I’m writing out this combat because I need to practice writing out combat   2 comments

Due to a series of circumstances that can be boiled down to “I am, in fact, constantly lying to myself about my own abilities,” I haven’t taken any anti-depressants for two days. That means that last night, I got my first night of real, true, deep sleep in several weeks. I just took a pill. So who knows how I’ll sleep tonight. But waking up was amazing. James has the day off, too, so we woke up together. He actually woke me up by stroking my arm. Then he snuggled into my arm, so I rubbed his back.

Listen: if all goes according to plan, we will only be engaged for…six and a half more months HOLY CRAP GAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, because our engagement is relatively short I feel like it’s okay to give details about us waking up together and then cuddling ourselves awake. We sleep in the same bed, guys. This stuff is bound to happen.

I’ve also managed to find a D&D group down here! More opportunities to get out of the house! They seem like pretty cool people too. It’s a weekly session, so my Tuesday nights are officially booked for a while. It’s a dungeon master and five players altogether, a good amount: not too big and not too small.

I went into the session assuming that I would either make my main, Angel Cabrera:


No.

…or I would make Rebecca, my character from Dan’s D&D game that sadly ended after a few sessions. In that game, she was a gnome rogue from an old banking family. I thought it would be fun to take a character who was completely unsuited for adventuring, and then turn her into a competent adventurer as she leveled up. I’ve always assumed that was what “leveling up” did to a character: first-level characters are incompetent and can’t do a whole lot in combat, while high-level adventurers can handle almost anything.

I went with Rebecca, although I turned her into a half-elf and renamed her Sariel.

She dresses like this, but maybe with a wide-brimmed hat and pants? I don’t know. Her backstory is that she was raised entirely by her human banking family, who always treated her like a reject due to her elfin heritage. So, now that she’s just come of age, she’s run away from her family and trying to have adventures without them. She doesn’t know anything about the world except what she’s seen from her family bank (and for some reason she can duel-wield shortswords? I haven’t come up with an explanation for that).

The other characters are:

Narcis: a High Elf wizard(?) whose character idea is “the world really does revolve around me!” (I think her name is Narcis? That’s what I wrote in my notes)
Rollin: a half-elf folk hero ranger. He became famous when he tumbled off a cliff and landed spear-first on a dragon, slaying it. He’s an accidental folk hero (I decided Sariel is a fan of his)
Morthos: a druid who can turn into a direwolf.
Vibe: a half-orc were-bear

When he was inviting me to join, the GM warned me that there would be an eight-year-old in the group. I said that wouldn’t be a problem. After the session, when I was telling James about my evening, I said that there was an eight-year-old in the group, and then described all of the characters.

“Did the eight-year-old make the half-orc were-bear?” James asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Of course he did,” said James.

We spent most of the evening making our characters, and then ran an hour-long session, mostly so the DM could get us into place for the actual plot (I think?).

We’re all new members of the Epsilon group, an explore’s club. As new members, we have been given a fairly easy assignment: escorting a gnome Professor of Magical Theory from the capital city to a different city. We were traveling in an airship from one city to the other.


This aiship, to be exact

A terrible storm strikes the airship as it flies over the ocean. The airship has been blown off course. A half-dozen cult members burst onto the passenger area of the airship, dressed in red robes and bearing daggers. “We will take the professor, but first you will die!” said one, and then they charged.

Rollin attempted to shoot one, and grazed one a bit; they went for Narcis and Vibe. Morthos turned into a direwolf and grabbed one by the neck, breaking it. I stabbed that guy in the kidneys. Narcis let loose with Colorspray, turning some of the remaining cultists blind.

“That was beautiful,” said Vibe.

Then he accidentally walked a crossbow bolt into one of the cultists.

Then he accidentally raged into a bear.

Rollin shot one of the guys attacking Narcis. That guy dropped his dagger and fumbled around, looking for the dagger. The direwolf snatched him up and put him out of his misery (of existing at all).

The one cultist left who wasn’t blind took out a Necklace of Fire. Lightning struck the ship, cutting it in half. We fell away from the other half of the ship, and landed in the water, where we blacked out.

We woke up on a beach, surrounded by screaming. Lizard people were shouting and screaming and pointing crossbows at us.

“Does anyone speak Draconic?” we wondered aloud.

Due to my various backgrounds they looked at me, but I had chosen Common, Elvish, Orc, Celestial, and Dwarfish as my languages. Then we realized that Rollin, the accidental folk hero, hadn’t chosen his languages yet. So he chose Draconic as one of his languages.

In-universe, I played this as Sariel being a fangirl. “Don’t you speak Draconic?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

“Demons! Demons! We have to kill you!”

Rollin started stumbling through a speech on why they shouldn’t kill us. He tried to make it a high-sounding, grandiose speech, but also a bumbling speech.

“What are they saying?” we asked.

Rollin said that they were calling us demons because we use magic. Vibe pulled up the Professor by the arm and began shouting, “Take him! He’s a demon! Take him!”

Then we all heard a rumble.

The lizardmen ran away.

A Tyrannosaurus Rex burst out of the jungle, running straight for us!

“I’m going to run up to him and hug him!” said the eight-year-old.

We all took a moment to explain that just because you think something is funny to do doesn’t mean you should do it. The point of the game wasn’t to be funny, but to not die.

“Why don’t we distract it,” I said. “Let’s get a torch and get its attention, and then throw the torch one way and we’ll run the other way.”

No one was interested in the plan. The eight-year-old suggested that he throw a javelin at the T-Rex. We ignored the suggestion.

The DM said, “It’s now, like, 150 feet from you.”

I said, “I’m going to grab the gnome and run into the woods. Here, gnome guy, come with me! And then we run into the woods.”

“Oh, thank you! But please, call me Professor.”

“Alright, Professor.”

So we all ran into the woods. The dense jungle slowed down the T-Rex, but only a little. A voice began directing us: “Turn left! No, your other left! My left! Turn right!”

“I’m going to take the Professor and put him on my head,” said the eight-year-old.

“This is uncomfortable, but thank you!”

The voice directed us to a ruin, which we ran into just before the T-Rex got us. The entrance was just a little too small for the T-Rex’s mouth. It snapped at us. We clung to the wall on the far side of the T-Rex, just barely out of range of the mouth.

“This is right out of Lost World,” said the guy playing Rollin.

An ape appeared out of nowhere, beating its chest and shouting. The T-Rex turned away from us and began attacking the ape. They jumped and snarled at each other and rolled out of sight.

“This is right out of King Kong,” said the guy playing Rollin.

“Yarrr,” said the guy who had helped us get to the ruin. “My name be Old Yob, an’ I can take ye to my friends.”

We all looked at each other.

“Yeah alright,” we said.

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Posted June 3, 2015 by agentksilver in Personal

Tagged with , ,

2 responses to “I’m writing out this combat because I need to practice writing out combat

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  1. Hee hee. Love your description of the session. Thanks for writing it up!

  2. Pingback: I suppose I should actually finish posting this | The Open Source Vase

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