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Rolemaster Moments for May 2002 - page 1
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Our party was scouting out an area to determine whether or not an army was building to march against nearby cities. The terrain was hilly, with sparse patches of trees and little or no grass. My character was a ranger, fair with a bow, pretty bad in close quarters combat. Earlier in the week, the GM had pulled me aside and explained that my character had had a vision, and that a great sacrifice was going to be made on my part so that the party could live. Great.
As we're making our way across a valley floor, my keen elven eyesight picks up a spot on the sun that is growing larger, obviously something flying in our general direction. About halfway up each hill that flanks the valley is a copse of evergreens, so the group picks one and runs for it, diving under the low branches for cover. Our dwarf (of course, it WOULD be the dwarf) fails his hiding roll and simply sticks the top half of his body under the tree, his legs sticking out. As the rest of us notice the error and pull him to safety, the bottom of his mail shirt and metal leg greaves catch just enough light to catch the attention of the thing overhead. It lands with a thump and horrible stench, then makes its way toward our party, sniffing the air. A fell beast. It just gets better.
Realizing this is the sacrifice I'm probably supposed to make, my ranger scratches in the dirt two trees, then some "X" marks to show my plan to everyone else: I'm going to run to the top of the hill to attract attention, and they will run to the trees on the other side of the valley. The beast is knocking down trees trying to root us out, so there's no time for discussion. I sprint as fast as I can, screaming at the top of my lungs. I figure I can run for about two rounds, turn and fire, then I'm a goner. With a great movement roll, I nearly crest the hill before I turn and look back down. The beast is lumbering after me, but the others are being stupid and think they'll attack from the rear. To give them the best opportunity, I continue with the plan and prepare my shot.
The mage casts a light spell as a distraction and nearly fumbles, but manages to get the light to flash in front of the beast's eyes (giving me another round to live). I release my shot and roll open ended THREE TIMES!! Figuring in my OB, my roll is over 400 -- maximum damage! Roll for 'E' crit: 100! The arrow goes straight through the eye and kills the monster instantly. I'm saved!! However.... remember how the trees are on the hillside? And I ran up the hill? And they moved in behind the beast...? Each of the other members is forced to make an absurd movement roll to avoid the huge carcass tumbling down the hill on top of them. No one makes it, but luckily no one dies. Lots of crush criticals were handed out that day, and the only one without a scratch is the elf who would have sacrificed himself.
Our DM had been running an adventure a few years ago named Bracia. It was an AD&D adventure transferred to Middle-earth. The adventure, long and tedious, took 5 years normal time for 2 weeks of game time.
The adventure was nearing the end. In this hack and slash adventure over 40 characters were killed and the highest level character was a 50th lvl nightblade. Captain Bowen, the leader of the group had conquered almost all. They found a magical boat and decided to travel down one of the many waterways of Bracia. They then found the rumored island where a dragon was guarding its valuable horde.
To make a long story short--the mighty nightblade Loth (Flower!) rolled 3 open enders on the hit and 3 open enders also with an open ended crit. They both fall to the ground dead. After all this they gather the treasure into the boat. They sailed off to see what they had found. Ledlewyn a mighty Elven animist, finds a scroll and opens it. The DM says "where would you like to drop the parchment?". Ledlewyn says "tip it onto the floor". Little did he know that it was a scroll trapped with acid. It ate through the bottom of the boat and sunk it. With all their lovely treasure going to the bottom of the waterway.
This is the story of a halfling named Shortshit. I was feeling just a bit mischievous when I created that character:) This halfling was a spear wielding berzerker with a superiority complex. He refused to back down and would always pick a fight. The strange thing is that 90% of the time his first attack would be fatal.
For example, at first level he was traveling through a peaceful forest when he was suddenly approached by a large hungry brown bear. Not wanting to give up his food and run away he chose to fight it out by jumping into the air and jabbing at the bear with his diminutive spear. Sure enough the spear punctured the bear through one ear and out the other.
Traveling through the forest he arrived at the capital of the province he was in. This capital had a somewhat common form of punishment for its criminals. It would throw them into an arena and have them act as gladiators for the amusement of the masses. Probably sounds familiar . They would do things like kill each other and monsters, attempt absurd maneuvers or just plain act insane to hopefully win their freedom. Shortshit upon seeing this spectacle decided then and there he had to get in on the action. He leapt into the arena from the stands and started attacking everyone in sight. He killed or severely wounded three of the gladiators in the first 5 rounds of battle. That is when the ruler gained control again and called a cease fire.
When he was asked why he did it he said in somewhat colorful language that he could not stand to see these inferior specimens trying to act like real warriors. He also said that he could out fight anything they could throw at him. The ruler decided to take him up on his offer. He willingly accepted the rulers command that he would fight 3 times. If he won all the matches he would be rewarded with 10000 sp and his choice of an enchanted weapon.
The first match was a war troll. It went a couple of rounds until the inevitable 96 followed by I think a 50 something bore a killing blow in the "E" critical. A level was gained after the war troll to bring him to level 3.
The next monster to appear was amazingly a three-headed hydra. I was kind of upset with Tony (my GM) over this one:) Lo and behold though again he prevailed with a killing blow. The sheer bonus XP from the kill and the crits to it and Shortshit multiplied by 5 for first time encountered ensured another level to 4.
In between battles he was allowed to heal. The hydra left him pretty hurt but the healers soon remedied that.
I do not know why Tony chose this again but the third monster was another large bear. This one proved to be a little harder then the other one was. The first round the bear got initiative and landed a heavy blow to his leg breaking it and stunning him. Somehow he kept the bear at bay by parrying at half his OB until the stun wore off. The bear fumbled and ended up stunning himself at one point right before shortshits own stun wore off. When shortshits stun wore off I attacked with his full ob minus about 40 but plus the 20 for the bears stun and rolled up yet again. By this time Tony was swearing I was somehow loading the dice:) The bear suffered organ damage and expired as I recall.
Shortshit was heralded as a psychotic hero for a day, given his money and ended up enchanting his spear with a few nice tid-bits. Alas it would all be for naught. I decided that maybe he was pushing his luck a bit and decided to team up with the conventional cleric, thief, wizard party in this city and head out for more traditional adventures. Traveling through the same forest as before we were set upon by some greater orcs. Shortshit took an arrow in the eye and that ended his reign of terror.
This event occurred many years ago real time and even longer ago game time in a world that is no longer actively played and where many of the surviving characters have become legend or myth in the latest Age.
I, Varnix, a mere fifth level Cleric in the Elemental Orders (long before my Awakening to the fact that Fire was the one True Element supreme above all others) and my party were questing for the Artifacts of the Ancients-- Mythical objects that would grant us the power to help thwart the coming Evil. The Ancients were wise and impartial, and they always constructed two versions of each of their Artifacts--one aligned with "good" and the other with "evil". And when one Artifact was chosen the opposing one would cease to be and the wielder of the artifact would be forever changed depending on their choice.
Our enemies had already completed their quest for their objects, but we still had one last item to seek. All of us but the Arms Master of our group had selected their objects -- and selected wisely for none of us had turned against our cause.
Now, as most people know the Arms Master, while being a Master of weapons he isn't exactly the sharpest sword in the rack. He was presented with two identical weapons--one shining with the purity of the cleanest of the flame, the other pulsing with most foreboding black. We encouraged him to take the white and shining artifact as we had all done, but he was not convinced. Instead he grabbed BOTH artifacts at once -- equal amounts of "good" and "evil" powers coursed through his body.
The result was... quite spectacularly both weapons were destroyed in an instant and the party was covered in a fine layer of goo and we were down one Arms Master.
No great loss in the greater scheme of things, although the Arms Master's player didn't see it quite that way.
A party of adventurers were fighting their way through an evil temple and were in the process of clearing out the "hidden chambers" of the evil cleric. The party was lead by a paladin, about 8th level. As usual, there was a fair mix of characters in the party, including a healer, a mage and a couple of others. The party also had an NPC noble, Sir Marbury, with them, once a hero, now fairly worn down. He was with the party because he knew who was evil in the land and where they were hidden. This knowledge was important since most of the PC's were new to this land.
The party moved quickly through the underground area, killing the low level clerics and guards. Then they heard chanting and smelled incense. The paladin rushed forward, leaving the rest of the party down the passage. He entered the chamber to find the evil cleric at the edge of a summoning circle, arms raised with smoke slowly forming in the circle. Not being one to waste time, the Paladin yelled to the cleric and as the cleric turned, he smote him with a mighty blow. The critical was a kill (I hate that when my monsters die so easily.) As the cleric dropped, a demon formed in the smoke. "Who has called me forth to kill this night." The Paladin seeing that this could be an advantage (he would not have to fight a powerful looking demon by himself.) "I have called you forth," said the Paladin. The demon asked the paladin who he wished killed. "I would have you kill..." The Paladin didn't know who to kill, so he looks behind him quickly and sees Sir Marbury. "Sir Marbury...?" starts the Paladin. "Sir Marbury it is!" replies the demon. Realizing his mistake, the Paladin jumps in front of the demon as it starts for Sir Marbury.
The look of panic on the player's face, as the demon said, "Sir Marbury it is!" was fantastic. The other players still goad him about that almost tragic lapse. The Paladin did defeat the demon, but he cost the party most of the healer's power points for the day. They had to leave the temple without getting the chance to fully loot (not that the Paladin was worried about that).
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