Lost Dispatches of Feraso #82 - Another Rescue in Nightwood Forest

1st of Hexdec 1160 - Village of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
I never kidnapped a child before...  the Gadling family have been the the biggest group of ignoramuses I have ever seen and each new addition is dumber than the previous. It almost felt too easy to lure young Gad (Gad Gadling? Seriously!?!) away from the family, but by the time I met my kobold rendezvous in the Nightwood, he hadn't noticed anything amiss, I gave up any hope for that child.

2nd of Hexdec 1160 - Village of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
It literally took an entire day for that family to discover that their child was missing. These people are the reason that barbarians destroy our civilizations every couple hundred years or so.

But, once they pulled their heads out of their collective backsides, they brewed up the proper brouhaha right in the middle of the town green, drawing everyone to their plight.

I paid little attention to their wailing, paid no heed to the words of W. when they appeared and chastised the village, rather I positioned myself near our marks. I took advantage of the indifference of Krull, Torm immediately advising them that their group had been randomly volunteered to search the Nightwood for the boy. Markuus' and Theron's strong penchant for acceptance took that hook, line, and sinker, and the half-orc boys' sense of community spirit sold it.

I took my normal patrol and headed up the River Road to search along the manors. Apparently taking the patrol to the halfling villages for some rest and relaxation last time we had a missing child was a bit much, so after a morning of searching, we found some shady spots and fished until we returned back, late for dinner.

3rd of Hexdec 1160 - Village of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
Day two of fishing. Still no bites, although others were successful. No sign of the marks, although it's still early. I can pull off one more fishing day before I need to think about leading a search party into the Nightwood to rescue all their sorry lot.

4th of Hexdec 1160 - Village of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
Good news for my non-existent fishing prowess: Word came early in the morning of the "Hero's arrival" with young Gad. Celebrations had already started, including W. providing them with a respectable reward and disappearing back into the shack.

By the time we arrived back in town, the celebration was getting its second wind, and Markuus looked to be on his last legs, his head covered in bandages.

Apparently less than a quarter mile into the Nightwood, the party was fell upon by an ingenious trap. While investigating some miscellaneous clothing along the trail, a group of goblins set off a swinging rock trap. Good sized rocks, tied to ropes and hung from the highest canopy in the forests flew down on the unwitting adventurers. Most dodged out of the way, one or two got some nasty bruises, but Markuss the elf? Two of them square in the noggin. After that catastrophe, there was little he could do, so the others avenged his fall by charging up the hillside and dispatching the goblins.

Markuus was little use for the rest of their quest (and the butt of jokes at the Blue Wizard), but our "Heroes" killed two trollkin, rescued Gad from the kobold encampment (raising enough of an alarm so the kobolds would contact their goblin overlords of the incursion), and were gently chased out of the Nightwood by a lackadaisical kobold pursuit, which only stopped when a rodent of usual size appeared unexpectedly.

Unlike his older brother, young Gad was subject to residing in the special cheek pouch the Nightwood Rodents possess.

Gad was rescued, the Gadling family relieved (until they misplace another child tomorrow), the heroes celebrated, and hopefully the Lords of G'ba made aware of a minor trespass into their lands by some ignorant adventurers, but I'm sure the panicked kobolds and goblins played it up far worse than what happened.

GM Notes:  The first adventure of the the Army campaign, and the strong, handsome, and incredibly overconfident Markuus has met his match with a rock trap.  

I found this on rpg.net a few years back on a random topic, in Markuus' player, Mike's own words:

"I remember playing a sylvan elf cleric of illmater the god of pain and suffering with a very high str in the late 90's and when i first started playing we ran into goblins that had boulders on a hill and i thought i was tough so i charged them but as i underestimated eric at the time for being a wicked gm they had vines wrapped around them and when i got hit i had only 1 hp left."
Markuus is suffering post-concussion syndrome, but his recollection might be correct.

Next: #83 Return to the Castle in the Moors

Ballad of the Pigeon God #63: Awaiting the Oncoming Storm

20th of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Barony of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
It was unsure if the news had traveled to his enemies, but to the common folk of the Barony of Eding, they were equally relieved and worried about the appearance of the assumed dead Baron Echelon.  But he was not there to take back his title from the ten-year-old Baron Timmy.  He had the prophetic return of a God-King to worry about and the possible subsequent Apocalypse to prevent.

After smiting three score worth of bounty hunters looking his head (by royal decree no less), few people of ill intent even pondered bothering the eccentric cleric.  He spent most of his time using a long covered porch in the back of the Chateau as a war room, accepting guests, garnering intel from them, and barking back plans to execute.  Sitting at his feet was his wolf, Pathfinder.  The two shared an psychic connection, but the wolf knew things were better left unsaid and certain questions shouldn't be answered.

The Chateau's current owner, "Baron" Felix had been riding to the Cult of Apotheosis daily to return with a scouting report, but as a prominent citizen allied with Echelon, he was putting his life in danger.  He had met a young paladin of Akana, Sigard of the Slate Gap, and after much discussion with Echelon (and numerous attempts to confirm he was not one of the dread Spider-People dopplegangers that plagued the kingdom) he was offered the job of spy for the gathering masses.   The halfling villages also sent their finest riders on their fastest ponies to report to Echelon of the huge movements of monsters and tribes through the thick Nightwood Forest to the north.  Very oddly, most did not venture south to harass the halflings.  In fact, some of the orcs kindly apologized to the halflings for their intrusions, and quickly sped away.  Their destination?  Lake Apotheosis and the tombs of the ancient Ferasean kings.

23rd of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Kingdom of Crosedes
Sigard reported back that the Cult's encampment had swollen to be miles across.  Somehow, their priests were keeping the peace, even though King Cervinal,  "The Dread Lord" to our heroes, had ordered troops to patrol the ever-expanding outskirts.

Rumors from the far side of the encampment claimed that the Grimsong Clan of orcs from far-off Markovia had arrived along the river above the lake and had established a ferry service for humans and orc alike?  Surely, it must be madness, but madness had been par for the course recently.

24th of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Kingdom of Crosedes
Echelon's remaining adventuring companions were without their own worries.  Thorrin Slatebelt alternated his time between the small forge at the Chateau, and the much larger on in the village.  The dwarf was forging as many arrow tips, spear heads, while repairing anything the locals brought to him, free of charge.  He had befriended a mountain of man who volunteered to aid him at the village forge.  Beourn was a ranger from Ras-Prythax that had the same worries as the entire Chateau.  He was never vetted like Sigard, but spoke of "having the heroes and villagers backs," should the prophecy go south.

The strange eastern water mystic Kane did a variety of tasks throughout the Barony, healing pilgrims, aiding families departures before the 1st of DecDec and the appearance of the "God of Goodness and Light, and reinforcing some of the defenses of the Chateau.  No matter what happened, the Chateau, not the village of Eding was to be the last line of defense, in order to let the last few locals a chance to escape, should things to horribly, horribly wrong.

Echelon's mentor, Mohammad, was perhaps the most powerful holy man on this side of the kingdom, yet he still showed no signs of recovering from the moment he was able to become a conduit for his god, Tshang Kai Ching.  The divine power scrambled his brain, and the already legless priest still spend most days in a second story broom closet, hiding from the open air.    But when Echelon took a moment away from his back porch command post, he had noticed his teacher staring out an open window in the bleak winter weather.  For such a cryptic prophet, he seemed resigned to the fate of the world... and his friends.

26th of NonDec 1072 - Barony of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
Kane was never a heavy drinker, but with the impeding doom/divine nirvana merely eleven days away, a trip to the Blue Wizard Inn seemed to be in order.  Outside the establishment, the militia was doing their best job possible moving the mass of humanity moving towards Lake Apotheosis, but there was a different commotion distracting most people.  The remaining people in town were either too brave, too poor, or too stubborn, having survived goblin invasions eleven years prior, then a series of plagues, droughts, and tornadoes that preceded Echelon's rule.

It seemed that some of the stalwart old timers were chucking rocks at a gigantic (6'2") elf.  It took an appearance by Captain Torm Touchberry of the Baronial Militia to disperse the locals, but he was equally unhappy by the elf.  The elf was a former travelling companion of Torm's, a loudmouth elf cleric who nearly brought on the goblin invasion all by himself.  He and Torm were the only members of the adventuring party to come back and face charges of dereliction of duty in defense of the village, although this elf, Markuus Brightelm, disappeared before trial.   His arrival was a bad omen, and a worse one for Touchberry.  If Markuus was here to atone for his sins over a decade ago, something horrible was going to happen on the first of Undec.  Torm swallowed his pride, bought Markuus a drink, and the two caught up.

31st of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Kingdom of Crosedes
More reconnaissance confirmed orcs moving up from Masgoth, en masse, right alongside gnomes.  The lizardmen of the southern marshes were acting as police to the keep the two groups from interacting.

32nd of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Kingdom of Crosedes
Desperate pilgrims from Ruuna were first to report it, but actual barbarians from the distant plains of Galmar were peacefully riding down the road from Ruuna to find a late spot in the ritual.  Once word of them reached Echelon, he demanded an audience, expecting his friend and former adventurer Rolf Wolfsblood with them, but alas, he was not.

32nd of NonDec 1072- Chateau d'Echelon, Kingdom of Crosedes
Reports of kobolds, hobgoblins, and even an army of minotaurs were matched by rumors of King Cervinal himself nearing the Lake, along with a good portion of the Crosedes military in tow.

35th of NonDec 1072 - Village of Eding, Kingdom of Crosedes
In all the pomp and circumstance one could muster from a long, muddy early winter march, General Norm Dingleberry rode into Eding from the East, escorting nearly 2,8000 soldiers the dwarf had commanded while they freed the Duchy of Ruuna from the hands of the Skyforge Dwarves.

After a great ceremony, Echelon rode from the Chateau to greet him.

In two days, they would gather their friends and reach the gargantuan encampment of the Cult of Apotheosis (Cult of Light) to see the prophesied arrival of the God of Goodness and Light back onto this earthly plane of existence.    But for now, it was time to drink and regale their new allies with tales of their fallen comrades.

DM Notes: The Apocalypse is upon us, but for Echelon, Kane, and the others at the Chateau, there was only time to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.  The arrival of Norm meant that there was still hope their other friends, many long missing, might return to aid them in their time of need.

Or the return of  God of Goodness and Light was legitimate and a time for great rejoicing!

The actual finale of the campaign was run at Griffon Games, the game store I managed.  We closed up early on a Saturday, brought everyone in with snacks and booze, and played till until completion. We did allow three new players to bring in some characters to fill in some gaps.  Sigard is a character run by Albert U, whose actual character name is lost in time.  Beourn was Matt B's long-running ranger, and Mike Dalcin returned to the campaign world with the same character he had played years ago, Markuus Brighthelm, a super strong wild-elf cleric with a loud personality and zero filter.  We may cover his exploits sometime in the future, but for now, the response by the long-time villagers to him was quite warranted.

Next: #64 - The God-King Arrives!

(Wayback Wednesday) Hackmaster in Wooly's Attic

This is a picture of our Hackmaster game in the attic of Wooly's house in South Side Easton, circa 2002.   I've used it on and off for the picture in the header (pic with Gaming with the Gnomies in it).   If we get to play Hackmaster, it may reappear.

(L-R) Wooly, Scott, Nichols, Dalcin, Hoyce, Balls, and my fat belly behind the screen.

Sorry, no Cheetos, although the Taco Bell cups might have Mountain Dew.

#RPGaDAY2015 Day #16: Longest Game Session Played

I've never been one for Ironman D&D.  For a game that requires critical thinking and tactics, the idea of Mountain Dew and Cheeto-induced sleep deprivation is not appealing in the least.  DnD Army Game. 

My longest role-playing session goes back twenty years to what I've simply labelled, the "Army" game.

I had launched another 2nd Edition AD&D game using my campaign world of Georic.  Half of the players I had plucked out of my Reserve unit and the other half were the old reliables from high school.  Everyone got along swimmingly, due tot the combined hatred of Dalcin's annoying but competent elf cleric/bodybuilder Markus.   A few of my Army friends had wives and families but since we normally wrapped up by 9:30/10pm, they were asleep by the time they got home.

One night, and only one night, everyone realized that we were all off the next day (We gamed on Wednesday nights, not a small task.)   Thus the challenge was laid down, with a quick run for late-night pizza and soda and some calls to some wives to avoid immediate divorce proceedings, we began gaming. 

We started at 6pm, and by 4am, I was the lone survivor, passing out blankets to gamers who fell unconscious on the stairs.    I can't even tell you what happened that session. 

It was awesome, but I'm quite happy with my 3-5 hour session within normal waking hours.

Hackmaster: The Journey of Mutumbo #11: Finally Hydincall!

It's been a long time since I posted an Actual Play report from my old Hackmaster group, but I found the next one 3/4 written in my email.

The previous entries can be found here.  I may set up a page for this and Cthulhu for a more enjoyable reading experience... or something like that.

Mutumbo: Nubian warrior who completed a quest for his tribe.  Now wandering in search of adventure.
Cecelia Darkspruce: half elf cleric/sorority girl of Sif. 
Lord Ralphus:  Pixie Fairy who thinks he's king of the world
Kalin Sworin:  Human cleric of Akana.  Looking for his brother Dalmar (former PC, now deceased).
The Drow with No Name:  very "mysterious" Drow fighter.

The group continued on to the Crosedean capital of Hydincall.  Outside of the village of Shrewsdale, they rescued a small boy from quicksand and spent a second night there as small heroes.

The next night the pixie fairy was acting strange at the encampment, mumbling, picking fights, and trying to set the donkey on fire. The next morning some of the party's equipment was gone, as well as the Lord Ralphus and the donkey.

When the group arrived at the gates of the massive captial, they asked
around, and yes, people did remember seeing the pixie fairy and the donkey. In fact, the donkey was just a few feet away from them, completely stripped of supplies!

Angered, Cecelia leaves the group to hit a small shrine to Sif and begins a hopeless mission of finding their stuff and bringing the thieves to justice. Disenbowling a certain pixie fairy would just be a fun hobby.

Back at the inn, Mutumbo finally came clean with Kalin, admitting that he knew Dalmar was missing since there visit to the village of Orlane.  He told another white lie that Dalmar had scheduled a rendevouz point in Hydincall if they ever got separated.  Kalin seemed fine with the situation, so long as he could eventually see his brother.

The Drow with no Name left with the inn with a man named Game and dwarf named Steve, and partied.
The other mopey PCs met Markus the elf, and he volunteered to help find Dalmar.

The serving boy announced that there was a dead gnome in the outhouse.  Kalin performed last rites and contacted the guard for burial. When Kalin returned, the inn was aflame, but all their remaining supplies were saved by Cecelia. The serving boy Dimitri offered his place (roommates with Game and Steve) and the group crashed.
As the group emerged from the party home of Game and Steve, they staggered into a carnival atmosphere.  It was the Hydincall (world) Gladiator Championships!  Pit fighters from all over the world descended onto Crosedes and their 30,000 seat arena to show off their prowess.  Markus and Mutumbo went to arena to inquire about fighting, while Kalin volunteered his healing services for the games as a penitence for his sins.  All were accepted. 

After an opening extravaganza worthy of a magical Olympics, the low level fighting began, as did the rain.  The rain came down in buckets and flooded the arena floor into a muddy mess, but not not one person left the stands, instead they screamed for more.  The matches themeselves turned into mud wrestling matches with weapons, and since most bouts were fought until one fighter simply submitted, the crowd became agitated. 

Finally it was time for Markus and Mutumbo to fight a quick bout before a larger bout involving multiple combatants and monsters was to commence.  The duo saluted the King in the stands, saluted each other....

and then the King stopped the fight.  The downpour turned into something more akin to a tropical storm than a lazy day of rain.  For the sake of the spectators and gladiators, the rest of the program for that day was cancelled.  They were more than welcome to return the following day for more excitement... and the early rounds of the "pro" tournament. 

The crowd grew angry, even to the point at hurling objects at the king's magically protected box.  Fearing some sort of riot, Markus and Mutumbo, looked at each other, nodded, and charged in combat.

Try as they would like, the pair attempted at staging an elaborate combat was futile.  The mud slowed them down too much.  However, when they decided to change the tempo of the fight from periods of furious combat, then allowing each other a moment of recovery, the crowd was reined back.  The two were still mud covered, but upright giving it everything they had, followed by some grandstanding by one as the other recovered. 

As the roar of the crowd grew, so did the accuracy of and damage dealt by the blows.  Kalin was forbidden to use magic and the combatants were getting worn down fast.  Finally, in a moment of martial prowess, Markus hit Mutumbo with tremendous force and the Nubian fell to the ground.  Kalin dashed out onto the arena floor, and Cecelia jumped from her seat to help her friend.  Only their combined efforts brought back Mutumbo from certain death. 

(Markus rolled a nat 20 on his combat roll.  The subsequent critical hit roll brought Mutumbo to -8.  The combined healing of the clerics was just enough to get him back to 2.)

The crowd loved every minute of it.

Of course, no one else wanted to go out and fight that day, forcing thousands of angry fans to riot through the city.   Markus and Mutumbo's fight is credited with keeping the disturbance at a minimum, although the torrential downpours that kept fires from burning out of the control and spreading probably helped too.
(Dalcin, the Pixie Fairy player was tiring of the ineffectiveness and general insanity of the player and decided he would officially go crazy and steal the party's stuff.  This would make the party appreciate the new character's generosity and accept him into the group.  Ironically, Markoos was the name of another elf back in my College AD&D game during the mid-90s.  That character was far more annoying and needed to be knocked down a few pegs before becoming one of the champions of equal rights for the elves in a humancentric world. 

The Hydincall Gladiator Championships was another development from that campaign, and whenever some city adventuring gets more investigative that combat-driven, I let the warriors in the party blow off some steam.

(Twelve Days) #5 - My Biggest Success as a Player (RPG)

Last year I covered my biggest failure as a GM. This year I figured to do a complete 180 and do my biggest success as a player.

This is definitely tougher than last year. Last time I had to qualify failure within a large body of work. This time it is a sparse series of choices.

Pastuphan: My GURPS Humanx alien raccoon who could barely make it through the first adventure (based off a Chip 'n Dale Rescue Ranger episode I might add) to fighting off swarms of Verm in the final adventure.

Prego of Lyon: a mutant human with lion like features (and photosynthetic skin) in Gamma World 4th edition. How our group got through Famine in Far-go I'd beyond me.

Valerius and Yuri the Healing Guy from a Basic D&D game. They both got to fifth level!

E.B. Borgstrom and Banjo Joe, my two Call of Cthulhu characters who survived, and didn't do much, mind you.

Cephas: My stock AD&D Elf Bowman who has had many a Christmas adventure, when we're not running Toon reject elves?

Believe it or not, unless I take a stretch and start including my Rifts Cyber-Knight, a Werewolf from a one-shot World of Darkness session, a Star Trek: Next Gen dude, a radio operator from Recon, or numerous forgetable super hero one shots, there's not much else to work with. And I can't begin to include convention PCs, like William of Arinka and Marino Hernandez, Star Wars tramp freighter captain. I primarily GM, and have been doing so for nearly 25 years.

That being said, here's my top 3

#3 - Gary the Flying Guy: Gary was my character given to me for my very first game of TWERPS (The World's Easiest Role Playing Game.) He was the helicopter pilot during a zombie apocalypse (It was '94, we were always ahead of the curve). His strength was 4 and he got +1 to all piloting rolls. That's it. It was such a revelation to play such a basic and simple character. Plus it involved more quick thinking that die rolls for the group to survive. I don't remember if the Kermitnator made an appearance (Yes, the Kermitnator, a cyborg amphibian from the future), but such a rules light approach stuck with me ever since. Ironically, I have most of the TWERPS books at my desk at work today. Great material to develop the Gnomish Space Marines.

#2 - Sabeth Joachim: Outside of GMing RPGA stores, I rarely got a chance to be a playing for a in-store session. That whole running a business, dealing with customer, etc. just got in the way. The one time I did was a 2nd Edition AD&D run by Mike Dalcin. Like most harried store campaigns, it was an eclectic mixture of newbies, junior high munchkins, and slackers with nothing better to do on a Thursday night. Of course, this means that my character was thrust into a leadership role, barking order, soothing egos, and trying not to get slaughtered before we left the town on the first quest. Sabeth was probably the most "average" character stat-wise, a simple fighter in a crowd of handbooks, kit, and sub-classes. The difference with her was with my years of tactical GM experience, I took 1% of that and kept her out of trouble. I also realized that the regular attendees had two issues: 1. They were more ravenous with magic items "they could use" than a regular group and 2. We had no thief. Sabeth solved both issues herself. Despite being one of the more dominant (and surprisingly effective) characters, she would defer magic items like armor and weapons to appease the others. She faired quite well enough with studded leather, a minor dex bonus, and penchant for avoiding combat. However, she did take an extra share at the bottom, which meant all-class scrolls, miscellaneous potions, and a ring of invisibility fell into her lap. She became the party pseudo theif/scout and somehow did not die, despite all the traps, pits, and poisoned needles thrown at us.

#1 - The Naked Roast Nazi: First, a shout out to Todd in Pen Argyl, PA! Second, yes, you read the name right. Todd was a regular miniatures customer at Griffon Game. I think he may have been the main person responsible for the expansion of the Reaper line. With the store closing, we struck up a conversation and I was invited into his home game. It was a big honor, as I believe he had been playing with the same crew for somewhere around a decade and had just finished up a five year weekly campaign. With a hybrid 1st/2nd Edition game with cherry picked parts of all the fantasy heartbreakers thrown in for good measure, I figured I'd start with a concept character, and if he died, I'd go more in depth into the system with the next one. With DM approval, I went with a Halfling Wizard with some cooking non-weapon proficiencies. Todd's response? "Hey, why not?"

The campaign was definitely sandbox, mid-risk, low sandbox to be exact. We wandered around the wilderness, following rumors of treasure. My little wizard (his name lost in the epochs of time) found little use with a sling, a dagger, and a staff that usually doubled as the spit for whatever we were killed for food. It wasn't much, but life was good.

At some point, we had killed a bear, or boar, and had set up the spit to roast it. We had set camp at the edge of a lake and he rest of the party wandered off to see what they could see, gather herbs, etc, leaving me with the food... and the laundry. When the roast was done I stripped down to nothing and bathed myself and our spare clothes at the same time.

The absolute perfect time for three goblins to smell our food and wander into camp.

Waist deep in the water (and still naked) I ran out to grab the only nearby weapon... my staff/spit. Trying to scare them off, I screamed for help and swung the roast beast meancingly.

And rolled a nat 20.

One goblin out for the count, I shimmied the food off my weapon and went after goblin #2. Hit. Dead.

As the party began to return, they saw the halfling, naughty bits exposed, beating the third goblin with what was a moment previous, a cooking implement.

The halfling's name wasn't used from then on out, just Naked Roast Nazi. In this world we assumed it meant "Brave Halfling Warrior" rather than nude fascist chef.

Almost as funny, until the time that work got the best of me and I had to drop out, the halfling could only hit if he was in some state of disrobement. Fully geared up, he could hit a lake if he was droppred into the center of it.

...and that's all I'm going to say about that.

A meeting with Mr. Dalcin...

So, this past weekend I had the good fortune of meeting up with my buddy Mike (we tend to use his last name primarily, so henceforth he'll be Dalcin). I met Dalcin in the reserves, he was the horribly annoying high school junior with little respect for authority and no filter.


Our one connection? D&D. Despite an unhealthy love for Raistlin (sp?) from the Dragonlance novels, he was the catalyst for my second big D&D campaign, which I refer to nowadays as The Army game. This game developed the depth of subsequent campaigns: The Instability of the main village of Eding, Sargeant-of-Arms Torm Touchberry, Krull and Theron, and a mercenary company, and making non-descriptive gladiator combat such a big hit.


The game broke up when our unit was deactivated and we parted ways until Griffon Games was started up in Wind Gap. Dalcin lived between Bath and Wind Gap and was a constant customer. He was a consistent force within our Battletech, Necormunda, Mordheim, and RPGA games. Of course, it could be argued that his bounced check began the downward spiral of a store run on a tight margin, but I don't hold that against him.

When I started up my Hackmaster campaign, Mike was already on my short list of players. He ran numerous quirky characters that equally promoted role-playing and drove the other players of the Burning Trogs batshit crazy.

After Hackmaster, outside of Facebook, we fell out of touch. It was great to see him. His personality is much more subdued and he has decided to make some changes in his life, but it doesn't affect is drive to game. We discussed gaming and our apathy towards 4e, and followed that with a solid game of Gnome Wars. We finished the final scenario in the rulebook, Battle for St. Gothards Pass with his Germans getting into the Swiss village with heavy casualties. It was a grand time, and he's certainly invited to our summer games. At worst, I'll send Nichol's address to the unemployed Dalcin and see what exciting gaming starts... hehehehehehe