 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Rolemaster Moments for Nov 2003
We were a small band of rebels trying to prevent the unlife
to take
over our home kingdom. We were not doing such a good job as the
current king was routinely carrying his head in his left hand (for
those who fail to grab the implication, he was an undead!). In an
effort to stop him we went to recruit the nomad tribes living north
east of our kingdom. They were traditional enemies, opposed to the
Unlife and strong enough to fight the corrupted army of the king.
First step though was to get them to listen to us and prove our worth
to them. And for that, we had to pass a rite of initiation: capture wild
horses and ride one each through a bonfire.
Capturing the horses was not as simple as it sounds as we needed
several, and more importantly we needed them alive and well enough to
ride on. I am afraid we were much better at maiming things than at
restraining them, but in the end, enough horses got out of our trap
standing.
Then, came the riding contest.
First went the fighter. One of this "best there is at what I do" guy
in attitude AND fact, he jumped on the back of a horse, took control
of the bucking animal, and had it jump through the fire. The locals
were suitably impressed.
Next, I came. A young cleric (10 levels less than the others but
catching up quickly) with barely any experience in riding, things did
not look so good. Thankfully, my god answered my prayers and made
that horse a personal companion. Only thing left was riding through
the fire. Well, even with the best of will from the horse, I was not
up to the task and fell off while jumping the fire. I fell in the
fire (ouch!) and rolled out on the other side while the horse went
through the fire anyway before coming back to affectionately lick my
face. That was deemed enough. The locals were far from impressed
though.
Then came the warlock. Not a better rider, he used a spell to calm
the horse (more like a lobotomy actually). After that, he climbed
onto it, protected himself and the horse magically from fire and had
it ride through the bonfire at a slow walk. This time the locals
winced at the light smell of burnt horsehair. I am not sure who they
disapproved more of the warlock or me. Probably him as he hurt his
mount.
Finally went the magician. He put the horse to sleep, levitated it,
made himself fly, sat in his saddle, and then pulled the sleeping
horse with himself above the fire. Well, that was technically a
success, but that one left the locals really stunned.
Still, we passed the rite of initiation like nobody before
(literally!) and were accepted as worthy to negotiate with them.
Although, in practice, only the fighter was really accepted as a
fellow tribesman. That was further reinforced when he came up with a
brilliant invasion plan (20 ranks in
tactics+a high open ended roll). The warlock and magician had
the respect you grant someone you fear. As for me, I was mostly
ignored.
I got introduced to RoleMaster about four years ago. Ever since I picked up the books from a used gaming store, I’ve been completely obsessed about GMing Shadow World campaigns with my friends. About a year after having several memorable experiences with my friends at home, I had to move away, and find new friends to introduce to RoleMaster.The first willing person I found was Ron. I told Ron about how the roll-over system works, and how my first PC party had won their very first encounter with a medium-sized earth elemental by rolling a 90-something critical and cutting its head off (I also detailed how the critical system worked). Ron explained to me that he had terrible luck when it came to any sort of dice-based game. I told him that luck is only half of the game. Strategy and roleplaying are key parts, too, and even if you suck at a skill, you can still pull it off if you play it out right.
Ron loved wolves, so his first character choice was a Vulfen (wolf-man) Fighter. He dove head-first into every adventure I fed to him, even though he went through most missions solo, since he was my only friend at the time. Ron was wandering through the woods, having decided to abandon his family’s “wolf-pack” and search for adventure. Lo and behold, a medium-sized earth elemental sprung forth from the ground. I thought that was kind of ironic, when I rolled the same encounter for him as I had for my first PCs. Ron charged at it, swinging his sword recklessly, and scored a lucky hit. He rolled the appropriate critical, and promptly severed the elemental's head (even though his sword broke from the impact). He scored exactly the same critical as the first party had, years before him.
Anyway, he stumbled onward and eventually found the merchant city of Norek. Quickly finding the first path to adventure, he went in search of the thieves’ guild. In a matter of days, he was hot on the path, and decided to infiltrate the thieves’ underground passageways. His underground navigation skills were sadly underdeveloped, and soon the hapless wolf-man was lost in a labyrinth of twisting tunnels. Using his wolf-like perception skills, he tracked a couple of goblins back to their HQ, and eventually found the resting place of the Goblin King. Ron decided to claim the King’s head for himself, so he snuck into the King’s quarters and fired a poisoned crossbow bolt at the sleeping King from his hiding place behind a corridor (the poisoned bolts were found on the body of a dead thief earlier). The bolt struck home, and the goblin king failed his poison resistance roll. To Ron’s surprise, the king burst into flames and rolled about on his bed, wailing pitifully. Apparently the random poison I had rolled was one that was instantly fatal and quite flammable.
The King’s personal bodyguards, a couple of trolls, quickly awoke to defend their screaming, dying king. Ron bravely (but stupidly) decided to fight the trolls to the death. He went only a few rounds before accumulating a large amount of bruises and broken ribs before deciding he was sorely outmatched. He turned tail and ran, but was quickly lost in the maze of passageways. The trolls, having roamed these corridors all their lives, caught up with Ron and promptly began giving him a savage beating. I decided to re-roll the first three 90 and above crits that the trolls scored, just to show pity for Ron. Unfortunately, nearly every critical I rolled was 80 and above. Ron died a painful death as his ribs and internal organs were crushed repeatedly by the hands and clubs of the cave trolls. Ron continues to play RoleMaster to this day; no matter how many times his stupidly brave Vulfen PCs die.
This moment has happened a little after the dealing with the orcs and their god statue (see my previous moment from October) and I think that this was the most hilarious moment in our play up to the current day.
The party had just initiated a bar fight with a group of three burly highlanders which turned into a bloodbath. While blood was shed the town guard was alarmed and started to pour into the bar, ordering the party and the one surviving highlander to drop their weapons and surrender. Reading the odds and the situation the first to comply was the highlander (which was also a mercenary scout in the empire army). Not so reluctant and a bit hesitating, the members of the party also complied one by one – until it reached the dwarf.
"Are you dropping your weapon and surrender?" I asked the player who played the dwarf. "No". The player stated.
"You are in a bar, surrounded with guards, with no place to run and all your friends have just surrendered. Are you sure you don’t want to surrender?" I asked him again. "No". He stated again, "I am going to escape by running to the wall and jump through the window".
Now I really couldn’t believe what I was hearing – the dwarf, in full chain mail and without any gymnastic background wants to run past the town guards and jump through a mans-height window!!! "This is a very hard to sheer fully maneuver" I told him in disbelief, "are you sure you want to do it?".
"Yes. This is what I am going to do", he stated stubbornly. "OK", I told him, seeing that some lessons you can only learn the hard way, "Lets throw the dice…"
Now try to imagine the following picture – a dwarf wearing a full body chain mail with a very low moving maneuver sprinting toward a wall, as he is running, two guards are throwing their spears at him – the first misses him completely and the second delivering a few hits without penetrating the armor. As he reaches the wall the dwarf jumps the jump of his life to the window – colliding hard on the wall and dropping to the ground paralyzed from the neck down!!! We couldn’t stop laughing and had to stop the game for half an hour for everyone to calm down. The thought of the poor dwarf running into a wall brings laughter to the group up until today. In a later time the player who played the dwarf told me he has learned his lesson – next time whenever he enters a place he might need to escape from, he would pre-arrange a chair near the window…
Shop
ICE