Politics, shopping, carousing? Not tonight. Back to the dungeon for another helping of kobold slaying!
I was ready for them. The current kobold-infested level of the megadungeon, a home-made first level that sits on top of the Castle of the Mad Archmage lower levels, is now a huge PowerPoint slide on my laptop. Crude unit squares marked the disposition of the two tribes that were going to war, the Yurog and Am'rash. Topside, the party's contact in the Yurog, the Common-speaking Yonx, informed them that the Am'rash had pulled some levers and sealed off the usual entry ramp. He led them down an unfamiliar ramp to where a small unit of Yurog was waiting, and a few messengers sent off into the dark brought more.
The Yurog were tightly organized and disciplined into units of six; two slingers, two shield-and-club warriors, and two long spear carriers, who moved back and forth into formations with practiced ease. At the sound of far-off shouting and clanging Yonx gave the sign to move forward, south ...
At the approach of torchlight and clanking metal, the scouts wounded one Yurog slinger and faded back ; the hobgoblins arranged themselves for a side attack and the defenders of the bastion thrust halberds over it. Meanwhile the Am'rash leader, alerted, was opening the doors and preparing his troops.
After a couple of rounds flesh-wounding the hobgoblins, losing a kobold, but seeing Yurog morale hold, the party decided to unleash the bane of all kobolds. A Sleep spell fell right in the middle of the bastion where, unseen, the leader had moved up. Seeing the leader and four of the troops fall senseless, the rest of the Am'rash fled and the Yurog, shouting, surged forward into the bastion.
The enemy kobolds fell as kobolds do, with really bad dice rolling on their part. The weasel ripped into the dwarf's flesh, latching on with a high roll, and would have surely drained blood and imperiled her life on the next round had it not been for a lucky critical hit with a kobold slingstone against the weasel's head, which made it release its grip. Blow after blow landed on the weasel, but landed ineffectively, the beast living a charmed life and killing one kobold, finally succumbing to the law of large numbers.
Just then (again, off-scene dice rolling favored the party, delaying this event for quite a long time), more kobold cries echoed from outside the double doors. But the war will have to wait until another time ...
Yet Another Set of Musket Rules
2 hours ago