Sunday, November 23, 2008

I'll swallow your soul!

The evil campaign had its first session today. The rest of the party was imprisoned on Carceri (and I had been there for several years but only just escaped captivity) for various crimes back on Earth (ranging from killing an orphanage to causing an entire island to die via drug addiction and overdose), but they were otherwise given relative freedom to wander the plane. Their first thought: find a way off! They found one of the long-term inhabitants and press-ganged him into serving as a guide. On the way to one of the few cities around, they noticed a group of mutated, long-legged humanoids approaching from a distance (these were abyssal ghouls, with me following them). The "ranger" fired a pair of arrows at the one with slightly different skin coloration. That was me. Since I wanted to help Mommy (the elf child beguiler), who was in the party, I promptly went into stealth mode, as did the ghouls. We eventually closed on the party, and combat ensued. The warlock's ooze companion killed several ghouls, the beguiler turned another against it companions, I slashed at one of the ghouls rather ineffectively (my powers are only very effective against the living) while screaming, "DON'T HURT MOMMY!", the warlord and druid teamed up to do a lot of smashing and slashing of undead, and the "ranger" used some hideously powered-up arrows to kill the big ghoul instantly.

Aside: I should probably explain my backstory. Eight years ago I was kidnapped by a few of the fiends who live on this plane as a test subject to see how much stress and alteration a mortal's essence could undergo without becomeing something fundamentally different (or dying). These experiments ultimately gave me my soul-eating powers as well as a strong affinity for shadow, but they also gave me massive amounts of brain damage. I escaped from the lab and wandered the plane for some time. Just before the campaign started I saw the others being escorted to prison and, in my insane, brain-damaged state, imprinted to a slavish degree on the elf (hence the whole Mommy thing).

Anyhoo. Battle over. During the fight, the "ranger" had read my thoughts and gotten a good sense of me in general. Sensing that I was not immediately hostile, he took me aside and (we started at a rather high level) cast a spell to heal my insanity and put a circlet on me to counteract the mental retardation. In-character reaction: "Gods below, THANK YOU." Out-of-character reaction: "So much for how I was planning to roleplay him." (Interestingly, due to how I wrote up my backstory I am now the least evil of the party by a significant margin.) The other said they were looking for a way off the plane. I did too (eight year of cross-planar torture is no fun), so I joined them. When we reached the city, we found it totally deserted, with the exception of two people. The first was an old man who in formed us that if were wanted off, the mayor of the city (his employer: he was tasked with watching over the city in general) would be the best person to talk to. The second was the mayor himself, who happened to be a very powerful barbarian. He told us of a wizard who lived on the plane, would be our best bet for getting off-plane, and was not a nice person to deal with at all. Before we left, the elf, wanting a lackey now that my loyalty was skewed toward the "ranger," hit the mayor with a dominate person and used several class abilities to make it even harder to resist. The mayor's save? Natural 20. The elf tried a few more spells but was thwarted by consistently high rolls.

Aside #2. When we had a moment, the "ranger" took me aside and explained a few things: he was not a ranger in the service of Her Elven Majesty, he was a part-doppelganger with a very well-established base on the Astral Plane (in fact, the one in the party was a magical duplicate of him; the real guy was at his base), and he was working to prevent an elder evil called The Not from reaching and devouring our world. I could work with/for him and be compensated nicely, or I could say "no" and remain in the party with a few mental modifications. My response: "How could I refuse?"

Also, the DMs were pleased that we were not all trying to kill each other yet.

On a non-D&D-related note, I just saw Serenity.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Digression

So I'm trying to finish my essay for lab right now, and I wish I didn't have to stay within the scope of the readings, because the one I'm looking over at the moment (specifically, the section on determinism) could lead into a nice, long paper on the implications thereof regarding fate and free will. But that would be too tangential for me to get away with. Back to the embryology.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Yeah, I'm going to hell.

Seminar was interesting tonight. The piece we were discussing was Aristophanes' Clouds, with a focus on humor and what makes something humorous. I took a few stabs through the conversation at why dead baby jokes and similar topics are found funny, including the contrasting examples of a baby breaking its arm (not funny) and a baby getting run over by a train (very funny). Later on, Mr. Franks made a comment about Socrates dying horribly (which he does n the play: he burns to death) and added, "which Mr. [Peter] would probably enjoy." So now I'm the resident sadist, I guess.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Random updates

I just spent the last 12 hours in the great hall watching every Star Wars movie in order, along with several other students. I also proved my trivia-fu in between films, though I failed miserably at remembering Count Dooku's existence for one should-have-been-easy question.

And...I have other things to think about. I'm not sure what to think (as usual), but social aspects of my life may be getting more complicated, and I'm not sure whether that would be a good thing or not.

Not that 1 in the morning is the best time for contemplation. A better time for sleeping, it is.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Issues. Serious issues.

Yes, the evil campaign will be going ahead on weekends that the main campaign is not. We will in theory be working together. The campaign will be starting on the prison plane of Carceri, with everyone but me trying to escape one of the prisons and me trying to break them out (I'll explain why). The party will be as follows:

An orc warlord who massacred an orphanage because he thought it was an army of halflings.
A fey-descended necromancer who is gradually becoming a lich.
A hellfire-wielding warlock.
A 12-year-old elf waif assassin-mage with emphasis on illusions and enchantments, whose player swears he will have us all working for him before long.
An anthropomorphic hawk druid who deals drugs.
A greedy elven ranger/archivist diplomat.
A mutant, brain-damaged, graft-covered barbarian who eats people's souls (that's me).

The reason I won't be starting imprisoned with the rest is that I just broke out of the laboratory where I received the grafts, mutations, and brain damage. The reason I will be trying to help them break out is that I have imprinted on the lolita assassin. So when we all do meet up, that particular character will have a loyal lapdog (unless the others find a way to control me).

The main concern of the players is that this might turn into The [Player #4] Show. If the party  does come to blows, my money is on him to die first.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Beware of psycho swords from beyond the veil.

We had a short meeting last night focusing on the two weeks of downtime before we reach Beluria. Missinget and the other casters spent a few days studying some onyx blocks we had extracted from the titan king's brain. As suspected, they contained memories. The memories focused of the destruction of 90% of the Atherton fleet some 500 years ago, the king's relations with a group of powerful elven spellcasters (whom we recognized as the liches we destroyed, and you can guess how the last memory was cut off), and the king talking with one Sethos. Sethos is an extremely powerful wizard known to the older party members who has not been seen in some centuries and has some rather nasty plans in store involving...I'm getting ahead of myself.

A couple of days after leaving the lich caverns, a screaming comet was spotted crossing the sky. Some time later we spotted a massive stone hand rising out of the ocean, smoke billowing from its palm. Aleistair flew over to investigate while the ship remained at a safe distance, and he discovered the very-unconscious-yet-alive body of Zerin! While ferrying him back to the ship, Zerin's sword demonstrated a mind of its own by making some rather threatening "keep going" motions. That is new. Also, along with Zerin was found an infant griffon, which Missinget found highly adorable.

Once he had come round, Zerin informed us that Vateo (his god) had personally hurled him across the planes back to earth (which hurt. A lot.) for a certain, very important task. Do you rmeember when I talked about the transplanar block? We learned that said block is being caused by a set of magical orbs which Sethos is after, and these orbs are causing Vateo to weaken and, if nothing is done, eventually die, which would have nasty repercussions of its own. Who cares about spellslinging undead, now we have to save the world!

On another note, Koslov's player is thinking of DMing a separate, evil-aligned campaign. I must go find out the details.

On yet another note, I have some things to figure out back in the real world. Various life aspects may be getting complicated again. Maybe not. I'll elaborate when I know more.
Edit: Never mind.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Did he just go crazy and...?

Well. This was a very eventful session.

We retreated to the ship just long enough to re-prepare spells, resurrect Meteledes and Koslov, and form a plan. We then headed back in on a phylactery-raiding mission.

At the first room, it immediately became evident that the liches had also spent their respite preparing for our return. First sign? The room holding the phylactery was sealed off by a wall. Aleistair could recognize it as an illusion, and he is the fastest of us all, so we gave him a couple of extra buffs and sent him to collect the phylactery. The instant he passed through the wall, he saw--and therefore triggered--around fifty hostile warding symbols. A few minutes of rolling saving throws later, he was stunned, drained to zero strength (becoming as floppy as a sock puppet), and rendered permanently insane. "Did he just go crazy and fall asleep?" Oh, and none of us were capable of monitoring him, as the illusionary wall had lead dust suspended in it. After a minute passed and no sign of Aleistair, we had Obeliz sneak his way in. He managed to avoid the symbols, pull a set of tongs out of his utility belt--I mean, cloak--and retrieve the phylactery and helpless, crazy Aleistair. We had brought a vat of magical acid for the specific purpose of destroying these things, and we promptly dumped it in. A contingent fireball went off, but everyone but Meteledes avoided the worst. A telekinetic pulse also went off, but everyone but Meteledes managed to keep their feet. One down, three to go.

As we got back on the Reach (our smaller, scouting airship), a pair of shadow tentacle lunged out of the chasm and grabbed the ship. At the same time, a completely new airship swept into the cavern. Its ballistae blasted off one of the tentacles, and I killed the other. The occupant (singular) of the other airship hailed us and introduced himself as Gerrard. This, by the way, is the new party psion. He explained that he was searching for a titan king, but we convinced him to help us finish off these liches in the meantime. Oh, and we also healed and de-insanitied Aleistair.

It turned out that, while scouting the first room, Obelix found clues to the locations of the other phylacteries (no, he wouldn't tell us how). The next room we searched was a very icy place, with many bodies entombed under our feet. At the far end of the room was a stage with a welcome-mat-type-thing. Gerrard sent his psicrystal to investigate. When it peeked under the rug, it was promptly sucked under. Obelix went to investigate. The rug animated and grabbed him. Combat! Weathering (though not well) a barrage of steel and magic, the rug, grabbed some nearby Loadstones (magic items that weight you down a lot) and Sovereign Glued itself (permanent, unbreakable glue) to Obelix. Koslov turned the rug into a mouse and Meteledes cut the mouse off of Obelix--along with a layer of skin, which Missinget healed. Unfortunately, the Loadstone-covered mouse fell down the hole underneath the rug, making a terrific bang when it hit bottom. "Fool of a Took!" Right on cue, the frozen bodies in the ground animated and grabbed the casters. We killed one and wounded several others, and then the dice finally hit us with their worst-placed roll yet: the solar, attempting to melee one of the undead, rolled a Natural 1. With its vorpal sword. Who was withing reach? Meteledes. Yep, our celestial ally, allegedly more powerful than any one of us, decapitated the sergeant, making his third death in two sessions, and his second death caused by an ally. The solar, apparently overwhelmed with shame, used some spell that made it self-destruct. "Did he just go crazy and explode?" This killed off all of the undead and blew a large enough hole in the ice to expose the room below. We found two more phylacteries here and threw them into the acid. One left.

At this time, the one lich who was still alive contacted us magically and basically said, "come and get me," complete with coordinates. We returned to the Reach and spotted the lich at the far end of the complex. In front of the lich rose up...a draconic skull with gems for eyes. All of us thought the same thing: Dracodemilich, a.k.a. Walking Total Party Kill Only It Flies Instead of Walks. I promptly ordered the Reach to flee--no objections were voiced--when Zerin suddenly took off in the direction of the skull and threw up a Wall of Force behind him. Heroic Sacrifice? Yes, but not quite in the manner we expected. It turned out that Zerin had cast a spell that lest him identify the beastie, and it was not a dracodemilich, but an animated dragon skull with gems in the eyes...and stuffed to bursting with explosive powder. One sword thrust to the eye later, the skull exploded, the wall shielded the Reach, and the cleric was utterly obliterated. The DM then called for a group Spot check, and, as if to make up for all the Natural 1s, four of us rolled Natural 20s on that check. Through the smoke we could make out the lich running like hell...until Gerrard rooted him in place with an Ectoplasmic Cocoon. A couple of deadly rays later, the lich was dust. Now to find its phylactery in peace.

Examining the room to which it was running, we found a heavily trepanned, petrified titan, whom Gerrard identified as the king he sought. Searching the expansive room turned up a metric ton of lich loot and a series of rune-covered papers that fit the descriptions of the lich's phylactery. Aleistair cautiously examined the pieces of paper one by one. Next...next...next...you've reached the bottom? Guess what: Mirror of Opposition. A second, third, fourth, and fifth Aleistair appeared and threw up an illusionary-but-very-opaque wall around the five of them. 

Sidebar: This is how a Mirror of Opposition works: if you look in it, the clone/s that emerge will try to kill you. They are duplicates of the poor sap in every way except for intent. If either the original or the clones die, and clones and their equipment vanish. End sidebar.

Examining his sheet for the benefit of how the clones would act, Aleistair saw the he was either resistant or immune to most of what he could do to himself, so the most effective way to get rid of them would be for us to kill him and try to resurrect him later (tough, as he is not native to the plane). Two Aleistairs (one real, one fake) walked into view with weapons sheathed and necks bared. The other three had run off. Missinget cast a spell that disabled both of them. Then we came up with a gorgeous-but-sickening plan: We had Koslov use wish spells to duplicate programmed amnesia (total mental rewrite) on both Aleistairs. When they woke up, neither one was interested in attacking the other any more. Indefinitely Duplicated PC! That complication out of the way, we destroyed the final phylactery (the papers). Examining the titan-turned-statue, all of us agreed that the mutilation its brain had suffered and how long it had spent in this state--450 years, give or take--meant that the best course of action would most likely be a mercy kill. So we dealt such.

Now that we had destroyed evil, it was time for the other half of adventuring: taking its stuff. We ended up carting several magical tomes (mainly of varieties that permanently increased mental ability scores: Koslov and Obelix took the Intelligence books, as Int rules their class abilities, Missinget and Aleistar took the Charisma books, and I took one of the Wisdom books so that my Wisdom could meet actual human standards) and spellbooks, some large magical onyx blocks that I had pulled out of the titan's brain, and a FILTHY RICH FORTUNE in random magical items and components back to the ship. The Atherton society claimed most of it, but we were very generously compensated. On the way out, Koslov left a message for the ghost to read when it rejuvenated, telling it that it lich buddies were kaput and that if it decided to pursue us, we would find a way to make it permanently dead. Afterward, we briefly debated on whether or not to send a ship home to report back our discoveries or to continue onward without delay. We decided on the latter, as next land was two weeks away and that backtracking, due to various factors geographical and political, could set us months behind schedule.

In the aftermath, the duplicate Aleistair made it clear that he would strike out on his own soon (and there are still the three renegades to worry about), we resurrected Meteledes again (which we learned would, due to escalating interference with connections to the afterlife, be the last resurrection we could manage--sorry, cleric!), and the DM let us invest our newly-acquired funds as we pleased, due to the plethora of crafters aboard the ship and the effective two weeks of downtime. Koslov set to creating an adamantine body for himself. Obelix boosted his Intelligence even more and got various other magical enhancements, especially pertaining to mobility and melee (I will take this moment to mention that Aleistair, Obelix, and I, due to the acronym of or real-life names and common competency in melee, are known as the IMP Squad.). I massively (due to having been the one to loot the onyx blocks, I got an extra kickback from our employers) upgraded most of my combat-oriented gear, putting my Strength on par with many giants and making me considerably more agile than anyone in full plate has a right to be. Not sure how the other party members are investing their money yet.

Long story short: Liches are dead for good (but the ghost is not), Meteledes continues to be the tagalong Chew Toy of Fate (but he's sure fun to play), Zerin is dead and not returning any time soon (most likely the DM will find a way to introduce the knight that is his backup character), solar exploded himself after a nasty, brutish, and short life as the other Chew Toy of Fate, Aleistair has one friendly clone aboard the ship (for now) and three homicidal clones of whereabouts unknown, and we all have obscene amounts of loot. We're also approaching the Epic threshold.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

...and the dark side.

I may finally be proud to be a American, but I am ashamed to be a Californian. Here's hoping Prop 8 gets repealed in 2010, if not sooner.

Oh, and we had a bit of a snowstorm during music class.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Tonight, history has been made.

Barack Obama is confirmed to have won the 2008 presidential election.

The first black U.S. president in history. And it wasn't even close: an 3,000,000+ margin in the popular vote, and a landslide electoral vote.

An end to the Bush era (as of January 20, at least).

Accompanied by majorities in both the Senate and the House.

I would include some ecstatic or humorous editorial here, but...

Why risk spoiling the moment? Now go out and give the first person you meet a great, big hug.

...ACK! Nearly posted a typo of "bug hug." Doesn't quite have the same effect....

Monday, November 03, 2008

Freedom!

The longest, most vicious assignment of this semester--my seminar essay--is finished, printed, and turned in in duplicate. My topic was The Oresteia, and specifically whether or not the chain of killing and revenge could have been altered to minimize bloodshed. My answer: as a series of events yes, but as a play no.

Anyhoo, I think this track sums up my current mood fairly well. 

Yes, I am aware of the irony that I'm using a piece titled "Cornered!" in a blog post titled "Freedom!"

Quote of the day:
"It's a fucking neuter!"
"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

Apparently I am again becoming recognizable by garb. The odd thing is that this time it's not sweatpants; it's black shirts, with or without writing on them.

Unintentional pun of the day:
"He can have his cake as long as he's willing to be a cobbler."

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Now I can't be blamed if the country goes to hell.

I got out and voted this morning. The good news? I voted in a swing state. The bad news? Can't do anything about Prop 8.