and the Mayor forced them to leave because the Mayor was in league with the vampire.  The priest (OK, I said it) looks at Gavin and says, I know the mayor or Torkertown, and he is a Godly man,  If he wanted you to do something, there must have been a reason for it.  Why did you disobey him.  I don’t remember exactly everything that was said…  But the conversation included a reference to Satan, and Gavin slipped his tongue up and accidently said that he was in league with Satan, I think meaning the Mayor, not Gavin.  But the way he said it was pretty clear that he just confessed to a Catholic Priest in the early 1600’s that he was in league with the devil.  Gavin tried to compensate, saying he didn’t mean that, to which the Priest responded “That is what Satan does, he uses you, and then destroys you” to which Gavin was taken into custody.

What did the proud party of adventurers do for Gavin?

Absolutely nothing.

They let him be taken off to the pokey.

Now Gavin didn’t agree with this situation.  He appealed to my logical side.  He said that anyone could have a slip of the tongue.  And after all, he didn’t say that, nobody would have said that to a priest… but he did.

I then explained to him that from the Priests perspective, anyone who admits to being in league with the Devil under that little of interrogation obviously must be under the influence of great evil.  After all, Satan makes deals for souls.  He doesn’t want to wait for those souls. The return on investment for Satan’s work is much worse if Satan lets the person live to an old age.  Of course Satan would get what he wants as soon as possible from his investment of time.

So Gavin is taken off to the pokey.  The room is 20-ft X 20-ft and has six guards outside.  The interior is a disgusting mess. Pee and feces are everywhere.  There is a bucket, and if Gavin wants to escape, there is a poo chute that goes out into the sanitary trench that takes the river of poo away from the town.

Gavin could shimmy down the poo chute and then dive into the poo river and come up downstream.

With all the technologically sophisticated ways of dealing with sewage, there are still millions of people without access to proper sanitation. In India, for example, 10% of cities lack a sewage system, which means most waste goes into latrines that must be cleaned by hand. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gavin is having nothing to do with this.  He is going to wait until the priest comes back, and explain to the priest that things are not as they seem.

So the Party tries to get Gavin out of the Pokey.  The three remaining party members line up opposite the entrance.  Sue hides near some trees.  Eric hides near some other trees, and Mike decides to give them a “Braveheart” salute, and flip his kilt up, and shake his hairy butt at the guards.


Now the guards had never seen a hairy Welshman in the first place.  This was in the middle of the Black Forest, and people rarely traveled more than a few miles from where they were born.  But to see a hairy Welshman in a dress, flip up his dress and shake his hairy ass was enough to get the guard’s attention.  Then Mike anted up.  He turns around and gives them the full montey.  That was more than enough, and five of the six guards chased off after Mike.  Mike ran, and three of the guards shot their musketsat Mike and missed.

Now Gavin, forever wanting to be accurate in a fantasy game, spoke up and said that there is no way that the guards would have muskets, after all in this time, muskets were rare.

To which I responded, the book says that “some are equipped with muskets as well”.  He disagrees, and I say “Nya Nya Nya, I am the DM, so there”  At least I think that I make a well reasoned argument, and whatever I meant to say, sounded like Nya Nya Nya…

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The party realizes that Gavin is pretty much sunk.  He doesn’t want to swim in poo river, and he thinks that the priest will listen to him, and obviously, the priest won’t believe that Gavin has enthralled him with Satan’s presence when the priest starts believing what Gavin is saying.

So the party leaves Gavin to his jail cell, and goes up to the castle.  The castle is lit up for the festivities.  There are many people already at the Keep for the performance.  Everyone is led into the main chamber, where they see a large red tapestry covering one wall,

The tapestry has many faces of singing angels singing to a small baby in a cradle.

In comes the Baron, and quietly says:

“Tonight, you will hear the fulfillment of my dreams. Tonight, a choir will sing in glorious rapture, free from the constraints of conscious thought, morality, or prejudice.”

He sweeps back his hand and yanks back the tapestry releasing it to fall to the floor.

The twenty choristers are motionless like statues and the Baron pulls on a rope, and a ghastly mournful moaning rising to screaming in pain rises from the choir.  The Baron laughs and cries in pleasure.

Each member of the choir is in their own private iron maiden.

You were expecting a picture of Eddie, weren’t you?  Well, I hate to disappoint you, but that is just too obvious.

Everyone is flabbergasted.  They came expecting beautiful music, but got… this?

Mike has a plan. FLING POO.  He runs up, and tries to fling a fistfull of poo at the Baron who is singing.  Mike rolls dice, and gets and awesome roll.  He then rolls damage, and gets an AWSESOME amount of damage on explosions.  He hits with a shaken and 6 wounds, which normally would kill anything.  But… how can you end the fight by killing the boss monster before he can even start to fight back?

Chips!  Poker chips that the DM has, one per player.  Bwooohahahahaha!  I have four poker chips.  I am able to use two chips with an awe-freaking-some roll and chip all but two of the wounds.  Yay me!

JmXzE

So the Baron and his minions go next.  The Baron clears his throat, because he has never had to deal with the potential of death by poo, especiailly during one of his performances.   He grabs the rope and yanks on it, pulling several of the iron maiden coffins closed with a sickening squeal… and the choir gets slightly quieter.

Then the minions come in and attack Mike.  Since he is the only one who has done anything against the Baron so far.  They surround Mike and make six attacks.  Mike is in trouble.  He pulls out his one-use card and makes one of the guys who aced his attack attack another player instead.  Drat. Double drat!

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So, then Mike chips all of the wounds that are done to him, but I got him to use chips.

Eric comes up and tries to attack the Baron.  He hits, but with the Baron’s state of mind, nothing happens to him.

Sue comes up and starts chopping down the guards, one at a time.

The battle continues, Mike kills one guard.  Sue kills one guard, Eric tries to hit the Baron, to no avail.  The Baron kills more people in the iron maidens, which the soulful screaming becomes slightly more quiet.

The battle continues on, Mike goes full defense, and hopes that someone will come to his aid.  Sue shoots at the Baron, and Eric tries to strike the Baron, but the Baron’s enraptured state gives him too high of a toughness, so nothing happens.  The Baron kills more of the choir, which is “good” since his toughness goes down with every two choir members killed (or rescued,  but the party didn’t think of that one)  The guards attack Mike, and do heinous damage.  Even with full on defense, the minion guards take Mike down several wounds, and Mike runs out of chips.

The next round has the Mike killing one of the guards.  Three are left.  Sue and Eric continue to try to kill the Baron.  The Baron kills more choir members, but then the three guards end up getting some amazing wounds to Mike.  Mike already had two wounds, then he took another shaken and 5 more wounds this round.  Leaving him at least incapacitated.  Using the rules, we rolled up his wound.  It was a permanent wound to the head which reduced his intellect to a d4.  It could be worse, after all someone will probably help him next round, right?

No.  They let him die.  Like a monkey in an experimental lab.

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Photo credit, Mike Emrick, not deceased in real life.

The Baron went and killed the rest of the choir, making him vulnerable.  Eric and Sue finished him off – the Baron, that is.

We discussed how interested the locals would be to listen to the “truth” after the Party killed off a member of royalty.  Sue and Eric thought it would be best to move on out of town as quickly as possible.  They stopped by the pokey, and tried to convince Gavin to leave.  Gavin wanted nothing to do with it.  He wasn’t in league with the Devil, and he was going to convince the priest of that.

So the remaining party left as quickly as possible.

Gavin needs a new character.

Mike needs a new character.  He figures that his ape cum Welshman named Cornelius must have a brother.  I suggested Trumpence as a name.  Which I felt (1) sounded Welshish, (2) fit in well with the overall name for an ape and (3) must be good since the DM thought it up.

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