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War Cry

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About War Cry

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    Naked under my Clothes
  • Birthday 02/12/1972
  1. Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... A gaming quote that stands all on its own. Evil Liche Lord to the only priest/healer in the group while debating religion- "Jump, your god will save you.....................NOT!" End result - nearly a TPK
  2. Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... I'm sorry, but I need to correct this blatantly false statement. I don't ever recall thinking about the consequences until next THURSDAY, at the earliest. And I don't "break in" - it's called stealth by force.
  3. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Off course he does! What murderous dark elf assassin doesn't?
  4. Re: NPC's - one free in every box But if you find it, you will let me know?
  5. Re: NPC's - one free in every box For those of you who have been reading this thread - my apologies for not keeping up with it lately. Been busing working on a game world. Hopefully, this next scum bag can make up for it. Teramis the Reaver, dark elf templar Another hunted, another assassin. Teramis the Reaver was a dark elf assassin, a high-ranking templar of the church who did not trust others with the more important tasks that needed to be done. He lived by the motto “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself”. This was one NPC I feared I might have built a little too efficiently, as he was able to take on any and all comers and walk away without a scratch – most of the time. Tall, regal, and arrogant, Teramis oozed danger wherever he went. Clad in a suit of fine armor of unknown material (worked to look like tiny interwoven skulls with itty bitty rubies for eyes) and armed with a pair of blood-iron swords, Teramis served his patrons with a zeal that bordered on fanatical. He was centuries old, a hero of his people who still stalked the land, eliminating potential threats and the cause of death for countless heroes from ages past. And he and his order had outlived their usefulness. His entire religious order was executed and Teramis alone escaped the purge. Driven to “redeem” himself, the PCs became his target. Actually, one in particular – Night. Most assassins wait and strike when the conditions favored and facilitated a quick and clean kill, but not Teramis. He was good, and he knew it, and he wanted everyone else to know it too. His most arrogant and bold attack happened on a religious holiday. The temple was packed with hundreds, maybe thousands, of worshippers and of course, the PCs (one was a priestess and the others were attending the service out of respect). In the middle of the ceremony, one of the white robed members of the congregation stood up and casually strode forward. I got a few puzzled expressions until the “worshipper” reached the foot of the stairs, pulled a pair of swords out from under his robe, and slashed the throats of the two temple guards blocking his way. Jaws dropped all around as the robe was discarded and a dark elf reaver in full religious gear was revealed. The crowd panicked and mass chaos ensued. A quick and furious battle took place in the holiest of shrines, one dark elf against eight – and the eight got stomped, the holiday ruined, and the temple desecrated as several holy artifacts were either destroyed or stolen. This one fight established his reputation among the players and it was rather comical (for me) to see them sweat whenever they even suspected he was anywhere around or heard of Teramis killing some other great warrior or hero. It got to the point where one player requested a solo adventure to deal with Teramis on his own. It’s my own fault, really. I think having the severed head of his wife-to-be delivered to his room – along with a scroll with a very detailed account of how slow and terrible her death was - may have pushed him over the edge. It took a few solos, but Night relentless followed Teramis north and caught up with the reaver at a temple of Kharlithi, a dark elf god of intrigue and deceit. Outclassed and outmatched, Night still made one epic struggle of it. It was truly awesome watching the player’s hands literally shake every time he reached for his dice. It was a great fight full of great role-playing as tapestries, benches, candelabras, and many other items were used as weapons and distractions. Both were hurt pretty badly when I pulled a nifty surprise move for the dark elf I had forgotten he had. He faked a blow at Night’s throat, forcing him to duck. The dark elf leapt into the air, over the feline, and landed behind him, swinging his blade to deliver the killing blow. The only reaction I got was an evil smile. The player also had a move he had bee saving, and this gave him an opportunity to use it. After a dex vs. dex roll off, Teramis ended up with a pair of short swords embedded in his sides. “Well done, my friend,” choked Teramis through the blood and pain. “I have but one request of my killer. Deliver my head to my wife.” Edit: I'm curious if anyone is getting any use out of these, or am I just talking to myself - again?
  6. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Wow. I have your wiki bookmarked. Kinda weird seeing some of my stuff there now. I am truly flattered that you think its worthy. OT, I really like the work on the runes. It has been a very big help in getting my campaign and magic fleshed out. I stole, er, borrowed, the entire document unchanged as a possible player handout for runic magic - it was exactly what I was looking for. Hope thats ok. If not, let me know.
  7. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Hey Enforcer 84! Those are two awesome characters. Once I get my game up and running, I am sooooo stealing the "innocent" hottie. she won't exaxtly fit in my game world as is, but I can work her in - if you're kewl with it, of course. Archie rawks too. Isn't it odd how players dig the focus and attention, even if it is someone out to get them? Thanx for the contributions.
  8. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Grub and Stinky – peas in a pod Probably the most loved - and comical - NPCs from this campaign. The game was getting dark and depressing, so I interjected these two clowns to lighten the mood. They were a pair of goblins who were the best of friends. They were so inseparable that when one rose to power, the other only naturally followed suit. Their names pretty much were their defining features. Grub was always digging under rocks or pulling a worm out of his “yum-yum” pouch and Stinky, well, you had to make some rolls to stay in his presence for longer than 5 minutes, he was that ripe. Both of them always carried a sack of “Magic Sleeping Powder” (salt). Mentally, the two of them combined had the IQ of a gnat, and a dead one at that. I just ran them with an innocent and childlike mentality with a very dangerous bit of cunning thrown in. The first encounter with the dastardly duo was at the ruins of an old and abandoned fortress, the last remnants of a ruined city from ages past. The PCs were following some leads and believed the ruins to hold a vast amount of treasure buried deep within its vaults, full of magical weapons, armor, and various other weapons. A nasty storm hurried the group on their way, and they were soon sheltering in the ruined gatehouse. Enter the “Greatest Mostest Sneakum Goblin Scout Bashiest Warrior Guys”, Grub and Stinky. Turning themselves invisible by covering their eyes with their hands, the two crept up to the party; counting aloud how many steps it would take to reach them. “One, eleventeen, six, rook to b-4, seven! ‘Kay Stinky, I’m gonna chop of pointy man’s head! Um, scuse me, can I have that?” Grub is pointing at the sword in the warrior’s hand. Needless to say, their plan did not work. They were further disappointed when the PCs would not let them stay and eat, er, guard the horses. Throwing salt on the pack animals while singing "Go to sleep, horsey, go to sleep" didn't help their argument much. The two soon had the bright idea of introducing the group to King Grobbo, Lord of the Refuse. The PCs began the dangerous quest into the bowels of the ruins to retrieve the great treasure and slay a mighty monster the goblins called “The Evil Snuffawhump”, with Grub and Stinky being their guides, as these two are obviously the greatest scouts and warriors in all of goblinkind. The two little buggers led continual chants of “Chief Grobbo Great! Chief Grobbo Great!” every five minutes, making stealth impossible. The fight with the Snuffawhump was an embarrassment to the PCs and they left the ruined fortress vowing revenge. It did not take long. A few weeks after this debacle they met up with a young dragon, Puck, who was searching for a hoard of his own. The sly PCs gave Puck directions to the lair of the goblins, planning to return and slay Puck after he had killed all the goblins and amassed the treasure in a central location. Grub and Stinky greeted Puck, and the duo immediately saw an opportunity. Flattering Puck as the “Great Dragon Sky God”, they led him to their king, chanting “Chief Grobbo Tastes Great! Chief Grobbo Tastes Great!” And so began their meteoric rise to power, backed by a juvenile dragon. Yup, I'm an a$$. The final encounter with these two was at the Last Battle. The Dead Gods had besieged the last refuge of good, and taken the outer defenses. As they were preparing for their final assault, a vast army crested the ridge. Thousands upon thousands of goblins had shown up under the banner of Chief Grub and Magic Guy Stinky, all now worshippers of the Great Dragon Sky God, Puck. With the aid of their “god”, the goblin host was able to fight its way to the dwarven fortress. With more pressing matters at hand, the dwarves set aside their age-old grudge. Besides, the goblin army was armed with magical weapons, armor, and devices from the hoard of their dragon-god, not to mention numbered in the thousands. Armed now with the Flying Chopping Thingy, Grub was a minor force to be reckoned with. The sword was animate and intelligent, whizzing about the battlefield separating heads from their shoulders, with a poor goblin clutching the hilt for dear life and screaming like a little girl. Armed with the powerful Boom Stick, Stinky was chucking lightning bolts left and right, cackling like a little kid with a bucket of high explosives. He had been denied the opportunity to make the gates bigger with his Boom Stick, so this was make-up fun for him. Grub would fall in battle, and his death so enraged Puck that the dragon slew one of the Dead Gods before he himself fell. Through tears and sobs, Stinky leveled the Dead God Limbhacker’s entire army. With his bestest friend and god gone, Stinky led the Goblin host away as quickly as they has come, marching over the corpses of the army they had just slaughtered.
  9. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Narglok the Black, Orc Warlord A fun villain NPC for as long as he lasted. Narglok the Black was a captain of the Dead God Bonecrusher, charged with eliminating the meddlesome PC’s. Big, strong, and with an intelligence on par with many great generals, Narglok was a force to be reckoned with. It’s amazing what you can do with a basic orc write-up just by adding a little bit to intelligence, a decent tactics roll and loyal followers. He was the first major villain they encountered, leading the assault on a city in the first adventure of the campaign. Tired of watching countless orcs die in frontal assaults that lasted for over a day, he casually killed the army general and took command. Within hours the walls were breached and the orcs were taking the city. His own orders were to retrieve an artifact, and so he led his personal bodyguard through the city with singular determination, bent on his goal, which he achieved. His exit from the city was somewhat hampered by the PC’s, and he lost an eye. The PCs would later make a risky and daring raid and steal this artifact from the orcs, and so would begin the pursuit of Narglok. With only a dozen warriors at his side, this was one bad orc. His second was a wiry orc warrior with a few martial arts and his advisor was a shaman, the rest were plain old as-is orcs. The first fight with Narglok and his war band scared the PC’s senseless. Coordinating the orcs in his command, Narglok stomped the group into the ground with brutal efficiency, leaving one of the PC’s dead, two NPCs dead, and the rest either unconscious or so beat up they couldn’t fight any more, at the cost of only two of his orcs. Narglok took back the item stolen from him, stopping long enough to sneer over the bloody PC’s. “Heroes? The halfling I had for lunch yesterday put up a better fight than this. You are not worthy of a sword arm.” CHOP! And off comes a characters hand. They would tangle again, and most of those fights would end as draws that would cost the PCs horses, gear, and other things. It was a small war of attrition, Naglok wearing them down and costing them both valuable time and equipment, always lamenting the fact that he was charged with dealing with a bunch of second-rate wannabe heroes, when he could be engaged in glorious warfare, burning cities and slaughtering hundreds of the soft manlings. The table was turned on Naglok, one night however, when one of his ambushes went horribly wrong and the party was able to capitalize on the orc warlord’s misfortune. Another PC was slain as was another NPC, but most of the orcs were cut down. With his back against the wall and his two lieutenants dead, Narglok issued a challenge to the paladin. Both sides backed off as the two squared off. The dice were not kind to the paladin and very hot for the orc, and though both were beat up pretty bad, the PC was soon on the ground, bleeding profusely from numerous wounds. Raising his mace to deliver the deathblow, Narglok jerked and looked down to see a sword point sticking out of his chest. The character that had lost a hand earlier had buried his sword in the orc warlord’s back. Cursing them roundly for their lack of honor by interfering in a duel, Narglok perished. And he would return as a wraith, his spirit bent on vengeance. They were terrified of this guy alive, I just had to see how they would react if I brought him back as the undead.
  10. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Headley Bumbleweed – the wizard that wasn’t A strange NPC that grew out of absolutely nothing into something, well, not much really. Somewhere along the line, a couple of PCs ending up getting tossed in jail/dungeon overnight for a minor infraction. Not content with letting it go, the group dwelt on the incarcerated pair and I had to ad-lib. I threw some nobody in the cell with them, also for a minor offense. Tall, gangly, with long hair held back by a headband and a patch of scrubby stubble on the chin in a poor attempt to grow a proper beard, Headly Bumbleweed was introduced to the game. Inept does not describe this guy well enough. He had zilch for skills and I ran him as a brain dead stoner, even went so far as to actually make him one. Poor Headley Bumbleweed was a wizard, or I should say, an Illusionist, but with a slight problem. He was addicted to his spell ingredients. When the duo was released, so was Headley, and they invited him to tag along because they could “always use another powerful spellcaster”. Hoo boy. The misadventures with this schmuck were numerous. He poisoned the entire group one night when they let him tend the cooking pot. Always in an experimental mood, Headley dropped some ‘shrooms into the stew. “But, they were like, such a groovy purple, man.” Every time something important (or even unimportant) came up, Headley would chime in with his own such experience. “Like, Wow man. This reminds me of the time I had to fight some midget orcs over at Sword’s Point. Man, that was sooooo bogus. I turned ‘em into flying pigs, though. That was totally groovy, man”. His magic was completely unreliable, but potent if he hadn’t already consumed the needed spell components. “Like you know, man, I could so totally own that dragon right now. I’ve got a groovy spell that can kick his blue and yellow butt.” “Headley, he’s red. And it’s not a dragon. It’s a salamander.” “Oh. Right. Yeah man! I can so totally own his furry butt!” “Headley, its – by the gods! You’re wasted! Um, what about a spell right now?” “Sorry man. I smoked it last night.” Typical exchange with Headley when a fight was about to go down. Totally useless, but rather entertaining, for me at least.
  11. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Tarkan the butcher A fun NPC who was made out to be more than he really was. According to the history that the players had, Tarkan Dar’Arvudius was a dark elf noble whose propensity for cruelty and evil knew no bounds. He led the Dark Elves to war on the Flatlanders over 500 years ago, laying waste to entire towns and populations. He was fickle, sparing one town because of the majestic beauty of the red banners flying over the buildings and slaughtering every man, woman, child, and beast in another and burning it to the ground because it blocked his view of a sunset. He was unpredictable, at best. He earned the title “The Butcher of Green Fields” after his army thoroughly defeated a host twice the size of his own. Disappointed at such a lopsided victory, he ordered the execution of every third man in his own army – including his eldest son and youngest daughter – and left those corpses to rot on the fields alongside the enemy. This proved to be the undoing of the historical Tarkan, as the dwarves had heard of his vile deeds and amassed an army of their own to meet him. Tarkan’s army was crushed and the general himself captured. Enter the PCs 500 years later as travelers and guest of the dwarven north kingdom. They had been led to believe that in his conquest of the northlands centuries ago, Tarkan had captured a relic of the Dead Gods and secreted it away before his own capture. Their intent was to negotiate with the dwarven king for some time to talk with Tarkan in the dungeons in an effort to learn his secret. Things did not go as planned, as the PC’s soon found themselves embroiled in a murder mystery that involved a number of dwarves going insane. A major blunder by a PC ended up getting the poor character tossed in the dungeons, in the same cell as Tarkan – now himself nothing more than crazy nutjob from centuries of isolation. The rest of the PCs manage to rescue their comrade and escape with Tarkan in tow. Only it wasn’t Tarkan. He had been dead for over 200 years and the poor sap they were dragging along with them was a crazy mage who was locked up in the cell next to the “original”. This guy was so far gone that he honestly believed he was Tarkan the Butcher, and did weird and crazy things to prove it. During the escape from the dwarven dungeons, he stopped long enough to attempt to eat an unconscious dwarf. (He was stopped). The PC’s learned very quickly that “Tarkan” needed to be restrained, as on more than one occasion he had tried to stab someone with a knife he had stolen or would go “Hannibal Lectre” on them. IIRC, a PC lost an ear to this. He would often ramble about his glorious past and grand conquests, saying the most bizarre and cryptic things I could imagine, and the players would sit there, scribbling notes furiously, hoping not to miss any clues. Somehow they managed to find the artifact (giving credit to their clever interpretation of the imposter’s clues). It was at this point that someone finally noticed that the Tarkan they had been dragging along for days wasn’t the real thing – he wasn’t even an elf, but a human. The poor lunatic was killed in the night by a PC assassin and the body buried. What followed was one of those “Huh?” moments. For some reason, the PC panicked and tried to cover his deed – by stealing a plow from a nearby farm (they were in a village) and plowing the ground where he hid the corpse. Hearing the noise, some of the other PCs woke up and went to investigate. I couldn’t have planned for what happened next, only roll with it. The assassin then cooks up some story about this area being an ancient battlefield and that the bodies had been left here, still clad in their armor and valuables and he was using the plow in an attempt to turn up bodies so he could find any magical items or weapons that had been left. They bought it. Now I had a bunch of PCs going around the village, waking up farmers and giving them gold to borrow their horses and plows. The ENTIRE party was now plowing the area looking for treasure. Hell, I might as well go with it. The farmers were only too happy to let the PCs plow the fields, providing they didn’t damage any already existing crops. This craziness went on for two weeks. I had some pity on them (or maybe I threw a few more logs on the fire) and let them find a handful of minor valuables, but nothing magical. Hey, they so wanted an ancient battlefield; I finally caved and played along.
  12. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Yes. Yes I do. I've already seen a couple ideas in here that I would have never thought of on my own. It would be cool to see what other people have done. Side Note - Is that your Western Shore campaign in the Hero-Wiki? I really dig the Norse angle.
  13. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Bartamus – enchanter of the 4th circle Bartamus was introduced as an “info dump”, an NPC with knowledge about certain people and events that could prove beneficial to the group. The NPC itself was rather useless as far as skills go. He was an enchanter, but a weak one. His specialty however, did put him in a position of relative power. His job was to repair and keep the golems that guarded the Wizard’s Isle in working order, particularly the iron golems. As these were hollow, Bartamus would work his magic on the inside of the magical machines so as to better preserve and protect the arcane inscriptions that made these beings possible. He had the fortune/misfortune of being inside model Obsidian 16 when the Archmage Kalifirius assassinated the wizard’s council and proceeded to purge the islands of those who had not sworn themselves to him and his cause. Staying inside the golem and desperately clutching the “owners manual” Bartamus made good his escape from the island. Bartamus had spent most of his life on the island, working on his charges, so had little experience or contact with the outside world. He was very short, often mistaken for a gnome, bespectacled, and bald save for a wispy ring of white hair and a short beard. He was always very cheerful, polite, and just a little bit intimidated by others. Whenever he saw someone whom he recognized and had shown him some kindness (all you had to do was talk to him) he would frantically wave and jump up and down until he got their attention. He would then walk up, shake hands, say “HI!” and walk away about his business. One would think that walking around inside a huge iron golem with arms that terminated in massive maces would make him formidable in a fight. Not so. Bartamus couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn, and on those rare occasions where a blow did land (only two or three times), he would flip open the golem’s faceplate, poke his head out, and apologize profusely and once even went so far as to try to render first aid to the dark elf he had just pulverized – while everyone around him was fighting for their life. He was one of the NPCs who happened to be the target of the affections of Pagan Oldcastle, and when he returned to the PCs he was nothing but bruises and smiles. Hey, he was an 80-year-old virgin until then.
  14. Re: NPC's - one free in every box Spittlefang, the filth assassin - hunted Spittlefang was the collaboration of myself and the player who had him as his hunted. He was a skaven (ratman) assassin who had been sent out to murder one of his own, the PC Slashtooth, a skaven assassin who was fascinated by the man-things and their world above the skaven Under Empire and trying to fit in to this “new” world. Clad in tattered and dirty rags over which he wore a billowing and ragged cloak, Spittlefang was a grotesque creature with matted brown fur and broken yellow fangs bared in a perpetual sneer. He was vile and evil to the extreme, killing randomly to spread fear and terror wherever he went. He had numerous blades hidden about himself and many were poisoned. His favorite weapon was a short sword he had taken off a mighty hero he had slain some years before and this was his only possession that was kept immaculate. It was not enough for Spittlefang to just kill his target. He had to let his victims know who was coming after them and that death would be slow and painful. It was important for him to taunt and instill fear before he attacked. Something as simple as a visit in the dead of night and a softly spoken “I smell your fear” was enough to get the message across. His favorite trick was to kill and eat a human child and leave the corpse where the group could find it – an omen that he was about to strike. He was fully capable of taking on the entire group, but only did so once to illustrate the point that there was little they could do to stop him. He carved them up pretty bad using hit and run tactics, leaving all but Slashtooth a bloody mess in dire need of a cure for the poison running through their veins. This left Slashtooth with the fun choice of fighting Spittlefang or letting his nemesis go so he could get help for his friends. There were numerous fights between the two ratman and all were awesome to play and watch. The drama and hatred between these two characters was enjoyable for the whole group. Most of the fights had both Slashtooth and Spittlefang beaten to a bloody pulp, with Spittlefang holding the advantage. Usually the timely arrival of the rest of the party saved Slashtooth’s life. The two combats that did go heavily in favor of Slashtooth, Spittlefang managed to escape with the use of magic, creating a cloud of smoke to facilitate his getaway. The facial expressions on the players’ faces were priceless when they knew Slashtooth was involved in a scenario. Eyes would pop out of skulls, jaws would drop, and sweat would bead up on their foreheads as they furiously planned on how to deal with him. I must be sadistic, cuz I loved seeing them like that. Most of the time, he never made a direct appearance, only leaving a token of his presence to remind them that he was always nearby. Usually these tokens were a mutilated animal left in the path, one of his numerous poisoned daggers stuck in a tree, or a whisper in the night – “I own the dark”. Spittlefang however, was finally slain by Slashtooth in one of the most exciting one-on-one fights I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of. The fight raged back and forth as the two traded blows, pulling out all the stops. Both made maximum use of their surroundings, employing furniture, tapestries, and mundane pieces of equipment as impromptu distractions and weapons. Broken and bloody, Slashtooth was finally knocked to the ground and disarmed by his hated foe. Sensing victory, Spittlefang wound up for a haymaker to cleave Slashtooth’s head from his shoulders. Here the player pulled his final trick, using his tail to draw a sword he never used but kept hidden under his cloak and strapped to his back. With one blow, Spittlefang was dropped, his severed head still cackling with mad laughter at the anticipation of a blow that would never land.
  15. Re: NPC's - one free in every box
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