[geeks] D&D 4e is here

[Phil Stracchino]

Nadine Miller wrote:
> On Jun 11, 2008, at 10:49 AM, Phil Stracchino wrote:
> 
>> Rick Hamell wrote:
>>> I really feel sorry for you all who've been in bad game groups. If
>>> anyone is in Portland/Beaverton Oregon drop me a line and I'll get  
>>> you
>>> hooked up.
>> Oh, but the stories I could tell about the good groups.  :)
> 
> Ditto.  I've had a couple of campaigns last 4+ years RT with the good  
> groups.

A fun story that springs to mind, from about 1985:

[prologue]

We had just completed the Lich Lords campaign, which the DM had adjusted
upwards in difficulty to compensate for us having a larger and
higher-level party than it was designed for.  In the last moments of the
final showdown with the final lich, the party was down to two members
left standing, my 17th-level paladin and a 15th-level mage.  Both
clerics were down, the other paladin was down, the assassin was down,
and I forget who else we had.  The final Lich Lord was laughing at us
from behind the prismatic sphere he had erected.

In desperation, my paladin uttered a brief but heartfelt prayer of
apology to Tyr (his patron) and appeal for help to Athena (the other
paladin's patron), dropped his shield, picked up the Crystal Sword (the
other paladin's holy sword), and charged the arch-lich dual-wielding
both Holy Avengers.  He made it through (and dispelled) four of the
seven layers of the prismatic sphere before simultaneously failing both
of the magic-resistance rolls off the Holy Avengers and his saving
throw, getting magically poisoned, turned to stone, and banished to the
ninth plane of Hell.

So, we had to go rescue him.

[our main feature]

Well, we assembled a large, potent, and oddly chaotic party including my
chaotic-neutral 21st-level mage, another mage (the one from the first
campaign), a paladin, a very-high-level not-exactly-a-monk, a high-level
cleric, a thief, and an anti-paladin of some chaotic persuasion.  And
through various travails, a lot of fighting and a few clever and sneaky
tricks, we start working our way down the nine levels of Hell.  We're
down on the fourth plane deciding the best way to infiltrate Dispater's
palace to access the portal to the fifth level, somewhere down in his
sub-basements, and we find what appears to be a side door.  It's a large
iron door, about ten feet high by seven wide, with a protruding boss in
the middle of the door.  The boss has something written on it in a
circle, in some kind of diabolic runescript which we cannot decipher
(and which gives the cleric headaches trying).  In the center of the
circle of runes, a faintly-glowing dull-red stone button, five or six
inches across, protrudes about two inches.  The antipaladin
unhesitatingly marches up to the door and, before anyone can say
anything, pushes the button.  There is a loud CLICK.

We hold our breath.  Nothing happens.  After several minutes, when no
alarm appears to have been raised, we relax and try the door.  It's
locked.  The thief checks for traps and finds nothing, but is unable to
unlock the door.  My mage Knocks.  There is a loud CLICK!, and the
button pops out.  The antipaladin immediately pushes the button again.
CLICK.

"Don't push the button," we tell the antipaladin.  My mage Knocks again.
 CLICK!  The button pops out.  The antipaladin, happy as a sandboy,
pushes the button again before anyone can stop him.  CLICK.

Several characters sigh.  We subdue and forcefully restrain the
antipaladin.  My mage Knocks again.  CLICK!  Out pops the button.  The
thief checks the door.  It is now unlocked, and opens freely.  It had
been unlocked when we first found it.  We could have just walked right in.

Evading patrolling diaboli, we stealthily make our way down into the
sub-cellars, searching for the portal.  As we walk down one corridor,
the antipaladin looks around a corner and sees, twenty feet or so down
the side passage, another ten-foot-tall iron door just like the first.
It's his lucky day, and he's in his happy place.  He marches straight up
to the door before anyone can stop him, and pushes the button.

*WHAMcrunch*  The door slams down flat to the corridor floor.

Well, *almost* flat; it's unable to compress the antipaladin and his
gear beyond about a four-inch layer.  Then it slowly rises back to the
vertical, and the button pops back out.  We cautiously retrieve the
antipaladin's body, and carefully ... separate his all-but-pulped mortal
remains from the mangled remnants of his armor, which now looks somewhat
like a beer can stomped by a frost giant.  The cleric is able to
regenerate and resurrect him, but his armor is destroyed beyond our
ability to repair, and several of his weapons are broken.  He remains
dazed and somewhat incoherent for the remainder of that gaming session,
which takes us about half way across the fifth plane....



-- 
  Phil Stracchino, CDK#2     DoD#299792458     ICBM: 43.5607, -71.355
  alaric at caerllewys.net   alaric at metrocast.net   phil at co.ordinate.org
         Renaissance Man, Unix ronin, Perl hacker, Free Stater
                 It's not the years, it's the mileage.