Not So Dreamy

Mmmm...let's see. Where to start? Where to start...?

So, for last year's Cauldron, my inspiration for the Blackrazor Tournament Cup adventure came mainly from the old TSR module DL6: Dragons of Ice (you can read all about it in this post from last year). The reasons were many, but mostly I found the substantive bits of DL6...the encounter numbers and constituent parts...to be perfectly sound, even if they were (IMO) rather blandly executed. Consequently, it seemed an ideal time to repurpose yet another one of the Dragonlance adventures that I'd picked up in a huge stack, way back in 2023. 

And the result had been so great (from my perspective) that I thought I'd mine the same vein again for 2026's Cauldron. 

DL10: Dragons of Dreams is one of the more infamous adventure modules from the DL line. It is terrible as written...nigh unplayable. Or, rather, it is playable but it would be such a headache to run in a practical, efficient manner that most DMs would probably throw up their hands halfway through the thing. Here's a fairly accurate review of the module...the first sentence pretty much sums it up.

Great, evocative artwork

And yet, the premise of DL10 isn't bad at all...it works especially well in my home campaign where I've made a "war with Tiamat" an ongoing part of the setting. The Dragonlance Silvanesti are pretty obviously stand-ins for AD&D's "grey elves" (themselves akin to Tolkien's Noldor...maybe), but for me they work better as wood elves which puts them in the Colville National Forest of (north) Eastern Washington, an area that (later in the war) is continuously beset and harrassed by the Green Wing of Tiamat's army, operating out of occupied Coeur d'Alene in northern Idaho. The wood elves of that realm (more similar to Tolkien's Mirkwood elves in my setting than the Melnibonean stand-ins that are my high elves on the Olympic Peninsula) have largely left because of the war, becoming refugees, driven from one town to the next in the (human) Red Empire of eastern Washington. If your PC is an elven thief or fighter in my campaign, chances are you are a wood elf (the assassins, magic-users, and multi-class MUs are mainly high elf adventurers from west of the Cascades).

[here's an overview of my campaign world's elves...solely for the interested]

ANYway...DL10's premise is pretty good: the elven king has sent away his people as he tried to use a dragon orb (one of three such artifacts in the Dragonlance universe) in a bid to stave off the dragon army and instead gets ensorcelled by the thing. The PCs get Shanghaied (is that still an acceptable term to use?) by the king's only daughter to help free her father; meanwhile, the whole realm has gone all twisted and weird as it has been molded by the enchanted nightmare of the king. Players have to fight their way through a illusions and their own psychomachia just so that they can face a green dragon in the king's throne room at the end. That's the BASIC outline/gist of the adventure...I challenge ANY DM to run DL10 as written using the standard AD&D rules. Seriously, gauntlet thrown. You want to prank someone hard? Get them a copy of DL10 off of DriveThruRPG and ask them to read it for you.

As I discussed earlier, I spent months considering how I could make a proper "dreamscape" adventure for Cauldron using the premise of DL10. I came up with the title ("Nightmare Realm of Death") waaaay back in March or April (I started my early documents for the thing on April 2nd). But it wasn't till June or July that I made any headway on the thing. For TOURNAMENT purposes, there were several considerations I was working with:

• It needed to be runnable in four hour time slot.
• It needed some solid "victory" conditions with granular variation between TOTAL SUCCESS and ABJECT FAILURE (TPK usually).
• Scoring should be OBJECTIVE and (mainly) TREASURE BASED
• It couldn't be so convoluted and subjective in ruling that different DMs couldn't all run it in (more or less) the same fashion.

The elements I wanted to KEEP from the original module included:

• The level range of the module (8th-10th).
• The king, the "orb," and the green dragon.
• The princess/adventurer (who would be a playable PC as in the DL10 module).
• An overland journey through a nightmare realm where reality wasn't what it seemed.
• A castle destination at the end.

While the pre-gens are all based on the actual Dragonlance PCs included in DL10 (why not? They're written for the proper level of the module), I wanted none of their past history BS being dragged into dream scenarios...that kind of thing is fine in a book or novel, but it doesn't (usually) resonate with players at a gaming table. Besides, the tournament measures skill as an adventurer (knowledge of systems, risk-reward, cooperation) not the level of melodramatic feeling one can bring to a "role-played" performance. No, sir. This is AD&D we're playing.

In the end, I punted on the whole dream bit. Instead, I took creatures one might expect to encounter in an elven wood (treants, bears, etc.) and made them evil and mentally unbalanced. Polluted lakes could have shambling mounds. River crossings would have trolls. That kind of thing. Had to throw in some level-draining critters (wraiths disguised as illusionary elves...pretty sure those are in the original module, too) in order for the cleric to feel they've earned their salt in addition to healing. Plus, since this is my campaign setting's version of "Mirkwood," giant spiders were a must. 

The road to the palace would be fairly linear, with distractions along the way...some of which could be rewarding, most of which would be time-wasters. Certain choices would increase the amount of "game time" being spent, which could have repercussions (certain encounters being more dangerous in the dark), but this was a minor consideration. Game time is elastic...real time (the four hour time limit) is the true enemy to success, and the more players chose to dither or plan or explore side paths, the less time they would have to fulfill their ultimate objective: freeing the wood elf king from the spell he was under. 

I don't have "dragon orbs" in my campaign, but I have the standard artifacts of the DMG, and for me the Orb of the Elder Wyrm was a perfect fit: it explained the presence of Cabos Saabz (my version of Cyan Bloodbane) and how the thing had trapped the mind of the king (the Orb has a particularly high INT and EGO scores). What's more, as a reward it's a nice chunk of change (70K) easily traded to the Red Emperor for the ongoing conflict with Tiamat. I decided that there would be several possible "victory results:"

#1 the party defeats the dragon, but lose both the princess and the king in the process. 

#2 the party defeats the dragon, but loses the princess (the king remains alive).

#3 the party defeats the dragon, but loses the king (the princess remains alive).

#4 the party defeats the dragon, save the king, AND maintain the life of the princess.

All four victory results would allow the players to acquire varying amounts of treasure. In the case of #1, the party would be left to try to find Cabos's hoard on their own (not very hard) but would be left without a means of transporting it. With #2, the PCs' employer (the princess) would not be around to provide transportation of the treasure, but the king could at least point them to the hoard. In the case of #3, the princess would honor her contract, giving the PCs all of the hoard (and arranging transportation of it); her own share of the treasure would, of course, also count towards the score. And in the case of #4, the party would receive the hoard AND would be given access to the elves' "secret treasure vault," only accessible (and known) by the grateful king.

I further stipulated (having some experience with goody-goody, hero-type players) that if the party decided to altruistically give back some of their hard-won treasure to rebuild the elven kingdom, that the king might be impressed enough to arrange a marriage between his daughter and one of the adventurers. This would result in a slight hit to the treasure total, but all other treasure recovered would count for DOUBLE the score. However, accomplishing this would require a positive (76+) reaction roll (modified by the CHA of the PC). This was a SECRET victory objective, unknown to the players.

Achieving all four victory conditions (let alone the SECRET victory condition) would require the players to keep the elf princess alive...not terribly easy given that she only had 31 hit points and was likely to get blasted by the dragon. However, the pre-gens DID have an "ace in the hole" that could, in theory, keep the elf alive...the thief PC possessed a luck blade with two (2) wishes. 

However, I'm mean so I didn't note that the luck blade had wishes...only that it had "two charges."

[players are welcome to ask me what the powers/abilities of their magical equipment does...and I'll tell them...but this takes precious time from their four hour game limit. Still, it's a good idea: Sabine, playing the magic-user in my session, recorded all the abilities of her 14 charge staff of power to start the game, and was able to make good use of the item]

The wishes could, of course, be used to shortcut or survive other travails in the adventure...this is to be expected. I gave some guidelines to the DMs of how to use the wishes (guidelines that not all of them followed...*AHEM*)...but as with many things related to differing DMing "styles," such is ALSO to be expected.

In play-testing the adventure with my home group, the players decided (right after getting mashed half-to-death by insane treants in the first encounter): "F this noise, we're going to wish ourselves into the elves' secret treasure vault." Not even knowing there WAS a "secret treasure vault." The treasure vault is, however, all but impossible to open without the king so they were effectively trapped (albeit with one more wish to their names). Still, my players never got so far as looking for an exit...after looting the hell out of the place, they said "Hey, aren't we supposed to rescue that king guy?" and wished themselves into the elf king's presence. 

At which point, hilarity ensued.

For my tournament session at Cauldron, my players were largely unaware of the wishes...the thief player did not (apparently) know what a luck blade was, nor did he ask about it, nor did he communicate to the other players the fact that he possessed it. Again, this kind of situation is totally reasonable to expect...the tournament measures players' skill...not just how well they know the rules ('what's a luck blade?') but how well they play the game. Do they look at their character sheet? Do they communicate with their companions? Do they ask for help when they are ignorant and in need of advice? And, then, how EXPEDIENT they are in accomplishing these things?

The time limit is there for a Very Real Reason. Not just because Cauldron is broken up into four hour time slots (which, I imagine, is what the convention organizers would say), but because it measures how we use our time. We are busy individuals, with all sorts of distractions and priorities vying for our attention. When we sit down to play a game like D&D, we are measuring out the minutes of our life...minutes we will never get back. Do we throw them away? Or do we use them wisely? Yes, you can go over every step of a plan a half-dozen times...eating away your time on the clock...in order to perfectly succeed (always assuming the dice rolls cooperate...). But will you accomplish as much as keeping things short and sweet and letting bold action rule your decision making process? This is a balancing act players must master, just as much as the vaunted "risk-reward" axis of game play.

The time limit, along with the treasure score, measures just how much game action you're getting out of your game play. Or, to put it another way: are you making it worth your while to play the game the way you're playing it?

In my Cauldron session, the party was proceeding in a brisk, but semi-cautious fashion when they came to the first combat encounter: four insane/enraged treants. Treants...even 8 HD ones like these...are no joke. Because of the terrain, the encounter distance is short, even if the treants don't achieve surprise...you're basically wading into melee against (the equivalent of) four hill giants with AC 0 and double attacks. That's a bone-crunching mess, depending on what formation the PCs are walking in. After sustaining a massive pummeling and expending a lot of healing, my group wanted to rest and regain their spells...something that (under the scenario conditions) they could not do in the evilly enchanted forest. They instead decided to retreat from the forest, out beyond the Pend Oreille river, in order to camp and rest in relative peace. 

[I will note that not EVERYONE in the party wanted to do this; Prince pushed for 'following the treants backtrail' into the woods, hoping to discover their lair. This would have been especially amusing as the scenario explicitly notes: "If the party decides to travel off the road for some reason, they will be attacked by 1d20 such treants every hour." Oh, how I would have cackled!]

SO...basically they wanted to do a "hard reset" of the adventure. Which wasn't explicitly disallowed, but wasn't something I'd really considered a possibility when designing the thing.  I allowed them to follow their plan of making camp, and rolled a random (night) encounter on the temperate wilderness table of the DMG. A "1" came up on the D12, and wouldn't you know it, but 10 OGRES happened upon them. So much for a good night's sleep!

At this point, I made the decision to ignore the random encounter, and just let them have their rest. They were already wasting time on the clock, and the adventure was explicit about where and when to roll for random encounters (this being a tournament scenario, such things are set only in certain places, and for specific reasons). Why water down the experience they had signed up to have by beating them to a pulp, spoiling their party's rest, and possibly TPKing them at encounter minus one?

I am nothing if not generous.

Back into the fray they went, Prince still talking about following the treants backtrail (he was playing a ranger, after all), but he was outvoted. Another side trail led to a long abandoned elven shrine where they could potentially score some loot from the offering bowls. They sent the thief in alone to scout the place. He was promptly surprised by five huge spiders dropping from the ceiling of the shrine. Uh-oh. Thief down.

The party fired a ton of missile fire (and magic missiles) into the open shrine and then demonstrated their ample AD&D knowledge by using slow poison and neutralize poison to save the beleaguered thief. Good enough. They took the handful of coins, chose NOT to defile the shrine by prying the emerald eyes out of the statue, and found an old dirt path leading through the woods. They decided to take this, thereby skipping three more encounter areas and saving valuable time on the clock.

[by this point, Ken was pushing the group pretty sternly to press forward...he did a good job keeping the players on track and moving when they might have otherwise dithered and screwed around. This is good stuff: even though adventuring parties are an "egalitarian" group of equals, it is HELPFUL to have a take-charge voice in the group to organize and focus the group. Of course, the downside is such a voice can lead an entire group into serious trouble (choose your leaders wisely!), but usually it's better to have SOMEone step up than have NO ONE. Such has been my experience and it was certainly the case in this session]

As the mountain path led down to the southern, swampy part of the lake turned bog, the party encountered a pair of shambling mounds, wisely decided against using lightning on the things, and managed to battle them to the death, even after multiple PCs had become entangled in their depths. Onward they pressed, up the mountainous river road towards their final destination. 

Three mutated, starving brown bears were the next thing encountered on the road, only one of which was real (the other two illusionary). In hindsight, there probably should have been more illusions in the adventure to add to the "dream" quality of the thing...but the players never figured out an earlier wall of fire was an illusion, and they avoided several illusionary encounters by taking their backwoods path. I don't know...I guess my version of DL10 suffered somewhat in execution, too. They killed two of the "bears" and charmed the third which (by random roll) turned out to be the only non-illusionary one. They gave it food and sent it off into the woods before proceeding on. 

The elf king's fort is 100% based on Tolkien's Mirkwood elves, including a large gate in the side of a mountain, an underground river, wine cellars, etc. No big deal...just pointing out what a hack adventure designer I am. The gate, an enormous carved thing of massive cedar logs that seemed to writhe and move, was actually two illusionary mimics that, if engaged with for any length of time, would ensure that the dragon was awake and well-prepared (spell-wise) for the PCs depending on just how long they futzed with the things. The party went to go "check the doors for traps" (which would have been disastrous for them) but Sabine stopped them and simply knocked the doors open, thereby allowing the party the possibility of surprising the dragon in its den. This, in addition to her liberal use of her staff's paralyzation ray and other timely spell-casting, was what made me give her the nod as "MVP" for the session.

The dragon was not surprised (that I recall), nor (unfortunately for the party) was it sleeping. In my home game it had been sleeping (40% chance, rolled in front of the players)...which enabled the thief to move silently up to it and backstab the thing. Whereupon it woke up and killed half the party (including the elven princess) before being taken down. No such luck for my Cauldron players, but at least it wasn't invisible, shielded, and setting giant globes of darkness around the hall.

The party wisely split wide to prevent its breath weapon from decimating them, and charged it from multiple angles, the more fragile members of the group hanging back and weaving spells. It was at this point the other party members noticed the thief had a luck blade ("You have wish spells?! Use them!"). The thief immediately wished the dragon was dead and promptly disappeared. 

[see PHB p.94 for an explanation]

The princess (a fighter/magic-user) cast haste on the entire party which, amusingly, could have ended multiple lives as it required each PC to make a system shock roll versus aging...but luck was on their side and everyone survived. The dragon was taken down without a single life lost, and the person who grabbed the orb away from the king (Ken? I think so) had a high enough personality score that the PC was able to control it. Total victory won!

Schibbi (playing the princess) asked if the thief reappeared. Why, yes, he did!

SO...a big fat score was had by the party. Then Schibbi actually asked if his character could marry one of the other party members thus getting some sort of dowery (and extra loot score!) from the elf king. I couldn't believe someone was trying to backchannel my own secret victory condition! I decided that even suggesting such a thing was worth a shot and getting the "doubled score" (although I would subtract the portion from the party's loot as a 'wedding gift'). 

However, first the would-be spouse had to impress the father of the bride. "Which character are you going to marry?" Well, the half-elf seemed obvious...plus he had a solid charisma score with a +15% reaction bonus. Dice rolled...abject failure (perhaps the king objected to his profession as an assassin?). I gave the players one more chance to impress...either the human fighter or the human cleric (both had excellent CHA scores), but I can't remember who they went with. Didn't matter. Another % roll in the teens and the King was having none of it. 

BUT...plenty of loot and a fine score for the party, putting them firmly in 4th place with a score of 462,001. If they had succeeded in the marriage proposal, they would have ended up in 2nd place with nearly 742K (the winners of the tournament DID succeed at the marriage proposition...the only group that did...and finished with a final tally of nearly 785K...just 2,328 points shy of the maximum possible score). A very fine run, in my opinion.

Prince gave the session only a *** (out of *****) rating on his blog, which seems about par for the course (he gave me the same score last year). I'm okay with that. This was a difficult adventure to write...not in terms of monsters and treasure and maps, but in terms of tone and theme. I wanted the thing to have a "slow burn" quality to it...a gradual feeling of "ramping up" (helped by a gradual "whittling down" of resources), leading to a nice little climax with a type of dragon I don't often use (not that I "often" use dragons, but green ain't my favorite of the five colors).

The thing was effective enough, but the illusion bits didn't really "bite" the way I wanted, and the thing felt...almost...a tad "soft." A dragon goes down QUICK when piled on by eight adventurers. And no dragon should feel like an easy out. But it's hard to measure how many player deaths a group can sustain and still have an adequate chance of success. 4-5 PCs against a beholder turned into a TPK when playtesting Horn of the Eye...but that was a party who'd lost their wizard. These types of things are difficult to account for, as you never know how the dice will fall.

However, I do know this: when I am a DM, I play intelligent adversaries in ruthless fashion. If the adventurers had happened upon an awake, prepared dragon, their lives would have been much more in jeopardy...much, much more. HIgh level spell-casters (especially with minions), spell-casting dragons, powerful demons and undead...these things can be absolutely punishing to ill-prepared, tentative, and/or indecisive players, especially those unable to cooperate with each other or think up quick plans on the fly. My HOPE is that these tournament modules test that mettle in the players. AND (of course) I hope they have a good time in the process.

A couple more words:

I am already considering what I want to do for next year's Blackrazor Cup...I actually have quite a few ideas jotted down. Calithena (aka Ignatius Umlaut aka "Sean"), the illustrious producer of Fight On! magazine has graciously offered to collaborate on the adventure; I'm going to touch base with him in a couple weeks. However, I've already decided that the next adventure will be a return to the site-based (i.e. "dungeon") style of the first two BRC adventures, and that it will have a slightly different method of scoring, which will require individual players to "step up" and take a bit out of the hands of DMs. The current working title is Into Light And Darkness (although I also liked the ring of Dead Elf Station). This one will take place in that vicious green inferno known as Oregon. 

Just so you know.

The other thing I wanted to say is that I know several people would like copies of these tournament adventures and I AM in the process of publishing them; I hope to have at least one or two available at DriveThruRPG by the end of the year. As they become available, I will post a notice about it here on Ye Old Blog...I know that there are folks who are anxious to run these at their home tables, and that makes me very happy.

All right, that's enough. Happy trails everyone!

Back From A Land Of Fire And Ice

I'm writing this Thursday morning, but I'm probably posting it around...mm...Tuesday? Wednesday? After all, I had a series of five Cauldron posts to get up on Ye Old Blog.

But right now, Dear Reader, you are time traveling with me, back to the past. The day is Thursday, October 15th. Where you are now, in the present, I've already had a full weekend back in Seattle, already coached another soccer game, attended church (I hope!), had my kids back in school, back at the grind, etc. Life 'round these parts are, as they say, "back to normal"...as you are reading this.

But for me, in YOUR past. Well, I just got back to town yesterday.

Iceland is a beautiful country...but I can see how it might not be everyone's cup o tea (at least, not in mid-October). For me, it was lovely...kind of a sepia-colored version of Hawaii's "Big Island," but with high winds and glaciers instead of daily sprinkles and lush greenery. The prices are about the same.

Haha! No disrespect intended! I'm not a big "beach person," but my wife is and she LOVED Iceland, and was talking about making it an annual trip. Right up until we learned that its hundreds of active volcanoes could blow up half the place at any time and the 60mph winds had shut down the highways we needed to travel to get back to the airport (and, man, did they shake our little bungalow Tuesday night! Glad we decided against the "glamping" igloos!).

No, but it was wonderful. Great people, great food, great scenery ("majestic" would be a better word), great hiking. And lovely, lovely relaxing hot springs and spas. Oh, man. My family got there on Friday...I met them Monday afternoon after four solid days of rough riding in Germany (truly, it felt like Germany and ridden over me...). But after entering the warm embrace of my family...and then entering the warm embrace of the Blue Lagoon...all the physical and mental stress of the past week slipped away. Not even the icy rain pelting my mineral facial mask could diminish the comfort of the soak, or the steam of the "volcano" room. Hell, I haven't had a good cold plunge since I was in Kyoto (Japan) circa age of 17...I forgot how refreshing it can be to overload the nerve endings on occasion.

[a rather large selection of gins, as well, but I only sampled one as I was "drying out my liver" after Cauldron]

Yeah, I'm spoiled. But I'm not going to allow the guilt from my privilege to detract from what was a really nice (and very much needed) micro-vacation. It was good, I am blessed, and the credit card will be paid off eventually.

The viking culture stuff was great, too, of course, though I wasn't there long enough to check out the museums (or Reykjavik at all, really). Mostly we just hiked waterfalls and glaciers for a couple days. Saw "the world's only live lava show" that was pretty good. Wish I'd seen that BEFORE writing my Horn of the Eye adventure, as it would have had some impact on how the magma fields worked (SPOILER: pretty much the same as they did, but humans don't sink when they fall into a lake of lava, the lava being far more dense than the buoyant human body. ALSO: while steel DOES heat up, like a heat metal spell...faster, in fact...it has a higher melting point than lava, so should really just turn red-hot, depending on the heat keeping the molten rock in its liquid state). Really good, interesting info there...probably something for a future adventure.

No, the worst thing I can say about Iceland (the winds didn't bother me a whit) was the DRIVING, because of the absolutely draconian speeding laws and radar cameras stationed all about the island. I am a lead-foot driver and I fully expect to receive several thousand krona worth of fines and tickets in my mailbox in the next few weeks. I was white-knuckling it most of the time...the only stress I had in Iceland...trying to maintain their 90 and 70 and 50 kmph speed limits at all times. And it's not like there's any traffic...it's about Montana level out there. Ah, well. I know the Europeans are diligent in tracking down malefactors like myself (I've received speeding tix from Spain in the past). The amount we end up paying their Transpo department will directly affect how soon we make it back, I'm sure.

[yet another reason I prefer Germany, really]

But OTHER than that...a stupendous time and a welcome relief, making the journey home to Seattle quite relaxing. I wasn't even stressed/worried about the extraordinary long lines at customs to exit the country: having already experienced them on the journey east, I knew that Icelandair would hold the plane for us and still, somehow, land us at SeaTac on schedule.

And they did.

: )

The last and only other thing I have to say about Iceland (other than it was great and everyone should check it out once in their lifetimes), is that climbing the cliffs, being with my family (Diego and I had a LOT of discussions about the events at Cauldron...he was especially intrigued by all the Chainmail battles), it put my mind in the peaceful, joyful state that conjured up a new, fiendish idea for next year's Blackrazor Cup Tournament adventure. No, it has nothing to do with Vikings, trolls, glaciers, or volcanoes...nothing at all to do with Iceland, in fact. But the calm serenity of the place gave my mind the space it needed to percolate. And when that percolation happens, well, good things (good ideas, that is) can arise out of it. "Spontaneous creativity" in a way that doesn't happen when chatting with an AI chatbot.

[the latter, I find, actually stunts the creative process. But maybe that's just me]

Okay, that's enough...just a short one for today. Next post, I'll discuss the tournament adventure, somewhat in depth. Hope everyone is having a restful, relaxing week.

Cauldron Day 4: Falling Back In (Semi-)Good Order

Sunday morning. I woke up, looked at my phone, and saw that it was 9:20am. This was solely by the Grace of God. I had not set an alarm when I went to bed or...if I had...I had somehow slept through it.

It took me a few moments to orient myself, remember where I was, understand what I was looking at.

Uh-oh.

One of the reasons Cauldron runs as well as it does is its fairly strict time table. People are, of course, welcome to let their games run long, but the meals are going to start when they start (and stop serving when they stop). People are welcome to tarry in the dining hall enjoying each other's company, but then they might miss out on joining a session block. There's no pressure, but the train runs as it runs.

Looking at the time, I'd already missed breakfast and I was on the verge of missing the Awards Ceremony, which was scheduled to begin at 9:30am. What's more, it had been made abundantly clear (multiple times) that we had to be completely packed and vacated from our rooms by 9:30 so that the club was not charged extra money...while Cauldron proper ran till 2pm with a final session block in the gaming hall, our quarters needed to be turned out. 

Somehow...adrenaline I suppose...I pulled myself from the bed and hurriedly packed everything in my room into my suitcase and backpack. I had no time to shower or stretch...hell, I didn't even have time to brush my teeth. I don't remember putting on my clothes (perhaps I'd crashed in them) but somehow I ended up fully dressed.

However, there was another reason for my panicked rush: the Awards Ceremony. As the guy in charge of the Blackrazor Tournament Cup, it was my job to tabulate the winners and read the results. Shit, I was supposed to present trophies...I think. I mean, I had expected to get up on time and go over all this with the tournament organizers while sipping my morning coffee. Instead, I'd nearly slept through the thing!

Fortunately, I had been keeping up with the scores as DMs had provided me with them and already had a spreadsheet going (I'd also made myself cheat sheets for quick calculations). I had everything finished and slid my laptop into my pack just as Thomas came by knocking on the doors to get any stragglers out. I was down the stairs and to the dining hall (where everyone was already gathered) just as Settembrini was finishing up the other award categories and introducing the Blackrazor Cup trophies. I heard him say:

"Is he here? Oh, he is! Good...just in time!" 

And then I was on.  Jeez, what an embarrassment!

Staggering my way through the crowd, I was able to recount the scores. This year's participants were, overall, quite successful: six of the eight made it to the end with at least part of their party intact, and five of the groups ended up with scores in the 400K+ range. Oh, and "only" two TPKs...I'd actually expected more (my group had the possibility of a third but...well, we'll get to that!). Overall winner went to the German-language group who really went hard at cleaning out the place. With a grand score of 784,917, they nearly hit the maximum limit of 787,245...and they weren't even satisfied with that (asking "What did we miss?!" even as they were being handed their trophies). Wow, kids...you won, all right?

: )

But while the general mood was celebratory, I was feeling...pretty rough. I'd been handed my morning carafe of decaf coffee, but I had to have two or three shots of "regular" first, just to stay standing. Oh, man. Recovery from being "over-served" is usually one of my stronger traits...but it requires SLEEP for the magic to happen, and the less-than-four hours I'd gotten was not going to cut it. As I mentioned earlier, my intention was to get into Keith Sloan's Forgotten Grottoes of the Sea Lords. Having talked to Keith during dinner (and expressing my difficulty in getting onto the sign-up sheet) he advised me: "Just crash it." Unfortunately, I wasn't in any shape to crash anything. Maybe a car, if I'd been driving.

[too bad, because from what people said afterwards, the Sea Lords game was especially killer]

Instead, I wolfed down some of the leftovers from breakfast (especially the fresh veg) and then made the rounds to look in on the various tables, still gaming hard into Day 4: Attronarch with his giant table, Grutzi with his neverending cheese runs, Andrew (of Britain's Grellcon), Keith, Justin ("the Particularist")...I wandered and sipped coffee, and took photos (which I will not share here) and shook hands and said parting words. Spent some 30-40 minutes outside talking youth soccer strategy with a fellow con-goer (sorry, man...I can't remember your name!); apparently, people read my blog.

I had hoped to bid on one of the special "Cauldron hoodies" that the organizers had worn, but I missed the cutoff the night before (too busy trying to run a game while blind drunk). So I was terribly surprised and pleased when I was gifted with one as a parting gift. 

These people, man.

I took it all the way up till 2pm...mainly because Alex and Grutzi and I had arranged to take Prince back to Frankfurt with us and the game he was playing in went all the way to the end of Cauldron. Before I get to that (not much to say, as I was barely conscious on the car ride), I have a few specific things to say from this last day.

I missed almost the entirety of the awards ceremony, and it was not until much later that I learned which player won the Cup of Demise (Svante) and the Most Valuable Player (Niklas), neither of whom I think I met during the convention. Certainly I don't remember putting their names down on my evaluation sheet, which was the basis for these awards as well as the Best DM trophy, deservedly won by Melan.

Of course, MY votes for these awards didn't count anyway, as I had failed to turn in my evaluation for the tournament (despite being diligent about filling it out)! Getting caught up in the dinner, the auction, the drinking, and the late night gaming, it had completely slipped my mind...although I did give the sheet to head data collator ("Blut Und Glas") sometime after the awards ceremony had been completed. Would my eval have made a difference in the scoring? Possibly. I had different MVPs listed for each of my game sessions (not because I wanted to, just because it worked out that way), so the most that could have occurred, I suppose, would have been a tie, if only one point had separated the eventual winner.

As for "the Best DM:" Blut told me that (as per usual) the criteria had changed yet again this year and that the judging was based on how influential/connected the DM's adventures were to their home campaign (or something like that). Well, my adventures were ALL connected to my home campaign, and most had direct impact on my setting:

Blood on Blizzard Pass: the Master was a potential ally of the Dragon Queen (the PCs discovered papers discussing the proposed alliance). 

Assault on Sky Fortress: the Queen's "doomsday weapon" could be captured or destroyed, impacting the war effort.

Horn of the Eye: the beholder was another potential ally of Tiamat, but because of the players' (successful) subterfuge, bad blood might have been stirred up between the entities.

And even the tournament adventure has an impact the war, since the recovery of the Orb of the Elder Wyrm can shift the balance of power to the Red Empire, while the ending of the elven diaspora in Colville will have profound importance for the allied forces.

The Jewel of Demogorgon adventure was set three years AFTER the war's end, but it is still connected to my campaign (and its background story being connected to the rebuilding of Pullman), but it had no current influence on the campaign as it currently stands. It would have an impact on future Cauldron events, however, as I used it as a precursor to my (eventual) Revenge of Demogorgon adventure. 

So...would any of that have made a difference?

Ha! It honestly doesn't matter; I am quite content with the results. Melan has been showing up and putting in the work (and excellent work it is) for the last four years and he is welcome to feather his cap. In fact, I'm indebted to the guy: he did me a solid by autographing my copy of his Gamemaster's Guidelines that I purchased at this year's Cauldron. Didn't have a chance to crack this beefy tome until I was resting in a secluded cabin in Iceland (ah, Iceland...that's a whole 'nother post), but it's probably worth a review. I'll get to that eventually, I'm sure (yes, plenty of blog fodder here).

I...

I'm starting to wonder if it is still the gaming that draws me to Cauldron. I mean, absolutely the gaming IS the draw...if there was no gaming, or if they decided to run 5E or something, I would stop coming (there ain't enough free beer in the world, people...). But I think the highlight of seeing these people, these special, special people, has become my main impetus to buy a plane ticket to this little gaming convention, halfway around the world.

Seeing Michal ("Bifi") and Sonke and Mike (Sipior) and Prince and Grutz and Setti and Alex and Tamas and Chomy and Iudex and Michele and...well, hell, all of you. Lynch and Eric and Theo and Parti and Philipp and Premier and Toby and Mitch and Fred and Walid and Soren and Schibbi and Butch and Lutz and, and...

You know, I met a LOT of new people this year. Missed seeing some guys like Orlando, but was happy to make the acquaintance of new folks like Joseph and Daniel and Bruno and Steve. And so many lady players this year! It was so great to see so much female participation with Eria and Charlotte and Sabine and Estelle (of course, Estelle...). I'll try not to sound condescending, but I'm used to playing at a table with a member or two of the distaff...women enjoy adventure, too, after all...and this was the most I've seen (or had the chance to play with) at Cauldron in three years. Great to see the womenfolk throwing down with the boys...I love that!

All the faces, old and new: this is what I'm going to miss next year. I knew, going in, that I would not be coming back in 2027. Just far too much on the schedule (school-wise/kid-wise) next October. I knew that it would be two years (at least!) before I'd have a chance to get back to Cauldron. But six 4+ hour sessions of high intensity gaming and three Chainmail battles...well, coupled with my sporadic home games, that should be enough to slake my gaming thirst for a little while. Maybe even for two years, if I can get a little bi-weekly thing going. Maybe.

But not seeing you folks? Any of you? For two years?

Heck, at least in 2024 I was able to share a beer and a burger with Prince in Amsterdam (and what did we talk about? The upcoming Cauldron that I would not be attending that year). Do I need to swing by Budapest in '27 and visit the Magyar horde?

As I said: I'm beginning to feel like the draw of Cauldron is not (first and foremost) the gaming.

*sigh*

Yet more sentimentality...jeez-louise. This is what happens when you're on the backside of 50, kids. You get all mushy about stuff. I'm certainly not talking about GAMES anymore...time to bring today's Cauldron discussion to a close!

Mm. I got nothing.

I've got TWO more posts planned/in the works. One will be about Iceland. The other will be about the tournament module. After that, this blog will be back to business as usual (whatever that means).

I'll leave off with the same words Setti gave me as I left. "You know what you mean to us," he said.

Yes. And I hope you all know what you mean to me.

Later.

One more trinket from
the crafty crafters at Cauldron.

Cauldron Day 3: Battle Fatigue

Serious gaming can take a toll on you, depending on how intense it is. Running the same scenario more than once, or a single long scenario (say six hours instead of three) isn’t the same as running multiple scenarios in which you, as the DM, have to reset, reorient, and refocus to a new premise, a new situation, and new player characters. Doing it over and over again, over multiple days, can be grueling. Usually, at the end of a three-day Cauldron, I’m checking into a hotel and sleeping for 20 hours before boarding a plane back to Seattle. The jet lag, the short turnaround, and the copious amounts of alcohol probably don’t help much.

This year, though, Day 3 wasn’t bringing breakfast, a last session, and a welcome respite. No. I had a whole ‘nother 24 hours of gaming. Got up, showered, dressed, and off to breakfast before my first morning session. Stretching exercises and deep breathing was having less impact and a diminishing rate of return.

Saturday Block I: Horn of the Eye

When I was a kid…and I mean, waaaay back, before I played AD&D proper…I wrote an adventure I called “Labyrinth of the Beholder.” It was a typical, kid-type adventure: a big mess of a maze, with plenty of funhouse monsters sitting in rooms ready to get killed and looted. At the center of the adventure, waiting like Theseus’s minotaur, was a beholder…taken from my first Monster Manual, despite the fact that we were still playing B/X and had yet to realize AD&D was a different thing (we thought “Expert D&D” and “Advanced D&D” were the same, you see?). It was one of the highlight adventures of my early DMing career, meaning it gave both me and my players some memorable stories. As a teenager, I’d tried to recreate it like a 'real AD&D adventure module,' but while I drew the map (I still have the map, actually), my endurance with writing modules was pretty thin in those days. I found a page (along with the map) that had three encounter write-ups (by hand, in pencil)…all pretty terrible. That’s as far as I got.

This year, I decided I’d recreate the thing…as a location in my campaign world. Kind of a Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth if Iggwilv was still kicking around the Prime Plane…and if she were a beholder, getting regular tribute from the locals. Set in the Seven Devils mountain range of (western) Idaho, I wrote it up and playtested the thing back in April with my kids right before Spencer left for his chef job in Japan. It was a great success and, while it ended in a TPK, it actually felt a little soft to me…a full party of eight players, avoiding bone-head mistakes (like purposefully antagonizing a pyrohydra) would probably succeed where my own group had failed miserably.

Or so I thought.

This one’s your typical, “iconic” (sterotyped) subterranean cavern complex, with lava lakes and fungi forests (is there a bottomless pit? I might have left that trope out, but it would definitely fit). Flinds (from the Fiend Folio) are the main minion of the beholder (who has a name, but I’m not going to look it up right now since I’m not wearing my reading glasses as I type this anyway)..he also has a fire giant lieutenant, there are a couple trap rooms, various other minions of a lawful evil bent. There’s a grell in one part which I found to be fairly useless in play-testing…I left it in anyway because, you know, grell.

The party was well-organized and advanced cautiously after descending a couple hundred feet in a lift of brass and iron. Past the stone causeway (wide enough to drive a wagon) over a lake of magma. Surprised the first guard post, murdered the hell out of everybody, then sent the thief ahead into (what turned out to be) the den of a pyrohydra. Uh-oh.

Full retreat not fast enough, party dropped a portcullis on the thing and then butchered it, but the thief player needed a new character (duh). More caution, then started wandering the wing populated by the flind minions. Three more fights and a lot of dead flinds later, they picked up a nice treasure chest and a couple magic items including a ring of fire resistance…handy in a land of lava pools. Good play from the party included ample and strategic use of a scarab on enraging enemies.

Good mapping (yes, Charlotte, the mapping was good) allowed the players to find their way back to the hydra den where they stashed the chest before proceeding back into uncharted territory. Avoided the wing with the fire giant, fortuitously skirted another flind guard post (thus avoiding an alarm) before finding themselves at yet another cavern filled with lava, this one with tall stones of basalt allowing for crossing…in single-file only. Sent the new thief (I think) forward only to have his way barred by four salamanders rising from the lava…no attacks, just questioning, but he didn’t speak salamander and he decided to back off, unmolested. Fighter/magic-user put on the ring of fire resistance and used comprehend languages to converse and understand their speech (even though he couldn’t speak it). Figured out they were asking what tribute the party was bringing to their lord and master and that they’d better have something good or they wouldn’t be allowed to continue.

Magic-user, meanwhile, was turning invisible in order to scout ahead. F/MU came back, gave the MU his ring who then dashed across the columns, unbeknownst to the salamanders (I should note…and I explained this to the players…that hanging out on the path where the temperature of the lava is around 1200 degrees centigrade causes the equivalent of a heat metal spell if you dilly-dally more than one round inside the cavern). Magic-user found a trap down a side passage beyond the cavern…a deadfall that crushed the hell out of him…but he managed to stagger back to his companions for some much needed healing

A bunch of confusion at this point, with a lot of players voting to do different things. The halfling decided to use his oil of etherealness for more hardcore scouting. Fighter/magic-user wanted to fly to the other side of the cavern (over the salamanders heads), while half the party was considering making a sprint to the other side and/or fighting the creatures. The invisible magic-user took the scarab of enraging enemies that they had used to wipe out the larger flind mobs and moved out into the middle of the path, figuring he would use cone of cold (while still invisible) if the scarab didn’t do its job. He had to go to the middle of the path because of the range of the magic item (4")...about halfway out.

[the use of the scarab was not an attack that would end invisibility]

The scarab only worked on one salamander who was promptly dispatched by its comrades. Declaring actions, the cleric decided it was now time to make a mad dash to the other side, while the magic-user declared he was casting cone of cold. The cleric ran into the invisible magic-user (overbearing attacks) and knocked the wizard into the lava while knocking himself down; he was then grabbed by a salamander tail and constricted. The fighter and ranger next raced out to help (in single file), only to be subsequently grabbed as well. Having no resistance to heat, after two rounds of constriction the heated metal of their helmets caused both warriors to succumb to unconsciousness, while the cleric simply died.

The F/MU next cast charm monster on the lead salamander, which was then attacked by its comrades while the dwarf, having already imbibed a potion of speed, shuttled unconscious companions back to the safety of the cavern entrance. The lead salamander slew a companion before being slain himself, and the party was able to polish off the last one with (I believe) the dwarf...the latter having removed his helmet. Unfortunately, he still sustained severe, disabling burns to his body for the rounds of melee he spent in combat with the thing.

In the meantime, the halfling finally went ethereal (the oil not taking effect till three rounds after application), and decided to scout ahead while the party waited for their companions to recover from their heat-induced comas. I tracked the duration of the potion and he spent so long wandering the caverns on the other side that his etherealness eventually wore off…just as he managed to stumble his way into the beholder’s presence. Somehow, with a quick wit and a “00” reaction roll, the halfling was able to convince the beholder that he was an envoy of the dragon queen sent to broker an alliance based on tribute, slaves, and monument erected to the beholder’s greatness. This was deemed sufficient by the Eye Tyrant and the character was allowed to leave, taking the beholder's message of acceptance back to Tiamat. “Don’t get eaten by the [black] pudding on your way out!” it called after him.

He found his way back, explained what happened to the party, and they all decided to get the hell out of Dodge, retrieving their small chest of treasure on the way. A very nice run, in my opinion.

[EDIT: Lutz, aka Der Oger, was my nod for Most Valuable Player]

Saturday Block II: Jewel of Demogorgon

Time for a little more "personal history:" as a child, before I’d ever held or seen a D&D book of any kind, we used to “play D&D” at recess, pretending to be “fighters,” “assassins,” and “magic-users”, arguing over who got to wield “Blackrazor,” and fighting “Demogorgon.” Once I discovered that this D&D game was an honest-to-goodness, real thing...and after I had my own copy of Basic D&D and the Monster Manual and knew what an adventure module was (thanks B2!), I asked my friends (the ones who had first hipped me to this D&D concept) if they knew of any adventure that contained the Prince of Demons. They said, yeah, there was one called something like “Revenge of Demogorgon.” I spent many years looking for this module before deciding it probably didn’t really exist.

For Cauldron, I wanted to run a high-level adventure, and decided that I would craft my own version of this fable…something I probably should have done years before. However, for the life of me I couldn’t come up with any legitimate reason why Demogorgon would want “revenge” on a group of snot-nosed adventurers so, instead, I penned what amounts to a high level "heist" scenario.

As with Sky Fortress, this adventure was only finished in the last few days before I left for Cauldron; it was never play-tested. When I first decided to do it, I had expected it to be the capstone piece for my seven-adventure mini-campaign. I’d also planned on running it in the Saturday Night block where there is no four-hour time limit. Now, however, I had it slated for the afternoon session with the idea that, if it proved to be too long, I could continue to run it after dinner in the Night block…a two-parter, in other words.

First thing’s first: as I sat down at my table after lunch, I was surprised by a player (Theo) passing through asking if I was going to join their game since no one had signed up for my session. What?! This was exceptionally odd, as (to this point) all my tables had been full. What the heck had happened?

I went down to check the sign-up sheet and it was nowhere to be found. Thought that was pretty odd…until a helpful person informed me that session sheets with no takers were simply removed out of the assumption the DM would withdraw their offering.

[later, I had at least one or two people tell me they would have LIKED to play in my game but they felt it was “too high level” and they did not have enough experience playing to feel comfortable. 12th is too high? Sheesh!]

In the end I did have a few players…five or six…who took pity on my empty table and allowed me to run Jewel. I thought the adventure played pretty well, but it was very difficult for the number of players we had…the Abyss is no joke, even for characters in the 12th-14th level range. That being said, it WAS quite long, especially as the premise was tricky to explain, and we had to do some re-calculations of armor class and whatnot due to magic items being less functional on the outer planes. Still: we made it roughly halfway through the adventure, even with a pair of novice players in the group, and when I offered to run it after dinner, they all agreed to come back (except for Ghoul, who was running his own adventure in the Saturday Night block). 

So…I guess not everyone was tired of dying in my games?

Puts hair on your chest.

Final feast/dinner and the annual auction followed, and this was a great time, as always, with much generosity of spirit (and currency) all around. Bidding was fierce, as was the drinking, and my favorite local spirit (a bottle of Rainier Mountain Fresh Gin) was popular enough that I only consumed a third of it myself, the rest being passed around in exchange for palinka, hazelnut liqueur, wine…you know, the usual. I didn’t get any of Estelle’s chartreuse unfortunately (especially disappointing as she ended up at my gaming table afterwards!) but perhaps next year. On to the Night Block!

Saturday Block III: Jewel of Demogorgon (cont.)

I actually ended up with six players at the table after I’d had five (-ish?) at the previous session…just not as many DMs were running games that night (only seven in fact, although one was Bruno’s 23-player OD&D extravaganza) and players were looking for empty seats. I did my big table last year, but I find it tough to run AD&D with the same amount of proficiency and attention I like when there are more than eight participants. Hell, seven is about the perfect amount, but eight gives you extra bodies to slay…you lose one or two PCs from a 6-7 party and the game can quickly go all “death spiral” on you. In my experience.

But, hey, I’m being coy, and I know it. I don’t really want to say anything about my Demogorgon adventure because I actually REALLY like it…and the thing needs some fine-tuning. Despite the map fitting on a single page (unlike most of my dungeons this year), it’s pretty beefy, pretty elaborate. No, the Prince of Demons does not actually make an appearance (unless the players do something very, very wrong) but I really like how I decided to handle the Abyss, and this particular layer. Also, the scenario itself...breaking into a Demon Prince’s stronghold while he’s away, hoping to loot his “Hoard of Spite” without getting caught...is a good one. Spoiler Alert: the players did not find the Hoard (although they got all the way to Demo's audience chamber: a heroic feat in and of itself) but, even if they had, I don’t know if the juice would have been worth the squeeze. As I said, the adventure needs fine-tuning. It was a really ambitious design and I needed more time with it than what I actually took.

Saturday night, I called the game at what I thought was a pretty decent stopping point, but there hadn’t been enough treasure (by my standards) up till that point (I’ll work on it). Plus, let’s be honest: I was pretty hammered by the time we were finishing up, and it had to be after 3am (or 4). I packed my bags, found Prince and Soren embroiled in their usual, last night political discussion, and got into it with them, continuing well into the wee hours of the morning in our usual, jovial fashion. 

And I mean…wow. For once I saw the backside of Prince staggering away (he’s usually the last man standing at these events). But then I looked at my watch and saw the local time was 5:40am, I realized I might have made a BAD mistake. I headed off to bed, in as straight a line as I could walk. 

Not very straight.

[Jewel of Demogorgon may well may make another appearance at a future Cauldron; if it does, it will be in an updated and upgraded format]

[oh, and one last MVP nod...Walid, sometimes called "the Cruel," was my nomination for this round, with his good use of a robe of scintillating colors helping the party immensely]

Cauldron Day 2: Major Combat Operations

Friday morning, I was awakened by my alarm. Brushed my teeth, showered, downed a ketones supplement I’d brought along to deal with jet lag (not sure it helped…my first time trying it), did some morning stretches, and went outside to breathe deeply of the cool, moist, German air. Truth be told, I was finally feeling like THIS IS CAULDRON…excitement high, but adrenaline in check.

It was just about then that I thought, “Oh my God, this is only Day 2.” There would be another full day before the closing ceremonies on Sunday.

Grabbed some breakfast, took my morning coffee. First carafe of decaf placed into my hands. Placed that at my table (back in the Oak room this year), then back to my quarters to fetch my kit for the morning’s session. Coming back, the queue to sign up for games was already humongous. Better them than me, I thought (forgetting I’d be doing the same later that day). Up to my table and waited for the first group of players.

Friday Block I: Blackrazor Tournament Cup

Once again, I wrote a tournament scenario for Cauldron, a duty and honor that I’ve come to take seriously (although it is a plenty enjoyable pastime). I’m going to discuss the writing of the thing in detail in a separate post (to be published at the end of this series) which may or may not help make more sense of the following:

A good cast of players sat down…the full eight (the max number per the scenario rules). Prince of Nothing was present, do doubt trying to acquit himself from the sheer humiliation of last year’s fiasco (not that they did BAD per se, but it’s never good when you cause the DM to break down in tear-streaked laughter…at your expense). This time the play was…well, it got off to a rough start, in fact prompting the group to do the equivalent of a “hard reset,” retreating back OUTSIDE the parameters of the scenario in order to heal and collect themselves before pressing on.

While this could have proved disastrous in terms of scoring (due to the tournament time limits) they found their footing and made it all the way to the end succeeding, more or less, as best they could. A very good score indeed, and one that all the players could be proud of. By this point, I’d already received word from DMs running the scenario that TPKs were indeed a possibility (two had occurred). But admirable work, Ken being pretty great as the more-or-less take charge leader (despite having “never played an actual 1E bard before”) and Sabine being my nod as “player of the match;” without her, the TPK would definitely have been in play at my table.

My future post on the tournament will discuss the adventure in detail with spoilers and all that jazz.

We adjourned to lunch (delicious as usual), where DM discussions were had about the appropriateness of rulings with regard to shambling mounds and rings of free action. Guess what: everyone was on my side, so suck it, Prince.

; )

Friday Block II: Assault On Sky Fortress

Hoo-boy. An un-tested adventure getting its first run at Cauldron. Would it even fit into a four-hour time slot?

As I have detailed (many, many times) in the past, I have a love/hate relationship with DragonLance. As a series of novels, it is “o.k.” (for pulp, D&D-based fantasy of a cheap variety). As a series of adventure modules, it has some decent ideas, but the execution of its ideas are often lacking. And THAT, my friends, is being generous.

The module cover art, however, can be particularly inspiring…even when it has zero to do with the adventure found inside said cover. DL4 is one such adventure, showing a band of heroes on horseback fleeing before a flying citadel…one of the “doomsday weapons” supporting the armies of the Queen of Darkness.

My adventure uses this cool
cover art. The module? Not so much.

Except, of course, that’s not what you get in DL4. Instead, you go into the depths a dwarven mine/kingdom looking for a “floating tomb,” its map based on said portrait, in order to locate an ancient dwarven artifact weapon (the Hammer of Kharas) that, rather than retain, you turn over to the dwarves in exchange for letting some human refugees ride out the winter in a subterranean cave. Typical Hickman BS goody-good story-crap. And it’s BAD, too. The “dungeon”…the tomb…has all of ONE monster in it: a mischievous gold dragon who just f’s with the PCs while they dink around with non-fatal “traps” and basically risk no danger besides silly humiliations. It’s a token adventure designed to waste the time of real humans (i.e. the players) by forcing them to jump through hoops in aid of “telling a good story.”

[please note: none of this adventure is present in the novels…it is simply side-barred (“oh, we did this”)…probably because it’s so damn stupid]

I don’t like stupid. So I took the maps from DL4, re-drew them, and made it into an ACTUAL flying fortress, filled with soldiers (duergar and ogres, mostly) being used in my own campaign world’s “Dragon Queen War.” It’s fucking-A solid…powered by a ‘soul furnace’ that drains the lifeforce of captive slaves for fuel, featuring duergar cleric-assassin clergy, armed to the teeth with ballistae and catapults, piloted by a “Sky Witch,” and (of course) oodles of treasure.

But it’s big…about four levels all told. From the drop bay and cargo holds stacked with loot, up through the barracks level, outdoor gatehouses filled with ogres, crennelated overlooks with siege weapons, harpy roosts (for shock troops) and an adult blue dragon sitting up on the topmost “walk” (and guarding the Sky Captain’s chair)…I mean, it is decent, solid D&D, and it was the LAST thing I finished writing as I was overcoming my illness. Had it all finished up by Monday night, and scanned the maps on Tuesday. It was one of the adventures I’d planned to have my son play in (for the first time) at the con.

In a campaign setting (where I would normally use it…PCs looking for trouble and treasure in the war ravaged lands along the Washington/Idaho border), I would have given players great leeway to figure out how they would get onto the damn thing. We don’t have that kind of luxury of time in a convention setting. Instead, the adventure would begin in media res, the PCs having managed to hijack the lift from the drop bay and putting them already aboard, in the bowels of the Sky Fortress. Their main advantage would be the element of surprise: all the Castle’s forces were focused OUTWARDS, looking for exterior threats (flyers, etc.) or keeping a watch for the next village/town to pillage/raid. So long as the PCs could stay hidden (or kill whoever they came across), they would have a fairly large amount of freedom to explore the place

Unfortunately…

There’s this thing with players (often) where they feel that to “win” a dungeon they need to eliminate every threat on the board, rather than focus on the important and/or prime targets. Three encounters in, they took a captive…a none-too-sane duergar…who more or less gave them all the info they needed. How the thing was piloted. Where they could find the pilot. How they could get to the pilot, etc. But then they went about attempting to eliminate ever watch post on the lower level. And they ended up letting a duergar escape.

[not too hard when one considers duergar have the ability to use psionic invisibility and reduction, and while the PCs were high enough level that the low-level dwarves couldn't blind them, the guy that escaped was a 4th level sergeant-type]

At which point they then started moving slowly. Cautiously. A step-by-step approach to exploration. Whereas the dwarf was traveling as fast as he could to alert the various (four) levels of the castle. By the time the party got to the top of the main thru-way tower (that connected all four levels) and sent the thief up by himself (in order to die? I guess…because that’s what happened), the jig was all but up. They avenged the thief with a necklace of missiles, sent their zombie hit squad (animated from dead dwarves) up to finish the job, then exited the tower only to find two ranks of dwarves and ogres (along with a large ballista) trained on them. They would have found similar strong points set up on three of the four castle levels.

Now in pure crisis mode, the party started getting creative. Holed up in the tower, they set glyphs of warding and invited an ambush of their own for the inevitable assault squad that came to batter down the door. All good, and fire and blood was soon flowing. However, rather than pursue the survivors in flight, they pulled up short and started setting even LARGER wards on the surface level march (check the casting time in the PHB for details, considering a 20'x20' square area) thinking they could work the same trick instead. Which gave time for the blue dragon to come into play. Uh-oh.

Some characters ran; others attempted to stay and fight…everyone was focused on the looming blue threat in the air. Which allowed the “Sky Witch” to hit several PCs with a fireball, at which point it officially became a route. A quick illusion from the magic-user fooled the dragon into believing the catapults were firing of their own volition (at it) forcing the beast to re-position and buying the remaining party members valuable time, but it was all over save for the shooting. I suppose I could have brought dwarf reinforcements up from below (rallied by the castellan) and sandwiched them; instead I figured the duergar would take it cautious, giving the PCs time to escape…if they wanted. Those with potions of levitation and whatnot took the hint and vacated the Sky Fortress, survival (at least) being accomplished.

[Michael Sipior was my "man of the match" for this session]

[EDIT: I have just been informed that I actually nominated Chomy for my most valuable contributor; odd, when I specifically sought out Michael at dinner to get his last name! Both players played well, and an honorable mention to Iudex for keeping cool-headed (and sneaky) in the face of bad odds]

Time for dinner. Suckling pig falling off the bone was the highlight of Friday. By the time I’d cleaned up my gear upstairs there was precious little left…still, people allowed me a chance to eat and I did and it was delicious. A worthy feast…as always...and wonderful to break bread with the delightful humans who attend Cauldron.

Drawback though: I was last in line for registering for a night game. Already booked was Settembrini’s high level Army of Madness game; so, too, was gone The Sunken Redoubt of the Serpentine Lich (Ignatius Umlaut), For a Fistful of Scrolls (Der Ogre), and even the OD&D game Slug House (Daniel Hertz)…and I couldn’t play in my own tournament adventure (sorry, Grutz), nor was I going to do Sonke’s adventure that he was running in German.

However, there WAS one spot open on a little scenario I’d been considering: Ghoul’s naval Chainmail battle. Boats. We were doing war-gaming again, but this time it would be boats.

Friday Block III: The Hermetian Crusade Naval Wargame

I’ve had a “thing” for war galleys ever since I read the naval warfare rules (Chapter 9) in my Cook/Marsh Expert rulebook, circa 1982. I used to run my own naval battles, just to see how the thing worked…perhaps because I’ve had a lifelong fascination with galley slaves and ship-to-ship catapults and ramming/boarding actions. I don’t know. Too many imported Italian “B” movies as a kid. I never used the naval rules when I ran AD&D in my youth, finding all the stuff about wind and tacking far too beyond my adolescent brain (and finding too many other things in AD&D that entertained), but when I acquired my first copy of OD&D (circa ‘87 or ’88) I again dove into the world of solo play with pirates and flaming pitch and grappling hooks.

Ghoul would seem to share my obsession…however, he’s gone ahead and adapted the AD&D system to Chainmail, specifically with regard to naval rules (there aren’t any in Chainmail, by the way), to make a fun, playable system based on the Germans’ “Sarissa” compilation. It’s good and it’s fun and we had a blast.

The scenario pitted two teams of four players against each other. I was teamed on the evil side this time (huzzah!) playing a turncoat pirate with a large galley (beefy, filled to the brim with marines, and sporting two heavy catapults) in the service of some necromancer or other. Most of the players got two ships…I only had one; however, I was also allowed to play a mercenary BLUE DRAGON hired by the necromancer to bolster his forces. Huh-freaking-zah!

Each of us also received “secret orders;” extra victory conditions we could achieve if we played our cards right. For the dragon, he was told he needed to sink at least one good guy ship to fulfill his contract. My pirate, on the other hand, had the “victory” condition that, if he got within 2” of a good guy ship without any of his bad guys around him, he’d switch sides! What the hell?!

I asked the ref, Ghoul, is our objective here to fulfill our secret victory conditions OR was it to win the battle. He said, “Well, everyone wants to end up on the winning side at the end.” Oh boy. I decided I was going to do my best to NOT shift sides, and simply win this thing for my own team…or die trying. Plus, I was tired of playing good guys and getting my ass handed to me (see the prior day’s Chainmail events).

Unfortunately, I was now several beers in (aren't I always?) and my teammates were getting all lily-livered on me. They were conversing all this strategy about setting up a blockade or horizontal maneuver or…I don’t know, something…that basically amounted to hang-back-and-let-the-enemy-come-to-us. Which is not my modus operandi. I am an impatient, full steam ahead kind of guy. When I play WH40K, I play Khorne. And I play ALL Khorne...I don’t pussy-foot around.

Plus, I had a serious advantage with my units. First off, the dragon was a beast (no pun intended) with super good speed, a three-use breath weapon that could be devastating, and the ability to break the morale of any ship within 10” of him. And my big ol’ galley had two heavy catapults with a HUGE range of 24” that (per Ghoul's rules) was NOT measured until after distances were declared. In other words: eyeball the distance and call your shot. Not the easiest thing, right?

Except I’m an American, and I loves me my inches.

We started. Secretly, each captain declared how much whip they were giving to the galley slaves to see the number of 3” moves their ships could travel. My compatriots started out conservative, with a pair of moves each. I declared my galley was double-timing it at max speed and jumped out to a big lead. My teammates looked at me oddly, but didn’t say much more than mumble. The dragon followed along at the same pace, since it could move 12” per round.

Next round, same thing: everyone goes conservative; I start outdistancing everyone. There is now some visible panic in the ranks; my teammates are coming up to me individually and asking “Um, do you remember the plan?” and “What’s up here, dude?” I tell them to just trust me, I know what I’m doing, consolidate the fleet on the right flank (I was on the left). They think I’m friggin’ out of my mind or (more likely) drunk and looking for an early exit to bed.

Actually, I found out later that this whole battle was part of their on-going campaign and several of the players on my side KNEW my captain was a turn-coat and might betray them and they strongly suspected this was exactly what I was doing. Seems they didn’t trust me any farther then they could throw me. Ah, well.

Next turn, I eyeballed the distance and went to half oar. The enemy flagship came right within my max range and I launched the first heavy catapult during the artillery face…square onto his main deck. Everyone cheered my excellent shooting as I took their leader down to half his hull points, positioning my dragon for the coup de grace in the next round. Meanwhile, the good guys had brought most of their fleet over to towards my side (hoping to sink me without any of my allies around to help me out), leaving a quarter of their fleet to the mercy of three-quarters of ours…and MOST of the ships that were threatening me didn’t have the range to pepper me with their catapults. I could steer backwards at the same rate as I’d gone forward, firing as I went, and staying out of range. I had full confidence I would sink the opposing flagship in the next turn.

Ah, well. The best laid plans and yadda-yadda….

The captain of the flagship was Keith Sloan, an old Navy man and an American himself. His shooting was just as accurate as mine (or nearly so) and he damaged me with his heavy catapult as well. He also had a wizard aboard that summoned an elemental, locking my dragon in combat…I would not be able to fire on his ship until I dealt with the evil spirit! Even worse, however, was my own bungling…I reversed oar, and counted their advance, but when we got to the firing part of the next turn’s sequence, I SECOND GUESSED MYSELF. Not more than two seconds before we were to declare ranges for catapult fire, I scratched off “22” and wrote “23” inches for distance (I was firing my aft heavy). I over-shot Keith’s flagship by a half inch. What’s more, I thought his flagship had the same armament as myself…not so. He had THREE additional heavies he could fire to my one. Two shots hit and my pirate galley went down to Davy Jones’ locker.

I was pissed. At myself. And, to be honest, I felt like a bum. Hubris, pure and simple, led me to act in my usual impetuous fashion, and now my teammates were without one of their capital ships. I attempted to quit the game for bed right there, but they pointed out I could still play the dragon, which seemed a small consolation at that point (yet another reason I hadn't wanted to switch sides...I would have lost control of the dragon). With Big Blue locked up, I felt like I’d just cost my team a quarter of their forces. Plus, the good guys hit the board with some sort of sacred narwhale monster that was now engaging the rest of the fleet…bad news all around!

I grabbed another bottle to go with the glass from the keg upstairs (at this point I was drinking beer like water) and settled in to finish as long as I could stand. Fortunately, my teammates pulled my fat out of the fire by counter-spelling the elemental and freeing up the dragon. I returned the favor by zooming over the massed ships of the enemy and breaking morale on all but one of them, including the flagship. Suddenly, my wretched humiliation had the smell of victory! Without morale, the ships were essentially useless: unable to row, unable to fire artillery, unable to fight in boarding actions. The hero aboard one ship continued to fire arrows at Big Blue, but his aim was wretched, and I went about setting fire to helpless ships. Meanwhile, the necromancer’s fleet had slain the Last Unicorn….erm Holy Narwhale…and sent a cloudkill spell to drift across the sea at the helpless, fear-wracked ships of the Goody-Goods!

At this point, success was completely assured…so much so that my teammates were already counting the money they’d received (in their campaign) for the captured ships of the Hermetians. In a fit of delightful spite, Keith took his hero’s ship (the flagship had already been sunk), and rammed it into one of the morale-crushed ships, refusing to withdraw his ram and, thus, scuttling both rather than leaving them as loot. I wanted to burn down the last remaining ship with my dragon (in order to fulfill his “secret victory” condition), but the referee informed us that our triumph was indeed complete and that we could officially end the battle. I was also told that this was NOT a good outcome for their campaign and would have serious repercussions for some players. Um…sorry?

I headed to bed, content that I'd done enough damage for one day.

Cauldron Day 1: First Salvos & Enemy Contact

Some people use the first day of Cauldron to start slow, to rest (from travel pains) before easing into the maelstrom of gaming. Remaking the acquaintance of old friends, catching up, relaxing with a beer or tea, etc…these are all valid ways to approach a convention that can test one’s endurance over the normal three-day span, let alone the four days that was this year’s Cauldron.

But I’m an idiot who loves trouble. I go hard from the get-go.

Thursday Block One: Blood on Blizzard Pass

One of these days, I’ll get my shit together and have my own sign-up list so that I can make note of all the players names, perhaps take a picture of their faces so that I can remember everyone by the end of this con. As it is, my memory is a tad hazy when it comes to Day 1. Please forgive.

Module M1: Blizzard Pass is an old TSR solo module that I’ve owned since I was a kid of age 9 or 10. Long ago, I lost the “special pen” that allowed me to decode the 'invisible text' boxes, designed to allow solo play, having never actually “solved” or “won” the adventure, despite (probably) cheating when it came to dice rolls. However, I’ve kept it all these years because A) I’m a nostalgic packrat that tends to keep everything, AND (more importantly) B) it includes a standard “group dungeon” in the back based on the solo dungeon that is the bulk of the module. The group adventure is a single level of eleven encounters and it’s just about perfect for an introductory, low-level (suggested 2nd-3rd level PCs) adventure. I’ve run it four or five times over the years, always with good success.

But I’ve never run it for AD&D.

Now, I realize there are some who’ll say B/X and AD&D are similar enough that adventures for one are (largely) interchangeable with the other. I do not share that opinion. Despite their similarities, they function differently and have their own cadence and rhythm to them, because of the specifics of their systems. You can play an AD&D adventure using the B/X system, but you will end up cutting out a lot of the “AD&D-isms” that make the game what it is. I find the experience flat (to say the least); meanwhile, running a B/X adventure in AD&D is nearly always a cakewalk, because AD&D PCs are so much more robust than their B/X counterparts. What seems like an “appropriate challenge” for PCs of a certain level simply isn’t…and you will end up modifying on-the-fly (or letting players walk all over your dungeon) if you play the thing straight. Not really a good time.

So, I needed to modify the adventure for AD&D. Removed were the hypnotic-eye “rock toads” of the frozen cavern…in their place were man-eating ice toads from the Monster Manual. Likewise the half-starved “white apes” held in the Master’s cage were replaced with a half-starved brown bear…far more appropriate considering the adventure is set in the Blue Mountains of southeastern Washington. Finally, in addition to updating the human NPCs (evil clerics and fighters) to AD&D versions of equivalent level, the Master’s pet and “escape guard” (a giant shrew) had to be removed, for multiple reasons: it doesn’t appear in AD&D, it’s a little over-powered, it doesn’t really “make sense” in terms of the scenario/environment. In its place, I put a pair of ghouls, whom the Master could easily control by dint of his evil ambiance. Treasure was already about right, fortunately.

Good starter adventure.

Originally, this was to be the “opening salvo” of my mini-campaign…something to start the 3rd levels off with in hopes of getting them up to 4th. Later, when I shortened my program to just the five sessions, I kept this one in because my son is well familiar with it (he played it in his younger years, and has run it for his friends, in the B/X version), and running it in the first slot would give him an opportunity to sleep and recover from flight, while I got into my groove. Now, however…well, at least I picked something easy to run.

The premise of the scenario is simple as simple can be. Players are your typical mercenaries heading east out of Walla Walla into the sketchier towns that border the Idaho Deathlands, looking for work and profit in the midst of the Dragon Queen War (my re-tooled, sandbox version of Dragon Lance). Crossing the Blue Mountain range, they are separated from their caravan during a sudden snow storm, only to find them again (after the storm has passed) completely wiped out by bandits. Players track the bandits back to their lair; hilarity ensues.

Very good play from the players…at first. In each session, the DM was supposed to nominate one player as the person who had “done the most to help the group succeed." I cannot remember who I nominated for this first one. Maybe Butch? Or, more probably, the dude playing the party cleric (and I honestly can’t remember who that was). Ah, well…it was a long convention.

[EDIT: Michael ("Schibbi") was the player I nominated]

Anyway. They were able to completely surprise the ogre who guards the entrance to the bandits’ cave lair. Ogre can be tricked (I’ve also seen him charmed to good effect in B/X…that doesn’t work in AD&D). In this case, they simply cast silence 15’ radius on him and that murdered the hell out of the guy. Into the cave they went, where they encountered a handful of armed men and a cage full of trained wolves.

Combat ensued. The wolf cage was opened, but the cleric held it at bay using speak with animal (one of the more useful spells in the low-level cleric repertoire). That kept the wolves at bay until they finished off the men (keeping one as a hostage), and negotiated with the wolves to leave them in peace. Easy-peasy.

The captive spilled his guts but was in mortal fear of “the Master” who (to be clear) is a pretty dastardly fellow, feeding people to his pet ghouls and whatnot. The prisoner did not reveal this (or anything else) about the Master, but did give up the numbers of the bandits and where they might be located and what was beyond (goblins and such). However, before the party could get on with the murdering, the party’s elf managed to locate a secret door “just in passing” (oh, AD&D!), and the players decided better murdering might lurk beyond.

Although the killing would be on the other foot.

The module indicates that the Master, upon hearing battle out in the main room, will prepare an ambush for the players, along with his ogre bodyguard. Uh-oh. So it was the players sneaked into an area (well, the thief was sneaking) that had already been rigged with its own silence 15’ radius spell.

The thief was partially surprised and immediately bludgeoned to death by a clubbing from the ogre. As I said, hilarity ensued. PCs rushed through the door and engaged the ogre. Spell-casters attempted spells only to find they had no line of sight and/or they were in the silenced area. Meanwhile, the Master used hold person to good effect. More PCs downed, including the ranger if I remember aright.

However, the party was large (I maxed my tables at eight and we indeed had a full table), and they were able to push through. His bodyguard felled and himself wounded, the Master pulled two levers: one opening an “escape (trap) door,” the other opening the cage to the half-starved bear who will attack good guy and bad guy alike. Pretty sure it mauled the cleric dead, but again this was many days ago. However, we had a second cleric with speak animal, who stepped up and convinced the bear into not killing them and only eating the corpses. The bear had no interest in the dead ogre meat (“Smells bad”) but they sweetened the pot by adding the captive bandit to the mix and Mr. Bear agreed. Who says you have to fight everything to the death?

They then investigated the escape tunnel. “Better send the (other) thief down first.” Good idea. Thief was surprised, hit about six times by the ghouls lurking in the escape tunnel and torn to shreds. “Oh crap…he’s the PC who’s been carrying all the treasure we’ve found so far!” A hair-brained plan to retrieve the thief’s body was concocted, with the cleric and fighter being lowered via ropes. Initiative was won, the ghouls were turned, and the money retrieved.

Dinner at this point being ready (the first session was a short, three-hour session) we called the game there. Good warm up. Dinner was good, and also two hours long. I ate well, then went and had a nap. I could only sleep about 15-20 minutes. Damn jet lag.

Thursday Block II: Chainmail European Championship

Sixteen players in eight teams had pre-registered for what was being billed as the first Chainmail World Cup. As the USA in soccer's first World Cup (in Uruguay) I was proud to represent my country…also (like the USA) I doubted I would ever again see a top 8 finish once the WC expanded to more than eight teams.

Pairings, assigned scenarios, and sides/forces were all assigned randomly. We would be playing by “Swiss” tournament rules (double elimination, basically). I, of course, drew the most brutal draw possible (hello, Argentina!).

Eria is Settembrini’s wife. During the convention, she appears to spend the majority of time running and organizing the volunteers that make Cauldron function. Despite the stress of making such a complicated thing happen behind the scenes, I never see her terribly flustered, upset, or agitated. Maybe she is just German and registers the stress differently from us melodramatic Americans? I don’t know…I find her exceptionally kind, warm, and generous. She it is who brought me my decaf coffee the first day (she delegated this duty to others the rest of Cauldron). Her children are exceptionally helpful and well-behaved and she and Setti seem to have their shit down as far as being a family/team.

She would be my first opponent, along with her elder son Johannes ("Valez"). The kid, about 18 years of age, is a chip off the old block. He runs con games (in German), probably the youngest of the Dungeon Masters. Last year, he was awarded the Most Valuable Player trophy by the other convention-goers. He has obviously inherited his father’s passion for wargaming, and took everything very seriously. Eria, on the other hand, is credited with having play-tested every single scenario. My understanding is that each was run many times before the convention, ironing out the kinks.

Did I mention that Setti kind of spear-heads the whole “Chainmail revival” thing? And that he has re-written and codified the rules (in two volume form) along wih LKH, Ghoul, and Dreadlord (Mitch)? Uh-huh.

Plus, I’m staring across the gaming table at one of the sweetest, kindest people at the con…the organizer’s wife! Was I supposed to throw this thing?

Of course not: they were demons on the battlefield. Also, the scenario would not be helpful.

Omphalos of the Frog God 

Background: After the victory over adventurers trying to disturb the cloister of the frog-god, Frogmen are on the rise in the area between Badwall and Elredd. An ancient sacred site in the swamps near Silvash is within reach of the growing croaker influence. Elves of the forest and High Elves have answered the call by the local druid responsible for guarding the omphalos on the hill in the moor.

I was selected to play the elves…who had neither magic arrows, nor magic armor/weapons to their name, and who would not be allowed to charge in the swamp; also, the elves would be unable to use invisibility in the scenario due to the presence of frogman “witch doctors.” I did have a druidic shambling mound on my side and an elven hero (“Lady Aurelia”). Against me was arrayed four packs of frogmen and bullywugs, who were allowed to travel within the multiple crossing rivers at 15” movement and who could operate in loose formation (no facing/formation penalties) and who could not be shot with arrows while in the water. In addition, they had the aforementioned witch docs, and a six-figure “Marsh Medusa” archer squad who could out-range all my archers, had no problem charging (like the frogmen), AND petrified creatures that got into melee with them. Also, a hybrid frog-human champion armed with both a magic weapon AND magic armor. All within a 90 minute time limit.

Uh-huh. No problems here.

It was a near thing, but I got my ass handed to me. In the end, my only play was to attempt the secondary victory conditions of destroying the frog shamans (this would enable the elves to gain their invisibility back and secure them an automatic win). And I might have done it, too, but time ran out before I could get into melee combat with them (had to lure them in first and then had to change my formation to get off a damn cliff face). It did not help that while my worthy opponents were exceptionally knowledgeable about the game play (and immensely helped novice me), they dithered terribly when it came to taking their turn, using up valuable clock time that I would have liked to have had. As it was, we finished near 11pm, it was a good game, and I was ready to call it a night, proud that I had managed to stay on my feet (and conscious) throughout the entire game despite drinking six or seven beers during the game.

No such doing. We had to go to Round 2 and the “loser’s bracket.”

This next bit is hazy as I can’t even recall who the hell I played [EDIT: it was Sean and Ollie). But I’ve got the scenario right here; it was a similar “capture the object” objective and this time I’d be playing...the virtuous defenders. Why did they keep making me play the good guys?

Queen Scorpion and the Obelisks of Mana

Near the Oasis of the 8th Medusa, Anubis jackal-men guard the ancient Obelisks of Mana near one of the world’s omphaloi. The evil sorcerer Saublin has crossed the desert with his army of Hobgoblins to conquer this place of eldritch power.

Right. Your basic “hold the line” scenario, except I’d be playing two-fisted jackal men with axes and Khopesh swords in a semi-Egyptian looking desert setting against hobgoblins.

So. Many. Hobgoblins.

I’ll cut to the chase: I lost. To a man. “Queen Scorpion” (an actual giant scorpion, something akin to a demigod) was the last, um, “man” standing. But I just couldn’t kill enough of my enemy. Sean (yes, I now remember my opponent…the “Fight On” team out of Detroit, led by none other than Ignatius Umlaut, himelf) poured his heaps of hobbos onto my champion-caliber guys and, in the end, I was overwhelmed. Eh. I set up poorly. My small unit of archers (nearly as puissant as the Medusae in the first scenario) did a ton of damage, but ended up blocked by mountains. I was later told most jackal players set the archers on a mountain top, whereas I’d attempted to snipe out wargs forced (by the scenario rules) to slake their thirst at the single desert oasis. Live and learn.

So…2:30am? Yeah. About that when we ended. Beers consumed over the course of the Chainmail tournament? I averaged about one per turn taken (mine AND my opponents'). There had been a LOT of turns. I dusted off the bitter taste of back-to-back defeats and hied my beaten ass to bed, one last beer in hand. Next day looked to be another marathon.

[side note: the following rounds of the Chainmail World Cup would be played over the next two days, with the Championship game Saturday afternoon. It came down to Dreadlord/Mitch and Ghoul versus Eria and Valez over the same Queen Scorpion scenario, with Team DreadGhoul taking the "good guy" jackal-men...and getting soundly beaten. Long live the champs, and all that, but man that was a rough outing right out of the gate!]