The Ballad of Fat Harold

Harold was born to a family of wealthy donkey breeders in the market town of Red River. The first twelve or so years of Harold’s life were opulent and comfortable. Harold’s lack of intelligence and ability of any kind were compensated for by his family’s riches. Lacking any drive or life plans, Harold had assumed that he would simply become a useless fop in a city somewhere, representing the family interest whilst surrounded with wine, women and song. Unfortunately for Harold, Trader County (his state of origin) was to become the battleground for one of the most vicious commercial conflicts the Wretched Earth had ever seen. The Arcane Donkey Wars were about to begin…

Trader County was a logistic hub for merchants travelling all over the Western part of the Wretched Earth, and especially to the ports that linked to the island nations. To this end, a constant supply of beasts of burden was continually in demand. Harold’s family had been in business supplying donkeys for over two hundred years and had a reputation for always being able to deliver the hardiest animals that could be worked for years of back-breaking toil. This all changed when Ro-Alum, a hotshot young wizard was contracted by the rival Packart family of breeders to magically crossbreed a newer, stronger animal. After a few unspeakable blasphemies against nature, Ro-Alum came up with what was christened the “Packart Mk VII”. The new donkey, although rather stupid looking could carry 50% more cargo, required less food and could be made into a delicious meal when they finally collapsed from exhaustion. In response, DonCo, another group of breeders contracted Delecti the Necromancer to come up with a competing solution. Whole herds of donkeys were slain and raised to make the “DonCo Frontiersman Undead Pack Animal” which whilst more expensive, required no food or water, and was immune to fatigue, disease and followed orders unquestioningly.

A bitter war for the marketplace ensued, with Harold’s family – convinced that they could prevail using traditional (non-magical) donkey breeding methods – being squeezed from both sides until their business collapsed. The Arcane Donkey Wars ended a few years later, but it was too late for Harold.

Thrust rudely into poverty, and with no marketable skills, Harold had some bad times, but clung to his dream of being a rich waster. The traditional method of achieving this and climbing out of poverty has always been adventuring – but Harold was palpably unsuited for Fighter or Ranger school, too dumb (and poor) for Magic University, and too coarse for the seminary. He tried his hand at joining the Thieves’ Guild, but his large size made him a poor rogue, and his aversion to physical exertion was the nail in the coffin.

Harold’s lucky break finally came whilst selling souvenirs at a small tourist town on the coast. The village had a dragon problem with raiding marine dragons swooping past to gobble up holiday makers at the seaside. A hippogriff-riding party of high level NPCs took up the task of ridding the town of the beasts, and engaged the dragons in an aerial battle. One of the dragons, stuck with a fatal blow, and burning with several arcane wounds, spiralled out of the sky and landed on Harold’s souvenir stand, crushing Harold. Both badly wounded, the dragon’s blood intermingled with Harold’s, and imbued him with the sorcererous abilities he now enjoys.

In his early days as a sorcerer, Harold used his powers almost exclusively for petty personal gain. Over the years, he has grown as an individual and learned much about his powers. As such, Harold now utilises his gifts for grotesque and enormous personal gain. Early on as a young low-level 3rd edition sorcerer, Harold was part of a classic D&D party providing fire support. As always, health was at a premium and following the loss of several party colleagues, Harold switched to a less bold and more cautious party. Over the years, Harold has seen editions and parties come and go and with the advent of 4e has found a niche as a mercenary make-weight in higher level parties. Up until 8th level he wasn't able to command particularly good fees - only taking on petty delves for a few encounters at a time; but as he has neared paragon level, he tagged on to the powerful and pragmatic Dog Leg Posse. Although the quests have been more dangerous than he would have liked, the rewards have been great, and Harold is only marginally short of his paragon goal. Following that, he may look to retirement as a minor dictator in a small tropical island.



Note: Despite his ultimate fate possibly being sealed, I'm now intending to use low-level versions of Harold as my main PC.

Thelonius Monk Special

Courtesy Phil Vigus

Excerpt from the journal of Thelonius Caine…
I write after the strangest of days, with my time alternating between episodes of pure frustration, and challenging combat with the most hideous, unearthly creatures. Although we may have disturbed the spirits of the long dead, I have no guilt in our actions and feel that they are finally at peace. I still find myself saddened by people’s willingness to believe in the need for such ornate yet pointless structures to house their empty husks, and hope that when their souls moved on to inhabit their next bodies they were able to learn the error of their ways.

The adventuring group that have hired me are a little…..unorthodox, but they appear to be able to get the job done. However, they have yet to fully convince me they are worthy of the reputation that precedes them, and I will continue to watch in case any are scheming against me. I have however been paid handsomely for my efforts and this should go some way to helping improve my equipment, some of which is desperately in need of replacement. If I am to fulfil my destiny then I must strive to be as strong as I can be, and I have heard rumour of the most fantastical magical armour and weaponry, which I am sure one day will be within my reach.

With each day I become more convinced that I have chosen the path I was born to walk. Everywhere I look I see the scheming of vultures, preying on those who cannot or will not defend themselves, and I know that I was sent to help them. Unfortunately, I am sure that my actions are attracting much unwanted attention, and I must be ever vigilant in watching my back.

I hope one day that I will be strong enough to return to the monastery and prove that the accusations made against me were fabrications, dreamt up by those who saw that I was willing to fight back, but I feel I must bide my time and make sure that when I make my move I can drive them away once and for all.

Spotlight on the Morgan Sisters

Courtesy of Bjorn



Mort Morgan had a dream: set up a thriving potion workshop in a big city, become rich, pass on the business to his sons. Unfortunately, he was a terrible artificer, so he had to set up shop in Dog Leg (killing the first two goals in one sweep), and his wife died giving birth to a daughter, Bayve, so over his misogynistic impulses he started training her early to take over the family business. When Bayve was about ten, Mort vanished for a couple of weeks while out gathering potion ingredients. When he came back, he had a child. He never explained where the child came from, or even gave her a name, so she was only known as the Foundling Morgan.

Some kids might resent the sudden appearance of a younger sibling, but Bayve could see the big picture: it was somebody else to take over her dad's damn shop. When it became clear that all the supernatural death and corruption that seemed to follow Foundling around also meant she was actually pretty good at magic, Bayve saw her way clear to follow her dream: get the hell out of Dog Leg and never look back.

The obvious path to glory/escape for someone with no real plans was to enlist in a battle against the Pirate Kingdoms. The recruiting sergeant, faced with a puny example of a filthy half-breed race, chose the obvious option and assigned her to a front-line unit with expected 80% casualties. It was during that battle that Bayve figured out how to smash someone's face in telekinetically, and so to everyone's surprise she was a) the most effective soldier in the battle and b) not dead at the end of it. In the eyes of high command, she'd gone from being a freak to being a DOUBLE freak with potential use, so they put her in yet another spearhead unit. This started off a cycle in which Bayve would get attached to a unit, that unit would be wiped out, but Bayve would survive. The only difference between Morgan and a crow, the rank and file muttered, was that Morgan showed up early for the slaughter.

When the war finally ended, Crow needed a new career that involved never having to move back to Dog Leg, so she decided to become a travel writer, and not stop until she'd seen the whole world. Unfortunately, a certain direct mindset, violent tendencies, and a bit of bad luck means her carefully kept notes tend to consist of "Nice trees, weather unpleasant, smashed some bastard's face in for summoning ghouls," which hasn't received great critical appeal. Still, she did a good job of the travelling and becoming a hard bastard.

In contrast to Crow's more free-wheeling approach, Foundling's goal in life has been pretty simple: get overwhelming magical power. She would nod through the days as her father explained how to make a potion of healing using grapefruit juice, and then spend the nights summoning fey spirits and making bargains for power. This was a starting point, but Foundling had quickly realized that the key to power wasn't making bargains to borrow part of someone's magic; you had to steal everything from them instead. To carry out this, she needed money, and hiring herself out as mad wizard to Chops et al was the easiest way to go about it.

Since getting back from the East, Foundling has been locked away in her father's old lab (she kicked him out), doing something to get power not dependent on magic items or infernal favours -- whatever it is, it's led to every house within five hundred yards being abandoned. The first person to see her in person since Foundling got back to Dog Leg was Crow, who having finally used up all her money on her travels, had come to ask her sister for some help. The sisters get on fairly well, being cut out of the same kill-you-if-you're-in-my-way cloth, so Foundling wrote a letter of introduction to Chops, reconsidered, then enchanted it with Magic Mouth.

Focus on Chops

Courtesy of Russell

Chops initially struggled to expand his horizons beyond his Heroic tier goal of owning a gastro pub. However with his new found extra point of INT has been reading books (well magazines) and has come up with a set of Paragon tier life goals. These are:

To sleep with a Drow princess (off camera of course). A proper one with silver hair, not an eladrin in make-up and a wig.
To raise a mercenary army and carve out his own kingdom in the wilderness and be king with a throne, a crown and one of those big fur white fur cloak things. This kingdom will be humans only with a few select demi-humans by invitation only*.
To have his own prestigious brand of designer plate mail for the discerning martial character.


Artwork by Emma Yam (mlynnz)





This is obviously all going to be pretty expensive so as a first step he has decided that he wants to go one better than Cousin Barry and kill a dragon. This is a proper dragon that breathes fire and sleeps on a pile of gold. Not a big monitor lizard or salt water crocodile. He is willing to go into the wilderness or Underdark to find this dragon, just as long as there is adequate provision for cart access to its lair to transport all the cash away afterwards.

He also wants a fifty foot high statue to himself put up in the town square in Dogleg (along with slightly smaller ones of the other surviving party members, and perhaps a tasteful plaque for the ones that died). He’d prefer marble as long as it isn’t too expensive, but he will accept granite or anything that holds a shine and isn’t going to dissolve in the rain. He is not going to let some dodgy stone merchant rip him off with limestone.

As to Fat Harold Chops votes to keep him on. He is an asset to the group dynamic, i.e. Chops enjoys bullying him.


*Presumably the hypothetical Drow princess, some Dwarven artisans (brewers) and an assortment of mixed demi-human slaves.

Character Folio

(Left to Right) Sandals, Drum, Chops, Spanner and Squid
The original Wretched Earth line-up at 1st level
Artwork - Emma Yam (mlynnz)



Talmir “Chops” Deathblow 11th Level Warlord
Chops is the de facto leader of the group for reasons that no one can clearly remember. His heroic exploits can turn the tide of a battle, but he is better known for his bigotry against halflings and gnomes. And elves. And the other lot of elves. And the lizard people.
Known as "Chops" due to his bright white teeth.
"Halflings are disgusting. They live in holes in the ground."



Jenny “Squid” Bryce 11th Level Rogue
Lethal chav with a short temper, poor social skills and an unhealthy appetite for celebrity. Squid is wanted in several states for crimes ranging from mass murder, sedition and desecrating holy artefacts to camel rustling, littering and vagrancy.
Squid gets her name from an incident as a teenager when she was arrested for stealing a calamari salad from M&S in Dog County.


Bayve "Crow" Morgan 11th Level Battlemind
Unusual woman (like her sister) who seems to use a variety of parlour tricks and stage hypnosis to her advantage in battles. Claims it's all to do with the power of the mind.
It is not known why Crow is so-called.


Ancillary Characters/NPCs

Fat Harold
Current NPC Mercenary Sorcerer. Unfit, unhygienic, uncouth and unpopular. But strangely seems to do well in the party.
"It's my glands,"


Foundling Morgan
Ex PC Warlock. Weird dusty woman that could teleport. Scary and enigmatic, but she couldn’t do a lot of damage. Crow’s half-sister.


Drum the Ranger
Ex PC Ranger. Despite being a ranger, couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a cricket bat. Blamed the arrows, the bow, the weather conditions, solar conditions – everything except his own ineptitude. Currently propping up the bar in Barry’s Place.
"It's these arrows I got conned into buying. They're cheap rubbish."


Jack Triceratops
Former NPC Mercenary Fighter. Tough as nails, and useful to have around. MIA somewhere in the Middle East.


Barry "The Fist" Deathblow
Chops's first cousin, famous adventurer and now restauranteur. Sole survivor of high-level dungeoneering party, although the M-U exists in Barry's Place as a petrified statue.
"Dungeoneering is yesterday's news. Today, it's all about goose liver parfait and a half decent Chilean Rioja, with a good location in Muswell Hill."


Errol Flynn
Former NPC Mercenary Rogue. Swashbuckling type. Good while he lasted, but low level meant that he was always on a hiding to nothing. KIA in the Far East.
"Mon dieu, and me without my sword!"


Lucky
Former NPC Mercenary Seeker. What the hell is a seeker? Wasted a lot of party healing trying to keep him alive. And he had a mullet. KIA in the Far East.
"Oh shit! There's arrows and lightning and claws and junk. People are dying! I thought I was signing up for a LARP group!"


Ned
The original low-level hanger on. First to die. Eaten by a Purple Worm in Rappan Athuk.
"So what level do all the groupies come into it?"


Sandals
Former PC Cleric. Eaten by a Purple Worm in Rappan Athuk.


Spanner
Former PC Wizard. Eaten by a Purple Worm in Rappan Athuk.


Toot
NPC Warlord. Antagonist early in the campaign. Chops’s rival.
"The best way to co-ordinate a combat is by using musical instruments"


Assorted NPC parties encountered:

The Rich Kids
The Drunken Vikings
The Lethal Line-Up
The Smelly Orcs
The Gnome Acrobats

Introducing Special Guest Star

As is her wont, Squid had asked for the day off in the middle of the dungeon without notice, apparently she had to go the her sister, Chelsey Bryce's wedding to longtime boyfriend, Darren (also father of their daughter, Bailey). Put in a difficult situation, Chops had no choice except to get a temp in. Not a hireling like Fat Harold, but an actual full Paragon level locum. At that sort of notice, the only available volunteer was:


Thelonius Monk 11th Level Monk
A spiritual traveller, we don't know much about him yet.

Carrying on from the incident with the evil twins, the party (Chops, Crow, Fat Harold and Thelonius) searched for a while before taking the decision to explore the complex a bit more. Finding another trapdoor, Crow emerged inside a filthy cave. Pulling themselves up, the party found themselves in an unpleasant mini-dungeon containing several crypts. A vicious fight with three tough undead ensued, although the idea that this smaller dungeon was extra-planar had been seeded. A few trips up and down the trapdoor revealed different contents of the mini-dungeon. Another fight with some angelic statues in an unhappy setting, and later the exploration of the same area, but abandoned.

Giving up with the area, the party took an extended rest before having a second go at the casino room. A shocking lack of non-combat ability and street smarts (in the absence of Squid) saw the Psionic Defender, Crow sitting at the table to play the enchanted game tables. As it turned out, there were psychic punishments for not winning, and Crow showed some gaming addiction. After significant pain, the table was defeated but the party decided to beat a hasty retreat to the great outdoors again.

Climbing a cliff appeared to be a task that Chops could apply himself to, although one would have thought that the unarmoured monk might have been a better choice. Falling heavily twice did not deter him, and eventually the climb up the bluff to the top of one of the rope ladders did work out in the end. An Indiana Jones-type map room was accidentally revealed by GM mistake, before the party negotiated one of the rope bridges (Fat Harold being the only one having trouble) and explored the outside of the complex. Identifying several structures that had been explored and a few that hadn't, Chops kicked down the door to an area that he didn't recognise. It turned out to be a tapestry room - and containing yet another device, this time an internal sundial of some type. A bad guess of the correct time by Thelonius resulted in a damaging fight with some Mad Wraiths, and although Chops was reluctant, they tried again and got it right. A secret door opened and allowed access the central chambers of the structure.

Within, the party came up against the most dangerous foes yet - firstly a wave of undead eladrin knights (retaining their Fey Step), followed by a huge bruiser of an undead Firbolg - which rattled the party by effectively being able to nullify the powerful Crow, with the ability to drain Healing Surges and being resistant to forced movement coupled with a strong riposte if it were attempted. Switching tactics, the party pooled firepower against the knights, whilst Crow used basic attacks only on the Firbolg Shell.

The "Ivy Heart" mentioned in the poem at the beginning manifested itself during this battle, as a terrifying plant-form with a gemstone eye. A powerful opponent, it seemed to take exception to Harold's flame powers and several rounds of combat revolved around the Ivy Heart grabbing Harold and attempting a "Soul Drain" before the rest of the party struggled to free him before he met a sticky end. Finally, the Ivy Heart switched tactics and held action to act after Harold. Fortunately, it missed it's big attack, and was destroyed in the climactic round.

The final corridor led to a large pentagonal chamber containing some sort of "Fey Engine" made of precious gems, wood and organic matter. It appeared to be focusing energy for some effect. Chops kicked out one of the supporting staves and destroyed it before the party scrambled round to retrieve any expensive-looking components.

The demise of the Fey Engine freed the Fey creatures from their madness, and the team were able to return home successful for tea and medals, with their reputation as a top level force enhanced.


What next? Well, there were levels for many of the party, but there has been significant ongoing tension with Harold. Chops will no doubt pretend to have a plan for the future.

From the GM side of the table:

Chops:
Had probably his most effective session yet. Soaked a lot of damage, healing is as good as it could reasonably be and the tactical powers were well utilised. Most of all, he's settled into either the MBA or the Opening Shove for at-will. Might be time to switch out the old Stalwart of Wolf Pack Tactics.

Crow:
Very good at keeping the party safe - as long as they can stay together. Suffered only when the Firbolg Shell proved to be a perfect counter, but was generally solid and reliable. Much more control than most defenders should have any right to expect.

Thelonius:
Had a poor start from comically bad die rolling, but recovered well. Good damage, good defences, but did struggle when hit.

Harold:
Has almost made Paragon, but is unhappy about the level of activity he's having to undertake, and the lack of protection being afforded him. As a ranged striker, he's convinced that his role is to stand a long way away and pour fire and lightning on the enemy from absolute safety. Doesn't like the party policies of bunching together close up in tight corridors and small chambers. Also suffering from a urinary tract disorder, with the imminent return of Squid, he's been making noise about taking a sitting down job in a Tech Support call centre for T-Mobile.

Update

Brief Story:

Following the Poison Farm episode, the party returned to Dog Leg and relaxed for some days – which turned to months, due to lack of work. Toot had a “big score” planned and taunted the party about it. The White Tiger had some other travelling groups staying, notably one called “The Gnome Acrobats”. After deteriorating for some time, things picked up when Shaky Graham, the rogue from Barry’s party teleported into the bar as a smoking corpse. Investigating, finding clues and casting rituals, the party determined that he had been sent as an SOS from Barry. A note mentioned that Barry had gone to Rappan Athuk.

Many seemed frightened by the mention of this name, although the gang were largely ignorant of its meaning. Travelling overland to a town known as Frog Bog, far to the south, they picked up some pointers. Rappan Athuk was a legendary dungeon complex rumoured to have a huge temple of Orcus below it, and rumoured to be the most deadly in existence. Almost a tourist attraction for adventurers, Rappan Athuk had an industry built around it – the town of Frog Bog only existed to service delving parties.

Arriving in Frog Bog, the group found one of their former comrades from their hometown, maimed and destitute. He begged them for money for passage home, and explained that Toot had led them down into Rappan Athuk, although many of them were killed just getting to the Dungeon gates. Within a day, they were hopelessly lost, and most of them dead. Two made it out of a rat tunnel and made it back to Frog Bog where they managed to find Barry and his crew. Barry had earlier decided that RA was too dangerous and was only staying in town out of interest.

Barry’s gang headed down into RA as a rescue party, but clearly had run into trouble.

Travelling to RA, Chops & co found the entrance (as described) in a depressed graveyard. On the outskirts, a confrontation with some undead hounds set the scene. Upon entering the graveyard, green/purplish gargoyles animated and attacked. Within, screaming skeletons, dung beasts and other horrors set the scene.

Travelling through old school mega dungeon for some time finally put them on Barry’s trail, until a chamber labelled “Beware Purple Worms” beckoned. A huge sandy cavern set the stage for a fight with some stealthy drow explorers. Unfortunately, the noise of combat attracted the rather larger inhabitants who surfaced. The carnage was terrible and resulted in the loss of two PCs and one NPC. Barry came to the rescue upon a Tenser’s Floating Disc (so as not to alert the Purple Worms) and the party beat a hasty retreat back to the surface.

Returning to Winder as heroes, having braved several levels of Rappan Athuk, Barry used his treasure to buy the White Tiger and converted it into a gastro pub called “Barry’s Place”. Barry was always a great adventurer, but he seemed to be an even better host and quickly became very successful. Chops & Co stayed to help Barry on various quests for a few years.
Much time passed, and Drum lost the appetite for adventuring, as Chops and Squid decided to move on by taking on a mission from Barry to find a legendary Chinese cookbook so that he could expand the repertoire of his restaurant menu. Rumoured to be kept in a monastery in the mountains of the Far East, Chops, Squid, an enigmatic teleporting Warlock known as Foundling, her sister Crow and a host of mercenaries headed east to find it.

Once in the Cathay Region, Chops and the mercenaries made arrangements to find porters and travel into the mountains, Squid and Crow did some sightseeing and were involved in a probate dispute that resulted in the deaths of dozens of villagers and the discovery of a nest of demons and a demonic hydra-like beast in the oriental sewers. Strange, yes. But they did hit paragon tier before Chops.

The foray into the mountains was violent and noisy, after it was revealed that an evil curse had befallen the monastery and turned the monks evil and/or undead. Two NPCs were killed, and it was a bit touch and go with the level of damage output the party could claim. Successfully killing the grandmaster and looting the temple, the party returned home even more famous and settled down for a bit.

Three years passed, during which:

Chops battled over-indulgence problems. Drinking, smoking, eating rich food.

Squid found tabloid fame, married, fell from grace, claimed a divorce by intimidating her spouse, murdered several reporters, and determined that the only way back to positive media image was to take up adventuring again.

Getting back together with Chops, and new hire, Crow – the half-sister of Foundling, the new improved gang set off for pastures new.

*

Undertaking a quest to track down missing caravans, the party encountered maddened fey (and killed them – although they had the alarming habit of re-animating briefly after being slain). A portal to what was presumed to be the Feywild was located, and crossed into.

On the “other side”, things were predictably lush and green, although a large and imposing structure featuring rope bridges and waterfalls seemed to pose a challenge. A long winded riddle\poem greeted them and some animated statues briefly held up progress. A few secret doors later, and the party entered a strange shaped maze of corridors. A few more crazy fey (and subsequent re-animations) later, and the game’s afoot…..