And so time, the task master who never sleeps brings us finally to the last game session of the year. It was a cold December night, and the DM was so sick none of the players wanted to be too near him. He was however stricken with a sickness that allowed him to suffer hunger and eat as usual, so the idea of pot luck, combined with the last session of the year, made him want to go ahead with the game, to muddle through with a full belly and a head full of cotton, as best he could. And really, it was the perfect session for it. Called the Ewok Dance of Victory session, it was made up mostly of gathering and counting loot, looking up items to buy, deciding where to go next, and a festival, but let us start at the beginning…
The lord of time and space is dead. His cracked skull of solid gold with ruby eyes and square cut diamond teeth lies in the dust. Picking up the skull, it is heavier than it should be. The invisible weight of immortal malevolence drapes the skull like a shroud. It is pocketed it for its value.
The next few days pass slowly, as the party navigates through the tomb, drawing out its riches into a great pile near the entrance. The estimated value (besides any magic items) is 6,000 gp apiece. Food they have plenty, but they are forced to drink from the vat of holy water for refreshment, and worried glances show the vat ever depleting with little hope of relief on this lifeless rock. On the fourth day a far off soft jingling of bells can be heard and climbing to the highest point on the hill of skulls they see a strange sight.
A large skiff or sleigh, pulled by four large white bears is making its way towards the tomb. In the drivers seat is a large man in red. He whips the bears mercilessly and within an hour, the sleigh is pulling up near the heroes camp site. “Ho ho hail and well met!” the man says, leaping down from the sleigh. He pulls chunks of dried meat from the floor and throws one to each of the bears, who sit on their backsides and begin chewing thoughtfully.
The man puffs up to the circle of gaping mouths and wide eyes. “I am Santos, from the town of D Argent. Welcome to the end of the world.” After introductions he pulls a large bag from behind his seat and from it draws baskets of food and bottles of water and wine. “D Argent, also known as the eternal city, rests outside the fundament of time. It exists in all ages on this world, and we the guardians of that town rest in the peace of eternity. Sensing the death of the worlds last soul, evil as it was, alerted us to your presence, and I was dispatched to bring you hither, there to rest from your heroics. Load you gear and loot and lets be off. The End of the World Festivities begin soon!”
Prior to leaving, Santos gives each of them a gift from his great overflowing bag of goodies. Ria get a candle that never goes out and reveals all that is hidden, Hex gets a nice magic helm, Poppy gets a skeleton key that will open any lock, Felipe gets a never melting chunk of blue ice that will reveal a pathway from one area to the next, though it is not guaranteed to be the quickest, or the safest route. Thokk gets no physical object, but instead has bestowed upon him a fearsome reputation as a kingslayer, and Sharia the Flame Princess gets a magic fire horn that strips invulnerability to fire from her enemies, and gives invulnerability to fire to her allies.
For a day and a night the skiff slides onward over the ivory dust under a black sky. Ahead the black of night is broken on the horizon by a glow that grows steadily larger as they approach. Soon the squat, stone-walled town looms ahead, each of its parapets glowing with great burning braziers. A dry river-bed divides the city in twain, but only ultra-fine dust roils and sifts through it. The gates draw open as the sleigh comes near, and two guardsmen in shining silver caps and wielding long spears wave down as the sled passes inside the gates and skids to a halt on the cobbles.
As the party passes within, the day brightens, and the sky once black turns imperceptibly to cerulean blue. Looking back through the gates, the landscape has changed to rolling grass covered hills. There is no sign of the bleak world at the end of time. A man strides forward. He is part lion, covered in golden fur, and his mane is pulled back into cord wrapped braids. He wears an embroidered robe and though he is stooped with age, he walks with a stately grace.
“I am Rowthor, welcome to D Argent. It is a pleasure for me to see my good friends again. In your count of days, this is our first meeting, but in mine, this be our last. The next time we meet, you will know me already, but it will be my introduction to you.” Such are the vagaries and weirdness of time travel. “I am the seneschal of this town where heroes come to rest. You have earned your stay here. In addition, you have earned a mark of acclaim.” So saying he handed each of them a thin golden disk emblazoned with the seal of D Argent. “Give this mark to any citizen of D Argent and they will be glad to aid you any way they can.”
He leads them to the city, pointing out the master smiths, the fully stocked shops, and they personages of the city. The party meets the shifter Worgen brothers, the dwarf Hammergun clan, the elf Fluival, and the gnome Chownibulus to name a few. Any goods can be bought and sold in D Argent, and the heroes are welcomed to go exploring. A festival will begin soon, to which they are invited to participate, especially since they are the instigators of the Festival at the End of Time by slaying Gagnasdiaks undead soul.
The festival is made up of all sorts of contests. The prize for each is a potion of vitality. The first contest is a deity trivia game. Poppy wins the contest by answering knowing the god of magic – Ioun, and the goddess of the dead, the Raven Queen. The next contest is a 100 furlong footrace. Thokk makes an excellent showing, but is out paced by one of the Worgen brothers. Next comes the barrel jumping contest.
There is a grove of apple trees on the hilltop outside town, and tradition states that the barrels of cider are rolled down the hill to town, and it is the contestants job to jump them, last one standing wins. The first set of barrels rolls placidly down. The second set is lop-sided and bouncing. The third set is spinning as it rolls, and the fourth set of barrels is flaming. Thokk and Felipe are the only ones left, until the bouncing flaming barrel knocks Felipe out.
Then comes the monster spelling bee. Thokk is knocked out (trickily) by the word specter. The player is an anglophile, so this word was a trick to knock him out. Hex misses his space faring cousins the Githzerai, Ria fails to spell Gagnasdiak, Sharia loses to sphinx, and Poppy wins it with wyvern (I think.)
There was an obstacle course that was too poorly thought out to bother with, and the final contest was the wrestling match between Poppy and the gnome Chownibulus. The match went back and forth with each of them being able to squirm out of the others hold before they were pinned. Finally, winded, Chownibulus conceded the match to the elf.
As the festivities drew to a close, Rowthar came to them and told them that he would help them return to their own time in the world of D Erte, but in that time, the city of D Argent is practically abandoned and the portal circle is not working. There were three options open to the heroes. First, they could use the portal to be whisked away to an ancient temple on the edge of the North pole of D Erte called the Frostfell Rift; Second, they could be ported to a ruined monestary built into the face of an active volcano on an island off the coast of D Erte called by locals the Isle of Dread; or fanally, the Eternal city was about to shift in time and space to a version of D Erte that was the aftermath of a great war between man, machines, and magi-tech known as Gamma World.
With careful consideration, the party decided to try their luck on the isle of Dread.
Gamma World is not DnD.
[…] DM wrapped our last campaign nicely (see here), and at the end of the night we took a vote on where we wanted to go next: Gamma World, Isle of […]
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