Character Creation

The first session first of all consisted of the normal rolling up of the characters and doing background work on them. I let them know that they lived in the small town of Sharan (not on the map-yet), to the west of Grunburg in the Kirschwald Forest. It is a dot on the map, though unlabelled. If you follow the road leading to the northwest of Grunburg until it forks north the last time, the top town is Sharan, for those of you following along.

Dave's Mage

Sharan is known for its two large horse ranches, a lumbermill, mushroom and other forest fungus farms, and spice. Both spore and hush are grown here by the now-wealthy Zila, a man associated with organized crime in Asterland. David chose to play a character whose father was a wealthy man in town. David had told him where to stick his money and in rebellion began to live with Zila and his son Coriadalla, a youth with far too much time and money on his hands. The youth owns a hoverboard, which he recklessly careens around town on, despite threats from Salbadar Beefra, the town Sherrif. Naturally, David and "Cory" became close friends and partners in crime. David has taken a few trip with Zila and Cory to Grunburg to sell Zila's agricultural bounties to punks in the big city. All of this infuriates David's father all the more, a well-off horse rancher with all too rigid ideas about what "ought to be."

Wayne's Thief

Wayne is a street urchin, whom the other players know only from his antics in town. What he lacks in thieving skills he makes up for in larcenous desires. He will steal most anything for practice, though it usually takes the form of food to keep his stomach from grumbling. The townsfolk feel sorry for him, and often turn their head when he makes an attempt on foodstuffs. This charity gives Wayne the incorrect notion that he is getting away with it. He pictures himself quite a thief, soon to be shattered with some time spent in the big city. He is also known for his extreme bad luck with 20-sided dice. I have personally watched him skillfully roll nothing greater than a 7 in no less than 25 tries. I was amazed that anyone could have more trouble with dice than me. In his defense, Wayne has vowed to purchase some "non-cursed" dice in the near future. ....what he won't do for the party.

Tony's Fighter (with aspirations of becoming a thief)

Tony is playing a fighter making his entrance into the world. His father is the local handyman and bowyer/fletcher. Tony picked up the skill and is just itching for targets to punch holes in besides the immobile ones with concentric circles on them. He knows a good arrow when he sees one, and soon gets to see some really beaut's (ooooooh, foreshadowing!)

Jim's Ranger/Druid

Jim is playing a felann, a real roleplaying challenge. He was found as a child, an orphan out in the woods (Everyong thinks kittens are cute, don't they?). The finder took him to the only felann that he knew of, an old catman in the woods, a bit reclusive and eccentric in nature. He taught him the skills of a fighter and a bit of the wisdom of being a felann in a world of humans and elves. Jim now gets to test his knowledge in the "real" world now.

Things Begin to Happen

All four prospective adventurers were spending the day in town in their respective roles: Jim begging, Tony helping his father, Dave looking for a fight, and Wayne just looking for adventure (What, did you think this NEEDS to start in a tavern somewhere? ) The DM now begs forgiveness for his more than copious use of smiley's provided for the benefit of the humor impaired.

Dave was the first to hear the whining off in the distance (THIS time it WASN'T Jim complaining about bad die rolls) approaching the town. Dust rose in the distance as a vehicle approached at a fairly good clip. When it got close enough to get a good look at it, Dave still couldn't be sure what he feasted his eyes on. It was a cart of sorts, but apparently the driver had forgotten something...like horses. "Oh," he thought to himself, "this must be one of the heretical magical machines." Things that cheezed off the general populace had a way of catching his interest, and this was no different. Oddly enough, Reverend Holsk did not come charging out of the church with oil and a torch.

The thing had four large wheels the shape of a doughnut that stood as tall as a man, fairly soft but durable. The main frame of it was arched in the middle with a sort of plate metal turret in the rear with arrow slits in it. The thing bounced down the street in an almost comical fashion, the tires apparently the vehicle's only shock absorbers. Over bumpy, smooth terrein like the unkempt road of Sharan, the thing was a bit difficult to control, bouncing and skidding through turns over the patchwork that remained of ancient cobblestone. The thing started into a sliding turn when Dave maniacally waved his hands in the air for the thing to stop. It slid to a stop, the driver able to avoid hitting Dave, which was fortunate. Only then did Dave really notice the sharp spear like metal spikes jutting out from the front of the cart, obviouslt some sort of anti-pedestrian device.

"Centaurs! We 'been attacked by centaurs!" shouted a voice from inside the rearcastle. Dave stood on his tiptoes trying to get a look at the source of the noise. A simple sort of man peeked up over the top of the turret to speak to Dave. The driver in front, in easy view of Dave, added his two cents worth. "They were everywhere," he said frantically. "Are there any here?" he said, his head swinging back and forth like a door in the wind. Dave tried to get more out of him and only then noticed the metal shafted arrows protruding from the round wheels and a couple in the forecastle.

By this time, Tony had arrived on the scene. Unlike Dave, his interest was drawn immediately to the fine crafted arrows. Jim hauled himself from where he sat in the dust near the tavern (to look more effectively wretched) and headed towards the commotion. Wayne wasn't far behind, coming out of the bar itself after completely failing to turn this into an opportunity to lift a little extra winnings from the card table in the commotion.

Tony began "helping" by pulling arrows from the cart, but the driver had little time for this.
"I have to get back to the Katrina!" he shouted frantically. A whine erupted from the vehicle as he worked a lever inside and he shot forward, careening in a tight circle back the way he came, adding,"I'll be back!"

Something Bitchinly Huge This Way Comes

He left a considerable dust trail as he sped out of town and over the rickety wooden bridge which crossed the river just beyond the "city limits," if there were such a thing in this little town. Jim, Dave, Tony, and Wayne watched him drive away, wondering what that were all about. They didn't wait long before they began to hear an awful racket approaching. With a noise that sounded not completely unlike fine oiled machinery and quite like a pig in a winepress, it came. The earth began to vibrate just a bit and old lady Hibbard's prize hen never laid her such a bounty. Something big was making its way down the road. No, it was something considerably bigger than big. It came around the bend with the sound of a roadside tree snapping off like a twig. A juggernaught of a vehicle came into sight, toppling trees on either side of the road in the fairly dense forest that started where Sharan's buildings ended. It approached the narrow bridge, leaving deep furrows from its six heavy iron wheels. They were taller than a man and deeply treaded. The entire contraption stopped violently with the sound of metal on metal just short of the bridge. With the kindness of the "good neighbor" policy that practically eminated from the craft's pilot, the beast lumbered back and turned to the left, neatly avoiding the bridge and splashing straight through the river and back onto the other side, tearing up the river banks considerably. Water found a new course to traver down the deep track marks of the machine and down the road, washing out an easier path for the river to travel, though this would do little for the lumbermill that relied on it to power its buzzsaws.

The behemoth ground and crunched its way into town (The Sherrif was looking into redoing his porch anyway), and screeched to a halt with a sound like a pancaked cat (actually a LOT like that). The mayor launched out of the door of the city hall/deli, his wife right on his tail.

"Y-y-you git that thang out of here, you!" puffed the mayor, his face red with anger. A little vein in the center of his forehead pulsed out his heartrate as it increased. His ears flushed a bright red. Somewhere behind him, his wife produced a holy symbol and began waving it around in front of her and chanting some odd words.

Unabashed by her actions, the captain of the craft emerged from an upper deck portal as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Definately a dashing lady-pleaser, the captain stood and waved, a overly confident, silly grin on his face. He wore a designer leather tunic and tights that showed off his legs (and other things) in a fashion that had the tavern ladies swooning in nothing flat.

"Hello, fine sir," he said to the mayor, bowing in a sweeping gesture.
"It seems we have been set upon by centaurs and are in need of repairs and guards to protect our fine passengers," he said.
"Those bastards took us by surprise. Killed our three best archers, they did. By that time we had the ballista," pointing to the weapon atop the thirty foot high craft,"working and skewered a few of their number in quick order. You might be surprised at the damage one of those can do. I know I was. Where can I put my landship?"
The mayor told him a good place to put it and he was right. The ship fit snugly between the Tavern/Inn/Morgue and the Dry Goods store. Tony and Jim began helping out by pulling the fine arrows from the landship. They recovered about a quiver full between them. From the upper deck, the hired help began to unload three bodies wrapped in sheets. Arrows penetrated the sheets at odd angles.

"Any chance we could offload some bodies here?" asked the captain, stepping down a flight of polished hardwood stairs to the lower deck, leaping down the last few in a single bound.

"The tavernkeeper's son takes care of that sort of thing around here. Not many deaths here usually. It'll cost you, stranger," said the mayor. About this time his wife felt it necessary to jump up and down, a silver goblet held wardingly in front of her (the holy symbol of Dizee, the god of imbibing and hurling). Some racket as of someone banging metal with a mallet erupted from the back of the machine and the crashing sound of the back hatch connecting with the ground reverberated through the town. The mayor's wife hurled her cup at the evil MACHINE and bolted for the woods.

"How silly of me not to introduce myself. I am Laren, captain of this fine vessel," stated the captain grandly as he hopped to the ground. He had a way of expressing himself with large gestures that had the mayor shielding himself out of reflex. Usually it meant he was about to get hit.

The Exhibition of Skills

"I would be glad to work as a guard," offered Dave. Tony, Jim, and Wayne all added that they too would like to be hired as well.

"What can you do?" the captain said to the four.

Jim held up his bow with a smug look on his face, indicating that he was an archer.

Laren pointed to the destroyed porch across the street.
"Hit that." "Surely he would want me to do something more difficult than that," thought Jim, nocking an arrow. He let fly and missed widely [rolled a "2"].
"I just got this bow and am still breaking it in," he added, and let fly another, which sailed wildly into the forest [rolled a 1], somehow avoiding hitting any friendlies.

"Just one more time," he said, letting another arrow fly, which buried itself in the dirt [rolled a 4].

"Well, perhaps the kitchen staff can find some use for you," said Laren.

Jim's face fell.
"I will purchase another bow," he said.
Laren raised one eyebrow in doubt, then pointed to Tony. Tony pulled back his bow and connected squarely with a leaning porch support.
"Well done, bravo, and all that," said Laren.

Wayne waved in an overdone "me too" gesture, and Laren waved for him to take his turn.

Wayne lifted his crossbow and hit the porch, though the aim was not dead center on anything he could have claimed was hist target. Winding back the string on the crossbow, he held it up and fired again, this time landing a bolt very close to Tony's arrow. Laren nodded, as if to say, "You'll do."

David remained to tell what he could do. Being a mage, he had no missle weapons of any kind. Having used his only spell that day, he was screwed. Left with nothing but the art of bull***t, Dave began winging it.
"I can do all sorts of useful things," he said.
Laren shrugged his shoulders and said,"Such as....."
David gave in to the pressure and could not think up any good parlor tricks. He finally said,"I'm good with horses!"

Laren turned around to look at the Landship Katrina, then back to David.
"We don't use horses much."
He scratched his chin, then said,"Can you handle a mop?" The rest of the party stifled their chuckles. David said something about using another game system for mages and something about skill-based systems. Can't blame him when he's playing a first level mage.

Tony and Jim get Charitable

All salvagable arrows removed from the landship, Tony and Jim headed for the back of the ship to find the source of all the banging and hammering sounds emanating from the vehicle. The heavy iron service hatch became a ramp into the now-exposed machine room in the rear of the juggernaught. The two stepped up the ramp and watched as two dwarves in greasy overally worked at bolts holding down a huge piece of machinery. A wheel certainly ten feet tall of iron spun impossibly fast, vibrating the entire craft. As the dwarves adjusted things, the pulsating and squeaking calmed down somewhat.

"So, whatcha' doin'?" asked Tony in that suave way of his.

"Piss off! Can't ya' see we're working here! Go away!" said a dwarf, brandishing a heavy wrench and waving it menacingly. Tony and Jim suddenly thought of how they could "help" some more. They recalled seeing arrows protruding from the 3 victims' bodies and headed for the Inn to offer their services. They managed to retrieve a few more bolts, completely intact this time. After their charity subsided, with some time to examine the arrows better, Tony saw that they were made in such a way that when an arrow struck its target, the arrowhead would come off. It hadn't taken too much digging at the wounds to get these out. The mayor's son didn't look at all appreciative of Tony and Jim's work. He must be grieving for the dead, Tony concluded. Still, throwing them out of the morgue had been an odd way to express this empathy, he thought.

Hiring Terms

The captain called the four new adventurers to the upper deck of the ship to discuss terms of employment. He ordered beer for the party and wine for himself, thinking that those of lower social status would prefer the dark brew of the dwarves to elven wine. David was the first to pick up on this and requested wine as well, in fact a very specific elven vintage, which they had on hand. The other followed suit, not wanting to look like bumpkins themselves.

That done, Laren announced that for fighting men, employment would be 50 gold pieces to guard the landship on the way back to Grunburg. The sum seemed great to all, which it was considering their skill levels. The ship was in dire need of protection, so they offered what they thought would attract even the reluctant adventurer. To David, who still could not prove his worth in combat, 10 gold pieces were promised. He was not pleased with this and offered that he could make bad things happen to centaurs, such as making trees fall on them and such. Lacking proof of these abilities, Laren simply stated that he would be paid what was fair at the end of the journey. David reluctantly accepted this offer, vowing to show his worth.

After the less than impressive showing made by Jim, he was offered some pointers on shooting a bow by the ship's weaponsmaster, Gina. Laren asked their waitress to show Jim to where Gina was, in the observation room, and away he went out a door and into a gamboling hall. Just through the door a set of spiral stairs wound their way up to the room above. It was a fairly large dome of a room with transparent glassteel walls, where one could observe the countryside as the tourists made their way through territory only braved by the most hardened travellers.

"Mommy, he smells funny," came a taunt from an overdressed lad. He wore a green felt hat with a colorful feather in it and a snakeskin headband. This was as rustic as the kid got. He wore a baby blue silk shirt and puffy satin knickers of blue and gold. His golden hair was curled in ringlets. "This boy wouldn't last a night in the real world," thought Jim. With another remark about his personal hygiene, perhaps much less.

"Now, Jonny, this is how the locals smell. Now hasn't this been a really educational trip so far. ...yes they all dress this grubby. Say hello to the nice local," his mother said, somehow managing to keep that smile on her face that said to Jim that she was either the mother of God or seriously screwed up in the head. He guessed the latter. She widened the smile into a sickly sweet grin and added condescending love to the mix. Ack!.

"Gina, there you are," said the barmaid,"I guess you are to help train this young man in the use of the bow."

A gorgeous female in the obligatory bronze bra and skimpy chainmail looked Jim over as he did the same.

"You must be the one that can't shoot," she stated simply.
Jim didn't say much. She took him down the stairs and out the back door of the gamboling hall on the upper deck outside. She set up a traget at the end of the balcony and invited Jim to shoot. He fired his bow and landed a shot very close to the bullseye [rolled a 17]. Jim beamed with his success. [We all boggled that he could get a good roll finally].

"Maybe you don't suck as bad as they said"
"No maam," Jim said, pulling out another arrow to show her his skill. He fired off the shot, barely missing a window [rolling a 3].
"Why don't we move you a little closer and you can practice some more."
Gina shook her head as she walked away, disgusted with the quality of guards that this town had to offer.

Tony took his arrows to his father's archery shop and together they worked to plajorise the arrowhead design with some success, though it took them the better part of the night to do so. This would be the last time that he would see his father and he wanted to spend some time with his father, getting some last minute pointers and advice and such.

Dave Gets Lucky

Dave used his charm to try to talk himself into better quarters than those assigned to the ship's guards, but with no success. Failing this, he went back up to the gamboling hall. The barmaids and cook were being auctioned off for the night. The bidding on one went almost to 500 gold pieces. David could not believe how open these people were about harlots. Seeing the women clad in little more than they were born in stirred something inside him, or something inside his breeches, in any case. He suddenly felt the need for female companionship.

He smoozed up to a middle aged woman, and what with one thing leading to another, he ended up sleeping in much more comfortable quarters that night.

More Centaurs!

By this time, Jim had finished his practicing with the bow [he got tired of retrieving arrows from the countryside]. He decided to practice his tracking skills. He went into the forest just outside of town and almost immediately noticed hoof tracks. Checking them out, they were fresh and definately made by centaurs. He could tell this not so much from the looks of the tracks, but by the pair of centaurs that they belonged to doubling back and heading his way. He hid in the brush and watched them. He decided to follow them, but they lost him in quick order. About the only thing about them that he could tell was that they were female. Centaurs see little use in a lot of clothing, or any, for that matter. Except for the torso of a human, they look like a smallish horse from there down. They are quick and sure-footed and absolutely deadly accurate with a bow.

Jim decided to report what he he had seen, lacking a few details, of course. He headed back to the ship to Laren's quarters, where a bit of a ruckus was coming from his room.

"Laren, you in there?"
"Don't disturb me! Go away!"
"Are you all right in there?"
The ruckus stopped and Laren's voice sounded irritated to the extreme.
"Bugger off! I'll be out in a while."
The lights turned on for Jim as to what was happening beyond those doors.
"But, we saw centaurs in the woods!"
"We're safe enough here. Goodbye!"
Jim toddled off to bed to get some sleep for the big day ahead.

Dawn Shines Bright and Eventful, a Good Stopping Point

This is where we ended our session. Wayne was fighting nodding off and Tony had to DM in the morning at a local gamestore. No players usually showed up, but the store owner always paid him with store credit for his time, just in case someone DID show up. Why don't these deals ever happen to me? Anyway, that was it for this session.

It looks like this Friday night I will be introducing two new characters into the game. One, a friend of mine named Roger, and another friend named Chad, who is in my opinion one of the very best roleplayers/DM's that I have met to date. So anyway, the group will grow to 6 players, which is in my experience about as large a group as I can keep track of. I will keep you all posted. Bye for now!