After 8 long months of anticipation (since North Texas RPG Con 2017) including a few short months since receiving my hard copy of the AS&SH 2E rulebook, my local campaign has found it's legs.  

This past Saturday I met with four players from all walks of life ranging in age from 30-ish to 50-ish (myself) and we finalized characters for a 1st level game. We are from all across metro Atlanta, GA, spanning a nearly 60 mile radius. We gathered at a mostly central location in Marietta, Ga.
We can't meet more than once per month, so I started them at first level in the first game. I'll bump them to second level for the second session, then raise them to 3rd by the third game, continuing with XP awards from there on out. By that third game I expect to have anywhere from 1-2 more players joining our crew. Currently the party consists of a well-rounded bunch:

EVAUGH, the Hyperborean Warlock
KASIR, the Ixian Legerdemainist
ASHILDE, the (f) Viking Druid
and...
CORPSEGRINDER, the Ixian Necromancer*

*Yes, that particular player is a heavy metal fan and is fashioning his Necro's appearance after the lead singer of Cannibal Corpse, whose stage name is CorpseGrinder. I'll try to help him come up with a more suitable 'Ixian' name before long. 

~~~~~

'WILD IN THE STREETS'

I started the party out near the dock ward of Khromarium late one gloomy, cold evening in early Spring. They were each taking temporary shelter from the current dreary, rainy weather. They found themselves inside the Beer Golem Tavern (something I imported from Waterdeep just for this session) along with another score of locals and merchants. The Druid and the Legerdemainist had decided beforehand that they had been traveling together. The other two adventurers were each traveling solo. 
After a couple of hours of nibbling, drinking, and entertainment from a local bard, some folks were considering making a break after the rain had let up and was not much more than a foggy mist. At that time the door burst open revealing a local Constable dripping wet from the rains, holding the door open. The Ixian Legerdemainist immediately pulled his hood a bit further down top hide his face at the sight of the guards.
Soon a pair of town guard shuffled through the door holding firmly between them a colorfully dressed man who looked quite out of sorts in the otherwise drab environment. He was battered and bruised with a trickle of blood leaking from a heavy scrape across his forehead. 
The Constable kicked the door shut and proceeded to address the crowd, "I am Captain Bulrick. And I have been given authority to recruit some able hunters to assist my men with locating and capturing several odd beasts that this... wizard...", he pointed at the man the guards had in custody, "released on our unsuspecting populace!"
The Pictish man dressed head to toe in vibrant colors - green trousers, yellow shirt, and red hat - suddenly spoke up, "I did no such thing! that fool urchin spooked my horses and caused me to crash my wagon in the town square! And I told you already, I am no wizar-!", the guards shake him around a bit and tell him to hush before he ends up in the stocks for the remainder of the night. 
After a stern look at the Pictish man, Captain Bulrick turns his attention back to the crowd, "the city is willing to pay a gold tradebar for each beast captured or put down - "
"NO!", the Pict interjected. "Please, No. I will add coins for each beast brought back alive. Please, have mercy on them for they are innocent ani-." The guards quiet the man again with a few more shakes and the threat of physical violence. 

The Hyperborean in scale mail was the first tavern goer to speak up, "how much is it worth to you, Pict, for these beasts to be brought back to you in one piece?" A few more adventurer types perked up at this question.
The Pict looked up and replied, "I am not a man of much means, but I will give you all I am able." As the guards threatened him again the Captain told them to allow him to speak, as he noticed the growing interest from some of the able-bodied folk among the crowd.
The brightly dressed man spoke as the guards ease their hold on him. "ahem, I am merely a traveling entertainer and collector of rare beasts. I was late arriving to town due to the sudden storm and was merely trying to find an inn for the night when a child ran before my team causing me to crash into the statue." He furrowed his brow and  continued with his tale, "I was thrown and before I could recover I realized several of my animals had escaped from broken cages." 
Murmurs spread across the otherwise quiet tavern as the Viking set her mug firmly on the table and asked "tell me, what manner of beasts are you exploiting?". Her druidic background gave her cause for concern.
The Captain interjected, "yes, 'traveler', describe your beasts to this fine hunter so that they can be tracked down before they cause damage to property or civilians..." 
The Pict looked around nervously at the crowd of commoners, merchants, and adventurers. 

//...continued here for continuity...//

"Well," he began nervously, "*cough* the easiest one to track will be the big one." This one statement caused several raised eyebrows. "It's a young giant...armadillo", phrasing it almost as a question, he holds his hand at  the bottom of his rib cage, "about this tall and as big around as - hmm - that table."
The Hyperborean spoke up again, "Carnivorous?"
"um, no... I don't believe so" the Pict replied. "that is to say all I've ever fed it is wheatstraw and barley, sometimes leeks."
"Grubs?" came an Ixian dialect from the back of the crowd. 
"Hm?" replied the Pict, straining to see who asked the question.
A darkly robed Ixian stepped forward, "Grubs? Beetles? Vermin? did you also feed it these things?"
The Pict looked perplexed.
The Ixian explained, "armadillos are omnivorous. Their diet consists of both plant and verm-"
The Captain interrupted, "time is wasting - what of the other beasts? Quickly!"
Turning from the Ixian, the Pict hurriedly explained that the other two creatures were a giant Cicada that had just finished molting. When asked if it flew away, he replied that as he was getting to his feet after the crash, the insect -described as the size of a mastiff- was hopping away toward one of the nearby buildings. "Perhaps it hasn't yet learned the use of it's wings?"
The final beast was described as a black panther cub. "and she's a slippery one, that girl."

The Captain reiterated that for each beast recaptured, dead or alive, would command a reward of one gold tradebar [worth 100 gp each]. The Pict again mentioned he would add money (bargained up to 25 gold each) for each animal brought back alive and relatively unharmed. 
Four adventurers took up this challenge and proceeded into the cold, misty night to locate the wagon a block away and begin their hunt from there. 

//to be continued//

 

Last edited by blackmote (3/01/2018 11:09 pm)