So, the Monday game has been a mess. First, our DM decided to "take time off" from the game for a couple of weeks so he could play Mass Effect 2. I won't rant and rave about it here, but I do think that was pretty weak. I stepped up and was going to run the Storm Tower adventure that Wil Wheaton, Scott Kurtz, Jerry (Tycho from Penny Arcade), and Mike (Gabe from Penny Arcade) played in the second series of podcasts. I made up a slew (seriously, like 14 of them) of interesting pregen characters, complete with personalities, backgrounds, and physical descriptions.
So I'm running an Eberron game on Fridays now, alternating "story arcs" with the other DM, who probably needed a break. And I hadn't run a game in years, so I volunteered. It's been fun. I've run two sessions and I have one more before I hand things back off to the other DM and take up my Dwarf Warden again. I had an entire shared background for the PCs, namely that they fought together for Breland during the Last War, but there's a curious amount of time that they can't recall right around the time of the Mourning. Yes, I took this idea from one of Keith Baker's novel trilogies.
Having destroyed the zombie swarm and gargoyles outside the tower, we pushed our way inside. I have to admit that I didn't quite expect to find what we did. Cages for creatures as small as a dog all the way up to those which could probably hold an ogre. Several tables with restraints, likely used for dissection, if I'm not mistaken. Nearly every surface in the room was coated with dried blood or worse. Splashes of it went high up the walls and even could be found on the ceiling, disturbingly enough. A plaque was found which declared that in three languages this room was the Vivesctorum.
Our holiday game for my Saturday (now Friday) D&D game was... unusual. A hell of a lot of fun, but not your usual D&D. By any stretch of the imagination. I was, thankfully, live Tweeting the game as it happened. I want to ensure that it doesn't get lost in the jumble of Twitter and I can always find it. So I'm going to post it here. It may amuse other people as well (if they read it) so even better. Some context first.
During the game last night, based on ideas from the wizard and bard, I came up with this ritual. Most of the mechanics are mine, but the GM from both my Monday game and the Friday game have tweaked it so as to be acceptable to them. I honestly don't think that this will get a lot of wide spread use though. In fact, I think a lot of people would be quick to criticize this ritual and point out that it goes against a lot of what 4e rituals are about. I'll save further commentary until after I post the ritual itself, however.
While we tended our wounds and caught our breath, I decided to wander the town square and investigate the zombie corpses for signs of anything unusual. I had not honestly expected to find much, but Ioun blessed me with something anyway. Many of the zombies had been... tattooed with a peculiar mark. Most interesting was that the mark seemed to have been made post-mortem. Enough searching turned up a zombie whose mark was very nearly pristine which allowed for me to make out more details than on the more decayed specimens.
My efforts to learn more about what caused this situation were maddeningly unsuccessful. It seems that we have likely killed all those who knew the truth. The survivors could only tell me that the change happened a couple of years ago far to the north. All the men except for the animal caretaker just came back changed. However, I did uncover one interesting bit of information, thank Ioun. The travelers had not come from the east as we'd been told.
I haven't updated here in a fair while. It's not because I lost interest or anything (though I'm not sure how much interest there is in what I'm posting), but because there hasn't been a lot of gaming to post about. I haven't taken pictures at most of my recent games, though I hope to start again with this Saturday's D&D game. I just posted the journal for sessions #9 of my Monday D&D game. It's just been a few weeks since we'd last played on Monday. Hopefully we'll get back to regularly playing again.
After meeting Captain Oldson, we returned to the Crow Feather Inn. Terai motioned us over as soon as we entered, looking upset. She said that she'd received news the day before about the son of one of her friends. She hadn't mentioned it because we were clearly still dealing with the goblin situation, but she could let it wait no longer. Her friend's son Inan is (or perhaps was, at this point) was a Crow Feather like we are. He had traveled to the northwest with his companions to explore the ruins of a supposedly-cursed town called Bellflower.