TOPIC: R4: 13th Age - Adventurer to Champion and beyond!

Whoa Mike, that's quality writing you've just done. Outdone yourself you have! Very impressed, write a bloody book for God's sake! (make sure somebody proofreads it though!)

Mr Strenversie Goldman has requested our presence at some icon forsaken place, in the middle of nowhere called nowhere. Now where would nowhere be? Because if I went nowhere then I would be somewhere, and therefore I would anywhere other than nowhere.

Beads of sweat trickle down my face as I try to work out the intricacies of this conundrum, I do not notice Chrono my mechanical servant pick me up and carry me to nowhere. No it’s starting again!!!!

The headache I had when I got to …… the place with no name (this really is a most stupid place) but on the plus side it was nice to be reunited after a couple of weeks with

Hurl Rees, a wood elf but with a dark heart, he calls himself a rogue but he really is an

Dun
Dun
Dern


ASSASSIN

He wears black, all the time. Never a shred of colour other than varying shades of black, and only black. Black, dark as the night, which when you need to go out and kill someone is a good time to do it, and let’s face it black lends itself to the shadows quite nicely. But during the day not so much, but he loves it, he has even had his blades blackened so any tell tale glints of light are not given off. He takes his profession seriously; I have even heard tale that he killed somebody who somebody else said looked at Hurl the wrong way, possibly. This is unconfirmed of course.

I am also a little envious as he is the only one with his own bards song

“I am the assassin Hurl
With tongue forged from eloquence
I am the assassin
Providing your nemesis

On the sacrificial altar to success, my friend
Unleash a stranger from a kiss, my friend
No incantations of remorse, my friend
Unsheathe the blade within the voice, my friend
My friend, my friend, my friend, my friend

Who decorates the scarf with the fugi knot?
Who camouflaged emotion in a thousand yard stare?
Who gouged the notches from the family tree?
Who hypnotized the guilt in career rhythm Trance?

Assassing, assassing, assassing, assassing
Listen to the blade
Feel the blade

Listen as the syllables of slaughter cut in calm precision
Patterned frosty phrases rape your ears and sow the ice incision
Adjectives of annihilation, bury the point beyond redemption
Venomous verbs of ruthless candor, plagiarize assassin's fervor
Apocalyptic alphabet casting spell, the creed of tempered diction

My friend, your friend the assassin
A friend in need is a friend that bleeds
A friend in need is a friend that bleeds
Let bitter silence infect the wound
Let bitter silence infect your wound
I am the assassin
I am the assassin
I am the assassin
Assassin

You are a sentimental mercenary in a free fire zone
Parading a Hollywood conscience
You were a fashionable objector with a uniform fetish
Pavlovian slaver at the cash till the ring of success
A non com observer, I assassin the collector
Defector

So you resigned yourself to failure, my friend
And I emerged the chilling stranger, my friend
To eradicate the problem, my friend
Unsheathe the blade within the voice
Within the voice, within the voice, within the voice

And what do you call assassins
Who accuse assassins anyway, my friend?”

(Credit to Marillion, for an awesome song)





Rasmus Dragonborn an affable enough fella and a Paladin to boot , although greatly deluded as he thinks he was hatched, that’s right hatched as if, a human could be born from an egg. He really doesn’t understand that human mammals are born, live from the placenta, yummy!! Where would the world be if we could change how we are born? Think about this, if he came from an egg, where did the egg come from, eh? Tell me that, where did the bloody egg come from!! A ruddy great chicken!!!

Breathe,

Breathe,

And relax….

He has long golden hair and from the back looks like a woman, he does tend to look after his appearance rather more than most, I believe they call it metrosexual, but who am I to cast aspersions on his nature. He has a loathing for Demons, and that is the one thing you need to know about Rasmus. Do not, not ever, not even a little bit, not even the slightest, not even the merest mention of a demon lest you be sat there for a good eight (sometimes more) hours of demonology, the best way to kill each type, and what they taste like. Now when we see a demon one of us has to say “Look at that horned insert name of natural creature Cat, my how very dangerous it looks. Take that kitty and that ohh a breath weapon how about that for feline cunning” and such like. Never ever, ever mention the “D” word



Meerevus Snage, (Brian as I like to call him) a Cleric like no other, he like our Paladin does not believe in healing, he will do so but begrudgingly, but he does believe in stuffing his face and grabbing what he can, when he can. This is from his days travelling the “Red Wastes” which sounds more foreboding than it actually is. He tells tale of a Magician healing him from a childhood illness, and has an interesting looking birthmark that looks a bit, and I mean a bit, like a dragon scale. He has long brown hair and a nose so long and pointy it is not natural


Nor is Brian the talkative type, he does not go in for long soliloquies or monologues (we have Rasmus talking about demons for that) I once heard him tell his back story thusly:

Born, got ill, magician, dragon scale, parents died, travelled the Red Waste, here. If all he uttered could be bounded in a nutshell, he could count himself a king of infinite space.

He does have a strong sense of justice however. This I shall remember long after I am dead, we infiltrated a bandits camp, with the idea of killing them for a few reasons

a) These are bad people, the kind that would steal a child’s sweets and laugh about it.

b) The kind who would place a burning bag of poo on your doorstep, and then knock.

c) They were terrorising villages, but by the time we arrived there was nothing left to steal and Hurl can testify to that.

d) We were being paid to do so

The normally not talkative Brian, goes into the camp and starts talking to them, asking questions but really leading questions like “Hey, you don’t look tough, I bet you don’t even have a wanted poster” and then with bravado they would show him, funnily enough they were the only ones who survived that night.

Then we have Karl Dreghorn, a more pitiful life has never existed, I dare anyone to listen to this tale of woe and not reach for a hanky. He is barely a Dwarf, I say so because he was captured by the Drow. Captured, held captive, tortured, beaten, lived on scraps, for fifty years, which must have been hell. They removed fingers, an eye, and as far as he is aware all the time asking questions he did not understand let alone have the answers for. Much of this Dwarf was left in those cells, and what stands before us is a hardy resilient creature, but a little unhinged. A more fierce and loyal friend you could not ask for, well you could and it’s called a familiar but anyhoo….

Karl jumps at the slightest sound and is afraid of the dark, mistrusts beds and clean sheets, and food that is not rotten or tainted in some way. However I and I am not 100% sure about this, I swear he has the patch over the other eye sometimes, I could swear it moves.

Then there is me of course, the natural born leader of this rag tag bunch, Gandolt The Magnificent (so good the “T” in the is a capital) I am a homunculus and it is true I do get carried around by a mechanical man, but anything else you heard is not, unless it was about me being brave or doing something heroic then it’s all true. I was never in that back alley with that genetically mutated centaur (the body of a woman but the head of a horse) ahem! Yes me who radiates more power, than the Archmage.

Enough about me I could go on all day.


So we met with Mr Goldman who had a small job for us to perform. His client the Archmage has an issue with one of his prison towers in the North East, the wards are failing and he needs me to reinforce his sloppy magic. The Archmage even sent instructions on how to do it. But I have cast my eye over it and believe that I can improve upon this and the Archmage has stolen

Sorry Stolen? Stolen what precisely your ideas?

What is going on, where did that come from?

You were belittling me

Who me, I don’t think

Precisely you don’t think

Listen here buddy boy, this is my text and you shouldn’t be butting in on it

And you shouldn’t be saying things about me that aren’t true, so how were you going to improve upon my spell.

Errr, stop bullying me in my own literary genius

I would hard call it genius and it is only literary because it contains words

Right I’ve had just about…

That makes two of us Gandolt, I’m watching you

I don’t even have you as an icon

I know and how rude of you especially since the ones you do have don’t like you either. Bye bye

The Archmage’s spells will suffice for the task at hand.

We left in the morning after a decent feast, and Brian had filled his pockets with leftovers. We have decided to go through the Blasted Wastes, as the other way is longer and is for little girls.

Nothing worthy of note happened till we arrived at the edge of the Blasted Waste.

It is like nothing I have ever seen before and the tales of it weirdness do it no justice at all. On the one side is rich arable land and wall of white mist obscures vision through, but it is a simple matter to put your head through and see a bleak tundra where little grows, the air is stale and cool. We are just marvelling at this when a man with a clip board approaches us.

I hasten to add nothing good has ever happened when a man with a clip board does anything.

“Names?”

“Why replies Hurl”
“So we know who has died and who to notify of your deaths, should you not make it through to the otherside” says the man.

“Does that happen a lot?” asks Brian

“More often than you would think”.

“No need for me, no one would mourn my passing” says a despondent Karl

“I’d miss you buddy” I reply trying to lighten the mood

“Yes, but you’d be dead with me”

“Not necessarily, I may survive where you perish and then I would be sad, and all I would have to remember you by is your eye patch.”

“If I died you would take my eye patch?”

“Yeah, it is one of your most distinguishing features, as by its very nature it is there, where as many of your other distinguishing features are distinguishing because of their absence.”

“But my eye patch, surely my sword”

“Yeah because I look like I could wield a sword that size”

“No, I just mean it is like my calling card, it is what I do”

“So you don’t do an eye patch”

“I do”

“Well as fascinating as this is gentleman and baby, still going to need your names” says the man impatiently banging his board.

“I’m Dave, this is Dennis, the woman with her back to you is Dean, the man making a fashion statement for the Goths of this world is Darren and that there, yeah the one with the face that scares children he is Dick and is an honouree member of the five D’s”

“Dave, Dennis, Dean, Darren and Richard”

“We have to call him Dick otherwise we would be the four D’s and one R”

“But his name is Richard.”

“One man’s Rich is another man’s Dick”

All that sorted we head off into the “Blasted Waste”, which at its first appearance is not as scary as it sounds.

An uneventful first day for us, but we did not get much sleep, Karl is the only one who appears to like it here as the sun never sets so it never gets dark, there is a distinct lack of beds and clean sheets, and we are eating rations.

The next morning we are travelling when a large Lizard erupts from the ground, I hit it with Magic Missile and move up Rasmus hits it as does Hurl and Karl. Brian is building up to something good.

The ground trembles and another of these beasts appears behind me, I clap my hands together blowing the creature back and make my retreat. The party split to fight the two, the first one moves and strikes me and the ground opened to reveal a third creature. It bites me before I can react and my last thought before I am knocked out is they went for the one they were most afraid of first.

I woke up and Chrono is defending me, I get back up and get knocked down again, this time I feel a healing wave as Brian has cast magic over me, I survive the next attack and cast a lightning bolt as two of the creatures fall, leaving just the one. This is made short work of by Karl and Rasmus.

Ha, that was brilliant. Luckily I read it at home so I wasn't laughing at work.

I want my own theme song.

Lol very good in glad second image does show as I dread to think what it was lol , I read it on email and it seems to repeat the one part , but great reads by both of you , knew my name would be amended somehow and eat catcher very good lol

Great write-ups guys. Thanks for making the effort. I will determine an appropriate reward for you for tonight.

Karl’s natural survival instincts kick in along with Brian’s waste not want not attitude and they both dive into the carcasses of the felled lizard beasts. But there is no blood, only ash.

“There is no blood only ash” says Karl.

“I know” says Brian furiously digging “Where’s the meat?”

“That’s a bit of a personal question.” replies Karl.

“No, no, no, no there has to be something” continues Brian

On a cloud way above in the sky, the forgotten gods are looking down at the scene

“Look at him, I’ve seen moles dig less furiously” says Bacchus whilst sipping wine from his cup

“He is definitely going for it” agrees Venus

“What is he hoping to achieve?” wonders Minerva aloud.

Back on the ground we are all assembled round the pitiful sight of Brian digging in the ash, moving quickly from one dig site to another.

“How long do you think he can go on for like this” I ask

“I didn’t know he could move so quickly” says Rasmus.

“I could put him out his misery” offers Hurl twiddling a dagger absentmindedly in his fingers.

“Hmm, let’s think about that. I think we can shelf that idea and file it under N for No” says Rasmus

“I’ve seen this in before, when I was captured by the Drow, often inmates would lose..”

“Boring hell, look at the time” I say pointing at the sun in the sky which has not moved in all the time we have been here. Luckily this proves enough distraction to cut off yet another of Karl’s mind-numbing stories of the Drow and his time in their company.

The forgotten Gods numbers have swelled and they are now taking much interest in Brian’s digging.

“I know, I know, but let’s face it there is nothing for him to find, these are the constructs of time says Saturn.

“Are you trying to sound more knowledgably than you are, with this “constructs of time” Saturn?” asks Mars

“No, they are there to stop time travel.” Continues Saturn

“F, off” says Mars “You didn’t know about them till they turned up. So why they made of Ash then Mr Smarty pants?”

“I know you are trying to provoke me Mars, but I did know about them.”

“Go on then”

“They are called the Langoliers (Reference and credit to Stephen King, but I am nicking this idea for the story) and they clean up the day, by removing yesterday, thus creating the physical impossibility of travelling back in time as there is no back to get to.” Mars is about to say something but Saturn cuts him off “and they are made of ash because, because….. Because they themselves have to be destroyed at the end of the day so the new constructs eat tomorrow when tomorrow has been today and becomes yesterday.” Saturn beams at everyone.

“I’m confused but my curiosity satiated by a plausible enough explanation” says Cupid.

“Shut it, you baby. So why did they attack them then, as they attacked today not yesterday” an aggravated Mars says as Saturn’s explanation does sit quite as well with him and plausible excuses are no good for causing a fight.

“Good question, glad you asked. The reason why is because the Blasted Wastes are stuck in one time, moving forward infinitesimally slowly. But yesterday has been and gone many times and these are the Longoliers stuck trying to get rid of a yesterday that happened a long time ago but can’t due to the Blasted Wastes being stuck in time due to errant magic.” All the Gods look impressed except Mars.

“Well I think that clears it up” says Cupid.

“Why are you getting involved?” says an agitated Mars

“God, you’re a knob Mars!!” says Cupid

“Right that’s it, come on then you. Queensbury rules” Mars starts circling the baby Cupid moving his arms in a pugilistic fashion.

“You wouldn’t hit a baby, surely!!” says Venus shocked.

“If he is old enough to stick his nose in where it’s not wanted, he’s old enough for a pummelling. I hate cheeky kids anyway!!”

“ENOUGH!!!” says the formidable form of Jupiter “Mars you are not hitting a baby, no matter how irritating he is” Cupid stuck his tongue out at Mars. “Cupid get to your room no more of this childish behaviour, besides its past your bed time”

“OH Man, W T F, I’m thousands of years old and I still get treated like a baby”

“You look and behave like a baby so get to bed, NOW!!” Jupiter waves his hand over the scene below.

“You people honestly. Move along nothing to see here, they will be going any second now. Yes Yes Minerva, they will be off you have my word”

Brian scapes at the Ash in the floor of the hole he is and his fingers brush something solid.

“HA, HA!!! I knew there would be something” Brian feeling chuffed with himself digs up a scroll case and inside is a scroll of fire protection.” Calmly Brian dons his things and gets ready to go.

“Well you can’t argue with results.” I say

Feeling battered and bruised I push on with my comrades in arms, the battle and subsequent find has lifted their sprits greatly.

We walk for a few hours and suddenly appear in the cool night air with stars above and where there was a absence of sound now a cornucopia of various creatures are making a cacophony of noise. A man with a clip board approaches us.

“Well done, well done indeed. Let me shake each of you by the hand.” He goes round shaking everyone’s hand. “Names”

“So you can make a note not to notify our families” says Rasmus

“That and you will get them printed in Hero’s Monthly, the only subscription magazine for hero’s”

“Ohh I say, I might have to take out a subscription” says Karl

“It’s a marketing ploy, to make you take out a subscription.” I say

“Eh?” says Hurl

“Look you want to see your name in print and go round shoing your friends and family, and it is in print so there is no denying it. But really they print your name so they can sell you a twelve month subscription” I explain.

“Why those cunning……”

“Names gentlemen?”

“Dave, Dennis, Dean, Darren and Dick” says Rasmus

“Dave, Dennis, Dean, Darren and Richard” says the man

“We’ve been through this before, with the other guy. Just call him Dick”

“I don’t like it out here” says Karl “I think I’m going back, it was nice in there” Rasmus holds him back whilst we talk sense into him.

“My good clipboard man, please can you tell us what day it is” asks Brian
“It’s Thursday night” says the man

“See Karl we went in on Friday and travelled for what was for us two days but in actuality a week has passed.” Brian says to Karl.

“Okay” Rasmus loosens his grip and Karl makes a break for it.

“If it will help you fine stout heroes out you can have some stew and makes yourselves comfortable here”

“No beds” asks Karl looking at the man suspiciously.

“No,beds”

“No clean sheets either”

“Definitely no clean sheets round here” says the man

“I’m going to let go now Karl, you’re going to be alright” says Rasmus

“Okay” Rasmus let his grip go and we watch to see if he makes another break for it, but Karl calms down . The stew is fantastic and we pass a good night under the stars.

In the morning we wave goodby to Mr Clipboard and travel towards the tower.

“Nearly there” says Brian “And we are here”

“There is nothing here!” says Karl. Brian removes the stone with the glyphs on it and the tower appears before us. “Ruddy Hell!” exclaims Karl. Before us is a large tower with many floors and wooden door at the bottom.

Rasmus eyes the door suspiciously, Karl eyes the door suspiciously, Brian eyes the door suspiciously, and I eye the door suspiciously. Hurl opens the door.

“Ta chap” and we pile into a room which looks like a guards room that has been vacated rapidly. A game of cards was going on, one of them was cheating. Other than that there is nothing of value or note in here, a stone staircase winds round the wall of the tower going to the second floor. Brian takes the lead, but half way up a loose stone makes him fall back down the stairs and Karl is saying this place is shoddily built. So we let him go first.

The second floor has bones picked clean and rubbish and refuse in it. Were were going to carry on up but we are surprised by a large group of Kobolds. Who delight in knocking Brian out. They are tricky to hit and Rasmus keeps being taunted by them because he can’t hit them.

“Hey, if you’re hot and sweaty swap with me this guys will fan you” enraged he misses faster and they find this most amusing.

“I think his name is Gale”

They mass attack Brian and he falls to the floor, but the tide of the battle turns and we find ourselves the victors. Gathering our breath we head up the stairs.

To a room with a whole pig roasting over a fire, we are just checking this out when a giant suddenly appears from nowhere.

“Get out my castle”

Rasmus thinks to himself I cannot miss this, says “Your Tower, you mean the Archmage’s tower. Have at youoooooooo” and misses. Karl gets hit by the giant and you can see he is visible shaken by the strength of the blow. As a group though, we deal some massive damage to the ogre, who disappears as quickly as he arrived. The pig is not ready for at least another hour so we carry on up to the next floor.

There are three minotaur’s asleep in hammocks.

“Let’s kill them” says Brian

“What whilst they are asleep?” says Rasmus abhorrent at the notion.

“Yeah”

“Not very sporting, Brian” I say.

“I thought more of you than that” says Karl “Not only have you let me down with that idea more importantly you’ve let yourself down. Poor show, poor show” Brian reprimanded is quiet so Rasmus limbers up.

“WAKEY!! WAKEY” and the Minotaur’s get up

“Where is the boss man?”

“You mean the ogre downstairs”

“Yeah”

“You work for us now” I say

“Your funny for a little man” This is getting us nowhere so I lightning bolt all three of them. This battle is swift but not with incident, both Brian and Karl are knocked to the ground. And here we are in a room with three dead Minotaur’s and an open chest.