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RL Campaigns: updates, ideas, problems and drama
Bogart
Streetwise HerculesRegistered User, Moderator Mod Emeritus
Streetwise HerculesRegistered User, Moderator Mod Emeritus
So, over in the FR thread a good portion of the time is spent posting updates of our ongoing FR games. However, pretty soon my FR game will be going on temporary hiatus as one of my players DM's Scales of War and allows me a break. But I still really like the sound of my own voice and want to continue posting about my RL games even if they're not set in the FR world. Solution? This thread!
Are you in a RL game? You are? Great! What's it about? Where's it set? How was the last session? Are you a player or a DM? If you're the former tell us about your guy and how he's the lynchpin of the party and that natural 20 you rolled to rodeo-ride the dragon while stabbing him with a toothpick. If you're the latter tell us about the story-arc you're putting together and how annoying the barbarian in the party is with his constant one-round annihilation of bad guys you spent hours creating.
What this thread should do: provide people with a repository of cool stuff that's going on in RL games to talk about, steal for your own adventures, breathlessly admire or disparage because you could do so much better. One of the best things about RPG's is the sense of a story unfolding that surprises everyone involved, so regular updates to the thread about what went on last session are both welcome and awesome (stories about games you had way back when are less appropriate, because there's a classic-gaming moments thread already floating about somewhere). It shouldn't impinge on, say, Aegeri's very specific campaign design workshop thread or turn into general D&D discussion. You're running a Traveller campaign? Tell us about it!
So, tell us all about the but where the thing attacked the other thing and you went nu-uh and did the cool thing, but also tell us about the rest of the session and how the game in general is shaping up. Has there been any drama? How did you deal with it? Want to kick around some ideas about how to set up the next plot? Run out of ideas and want to steal some from other DM's? Or did you have an epiphany and come up with an encounter so cool you just have to share it?
You ongoing campaigns. Show me them.
Are you in a RL game? You are? Great! What's it about? Where's it set? How was the last session? Are you a player or a DM? If you're the former tell us about your guy and how he's the lynchpin of the party and that natural 20 you rolled to rodeo-ride the dragon while stabbing him with a toothpick. If you're the latter tell us about the story-arc you're putting together and how annoying the barbarian in the party is with his constant one-round annihilation of bad guys you spent hours creating.
What this thread should do: provide people with a repository of cool stuff that's going on in RL games to talk about, steal for your own adventures, breathlessly admire or disparage because you could do so much better. One of the best things about RPG's is the sense of a story unfolding that surprises everyone involved, so regular updates to the thread about what went on last session are both welcome and awesome (stories about games you had way back when are less appropriate, because there's a classic-gaming moments thread already floating about somewhere). It shouldn't impinge on, say, Aegeri's very specific campaign design workshop thread or turn into general D&D discussion. You're running a Traveller campaign? Tell us about it!
So, tell us all about the but where the thing attacked the other thing and you went nu-uh and did the cool thing, but also tell us about the rest of the session and how the game in general is shaping up. Has there been any drama? How did you deal with it? Want to kick around some ideas about how to set up the next plot? Run out of ideas and want to steal some from other DM's? Or did you have an epiphany and come up with an encounter so cool you just have to share it?
You ongoing campaigns. Show me them.
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With the two defender types on the other side of the area, the battle cleric tried to disengage with the chuul to come help with the varghulf, only to get immobilized. So the barbarian ended up taking a beating from him, but kept him fairly off us while I moved in to beat him up with Reaper's Touch: Magic Missile and oath of emnity for some serious beats.
This session also marked the first and second time I have ever missed with the second attack on The One Sword (which dazes and doesn't expend the power). That's like 4 levels of never missing the secondary attack, and I use it fairly regularly. Very frustrating. I also tried to mess with some runes on a very dangerous door where death was implied as the penalty for failing. So I roll a natural 1 on the Arcana check (still a respectable 25 with an assist from the sorcerer) and the door begins to get red hot and 'tic' which I take to mean EXPLOSION INC, so I run and hide behind a rock. Luckily the varghulf nearby was amicable and turned it off and opened the door for us.
I enjoy this campaign very much, but we're wrapping up on major plot stuff soon, and unfortunately I only get to stay for a couple hours of it. I have a summer class that conflicts, but only have 2 weeks of class remaining. Also, I've been walking around with an awesome artifact that wants to possess me for some time now. Silly Myrkul and his wanting to be resurrected. I just want it so that I can destroy the undead of Thay, and for all the stimulating conversations.
Our heroes:
Azyriel, Genasi Swordmage
Zalgo the Incomprehensible, Human Wizard
Finnan McGrin, Halfling Rogue
Part-timer: Keothi, Goliath Barbarian
Last encounter completed: Hidden Armory (they solved the riddle on the second try).
The highlight reel:
Sir Smidj: In lieu of Splug (whom I was sure the party would outright kill), I reskinned him as a noble kobold "paladin" in the service of Bahamut. He makes glorious speeches before, during, and after fights in Draconic, which only Zalgo speaks--this is usually brushed off as "the little reptillian said something about blood".
Yer a Wizard: The party members are all pretty outlandishly dressed (Syrimir looks like an extra from Kingdom of Heaven, Finnan has got a strange bright orange-and-blue color scheme, Keothi is huge, Azyriel has got that genasi glow). Many of the townsfolk are convinced that they are all wizards, except for the actual wizard, who, since he does not dress like a wizard, must be a priest.
Heads Up: Syrimir feels that the best way to shop a job has been completed is to bring back a head.
Proving that there's kobolds out on the road? Bring back a head to the tavern.
Proving that the kobold lair has been cleared out and the dread Irontooth dead? Bring back Irontooth's head to the Lord of Winterhaven.
Coming Attraction
4E Eberron Game: I'm pretty pumped about playing in Eberron for the first time. I'm either going to go Leader (Warlord or Artificer) or Controller (Wizard).
All Flesh Must be Eaten: All that we've been told by the GM is that we'll be survivors who are one year into a zombie apocalypse. I'm going to be playing the surgeon/diplomat of the group.
Buffy WWII: I'm running a game set in the Buffyverse during World War II. One player is a Watcher in charge of a newly appointed slayer. Another is a werewolf/soldier under the command of Mad Jack Churchill, who has been assigned to assist the Watcher's Council in a joint-mission for the survival of Britain. The last player is a reincarnated King Arthur, back to save Britain in its darkest hour. The big bad is going to be the Count St. Germain, a vampire who forges an alliance with the Nazis in order to obtain the Holy Grail and use it in some ritual to _________________ (still working on that part).
Before we decided to take a break, we were supplementing our in-person games with online RPing. Time constraints got bad enough that we were basically doing everything outside of combat online, then running fights in person. At the time I was running a 4E game in a homebrew setting that our group came up with back in high school and that we still like to return to from time to time (using our original characters). This game had one of my favorite moments as a DM/GM ever. Spoilered for long:
Argol: Warforged Barbarian on a quest to discover what it means to be alive and to unravel the mystery of his past (flashes of memories of a prior life).
Artium: Elven sorcerer who ran out of an arranged marriage between the Elves and the Eladrin. He became hunted by both sides. Later, in an effort to save the party, he made a pact with a horrible fey creature, which would later cast suspicion on his actions (AKA we switched to 4E before PHB2 came out).
Ponder: A bookish, bumbling Eladrin wizard who everyone mistook for a woman.
Quarion: A cleric of Bahamut, Quarion was the face of the party and managed to mediate conflicts between the group memebers (usually). Also, he had the quirk of rolling extremely low whenever he called upon Bahamut's guidance and strength.
Sal: A halfling rogue who was a spy/wetworks guy for the forces of good. Over time, Sal managed to gain something of a conscience. Early on he, he STOLE everything.
They were up against a mysterious figure named Velsed, who was attempting to open the barrier between the living and the dead. Their primary antagonist was a wizard named Caltor, who was a Dark Knight-esque Joker figure, sowing chaos and misdirecting the party from Velsed's actions.
During their travels, Sal fell in love with a halfling callgirl and got her out of that lifestyle. Eventually, he got her pregnant. At a certain point in the game, the party was investigating some crypts beneath a city. Sal told his girlfriend (Tory) to stay at the tavern and even made sure there were guards to protect her.
As they're far underground, the following happens (I've plucked the best bits from the posts my players made):
Her hands cradled her slightly bulging stomach.
She tripped and fell to her knees, one hand bracing her fall, the other clenching against her stomach.
She looked up at Sal, desperation in her eyes. Tory pleaded, her voice full of anguish. "Sal, help me. Something's wrong with our baby!"
"Someone please, we need a healer! Quarion, is there anything you can do? She's pregnant, and the baby is hurt!"
Tears began to swell in his eyes. At the moment, his mind was not thinking about getting revenge against whoever did this. He just wanted to make sure that Tory and the baby were okay. After that, he would kill whoever had did this no matter what it took.
Quarion began to treat the most serious of the wounds first. When he was finished, Quarion prayed a blessing for Tory and the child that she carried.
The prayer completed, Quarion turned to Sal and said quietly, "I've done my best to treat her, but I fear that most of the injury might be internal. We should get her to a more powerful healer."
Suddenly, she snapped upright to a sitting position. "SAL!" she screamed, pain and terror making her voice panicked. "PLEASE! HELP!"
Sal was shocked to feel something in her stomach moving. The movement became faster and stronger. Tory screamed, a ragged sound that rose and fell in pitch but didn't stop. Her hand tightened into a deathgrip. Looking down, he saw a small skeletal hand burst through her stomach, then stared in horror as the hand pulled at the ragged wound it had made. Another hand soon followed. They tugged in opposite directions. Once the whole was large enough, a skeletal halfling child pulled itself out. It looked at Sal, its eye sockets empty.
"Hello, Daddy," it said in the high-pitched innocent voice of a child. It scampered across the room toward Artium.
Another followed, dressed in what looked to be a blood-soaked sundress. "Daddy!" it shouted in the excitable tones of a little girl before crawling with preternatural speed toward Ponder.
Two more followed out, both of them saying hello to Sal in the voices of young boys. One ran off toward Argol, the other leaped at Quarion and wrapped its arms around his neck, nuzzling its head into the cleric's shoulder.
Tory's screaming stopped abruptly. Her grip on Sal's hand slackened. She ceased breathing. Her eyes stared blankly. Blood pooled on the floor around her, soaking into the knees of Sal's pants where he knelt on the floor.
The skeletal child approached Artium and jumped onto his thigh, using its legs and an arm to hold on to him. Its free hand scrabbled at the elf's belt, its bony fingers slipping under his armor and scratching at his ribs. "Give me all your gold, Arti! Daddy taught me how to do this."
The skeletal little girl came up to Ponder and hugged his leg. "Miss Ponder, can you teach me how to be a girl? My mommy is dead now." She bit into the eladrin's knee and began gnawing. The folds in his robe managed to keep Ponder safe from physical harm for the moment.
Another skeletal child stumbled toward Argol and put his hands up in an approximation of a boxer's guards. It punched futilely at the warforged's ankles. "Mister Argol, my daddy wasn't strong enough to keep my mom safe. Can you keep us safe?"
The final child held on tightly to Quarion. "Uncle Quarion, can you say a prayer for us? Mommy is dead and I don't think Daddy knows how to be a daddy." The child bit and scratched frantically at Quarion, but the cleric's armor protected him.
Through the door, four goblins marched forward, each carrying a short sword and staring blankly. Behind them, Caltor, the Mad Wizard, emerged. Upon seeing the spectacle before him, he smiled maliciously and began cackling. His laughter sounded inhuman.
"Caltor! You will pay for this you bastard! I WILL KILL YOU!!!!"
As tears ran down Sal's cheeks, he charged towards the nearest goblin blocking his way from reaching Caltor and effortlessly slaughtered it. No one was stopping him from taking his revenge.
Caltor began cackling, the sound of his mad laughter echoing throughout the chamber. "Did that hurt, Gorwith? Savor the experience once more, midget!" With those words, the memories and perceptions of Tory's "childbirth" and death bombarded Sal, as real as they were the first time. He strained against them and was able to again see the goblin and Caltor in front of him.
The child near Quarion jumped at him again, wrapping its arms around his neck. It pulled its head back to look at Quarion in the eye. "I guess Bahamut didn't love my mommy. Does he still love you, you pathetic fuck cleric shitbag?" The child's voice quickly shifted from innocent to malevolent as it scratched at Quarion's face.
The little girl pursued Ponder as he moved away. "Lady Ponder, are you running away from me? I'm going to rip your tongue from your girly face, you little bitch." It grabbed onto Ponder's leg and began trying to climb.
Near Argol, the child scurried up his leg and began skittering around his body, scratching at the non-metal parts. "Argol, you're so cold and unfeeling." It made its way to his head and whispered in his ear. "Why don't you just make it easier on them? They're not going to survive the fight. You can snap the halfling and the elves in half. Quarion's not even looking. It would be mercy."
The child on Artium's leg remained there, still scrabbling for his coinpurse. "WHERE IS YOUR GODDAMNED GOLD, ARTI? DID DADDY STEAL IT ALL AWAY?" it shrieked.
"You have given me a great gift, Caltor. I will not forget it. You are the reason that I have life."
Argol brought his other hand up, cupping the first, pressing the skeleton's skull significantly, feeling the thing begin to deflect from the force.
He took another step.
"And now I am the reason that you will know death."
"I am going to rip your fucking head from your body."
The skeletal child who'd been attacking Ponder found itself unable to move. It began to cry, then began to make retching noises. Suddenly, it vomited a stream of acid at the eladrin wizard. Luckily, Ponder's disoriented stumbling allowed him to narrowly avoid contact with the acid.
Argol took advantage of the skeleton's immobility, stomping down with his massive foot. He crushed its right arm and foot, sending it toppling to the ground, where it began to writhe on the floor. The skeletal child in his hand continued to struggle. Argol held the child before him, examining it as it kicked and scratched and screamed.
"I'm going to rip you to pieces, you fucking soulless machine!" it screeched.
Argol crushed the creature's skull, reducing everything except for the lower jaw to a fine white powder. Amazingly, the remains of the skeleton continued to struggle. He threw the remaining bones against the nearest wall, where they exploded into separate pieces and stopped moving.
The child attached to Artium's leg continued to paw for his coinpurse. It suddenly stopped, then looked up into the elf's eyes. "Fine, you fuckwit elf douchebag. Keep your gold. I'm going to rip your acorn-sized balls off." It began to try to slide its hand down the waistband of Artium's pants.
soulless soulless soulless soulless soulless soulless
The word echoed in his mind as he spun the great axe, building up some momentum. Caltor, cold and hysterical, stood before him, screaming at the party
his party
Argol's blade swung down in a lazy arc, tearing robes and flesh as it fell.
soulless
If Argol could have squinted he would have.
"You are afraid of me," Argol said. "Or I have something you want, don't I... old man?"
His arm, mechanical as it was, had the benefit of not following the traditional routine of standard ball-and-socket limbs, and as the great axe completed it's downward swing, Argol brought it back up into an underhand blow.
The blade and mount of his great weapon caught Caltor well under the sternum, lifting him into the air by several feet, and sending him crashing down to the ground.
"You play to what you think are our fears," he hissed, a jet of steam popping in his neck. "But they are your fears. Aren't they?"
Argol hefted the axe.
"You will fear no more, magician."
As Sal looked upon Caltor's bloody corpse, the blade dropped from his hands and he began to weep uncontrollably as his mind finally caught up to the reality of the situation. Almost everything he cared for in life had been taken from him in a single day.
Behind him, Tory stood up, hate and malice evident in her eyes. "Tell me, runt, how does it feel to lose everything?" Her body lengthened and contorted to become a nearly six foot tall human man, with pale skin and wide eyes. Tory's blood soaked tunic became long black robes. His long black beard seemed to disappear into them. "You insignificant rabble have undone all I've worked for in the past thousand years!" Spittle flew from Caltor's face as he yelled. "BWAH!"
With his yell, a ring of flames appeared around him, burning Quarion and setting the clothing beneath his armor on fire. Caltor teleported across the room, leaving behind a few wisps of black smoke and the smell of brimstone.
Caltor looked out at the motley assortment of adventures arrayed against him. "If you worms wish to finish this and meet your doom, we do it on my terms. If so, I'll see you in the Shadowfell. If not, I'm sure that idiot Velsed has plans for you."
He pulled an orb from his robe. The room briefly dimmed, then Caltor disappeared.
The downside is, however, I am slowly becoming convinced that my character has Mordenkaidan's Magical Douchebag Sign pinned to my back, as it would seem as if my dude ends up on the bad side of Krynn's general populace for the most random reasons. Almost the entirety of the Port of Call hates me due to me winning a duel that they all bet against me on, thus the city as a whole lost a decent amount of gold to my party member who, himself, finds random reasons to ridicule my dude.
The party raised the warlord who died last session and headed back to Loudwater, taking time to enjoy the roses on the way. Smoke inevitably rose along the horizon, and the party hurried to find a smoking wagon, some dead bodies and evidence of children kidnapped from the travelling party. Tracking the kidnappers to their nearby lair they found bandits and a lizardman (the FR Campaign Guide encounter) plying a sleazy slave trade. But the encounter felt a bit bland to me, so I took advantage of the fact that one of my players had a Beholder figure and added one in as their boss.
A couple of utterly terrible stealth rolls later had the sorcerer and the rogue finding themselves isolated from the rest of the party and under attack. They held out long enough for everyone else to ride in and start wrecking the joint, but the Beholder gave them some trouble. Clues hinting that the nefarious Zark, whose 'innocent' package started their campaign 18 weeks ago, was behind this group of bandits and their slavery.
And so back to Loudwater and a heroes welcome. Ceremonial medallions were awarded, Lady Moonfire gave everyone a hug (pleasingly, several members of the party expressed delight that she and her ridiculous voice made a return to the game) and Curuvar was grateful for the finding of every item on his wanted books list. And of course, during the ceremony, a Behir showed up to ruin the party. Which the party eviscerated in short order. Two of them went down, but for a solo three levels above them they made short work of it.
Everyone got pissed and then the morning after they set out for Baldur's Gate. I'm going to drip-feed clues and letters and so forth while we're not playing the campaign so that they'll have plenty to think about before we pick up again, but overall I think these last eighteen weeks have gone pretty well. They're all level 6 now, they have a fair idea of the over-arching plot, and they all say they're looking forward to the next section. Sorted.
Choose Your Own Chat 1 Choose Your Own Chat 2 Choose Your Own Chat 3
Session 1 - "Bad Day at Blackrock"
With the train damaged by the battle, the passengers and PCs had to make a layover in the town of Blackrock, which was touted as a restful rustic retreat. In point of fact, the town turned out to be a humid subtropical hellhole infested with mosquitoes, barking dogs, rotting buildings, and creepy neighbors. While the wealthy passengers languished and complained in the town’s ramshackle inn, the unctuous halfling mayor Perrin strongly discouraged the PCs from fraternizing. Being persistent, they did anyway, arousing stony glances and the open ire of some locals – such as Shep, the menacing half-orc blacksmith who is making sticks of rebar, ostensibly to shore up the ruined old barn at the end of town, and the Sergeant and the Colonel, human and elven war veterans who are breeding vicious attack dogs in their backyard.
But the party also made contact with the local animal doctor, Kassar, a friendlier, more open fellow originally from parts unknown, who asked them to investigate a mysterious Man in Smoked Goggles who had been stalking the townsfolk over the past week, watching them through lenses and then disappearing into the thick woods when they got too close.
The PCs found the Man in Smoked Goggles later that night, but he teleported away, leaving behind a whiff of brimstone and a ciphered journal containing references to the Order of the Emerald Claw. The commotion attracted the attention of the two breeders and their hideous pets, who gleefully chased the PCs through a field to the ruined barn, where a battle royal took place.
The PCs dealt with their foes handily, but the battle took a horrifying turn as the Colonel suddenly lashed at Aden with a ropey six-foot tongue tipped with a second mouth and rows of sharp teeth. The tongue, a bio-weapon called a symbiont, burned to ash upon its host’s death, and left the PCs with the realization that they are facing more than just murderous yokels, because such horrifying organisms are only found in the depths of the sinister underworld known as Khyber…
Session 2 - "Children of the Cairn"
Meanwhile, the three others encountered the elderly farm couple Bryke and Alma, who had apparently been awakened by the noise of the battle against the Colonel’s dogs. Bryke, the husband, was solicitous and polite to the adventurers, but his wife was intensely suspicious and hateful of the “outsiders.”
Returning to the inn, the adventurers linked up with Mattoh, who filled them in on the menace that they had apparently stumbled into. Ordering the passengers to bar their doors and set a watch, the four resolved to head into town and get some answers. Odo sneaked into the homes of the Colonel, finding nothing of interest, and of Kassar the animal doctor; where he discovered, in a locked roll-top desk, a sheaf of official-looking documents charting the spread and progress of an “infection,” and a curt telegram stating “The Man in Smoked Goggles is after you.”
At the same time, the people of Blackrock had awakened, and were slowly filing into the mysterious new barn in Bryke and Alma’s field, chanting in strange and forbidden tongues about “the preserver” and “the harvest.” The party snuck up to the edge of the barn but were caught and set upon by the hulking half-orc blacksmith Shep and a cadre of ferocious, unhinged cultists. While Shep knocked Ty to the ground with his hammer-like fists, from the front porch of the farmhouse, the formerly unctuous halfling Mayor Perrin taunted the PCs, telling them they should have left well enough alone – then the mayor’s skin and mouth yawned open, as thousands of beetles and centipedes poured forth and attacked the party.
Defeating the cultists and horrible bug swarm, the party surrounded the seemingly-indestructible blacksmith and finally beat him into the ground, then made their attack upon the locked barn. From the windows above, Odo disrupted the ceremony spectacularly, pitching Shep’s body into the crowd. As the townsfolk fled from the barn, the PCs confronted the high priests of the cult – the farm couple, Bryke and Alma – and their precious “preserver,” a colossal Khyber dragonshard, a repository of baleful magic that had enslaved the town and unhinged their minds.
The mad couple explained that the town’s children had gone off to fight and die in the Last War, and without them the townsfolk had fallen into despair and ruin, with buildings unrepaired and fields laying fallow. But when a battle had erupted in their very field, the devastation had unearthed the giant Khyber shard, which are normally only found at great depths. The shard had spoken to the couple, promising them their children back, and as Alma gestured, their “children” revealed themselves – dolgaunts and fell taints, aberrant creatures of living madness from the Far Realm.
A desperate battle ensued, with the party fighting for their lives against impossible odds. Mattoh went down first to the powerful psychic attacks of the horrific fell taints, then Ty and Aden fell to the dolgaunts’ claws – but sheer force of will brought Mattoh and Aden back into the fight, while Odo, concealed in the rafters, scored hit after hit with his throwing daggers. As first Bryke and then Alma fell, the malevolent dragonshard smoked, shuddered, and finally exploded, its magics unraveling and dropping the aberrant horrors to the ground like discarded marionettes.
As the party picked themselves up, their erstwhile quarry, The Man in Smoked Goggles, appeared to congratulate them on their hard-fought victory. He revealed that he had come to Blackrock in pursuit of an agent of the Order of the Emerald Claw who was conducting a “weapons test” on the unwitting populace. The adventurers made the connection at once – Kassar, the animal doctor, was the agent of the Claw, and the weapon was the maddening Khyber shard. The Man in Smoked Goggles, who told the party to call him Paradox, hinted darkly that the town’s infection would have to be “cleansed” – but said that his associates may have work for enterprising young adventurers and gave them a business card bearing the image of a lantern, telling them to bring it to the Ghallandra Enclave in Sharn on the last day of the week.
Returning to the ruined hostel, the adventurers prepared to end their night in the dead town of Blackrock, and board the train that will take them to the legendary Sharn, City of Towers.
The first thing I did was pulled up a couple documents on a computer hooked up to a 42" TV, consisting of a list of classes, pantheons I thought up, and a spreadsheet for races (mostly PHB races, with a column for monsters I'd like to see featured, and one simply labeled 'No.' with Kender underneath). I opened up the Dungeon Master's Guide to the section about setting and proceeded to read talk about the default assumptions for the world and how we might change it.
I highly recommend everyone give cooperative world-building a try sometime. So far we haven’t added too many specifics beyond two or three regions I provided, but we did pick out a couple races for prominence and added several more to the No list (most were joke entries, though; I believe ‘Tinker Gnomes’ and ‘Drizzt’ are up there, despite ‘Gnomes’ and ‘Drow being featured races). The notable distinctions I recall settling on were that the world was to be made up of numerous kingdoms and that most races didn’t necessarily get along with each other; Human nations with few other native races, Hobgoblin fortress-kingdoms bordering Elven nations, an empire of floating Beholder cities, and so on. Much of that time was spent talking about fantasy tropes and D&D clichés, and just the kind of stuff we did and did not want to see. Busty Dragonborn ladies got a big no.
After that we created characters. Again we used the PC with the HD television screen and pulled up Character Builder for everyone to see. I explained the assumption that the PCs would be experienced individuals who would be now looking for others of equal caliber to compliment their own strengths & weaknesses and get some big adventures/capers done. So everyone agreed to cover the basic combat positions of offense/defense/support, and started talking character concepts and ways PCs could have teamed up, as I went through CB one at a time. We ended up with:
Gideon Adolmyr, Human Bard. His aspiration is to write an epic song about adventuring, and figures the best way to do so is to hang out with such folks. Fortunately he is also a skilled swordsman. I haven’t gathered where he is from, but it may be the local region.
Yannic, Revenant human Fighter. Yannic is a deathly-grey man, found banging on somebody’s door in the middle of one night. By his fragmented memories he participated in the Omiran crusades to overthrow its Lich overlords, some 200 years ago. I'm hoping to explore this more.
Noelani, Kenku Rogue. She came from a family of traders in the western lands, eventually traveling east when things got too crowded and seeing the same routes and fighting bandits was too mundane. Exploring seems to be a big motivation.
We left it at that for the day, giving me a week to create a first adventure hook for next Sunday.
The player characters are currently in a coastal region known in the common language as White Shores, but it surely has a fancier Elven name. To the southeast is the nation of Omira, now ruled democratically by humans. Following this absense of Lich-kings, refugees and travellers have been settling White Shores in droves, founding the major port city of Overlook, surrounding an Eladrin mage tower atop a cliffside beach.
Anyhow, this is where we established that Yannic and Gideon had just encountered Noelani the Kenku, the later exiting a mercenary recruitment center in a huff. Nobody was looking for more than caravan guards and personal protection, apparently, but these three decided they would work well together.
I handed Gideon's player a map and a letter, telling him Gideon had met with an old contact last week and had been given a tip to find a treasure trove. Thus I left him in charge of the plot hook and let them sort out their plans. Both items were penned by a semi-retired wayfarer Dwarf named Ber, who discovered a monastery once used by an order of mystics. It had been partially razed long ago and now held by Bullywugs, but surely some possessions would be left in storage. The group agreed they would follow the map's directions and travel a few days south to explore the place. Passing a few inns along the way (one evidently razed by Bullywugs in recent days), they rest for a day to wait until sunset and approach the stone walls of the place.
The decision to have Bullywugs as an obstacle was something I came up with on short notice, having some encounters involving Kobolds previously concocted. It had something to do with the MM2 entry stating the frogmen were 'destructive' and 'noisesome' swamp-dwellers, painting a picture of an uncouth, disagreeable lot who simply wrecked more things than they actively took or destroyed. Thus in my mind they became hillbillies.
Sneaking through the grasses, they came within earshot of two Bullywugs arguing over something in an 'aggle blakk-blaggle' sort of primordial-derived language I decided would fall under Goblinoid in this setting. Yannic knew goblinoid, and so he heard most of the conversation I had made notes of as a means to drop entryway hints:
TADDY PO: "Closest place fo' crawdads is right here."
GRIPPY: "We got a po-trol to git on, we outta fish down the waterhole on break!"
TADDY PO: "I outta fish down yer froat!"
GRIPPY (shouting) "T'hear dat, Toadeen? Taddy PO tay he goan fish down my froat!"
TOADEEN (appears atop the wall, shoting down": "I outta fish down *both* yer froats if you don't go on po-trol!"
So PCs wait for the bullywugs to leave and the PCs approach the 3' sewer drain. Unfortunately, Yannic the fighter can't pull the bronze grate from the masonry (they were really close both times, but the others failed their assists and nobody tried to unscrew the bolts I described as not pulling out). This draws the attention of Toadeen on the wall, who calls for three reinforcements. The PCs pelt them with magic taunts and crossbow bolts, killing Taddy Po and Grippy on their return, but they chose to cut and run and try another approach. Noting Ber's letter mentioning rock-climbing, They use their rope and get Yannic to lead the way up the cliffside and assist in pulling them up, then clamboring onto the wall and into the halls built inside the mountainside.
This started a skill challenge of discretely exploring half of a very large complex, staying away from big mobs of bullywugs and searching for possible treasure rooms. I simply told them I'd describe the general feel of the sorts of rooms and halls they'd move through and they could come up with skills they could use to get through the place over the course of the evening. This went pretty smoothly with lots of success and I didn't have to do much other than make them stumble upon some small bullywug quarters and have a quick fight. I was going to have 1-2 minions drop on them and simply summarize as 'you fight them off and just one of you loses a healing surge worth of HP', but again they were making successful progress.
To cut to the important part, they broke into an art collection room full of shelves and tapestries, in an out-of-the-way place whose main door was locked. There wese a couple easy to carry art pieces and a collection of weapons on display and the faint presence of magic. The rogue picked out a pair of statues and a strange metal band, while The bard narrowed the weapons down to a pair of dwarf-forged steel swords (weapons of magic by all accounts). Some scrolls and parchment cases were also taken. Soon the sound of approaching enemies could be heard and they prepared themselves of an ambush.
Suddenly the doors on the upper balcony flew open and out stepped a bullywug with a big straw hat, lots of jewelry and an alligator chained to the end of a staff. This chieftain was soon dubbed 'Boss Frog', as he let out a magical fiery shout:
Soon the bullywugs come charging in and an all-out brawl starts. Boss Frog unchains the gator and kicks him down the stairway ramp, and it chases down the fighter and clamps down on his leg repeatedly. The rogue engages the boss as the Bard takes down the under-equipped but numerous bullywug toadies. Eventually the group performs some amazing stunts and end the ambush; Gideon the Bard leaps off the balcony and jumps atop the gator with a charge, the Rogue throws a tapestry atop two bullywugs and slides down the ramp into one of them with a surprise stab. The fighter chases down the last bullywug and stabs him clean through with his new dwarven blade.
Finding a shortcut out a porthole window to the rocky mountainside, they make off like thieves in the night and travel back to Overlook to sell their loot. One thing noted so far about the items is the metal band's inscription hammered out in Omira's local Noic language. It makes a few cryptic directions and the mention of a gold sarcophagus. Thus we ended the session and will pick things back up in Overlook.
First I want to evaluate the monster.
So after finally downing my big baddie, they of course get some seriously phat lewtz and continue their pursuit of the bad guys in the underground temple to Shar. Their goal in here is to find the location of a rather elusive Lich who has been causing some problems for the local town. The apparent leader of the cult, Xavier, eluded to the fact that he knew the location and tried to tempt the adventurers with some kind of reward if they just ignored what they had seen and left. When they did not agree, he naturally sent the dragon to do his dirty work.
Since the dragon fight took so incredibly long, I decided to forgo the next encounter, even though it was probably the linchpin in my entire dungeon build and map selection. It will surface later, yes indeed.
After winding up through a passage, they can to the backside of a secret door that led to the personal quarters of The Merchant Prince Meshif. Meshif is a self-proclaimed prince, not royalty by any means, and has been buying up/driving off other merchants to expand his influence in Xorhun, and is also quite racist towards non-humans. Strolling into his chamber revealed a sight of Meshif lounging around, enjoying the life of luxury with his many concubines (for comedy value, I went with the cliche' of a woman with a feathered fan, one peeling grapes, another dancing etc.) who were scared out of their minds when the minotaur comes through the curtains at the back of the room.
Meshif begins to bargain with the party, informing them he is not a member of the cult, but that he accepted their gifts of money and women etc to allow them to operate in the city without the most prominent figure pitching a fit. He bargains to tell the party where the Lich is, if they let him keep his luxurious lifestyle. The smart party says that it isn't enough, but he has one more mysterious piece of information to divulge that they would find very interesting. Xavier appears and threatens Meshif for giving this information of course, and just as he is about to divulge it he is ambushed by the drow lurking in the room. The concubines fly into another frenzy, just after calming down, and the drow reveals herself to be Shivra, an assassin allied with the organization the party just finished aiding in Rahesh.
As the guards try and break their way into the chamber, Shivra slips a small vial to the shaman and breaks through a window and into the night. Members of the guard force secure the room and begin a city wide search for the woman, whom the party attempts to pass off as a non-ally. A bit of backstory is missing, but that would be because they are now level 7 (after this interaction/session).
More to come as they approach the lich's lair to confront an enemy they have been seeking for months! Do they have the brass to take on this litigious licentious lich?
Also, STRICT DISCLAIMER OBSCURED SHADOWS PLAYERS, DO NOT READ.
Maybe:
Or maybe...
Basically I think I need to keep poking the fighter to keep him from turning into a hard little lump. You know, like a pot of macaroni.
Heh. Boss Frog.
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I've been creeping them out throughout this whole dungeon, because it's been populated by gnolls and their undead servants, but as they've fought deeper and deeper underground I've started dropping hints that the gnolls are freaked out by something down here. Barricades that are faced to keep something IN the crypt rather than out, gnolls looking nervous and seeming more concerned about watching the tunnels deeper into the complex than the entrance, wierd roars from the bottom of the complex that seem to freak the gnolls out, etc.
And then the party finishes an encounter, turns a corner, and discovers a long hallway with the floors and walls completely slicked with relatively fresh blood, filled with broken barricades and a few mangled gnolls corpses; further exploration revealed that the small crypts lining the hallway have been turned into morgues, stacked with dozens of half-eaten dead gnolls. As a bonus, the far end of the hallway had enormous iron doors with something akin to 'for the love of god, don't open these goddamn doors, ever' carved into them in Iokharic; the doors were ajar, and also covered in blood.
So in the course of proceeding as carefully as possible and trying not to look concerned about facing something that appears to have killed and eaten thirty or so gnolls, our intrepid adventurers managed to fumble a stealth check, kick some rubble down the hallway and alert a pair of ghouls to their presence.
They ended up fighting 2 downleveled ghouls and a downleveled rot beetle swarm (the swarm having come out of the piles of bodies when they were disturbed), which was only a level 2.75 encounter for a level 2 party.
Unfortunately, because they were trying to get this fight done as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, they ended up staging this fight mostly inside a 3x3 room, with a ghoul in the doorway preventing the party cleric from getting inside, and also preventing everyone else from getting OUT while they were stuck inside the beetle swarm's aura.
Exciting highlights included 'oh shit' moments like the first time a ghoul managed to land a Ghoulish Bite (nearly dropping the druid on the spot), and the time the rogue landed a critical hit on the beetle swarm only to be told that he dealt 14 damage instead of the 29 he rolled, and that it wasn't even bloodied.
The cleric ended up as the MVP of the fight, dropping a couple well-rolled Sacred Flames in order to incinerate her way into the room, killing both ghouls in about the amount of time it took everyone else working together to kill off the beetle swarm.
And then we had to call it for the night before they could start to figure out what it was that had straight-up murdered dozens of gnolls in one go when the party can barely handle 4 or so at a time. They are...concerned
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One thing I learned is that players want to roll dice. When they were striking minions, I would just say "okay, that kruthik is destroyed," and then all of a sudden, one of them would throw a fuss about wanting to roll damage.
From now on, I'll conduct minions as if they might have more than one HP and let my players roll damage. I don't really get it, but they seem to enjoy it.
I've got my third game with this group coming up on Thursday. After this adventure I've got two players who want to take over for a few sessions. I'm going to do my damnedest to get them to 5th level so I get to pick a second daily when I roll up my character.
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
I have purposefully never explained the mechanics of minions to my party. :P
I'll go light on the details, lest they read this and it affects their sense of plot, but they do know the scrolls and tomes recovered were a mix of Omiran Lich-King diagrams & texts and monastic study guides. The statues were appraised and identified as mystic focuses, while the 'metal band' (which bears the level 5 power stone enchantment, as I recall) was claimed to be one-half of a bracelet, likely some kind of Lich-King storehouse key. The inscribed text was likely half the directions to such a storehouse. They let the curio scholar research the items for a day and his conclusion was the monks (none told the guy where exactly they got the stuff) aided in the human uprising against their Lich-King masters, 2 centuries ago. I recall they sold off all but one statue, four gold/silver rings, and the metal band.
So anyhow, this all prompted them to return to said monastery and look for more stuff. The expectation that the bullywugs will be in a different state of readiness has been voiced, so maybe I'll change things around a little bit. It will depend on how they enter this time around, but they did buy a lot of rope and climbing gear.
They also bought a small cart and a donkey-like pack animal, which they have named Albert.
They are recruited by a secretive government organization to investigate reports of surviving Nazis in Antarctica.
I wanted the game to have a sort of mysterious/weird vibe, similar to Lost. As such, I decided to try a different sort of gamemastering technique.
I became an unreliable narrator.
When they arrived in Antarctica, I told them they were met by an Inuit guide. One of my players interjected, saying that Inuits lived closer to the north pole. I shrugged. The guide led them through the barren snowscape for the rest of the day. They made camp for the night.
During the night, they began hearing strange noises off in the distance. One of the players asked me what the Inuit guide thought of them. I looked at the player, deadpan, and asked, "What Inuit guide?"
"The one that's been with us all day."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
"Uh... The one that met us when we got off the ship?"
"You've got to be mistaken. You guys have been on your own for the whole day."
"No, you told us he was leading us to our destination."
"Are you sure? I don't remember doing anything like that..."
One of my players caught on to what I was doing, the other two thought I had some sort of short term memory lapse, and the last one was totally confused. I peppered in other weird bits thoughout the game and I thought it really enhanced the mood I was going for. Players are used to the GM being omnipotent and omniscient, so it can be fun to subvert that every now and then.
I'm trying to establish a wide divide between how I can control the setting and how I can control the PCs, enabling them to take initiative and declare they'll try to do any action they feel their PC should attempt. It seems to be encouraging them to strategize amongst themselves and rely on friendly NPCs, but they still like to mingle around waiting for somebody to say 'the party will move onward1!' and the DM to whisk them halfway accross the countryside to the next item of note.
Also, I set up a wiki page for our group-contributed setting. Two things which came up during the session was a debate over vampire folklore and the nature of the continent's native fauna being dominated by large rabbit/rodent-form species akin to the book After Man by Dougal Dixon. Their feast was a rabbuck roasted on a spit. Maybe it was a jackalope.
In my campaign last night, the party questioned the dead guy and some others involved in the plot to get the information they were after about the location of the lich. Traveling north, they reach a cliffside tower sitting over a lake/oasis (they are in a desert after all) and confront a ragtag bunch of skeletons which they promptly decimate.
A poorly kept defensive wall separated the field they were in and the tower they were apparently headed to. Opening the door, the party was confronted with some zombies. They meant serious business. After a round, they had displayed that this battle was well in hand. And that's when more zombies started showing up. At the beginning of each round, a random zombie (or zombies) would pop up and begin to harass the party. After several rounds they determined that retreating was probably the best option. They got pinned down right next to the tower's door, that suddenly burst open to burn the zombies to ash.
From here, the lich revealed himself and asked the adventurers to perform a task for him, saying there was a dire need for him to prevent somebody bad from happening. But like a good NPC, he tells them little to nothing, because of some magical circumstances they can't comprehend. So now they are off to kill a slave trading succubus. Fun times!
It's a shock to the system from DM'ing, that's for sure.
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Then we stopped counting minions.
I fell behind quickly.
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
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I've been trying to figure out how to present the "monster of the week" to them for each game. In doing so, I rewatched some of the episodes.
Most eps, it starts with a short teaser of some random person briefly encountering, then being attacked by the monster.
I'm thinking of doing something like this at the start of each adventure:
Me: "Okay, Jeff. You are currently playing Jessica Bridges, a housewife in her mid-thirties. It's dusk. Your husband is outside mowing the lawn when you suddenly notice that the engine to the lawn mower is running, but you don't hear it moving. Then, you swear you hear him screaming over the noise."
Jeff: "I run outside."
Me: "You see mower is running, but there's blood every where. Your husband is nowhere to be seen, but the trail of blood leads off into the woods behind your house."
Jeff: "I scream, then follow the blood into the trees."
Me: "You come upon the corpse of your husband, his throat torn upon and long slash marks across your chest."
Jeff: "I start running away."
Me: "You hear a growling behind you and the noise of sticks and underbrush snapping as something chases you. It catches up to you and leaps on your back, sending you tumbling to the ground. You feel its hot breath on the back of your necks as it holds your head in its jaws. You hear and feel a snap, then nothing."
From there, we would shift over to the players and their actual characters. So basically, the group would get some sort of teaser with random playable everyday people before the game shifted over to their Hunters and tracking leads, investigating, etc.
What do you guys think?
One thing I noticed about playing a Deva is that it really doesn't fit my natural style at all. I kept having to qualify jokes and smarty-pants comments I was making with "I certainly don't say". The nearest I can come to my usual sass and mickey-taking is a sincere curiosity towards anything dumb. Sort of "You managed to fall over the bar and set yourself on fire. Interesting."
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My current RL group consists of just two players: my brother (a sorceror) and my fiancee (a warden). To keep them in the fight, I have created a cleric who travels with them and who I guess qualifies as a DMPC. I've always been very wary of this kind of thing, as I don't want to feel that I'm projecting myself into the party, stealing kills or giving myself treasure. As a result, I'm trying to be as low-key as possible: the DMPC doesn't generally speak unless spoken to by one of the PCs (though I do sometimes use him to impart in-game information). He always follows the players' lead, and goes along with whatever plan they've concocted (unless it is something like, "the Cleric takes point and distracts the dragon"). I'm careful to make sure that monsters regularly pick him as a target, but not to the point that the PCs go unchallenged (he got pounded last night, though, and almost died). Finally, I provide treasure for the DMPC at a rate of about 1:2 versus what the PCs get, and it's always something that's obviously for him (healing chainmail, etc). This way the PCs don't feel that they are being "cheated" out of treasure by the DMPC; honestly, I wouldn't give him any loot at all, except that I know that the math assumes some magical assistance as the levels go up.
Mostly I'm trying to treat him as a healbot, present to draw some attacks and keep the 'real' heroes on their feet, and adding the DMPC has allowed me to create more interesting battles and challenges. I'd much prefer to replace him with another player or two, but so far no luck.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
This, to me, was the real start of the game, with a full group newly arrived in Sharn. I decided to drop them right in the deep end with a mystery despite not being entirely certain if that was up the personal alleys of a few of the players involved; a couple of them had merely transferred over from the previous meetup game, a much more straightforward dungeoncrawly affair, and I wasn't sure if investigations would be their thing.
But it was, apparently. Everyone, even the quiet older guy, got really into things and asked me a lot of tough, penetrating questions that I had to scramble to keep on top of. The only combat was right at the end, and I mainly put that there so the new guy could get a feel for the system (which he had; he already played like an old pro). The only downside to the day was the library's cafe was closed for no apparent reason, and we had to head out to a nearby bar instead, only to wait 35 minutes for four hamburgers and then be told by a waitress that they'd be "ready in 15." Ugh. On the upside, the combat was right afterward and people rolled like six critical hits, so maybe growling, irritable hunger is the secret of dice mojo.
The actual game summary:
When they arrived, they were shown to one of the hostel’s many private rooms and introduced to Paradox’s trusted contact, the somewhat earnest Captain Hirsine of the City Watch, and their prospective client, a young half-elven woman and scion of a noble family named Alisee ir’Belanc, whose house had recently been inducted into The Sixty, the register of Sharn’s most elite noble families. The young woman explained that her ne’er-do-well twin brother Cameron ir’Belanc had recently been abducted from the nearby Bazaar by a pack of goblin and half-orc ruffians, possibly at the behest of one of his many creditors, and she needed him safely returned before they were scheduled to accompany their father to the city’s premiere social event, the legendary Tain Gala, in five days.
The agent also introduced them to their new partners on the case: a sorcerous Aundarian inquisitive named Varis ir’Sol and his friend the warforged ranger Three, the two founding (and only) members of The Friendly Griffon Inquisitive Agency. As the two groups began to work the case, there was initially mistrust and suspicion on both sides, but as they divided into three teams to search the crime scene and question witnesses, the investigators quickly developed a working rapport. There were many questions to answer: what had the victim been doing on the night of his disappearance? Who were his creditors? Why had nobody seen him being carried out of the bustling bazaar where he was accosted? And why had his loving sister retained such a motley crew to find him instead of professional manhunters like House Tharashk?
As they worked, the clues led them to a series of startling discoveries: the missing noble scion had kept a shabby private apartment in a bad part of town, and in it the party discovered a shelf full of books on alchemy, and notes about duplicating the process used to refine the illegal drugs known as dragon’s blood and dream lily. An appointment book yielded the names of the Drunken Dragon Bar and a restaurant, Kell’s Stormsign, as well as a contact, “H.D.O.” The team sent to the restaurant discovered that it was a front for a sinister dream lily den, where select patrons disappeared through a secret door into a fantasia of illicit drug use. Meanwhile, the investigators at the Drunken Dragon met Varis’s contact Glosso, a halfling petty criminal and part-time informant, who pointed out that H.D.O. might be a rogue member of House Orien, several of whom were known to frequent the bar.
Finally, the team reassembled to search the crime scene at the bustling Bazaar, and discovered a boarded-up fire escape leading from the market down to the depths of Lower Dura, a bad neighborhood at the grimy base of Sharn’s towers, a place of violence and crime where the sun never reaches even at noon – and the territory of Daask, the mysterious and violent goblin crime syndicate.
Realizing that Daask must have been behind the abduction – possibly due to the young man’s duplication of the secret refining process for dream lily – the party set a trap at one of the mob’s money pickups, hoping to be led back to their hidden lair in Lower Dura. The trap worked better than they could have dreamed, drawing out a powerful tiefling enforcer and his squad of orc bodyguards. In the ensuing battle, the tiefling’s deadly poisoned blade nearly spelled the end of Ty and Varis, but they eventually gained the upper hand, and as the tiefling fled deeper into the sinister ghetto, the heroes gave chase…
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
In an inn whose name escapes me where our travellers did fight and win,
While fire raged about them and fierce beasts kicked down the door,
And dwarves of doubtful parentage were rescued from the floor.
Our champions prevailed and a great victory was won,
Two women killed the most, of course, though weakling men killed some,
And perhaps a shady deal or two was done with gnomish skulks,
But just then right outside the bar bestrode a greenish hulk.
It pulled a cart of firey pitch and bulldozed through the town,
While our wanderers chased after, and tried to bring it down,
Two goblins from the cart it dragged made mischief with their bows,
And the mage who said he was on our side tried to set light to our toes.
The battle raged all through the streets until the beast was felled,
And as the ogre breathed his last a team most fine did meld.
A local man of power watched and found himself impressed,
And invited all to his house, for cakes and a nice rest.
And lo, he told a frightful tale of kidnaps and of stealing,
And offered those before him tons of gold and rings of healing.
The party ummed and ahhed a bit and asked about the small print,
While the gorgeous Deva dug around to find the dwarf a breath mint.
Their task they did accept at last with ringing shouts of 'Yes!',
And prudently left town before being asked about the mess,
Bravely strode our travellers towards the next encounter,
Their minds all set on rolling natural twenties ever after.
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I'm incredibly unenthused with this development, but I guess I gotta give on this one so I don't look like a total control freak. But it's like, why? If you guys just want to hang out, we don't have to play D&D. It's hard enough keeping a game going without a needy person who gives one of my players sex hanging around.
You might also want to find a way of broaching the subject of what happens when the girlfriend gets bored and wants to leave.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
Having her there won't really kill you, though you may be worried about interruptions to the game. Unless you think she's planning on turning up and sneering 'neeeeeeeeeeeerds' at you for four hours while you try and play.
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I actually made it clear that I was uninterested in having any spectators, that it would be detrimental to the game and would me uncomfortable. The player's girlfriend was mentioned specifically several times. It was for this reason I was hosting in my tiny apartment.
When some of the other players offered to host, I asked if it would be an environment where we would be relatively uninterrupted i.e. not having random drop-in spectators, i.e. the player's attention-needy girlfriend. They indicated this would be a non-issue.
Then suddenly, on the evening before the game last week, my brother IMed with what came down to an ultimatum. After some fuming and arguing, he indicated this is something both he and the hosts *wanted* for the game.
Well fine, it's my job to make things fun. If they want someone there, they want someone there. But I can't help but wonder what the point is. I just want to run a game. If everyone just wants to hang around and shit-talk, I'd really rather do something else and they can entertain themselves.
But again, I don't want to seem like a control-freak or some brat who takes his ball home when the game doesn't go his way.
Bogart is right, having her there won't kill me. It's just kinda indicative that everyone wants something different than I want, and I'm not really sure how to reconcile it.
The guy in question is actually my brother. He's had more than few issues with her wanting more of his time than he wants to spare, and previous D&D games have been a central issue there as well.
He says she won't be a significant distraction and that he plans to just ignore her for the duration of the game. But I don't understand why her presence is necessary if everyone is allegedly planning to just play.
I just don't buy it, now that I think about it.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
You're between a rock and a hard place, but she may just sit there quietly and everything will be fine.
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