Four mind-flayers. Small room. Underwater. I didn't use mind blast, because there are no actual rules for what it does. I didn't use the combat-oriented tentacle pulling the brain out of the body. The only special ability I gave them was that each flayer that wasn't stunned could dominate one character, mentally enslaving them, so they'd fight against the party. I aided the party by teleporting them into the fight, granting them first round surprise. At first, it really looked like the party was going to wrap it up fast ... but then the ranger blew save and everything went BAD very quickly. Two mind flayers died; the ranger bashed the druid into pulp. The party couldn't use magic, since the mindflayers are 90% magic resistance, most of the magic wouldn't work in a submerged environment and I use a spellcasting system that makes casting slow.
But ... and this is a big but ... I felt there was a high chance the party wouldn't come out of this alive. So I built a plan. The actually dead party found themselves in Elysium, with it being fully understood that they had died trying to keep a very bad door to a very bad plane of existence closed. So the judges in Elysium have granted the party, who are dead, the privilege of placing their case before the angel Arseil, Prince of Gehenna, who may release them from death (though I haven't told them yet). Before the night ended, they set out from Elysium for Hades, because first they must cross Hades to find Abaddon, Keyholder of the Abyss and Gehenna, the former down, the latter up, and convince their way past the gate.
To aid them, remembering that Dante had Virgil, I chose a guide. The players exist in the year 1654. In the year 1650, Rene Descartes died. So that is the party's guide. He has advised them, and taken them by boat from Elysium to the shores of Hades. I described it thus ...
Two miles out to sea, with the cliffs of Hades in sight, around the sloop being handled by Descartes, souls began to burst onto the sea's surface, taking in breaths of air and looking about. With the ship nearing the land, I could tell the story of how these souls reached the land ... a beach between cliffs, where they would have to try to wedge their way through gates there. The party saw that the people floating started to swim towards the land. Then they passed through a part where everyone was swimming. As the ship passed, these souls banged on the side of the ship and tried to catch it, wailing as they failed. The water was full of swimmers. As the ship moved faster than the swimmers, they could see the swimmers closer to the land were getting more and more tired, moving more slowly. They began to fail ... and as the boat went on, the swimmers helplessly clumped together. Descartes could no longer find open water. By a few hundred yards out, all the souls were spent, helplessly letting the waves drift them towards shore.
The party reacted finely to this horror; the side of the boat was only five feet above the water's surface, so the misery they passed was fully visible. I gave it as much description as I could. Descartes explained that he would try to land the boat between the beach and the cliff, but that it was necessary for the party to travel at least some way along the beach, even if only 40 yards. The philosopher explained that the party needed to realise that they weren't living persons moving through Hades, but dead souls; which meant, if they allowed themselves to be corrupted by Hades, or took actions of violence and anger, they could become permanent residents. Meaning, mistreating the souls all about them could bring down a terrible judgement. Descartes also advised that these were not "evil" people, but only people who had "failed to care" about religion and duty. Thus, though they were destined to suffer, the players could have no justification in adding to their misery.
Thus the party gingerly leapt from the boat into the water near the beach, where the slough of exhausted, corpse-like bodies had formed together as a mass. On the nearest part of the beach, the tired bodies lay everywhere and atop one another, forming a difficult carpet to climb over. While further up the beach were those able to drag themselves onward, towards a great wall, with gates and a parapet ... gates they had to get through, to free themselves from the horrors of the beach. But the press of people made it difficult to open these doors, so that the guards inside — whatever they were — had to beat back the petitioners to let a few in at a time.
With this mass press going on, the party moved along the edge towards the cliff, to climb it. There were souls trying to climb the cliff, but they were much too tired to succeed ... but the party had come in by boat, so they had their strength to do it. Still, they had to fight off the clinging hands and hear the desperate cries of the souls, who tried to swarm over them. The party handled it well, and though there was trouble in starting their climb up the cliff, they succeeded in wresting themselves from the mob.
Stealing from Dante ... looking back from above, the 1st level druid, now nearly 2nd level, saw a childhood friend below, trapped on the beach. This reference had all the effect upon the player I could have wished.
This is where I stopped the running. The fight, the dismal feeling of the party as they realised they were going to fail and die, was sharply contrasted with the party realising they were being given one last try at life. Naturally, the party wanted to joke about it all, so I had to wade in and warn them that "I am still trying to run a game here, and I need you to take it seriously." The effect this had was chilling. Much of being a DM is "presence" ... the ability to be in charge, even of friends, by centering their attention on the game and not themselves. The experience of being in Elysium, being given exhaustive information, without hesitation, about magic items they possessed and hadn't fully investigated, about ordinary things they wanted that were simply handed to them, was doused by the grisly scenes I've just described above. I couldn't ask for a better running.
Let no one accuse you of being too brutal!
ReplyDeleteConcerning game prep: was the Elysium scene something you prepared for ahead of time, or at least had considered in case of a TPK? Or was it off the cuff?
I wasn't going to say, but ... in the interest of full disclosure and possibly providing insight.
ReplyDeleteThe evening prior to the running, I realised that four mindflayers, even for a party of this level, might be too many. The party, in general, with bonuses versus mind control attacks, had nearly a 50/50 chance of making their saves; but I realised if either of the four strongest characters went down, that would be the ball game. The ranger did 41 damage before the mindflayers identified her as the biggest threat; she rolled a 3 for save and that WAS the critical moment.
So, I thought, "Okay, there's a TPK. What then?" The party had chosen to enter an underwater theatre in order to recover a ship with at least a million and a half g.p. in treasure. It represented a ship in the Portuguese fleet that escaped Portugal in 1580, when the monarchy fled the Spanish for Brazil. The Spanish sunk one of the three main vessels, which was never recovered. So of course, they party KNEW going in that the recovery wouldn't be easy.
Still, after delving into the deep and awakening a figure attached to unknown gods of the depth, it was my choice, not theirs, to be teleported into the combat. They DID know prior, from other sources, that flayers were part of their future, but still, they weren't granted the opportunity to ready themselves in advance. The combat was thrust upon them.
So I decided, if they die, they'll go to Elysium. I made up my mind that there'd be some sort of parley, and following that they'd leave for Hades and seek the gate. I'd written a wiki post about Abaddon in 2018, so that much I knew.
However ... of the ACTUAL journey into Hades, I knew exactly nothing when the party left Elysium at 9:55 PM last night. While the players were chatting with each other, I had some trouble thinking clearly in the din. So I excused myself, went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet for no more than three minutes, during which time I conceived of the entire scene, from start to finish, guessing the session would end as they reached the cliffs.
Then I went out and ran it, adding more details as the scene unfolded.
You've got to remember, Shelby ... I've improved scenes on stage, in front of audiences of a few hundred people; I've debated vigorously on subjects without a shred of preparation; I've sold all sorts of things to people who have invented all sorts of excuses not to buy. The skill of making something up is based on a huge mental database of books, films and many discourses, that allows me to dredge up anything of any variety, from horror to romance, if need be. It's a PRACTICED trade. Anyone who commits to the process, who does it thousands of times as I have, will be able to do what I do by the time they reach 60. I'll remind all here, I'm a pretty old fellow.
I wonder if he will be relieved of his guide duties when (and if) his remains are returned to France for a catholic burial.
ReplyDeleteHaving the damned souls' sin be "not caring" is a clever choice-- I'll stop here in case this is disruptive to your on-going game. In fact, feel free not to publish this comment if I've already said too much. Then again, maybe what I'm thinking with regard to the druid is not what you were...
Most likely it's not, Sterling. "Druid" in my game bears no relationship to Gygaxian neutrality, while my outer planes' religious standards bear no relationship to 19th/20th century evangelism, which has poisoned most Christian discourses with this sense of "us" and "them." 17th century codes of religious beliefs tended towards forgiveness and inclusion, as well as deeds vs. beliefs.
ReplyDeleteA druid in my game can be as kind and supportive, with the desire to do good, as any cleric. "Doing good" is, to my mind, utterly distinct from "being good." The ridiculous Gygaxian notion that characters should be heroes, and that heroes are therefore "too pure to be pink," is a toxic injection into a game where the character's "doing good" wins them support from the "forces of good," who don't give a rat's ass what you think, only what you stand for.
The druids in my game clearly do not stand for the horror that Hades represents. The players, as people, are not the sort who find apathy and disconcern to be traits they wish to reflect, or in the sort of people they'd let into their lives. Thus, it's easy for me to win them over, "against" Hades, by demonstrating cruelty against deplorables who sit around, whining about their lives, waiting to be entertained by boxes, while apathetically doing nothing to help themselves or others.
Really, "doing good" is the willingness to HELP. And many, unfortunately, don't see that as their business. Coming into Christmas, what were Marley's words? "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence were, all, my business!"
I wasn't thinking along those lines, but rather the dilemma presented by his childhood friend's soul struggling on the beach.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if the party has read Dante, but I see no dilemma Sterling. In his journeys, Dante sees many personal acquaintances and famous persons as he's taken through Hell ... and yet there's nothing he can do for any of them. They're DEAD. Their chance for redemption is past. The players have an opportunity for restoration to life because they're end path was Elysium, not Hades. Their lives received a favourable judgement.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Alexis. That explanation is very enlightening. The chess analogy still fits: White may not move his knight here, but if he does, Black's next 4 moves are already planned for.
ReplyDeletePretty awesome! This post, I think more thany any previous, shows the benefits of using the real world, or at least a version of it, as your setting
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