7 January 2017

"Now I am the (dungeon) master..."

Yesterday evening I got to play, rather then DM, in a game of retroclone D&D using the Basic Fantasy (BFRPG) ruleset. It was my first time as a player in any rpg! One of my usual players had volunteered to run a one-shot in a remote part of the kingdom our Averaigne campaign is set in using characters he'd pregenerated (he'd made ten and the six of us chose our favourites), and it was great. Not only had lots of effort clearly gone into preparing for the session (see the awesome character sheets below), but the level of inventiveness was pretty cool.

I'm hoping he'll provide a full session report at some point, but for now I'll just say that my halfling cleric of Rallelpiptas (the god of ridicule, mischief, and trickery) repeatedly failed to be acrobatic (lots of pratt-falls, unintentionally - oh, the dice!), used a tambourine to distract one goblin, finished off another by hitting him over the head in a comedic fashion with a metal serving platter, got the attention of Rallelpiptas by walking in a circle in a silly walk and scattering tiny strips of ribbon, and finally got turned into a (small) lizardman in the middle of a sandy arena that might or might not be an extraplanar prison.

Here was the intro we were given:
Every year, about the time of the winter solstice, a grand festival is observed by all gods-fearing folk in Averaigne. The general practice from year to year is that of eating, drinking and making merry. There is also the exchanging of gifts and, in most settlements, some kind of market, and perhaps even a parade. Each year the festival celebrates a different god, selected by the High Priest of Chambresse. Last year the festivities celebrated the great god-king Gloroieux, the man, elevated by Alathea, who destroyed the godless Lombrian hordes. There was even a ceremonial burning of a straw figure of the Lombrian king, which nearly sparked an international incident, but that tale is for another time. This year, following the theme of kings elevated to gods, the festival celebrates that wily king of mischief, Rallelpiptas. This decision did create some controversy, not least because Rallelpiptas tricked his way to deification, if the legends are to be believed. Nonetheless, the High Priest decreed it, and thus it was so. 
The town of Feicrois is a metropolitan town, located to the West of Avereigne, by the river Freiuca. The river Freiuca is the generally agreed upon boundary between Avereigne and Lombria, though history is brimming with occasions where the kings of either realm thought better of this rule. The prosperity of Feicrois is a testament to the peace of Freiuca, a period of time which has lasted, to date, about three generations, where the two Kingdoms have been at peace with one another. The people of Feicrois have recently completed a bridge over the river, making the town a gateway to Lombria. Feicrois, however, isn’t simply a town between Avereigne and Lombria. Merchants, traders and adventures of all sorts make their way up the Freiuca from the sea, making Feicrois home to a bustling trade economy, and a great host of races. 
Perhaps this is what makes Feicrois’ winter festival one of particular note. The market is something special, filled with festive delights from all manner of cultures, and a buzz which is difficult not to embrace. One may survey the stalls for the best in Elvish silks, and you can be certain to find a great array of the finest Dwarvish goldwork. The smells of homely Averaignean cooking fill the streets of the old town, and those of Calthusian spices flood the large merchant district. This year, as per the theme, ridiculous masks and banners are commonplace, and the town hall is host to a telling of the tale of Rallelpiptas, organised by the learned priests, I daresay in an attempt to remind the populace of the festival’s focal point. 
It is here, in the town hall, that this adventure begins.

An intriguing start, eh?

Here are the characters we chose:

We should find out what happens next, and if any of our characters survive, next week.


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