#who do we have carrying the githyanki plot
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grapetriip · 2 months ago
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anyone up for bg3 aftg au w dark urge neil
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murfeelee · 11 months ago
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BG3 INSP: Escape the Nautiloid
Githyanki Woman: Abomination! This is your end! Narrator: Your head throbs and your skin tingles. Visions run past: a dragon's wing, a silver sword--and a flash of your face seen through the strange woman's eyes. Githyanki Woman: Ugh, my head! What is this? Tsk'va! You are no thrall? Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together, we might survive. Imps block the path forward. You will assist me in destroying them--we must reach the helm before we transform. Ryuu: Transform? What do you mean? Githyanki Woman: We carry Mind Flayer parasites! Unless we escape--unless we are cleansed--our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted. Within days we will be ghaik: Mind Flayers! Ryuu: We are turning into Illithid? There must be something we can do! Githyanki Woman: We can do nothing until we escape--that must be our priority. Ryuu: I am Ryuu; who are you? Lae'zel: Who am I? Your only chance of survival, Lae'zel. Ryuu: Is the helm our way out of here? Lae'zel: It is where we might gain control of the gh'ath--this Nautiloid ship. Once in command, we will deal with our ghaik captors. We will address the matter of a cure for this infection once we reach the Material Plane. Ryuu: Onward then. The ship won't be able to take another dragon attack. We need to get out before it's too late.
-- Baldur's Gate 3
MY THOUGHTS (mini rant) & CC CREDITS
MY THOUGHTS
Unpopular opinion, but I LOVE Lae'zel. She's my favorite character in the whole game (EASY #2's my daughter Karlach 🥰). People say Lae'zel's hella mean, but I like her whole melting the ice queen shtick.
My biggest complaint about BG3 is that most of the companions are way too irrelevant--other than Halsin, Lae'zel's the only one closely tied to the actual frikkin plot (unless you count that annoying wench Shadowheart blabbing about Lady Shar all frikkin day. I haven't dealt with her & the Nightsong yet). I was with Lae the whole time: get these nasty AF parasites out of my frikkin body RIGHT NOW. 🤮 To the creche! (Then we got to the creche and I was like jfc. 👀💀)
And her going on & on about Queen Vlaakith was way more interesting than Shadowheart with Lady Shar & her whole amnesia excuse (plus I just don't like her, so.... XD).
The Githyanki were giving me strong Qunari vibes from Dragon Age--but that's not surprising, since Bioware made the first two Baldur's Gate games & DA likely lifted at lot from D&D. Lae's kinda like a way more intense Sten or Iron Bull? And both the Gith & the Qun have dragon-obsessed cultures; these are my people. 💪😤
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CC CREDITS
- Midnight Hollow lighting mod
- Tank pose w/ 75% OMSP resizer
- Skyrim dragon by me
- Fireextinguisherfailfx is a GREAT Fog Emitter fire-breathing effect, which I realized when I had Ryuu detonate the parasite pool, and the explosion set sim!Lae'zel on frikkin fire! That orange burst when the extinguisher fails is just perfect.
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I was dying when Ryuu just STOOD there while she did all the work putting out the fires, after I told him to put out the fire FIRST! Typical; Dark Urges can't be bothered helping people, I guess. XD
Fortunately for sim!Lae, there was a nifty Restoration Station nearby where she could wash all the soot off:
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- Lae outfit from Dragon Valley, boots & bracers at TSR
- Ryuu Dragon Age staff acc by @greenplumbboblover
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mumms-the-word · 7 months ago
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In Fathoms Below - Ch. 2
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Ch. 2 - The Launch
Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Gale is meeting the team and the submersible is about to launch! For those curious about where a certain pale vampire is, don't worry. He's around here somewhere. Also, have some mood music!
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Lord Enver Gortash. It wasn’t a name that Gale immediately recognized, but the man carried himself with an air of confidence and self-importance that was impossible to deny. Whoever he was to the city of Baldur’s Gate, it was someone of significance.
Gortash straightened from his subtle bow to offer Gale another charismatic smile. “I’m in charge of this little expedition, at the behest of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard himself. It has been a lifelong dream of mine—and his—to locate the fabled Nautera. When we heard that there was an ancient record of the islands and that there might be a man capable of reading and deciphering it—well, it was practically a dream come true. We wasted no time in organizing this expedition to seek out the fabled city. Rest assured, I’ve gathered only the finest to ensure our success. Including you, naturally. You’ve come highly recommended.”
Gale struggled to keep up. Recommended by who, Elminster? And how did this man know about the Account when not even Gale had been certain it still existed until only a few short days ago? And Ravengard—that was a Baldurian name, if he recalled. One of four Grand Dukes that ruled the city. If this was a Baldurian expedition, why had Elminster arranged for him to join? Then again, perhaps he ought not to look a gift submersible in the mouth...
He set those concerns aside for now. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Gortash.” 
“Likewise.” Gortash snapped his fingers at the drow woman. “Minthara. Gather the others will you? We can have a little debrief before we launch.”
Gale didn’t miss the withering look Minthara shot at the back of Gortash’s head, but she turned and left even so. In the meantime, Gortash gestured toward the githyanki, who was watching them both with a sour expression, her arms still crossed over her chest.
“This is—”
“I am capable of introducing myself, istik,” she said, cutting her eyes briefly at Gortash before settling her gaze back on Gale. She straightened and lifted her chin. “I am Lae’zel of K’liir. No doubt I will be this expedition’s strongest fighter, should the need arise.”
“Lae’zel is here to offer her people’s expertise on Nautera,” Gortash said, appearing unruffled by her interruption. “The libraries of K’liir contained quite a few tir’su slates with accounts of the islands. I’m sure the two of you will have much to discuss as we draw closer to the city.”
“Truly?” Gale couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I confess, I’ve always wanted to learn tir’su. No doubt time in your company will prove valuable to us both.”
“Save your words, istik,” she said, settling back against the table and folding her arms again. “I offer only that which is necessary, be it in words or with blades. I do not chatter.” 
“Ah…duly noted.” 
Gortash chuckled. “Don’t mind her. She’s like that with everyone. Ah, here we have our healers. This is Halsin Silverbough of the Emerald Grove and Shadowheart, a cleric who has offered her services to the cause.”
“You must be the translator we’ve been waiting for,” Halsin said, nodding to him. “Well met.”
“Funny,” Shadowheart said, looking Gale up and down. “I thought you’d be more…”
“More…what?” Gale tilted his head. “Dashing? Roguish? Elegantly dressed?”
She pursed her lips. “More of a peacock, I suppose. Your reputation precedes you.” Her gaze settled briefly on his silver Mystran earring before returning to his face.
“Ah. I dare not ask which reputation you’re referring to, if that’s the case,” he said, laughing somewhat awkwardly. He could just imagine what the others had heard about him by now, especially if Elminster had arranged for him to join up.
But just as she noticed his earring, he couldn’t help but notice the symbol on the circlet she wore over her hair—a round black disk like a new moon. Any follower of Mystra would recognize that symbol. It was the mark of Shar, one of Mystra’s longest and most relentless divine enemies. The two goddesses absolutely hated each other.
Curious that there would be a Sharran cleric on board. But if she was here as a healer, perhaps she intended to do no harm. Or so he hoped. He offered her his most charming smile and a little bow.
“Rest assured, I’m more than happy to offer my services to the expedition. The discovery of Nautera is not something a man simply passes up.”
“That’s the spirit,” Gortash said, flashing him a quick grin. “Ah, and I know you’ve met Karlach.”
“Hello again, Gale,” Karlach said, giving him a little wave. He waved back.
“And this is young Wyll Ravengard, son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard.”
“At your service.” The young man bowed gracefully before rising and offering Gale a smile. Gale noticed that one of his eyes had been replaced with a smooth, stone eye and that there were several scars on his face and neck.
For a young son of a grand duke, Wyll didn’t look the part. This man had clearly seen trials the like most could only find in their nightmares. Still, it was curious that he was here. From what little Gale recalled of Baldurian nobility, Ulder Ravengard only had one son, and this expedition was sure to be dangerous at times.
Wyll's presence must be a hint of Ravengard’s confidence in the success of the expedition...or else there was some other, darker reason no one dared to name. Gale hoped it meant the former.
“And finally,” Gortash said, as the drow woman returned to the table, “allow me to introduce our general, Minthara of House Baenre. She has brought with her a retinue of drow scouts and soldiers that will no doubt be invaluable as we explore any Underdark passages along the way.”
“I also serve as the second-in-command for this expedition,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “And I suffer no disobedience of any kind. If you will not listen to Lord Gortash, you will listen to me. Is that clear?”
“As crystal,” Gale said, trying to look sincere. He glanced around the group, trying to match faces with names and names with occupations. Gortash, the lord and leader. Minthara, the general. Karlach, the bodyguard. Wyll, the young noble. Halsin, the druid healer. Shadowheart, the cleric. And Lae’zel, the githyanki soldier and tir’su expert.
An ecclectic group if he ever saw one. He couldn’t fathom why half of them cared about finding the ruins of an ancient city. At worst they would find nothing, save perhaps stone blocks and broken pottery, and at best they’d locate ancient writings, perhaps a rare fragment of the legendary mythallar. Gale knew what he wanted out of the trip—answers about Nautera and its relationship with Netheril as well as the pride in knowing he had proven generations of Candlekeep scholars wrong—but he dared not wonder why the rest were interested.
Perhaps it was better that he did not know…for now.
“Now,” Gortash said, clasping his hands together. “There are plenty more important people to meet but you can make those introductions along the way. We had best be off. Gale, you will be sharing a bunk with Halsin and Wyll while aboard the submersible. I trust they can show you the way?” At Wyll and Halsin’s nods, he continued, “Splendid. Everyone, we will meet at the helm in exactly one hour. If you’re not inside the submersible, you’ll be left behind. And, Gale…” 
Gale paused just as he was turning away to follow Wyll and Halsin down toward the submersible. He faced Gortash again, finding himself caught beneath the Baldurian lord’s dark, unreadable gaze. Gortash’s smile, however, was as charming and practiced as ever.
“Bring your little book. We’ll have need of it.”
-----
The interior of the submersible was nearly all metal. Metal sheets, metal pipes, metal grates, metal bolts. If it wasn’t metal, it was thick glass that peered out into the blue depths beyond. While not entirely unwelcoming, it was certainly different from the creature comforts Gale was used to in his Waterdhavian wizard’s tower.
The bunks, at least, looked passably comfortable, though Gale was a bit disappointed that there was no chance of a private room. Still, Wyll and Halsin seemed sensible, even friendly company.
“How does a young noble and a druid come to join an expedition like this?” he asked them as he dropped his pack onto the only available bed in the room. It was little more than a narrow padded mattress with a thin pillow and a blanket folded at one end, but it was his now.
Wyll, leaning against a ladder-like set of rungs that led to a bunk over Gale’s, gave a light shrug. “It’s a legendary city at the bottom of the sea, like a fairy story of old. What's not to enjoy? I wanted to see it for myself and my father was only too happy to negotiate a place for me...so here I am.”
Gale noticed a shift in Wyll’s voice at his last sentence, but couldn’t quite discern the meaning or emotion. Wyll’s pleasant expression and soft smile were polite, but impenetrable. If there was more to his tale than he was letting on, there was no way for Gale to know it.
“I take it you’re interested in the legends and the history of Nautera, then?” Gale asked.
“Only what I don’t already know. I’ve heard the stories, of course.” Wyll began to gesture with his hands, as if painting the scene. “A fabled city on a distant island, home to a thousand wonders of every kind. Flying ships, walking stone creatures, marvels and magic and more. Only for it to disappear over the span of a single day. One day it’s there, another island in the vast sea, and the next—” he snapped his fingers, “—gone. Not even a rock jutting up from the water to suggest it was ever there.” 
He smiled and dropped his hands, shrugging. “They say the person who finds Nautera will be granted one wish, whatever their heart desires. But I’m not so sure that’s true.”
“Perhaps not, but there are always elements of truth even in the midst of a fairy story or a legend,” Gale said. “Perhaps wishes were granted there, back when it was above water.” 
He turned to Halsin, who was seated on the bunk opposite, his wooden staff resting on his knees. “What of you? I’m surprised to see a druid of the forests showing an interest in an underwater city.”
Halsin smiled faintly. “It is odd, and this…submersible is unnatural to me. But I was told there was a need for a healer, and I have been many strange places in my modest life. To see the ruins of a civilization that predates my own people…such marvels are not to be ignored, I think. I am here to be of service and to satisfy my own curiosity.”
“Then our interests align. Though I hope we will not need to rely on your services too much, Master Halsin.”
“Just Halsin, please,” the old druid said, chuckling. “And I agree. Though if the need arises, I can be useful in other ways.”
Before he could explain further, there was a sharp knock just outside the bunk room. A young man in uniform leaned in through the open doorway. “Saers, you’re wanted at the helm. We’re to launch in a few minutes.”
“We’ll be right there,” Wyll responded, and the young man disappeared. Wyll took a deep breath and turned to smile at Gale and Halsin. “We’d best be off. I hear the best place to witness a submersible launch is at the front.”
He and Halsin ducked out of the room, the tall elf literally hunching to make it through the rounded, low doorframe. Gale made sure to retrieve the Nauterran Account and tuck it carefully into his satchel, alongside his spellbook and a few other supplies, before following them out of the bunk room. 
The helm featured an impressive array of controls, dials, levers, and gauges, all manned by various pilots, including one surly-looking blonde dwarf at the very front. Overhead, bolted sheets of metal made up part of the sloping, dome-like ceiling before transitioning to curving panels of thick, reinforced glass between metal bars, giving them a clear view of everything immediately ahead and above them, and a fair view of the sides too. At the center of the room, a large, curving, mahogany desk and a surprisingly plush chair took up much of the space, looking elegant yet out of place, as if they had been teleported in from someone’s office back in the city. Someone had laid out several maps and navigation tools on the surface. The chair was unoccupied at the moment, but Gortash stood just to the side of it, hands clasped behind his back, watching the pilots work. 
A few paces away, Karlach shifted restlessly on her feet, tapping her fingers against her thigh and turning her head this way and that, as if trying to catch all the action going around her. Minthara, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart stood nearby, with Lae’zel and Shadowheart eyeing each other darkly and Minthara ignoring both of them to stare over the head of a gnome pilot messing with specific controls.
Gortash glanced over his shoulder and noticed the three of them entering. “Ah, good. You’re here, just in time to watch the magic happen. So to speak,” he added, sending a grin Gale’s way. 
Before Gale could respond, Gortash turned away and directed his next words to the blonde dwarf at the front of the room, where a big metal ship’s wheel was waiting. “Redhammer, begin the launch and take us out to the open sea.”
“Aye, saer.” The dwarf pulled one of the levers and took the wheel. “Commencing launch.”
All around the room, various pilots began to flip switches, pull levers, and turn wheels, calling out responses or numbers that Gale could make no sense of and watching various screens and gauges as they worked. He felt the floor beneath him shudder as distant engines roared to life, the dull rumble and vibrations reaching them even there in the helm. The excitement in the room was palpable. Gale’s heart began to pound and his blood began to race through his veins, all in anticipation of the launch. 
All at once the entire submersible gave a downward lurch, as if being dropped or let go, and a flurry of bubbles billowed up against the glass. Gale moved to a free space near one of the windows, out of the way of the pilots, watching as more curtains of bubbles bounced and twirled upward as the seacraft began to lower gently away from the docks. He felt his ears pop as they sank lower and lower and began to turn away toward the deeper blue of the ocean depths.
No turning back now.
“Watch those power gauges, boys,” Redhammer said, directing his fellow pilots. “Steady now. Increase engines one and three and bring them to thirty percent.”
The rumble from the engines louder grew until it was a sonorous thrum in the background, the vibrations beneath Gale’s boots now a constant drone. Outside the submersible, the massive metal fins on either side came to life, frightening and scattering several fish that had ventured too close. He felt the seacraft tilt and adjust before it fell into a steady, subtle rocking pattern, like that of an undulating whale, as it began to move forward. It wasn’t unlike the rocking of a ship on the sea, though perhaps more regulated. 
As they moved away from the docks and out toward the open expanse of the ocean depths, they cut through fronds of thick, towering kelp, sending fish and other creatures fleeing through the waving undersea plants. It was surreal to watch the underwater world pass by them through the windows of the submersible, almost as if he were seeing merely illusion rather than reality.
“Whoa…” He turned to see that Karlach had joined him at a nearby window, staring out of it in wide-eyed wonder. Her glowing eyes were even more alight as she took in the waving plants, the fish, and the bubbles as they moved through the water. “We’re really doing this…”
Her wonder bolstered his own and he offered her a somewhat crooked smile. “Nervous?”
She glanced sidelong at him and laughed. “Too late for that now, soldier. Besides, Gortash doesn’t pay me to be nervous.”
Redhammer’s voice called out again. “All engines to forty-five percent. Take us down ten degrees down-angle and hold us steady.”
Working in tandem, the pilots pivoted the seacraft and maneuvered it downward, increasing the speed until they were moving along at a noticeable clip. The kelp forest quickly gave way to rocky reefs with sparse coral and from there to gray, silty sand that disappeared into darkness the farther they descended. The sunlight overhead grew fainter and fainter until at last they were enveloped by inky blue and cobalt, the waters ahead illuminated only by the brilliant enchanted lights that shone outward from the front of the submersible. 
Beyond the reach of the seacraft’s lights, the depths below beckoned, looking like a vast, empty void of velvet black. Gale held tighter to his satchel, his eyes on the dark waters ahead. He was loathe to pray to any goddess other than Mystra—and even she hadn’t been listening to his prayers lately—but he was tempted to offer a meek prayer to Umberlee, the chaotic goddess of the seas. They were in her territory, after all...
And at the mercy of her infamously temperamental whims. The darkness of the depths was a tangible reminder of their tentative place in her domain, because, as any Waterdhavian knew, the Bitch Queen was more than capable of summoning a creature from the depths to sink a ship.
A massive submersible diving into her depths would only be that much more annoying to her, and that much more susceptible to destruction. Gale could only hope her attention was diverted elsewhere.
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y-rhywbeth2 · 1 year ago
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I think it would've been funny if instead of being a dragonborn by default, the Dark Urge was literally an actual white dragon.
For shenanigans.
[Disclaimer that this idea is ridiculous and I don't care.]
The bhaalspawn plot twist is largely obvious to players of BG1+2 and those who've already completed the game. Who'd see the twist that you've forgotten that you're dragon in disguise coming? If you play another origin they'd make a good excuse to add a brainstealer dragon boss battle. Alternatively, if you take the ceremorphosis ending, you play as one.
Plus white dragons instinctually lean towards being brutal, vengeful little bastards in a manner Bhaal would probably approve of and due to their slow development would be very easy to corrupt from a young age… but my motivation is still mostly for shenanigans.
Living most of their life in a city, I imagine they're used to being in humanoid form. They had a sibling rivalry with Abazigail, as the only other dragon they know ("White dragons are weaker and inferior to Blues." - "I'm sorry, I'm too stupid to remember something, can you remind me? Of the two of us, who's a dead failure who disappointed Father?").
They got shanked by Orin in humanoid form and just woke up with brain trauma and assumed they were whatever humanoid they appear to be. Sure they have some ancestral draconic memory and speak draconic, but that's just a sign of having a dragon ancestor. It's not that weird! It might also seem strange when they start growling at the Githyanki dragon steeds, but going by some dialogue Durge growls at people anyway so it won't even stand out that much. At least the "human flesh smells tasty" thing makes sense now?
Lacking any memories of past enemies to plot against, dragon Durge simply adds their new friends' enemies to their list of grudges.
Those of us who play by looting everything in sight and refusing to share it with the party members have a valid reason; dragon hoard. Yes I do need to break my back carrying all of the money, enchanted weapons and six thousand books I'll never read; no, we're not selling any of it, fuck off.
We get to act 3 and the party gets the Bhaalspawn reveal possibly followed up by "also I'm a dragon." ("what the Actual Fuck.") Gale has already formed a hypothesis about Durge's true species, but we should also get to play Sharks Are Smooth over it. You get the standard -30 disapproval from Gale, but if Astarion is there he'll also want to play and you get 30 approval from him and Gale's disapproval doubles to -60.
Lae'zel as our resident horse dragon girl would rather travel with a red, but perhaps a mere white dragon will do for a steed in the meantime. It's training for her future, you understand.
I want to pick up Mizora with teeth and shake her like a dog with a chewtoy when she invades my camp to torment Wyll and refuses to leave. Maybe throw her around like an orca with a seal…
Romanced Wyll, Shadowheart or Gale introducing them to their parent/s (+Tara, in Gale's case) would be fun to watch.
Duke Ravenguard has hopefully learnt his lesson about not jumping to conclusions and hearing Wyll out and showing some tolerance for what appears to be an evil alliance, but a chromatic dragon sired by the god of murder who's also a reformed serial killer might be putting some tension on that... Maybe leave some details out.
The Hallowleaves are remembering the tolerance their Selûnite faith espouses and that they too are a loving couple involving one person who is technically a monster but I feel like Arnell is still on some level internally going; whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.
I think Ms Dekarios will be mostly unphased. She's a wizard herself and Gale's been bringing weird shit into her life since he was born. Her son came home with a dragon for a fiancé/e. Sure. Must be Tuesday.
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betabites · 7 years ago
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Dragons of Tiamat, a good-parts campaign
A while back, I posted my thoughts on a ‘good parts’ campaign. I’ve actually started one, so I thought I’d share some of what I’ve done for that game.
The Pitch: ‘Y’all are a clutch of dragon wyrmlings that were raised together by a cult of Tiamat. Lately, your biggest, reddest sibling has been kidnapped! The rest of you are out to rescue her, and maybe have a little fun in the process.’
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Because of the amount of content, I’ll be including links to individual pages with the dragon chassises, templates, deeds and the opposition. I love hyperlinks.
Overview - Dragon chassis - Templates - Deeds - Opposition - The Prison
The Introduction:
I started out by recapping the campaign concept, and that what we were doing now was outside the standard meta-narrative. I may have made Inception jokes. Basically, we were going to choose pseudo-classes for the characters, and then, by them selecting cards, determine a few specifics of ‘last session.’
I gave each player a character sheet, a dragon mini, a breath weapon template, and a name card to fill out. The characters were:
Delachiiwaer, the black dragon,
Zhazhefflix, the blue dragon,
Bhelachatemyx, the green dragon,
Minnenfrixxicks, the purple dragon, and
Fahrezintbrentuz, the white dragon.
And they were trying to rescue Halyxxialtix, the red dragon.
You can see the need for name cards. I recommended that folks make a shortened version. This was mainly for usability, but also let the players make an immediate stake on their characters. Delachiiwaer didn’t get used, since I had a last minute cancellation, which kind of emphasizes why standard campaigns don’t work for us. The wyrmling names we used were:
Flix, the blue wyrmling (played by @lawlessdragon),
Bhela, the green wyrmling (played by @saffrontherogue),
Minnen, the purple wyrmling (played by @sherlock913) , and
Rezzy, the white wyrmling (played by @kaminaduck ).
And Hax, the red wyrmling. She preferred Xialt, but the PCs felt otherwise.
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Because of the cancellation, I had more Template and Deed cards than I needed. I dealt each player an extra Deed card, and the remainder from both went face-up on the table, where anyone could use them.
From there, I dealt out the Template cards - two to each player, and two face-up on the table. Each player could select one, either from their hand, or the table.
(Flix chose Faerie Dragonkin, Bhela chose Bookwyrm, Minnen chose Suspiciously Shiny, and Rezzy chose Ate Your Nestmates).
After that was Deed cards - six to each player, and one on the table. Players discarded one to the table, and then chose two, from their hand or the table.
(Flix chose Robbed a Potioneer and Extracted Tribute from a Druid. Bhela chose Recovered a Grimoire from a Ruined Tower and Sacrificed a Treasure to Tiamat. Minnen chose Saved Some Bandits... for Later and Indulged in a Manicure. Rezzy chose Smitten (by a Paladin) and Captured a Pixie. For those of you keeping track, they managed to take every single Deed that gave them combat-capable allies.)
Once everyone had their complete character, I ‘recapped’ last session. The PCs,between acts of banditry, counter-banditry and treasure-huntery, had fought and interrogated a member of the Smith-Cult. The Smith-Cult had captured Hax, the PCs surmising that dragonfire was an important component in magical item creation. So, they had traveled to the Big City (Garfellan), where they needed to find the headquarters of the Smith-Cult and get Hax back.
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The Session:
I’m going to err on the side of brevity here, because it ran a lot like an ordinary session of a campaign. Folks settled into their characters, arrived at a new city, got a feel for the place, mingled and looked for information, did some scouting, got some exposition, came up with a plan, executed their plan, had a big fight, and got some twists dropped on them. 
I dropped plot threads and hooks left and right, some of which the PCs jumped on, others which they were interested in, but left fallow in interest of time. This particular miracle of PC-focus was achieved by me briefly stepping out of the metanarration to say, ‘Cool, I’m glad you’re interested in this. I’ll add it to your quest log, and it’ll come up in a later episode.’ Actually treating to your PCs like adults is amazing, folks.
So, in brief:
PCs arrive in town, drop their kit at a fancy inn, act snooty enough to get a line of credit, and sign up for the ‘rich and powerful people’ newsletter. Garfellan is a city in the throes of an Industrial Revolution. There are airships, lightning trains, mass production. They get a schedule of upcoming events, and go ‘we’ll take one of everything.’
DM Note: I was prepared for them to either act high class or low class. High class just meant they had to do a lot less legwork and administer fewer beatings, and eat a lot more hors d'oeuvres. The poor dears.
There’s a bit of information gathering, hampered by the fact that no one actually has Gather Information. Whoops. I rule they can use other social skills to do so, at a -4. They fill in some details about Garfellan.
The first big event is a lightshow at the local mage tower, The Stellarium (I said ‘The Star-Studded Tower’ in session. But Stellarium is much better, so I’m going to use that). They mingle, snack, and get brainless aristos’ impressions of what the mages are actually doing, of which the lightshow is only a side effect.
They sneak off in the middle, because they’d spotted something unusual. One of the effects of the ritual was to push back the smog and smoke of the city, to provide the tower with clear lines of sight to the stars. All well and good, but one building had kept putting up smoke unimpeded. The PCs figured that whatever was producing the smoke was at least as bamfy as the mage ritual. Like, say, dragonfire.
There are some hijinx as they cross most of town to the source. The PCs get out of them by a combination of stealth and panache. They do spot a burglary taking place at the First Magical Bank of Garfellan, but a peek after the thieves shows them getting pasted by the defending stone golem.
The source of the smoke is a octogonal building with few windows and lots of chimneys. It’s built like a fortress, and it resembles an amulet they’d taken off the Smith-Cultist they’d interrogated out in the country.
They return to the party, and have a run-in with the young Queen Egalatine and her regent, Alfonso Tybaltine. They consider killing the regent (who, naturally, wants to marry the Queen, and become king. He’s a mere thirty years older.), but settle for putting it on the to-do list.
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The PCs try to push into the tower, and find out what exactly the mages did with their fancy ritual. They manage to get the unfortunate on door duty talking, one Ballestaria. She says that her fellow astronomers have come to a realization. They can’t change Fate, since that’s written in the stars. But they can change their perspective, and thus their Fates will be different. The ritual essentially installed a giant lense between the world and the stars, bending the light of the stars into a more favorable configuration.
The next day, the PCs devise a scheme, after confirming that the building they investigated was the smith-cult headquarters. They will play the part of the idle rich, and present a business deal to the Smith-Cult. They’ll start a fashion for massively overpriced wrought iron jewelry, accessories, etc, the Cult will have an exclusive contract, the conditions in Garfellan will ruin the pieces with rust almost immediately, and they’ll make millions. It’s just stupid enough to work. Especially since they’ve been hanging out with aristos for the last couple of days, so they know how dumb all this can get.
In any event, their scheme gets them in the door as guests, and quickly, an audience with the Master-Smith. When discussing the particulars, the PCs mention using dragonfire forging as a selling point offered by one of the Cult’s competitors. With some reluctance, the Master-Smith informs the PCs that the Cult can match that. And, eventually, is persuaded to let the PCs see the source of the dragonfire.
As the Master-Smith is escorting the PCs down to the holding cell, he’s called away on urgent business outside. The PCs are led to the dungeon by a lesser smith and escorts. The PCs confirm that Hax is in the dungeon, and launch a surprise attack.
They fight. Flix uses his shifting step ability to transport Hax out of the cell and into the midst of the enemy. The enemy regret this. Many breath weapons are flung. Minnen’s bandits, against all odds, survive.
At last, Hax and the PCs leave the dungeon, but decide to stop at the Cult vault on the way out. There, the find the doors already broken open, the guards slain, and three individuals in strange, baroque armor, lifting a silvery sword from the wall. The blade springs to life in their hands, shifting and flowing like quicksilver.
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The githyanki charge Hax to remember the pact between their peoples, and join them. She does so. The sword-seeker extends an offer of alliance to the PCs, saying that the world is under the sway of the illithids, and that it needs to be cleansed. The PCs, after due consideration (and looting everything they can carry from the vault), agree, and follow the githyanki out.
Outside, the sky is split by an astral rift above the Stellarium, and astral dreadnaughts hang in the sky, bombarding the city below. The Incursion has begun, and the Prime Material will fall to the Githyanki.
The Wrap-Up:
I make a note of everything the players say they want to see in the following episode. I ask them whether they’d like to keep the same Templates, whether they want to add a different one, or advance the one they have. I find out that the players had been sitting on some of the activated Deeds because they thought they were for the whole campaign, not just for this episode. I agree to carry over most of those effects to the next episode.
We disperse, and I scheme for the next episode. Which includes writing this, as a way to collect my thoughts.
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