Game Summaries

[Metroknight]

Does anyone else then me like to make and/or read session summaries?

I create them for my game but I was wondering if anyone other then me like doing it?

[Hywaywolf]

I do most times. I sometimes make them way to wordy though

[SmootRK]

When I game with various friends, I try to write summaries of events of the session in a narrative sort of way to share among the group. I add details of experience points gained and other relevant bits at the end (acquired treasure, notable clues, etc.)

But, lately while just gaming with my children, I don't bother. They wouldn't see the point in the process at this age.

[MedievalMan]

Wow what a convenient post right Hyway?

EDIT

We also just finished our first session. everyone lived sadly.

[Hywaywolf]

Too true, MM.

Here is my all time favorite game night summary. I didn't write it. A guy named greyarea did. I played the PC named Kyber ...

The further adventures of Dorf and his motley crew.


Dorf sits in the tavern in Rivenfare, ale suds frothed in his mustache and beard. He's just buried a fellow Dwarf, a henchman he knew not well but who fought bravely. The others are off in various areas of the tavern (or getting resurrected) -- Formello whooping it up with maidens who appear as interested in his hat as in his talk, Kyber in his rooms with a woman he's purchased for "fine company", our halfling trying to score with a halfling maiden that makes Dorf look tall, and Meyer disappeared into the library to do some research. Dorf drinks deeply from his mug, telling the barmaid to keep them coming two at a time. The lack of Dwarven maids in the tavern is merely accentuating his surliness: he's sure he saw some the night before, flaxen beards glowing, breasts heaving, but none are to be found this eve. He is grouchy and his grouchiness can only be curtailed by maids, battle or ale, as far as he's concerned, and so he quaffs another.

Approaching Dorf are three younger dwarves, beards still short. Dorf recognizes them from the funeral for Stoneman, their Dwarven mercenary. They were very angry there, even though they didn't know the Dwarf who died, and blamed all of the "non Dwarfs" who hate Dwarven kind. Dorf recognizes them as Dwarf-supremacists who hate all non-Dwarfs as "inferior" and refuse to congregate with them. Dorf wonders for a second why they are in this cosmopolitan town, then decides he doesn't care. The three young Dwarfs spot him, ale running down his beard as he finished yet another stein, and make a beeline.

They sit as his table, a redhead, a dark one with a rat's nest of a beard, and a hefty one, even by dwarf terms. Dorf sighs as they pepper him with prattle and ask how Stoneman died and why the others in the party (obviously, to them) betrayed the Dwarf mercenary to his doom. They spout their racist patter and sneer as Dorf drinks deep. They comment on treachery and deceit, having overheard of the resurrection of our cleric, Thibbledorf, while the dwarf in our party was committed to explosive ashes. They spit on the power of the cleric, the gaiety of the elf, the untrustworthiness of the thief, and so on. Nothing but hate and ichor in their words. Dorf reaches his limit. He slams his stein down, eyes red with ale and rage.

"ENOUGH!" he growls. The young Dwarfs stop and stare. "You really want to know what kilt the brave Dwarf we shot into the sky today, you ignorant laddies? I'll tell you and tell you quick. He weren't betrayed by these giants nor were he kilt by treachery. He died like he stood -- fightin'. And for you to tell this idiocy about betrayal and murder is an insult to the truly Lawful Dwarfs you claim to represent."

The barmaid brings another set of ales and sets them before the thankful Dwarf. She wants to take the young Dwarfs' orders but Dorf tells her, "These young maggots get no ale today, missy. They will hear a tale of bravery then be off to think on what stupidity they spout."

The barmaid nods and walks away.

Dorf looks each young one in the eye, his bloodshot orbs sizing them up. They sit back as he stares each down.

"Stoneman we hired at Fire Wave Fortress, along with a human and a halfling. He knew what we were doing and he wanted a piece of the action. He was a mercenary through and through, hefting his knarley club his grandfather passed down to him. Those humans you despise so much bought him armor before our journey to keep him alive. You hear that, lads?

"Anyway, we rode off to Jade Castle, me on Slight Cough, my horse, and the others on theirs. It's a long journey but not too bad. We'd been there before. We set camp at the base of the castle and entered the caverns where adventure awaited. The halfling you see over there," he points to the now drunk halfling henchman and his female companion, "was our campmaster, watching our horses and camp while we descended."

"You left a halfling thief with your gear?" the redheaded Dwarf lad asks, sneer in his voice.

"Shut your trap, you!" Dorf spits back. "He is a fine little fella and he did a good job."

The redhead is taken aback. Dorf eyes them again.

"There will be no interruptin' my tale, you little curs! Else I'm kickin' your tails and you're out of here." They are cowed by this and wait patiently for Dorf to continue. The bouncer perks up hearing this and moves closer to the table of Dwarfs. Dorf decides whether to continue his tale for these young idiots.

Two ales later he does.

"So, we head into the depths under this Castle. Like I said, we've been here before and we headed to pick up where we had left off. Did I mention that last time we were here, the Elf with the big hat took down a dozen hobgobs himself?" He drinks deeply, muttering, "and me too," into his mug. The Dwarf lads are astonished by this, magic not being performed often in the Dwarf settlements.

"Anyway, so our mapmaker and rogue, Kyber, leads us to where he thinks treasure awaits. He'd been pouring over the map he'd made and figured something out. So we enter this room he leads us to and there in the middle is a bag o gold. Braving all for the party, Kyber then uses his head," Dorf loudly thumps his temple with a finger while staring down the Dwarfs, "to get the gold without setting off any traps. He's a pretty keen one and a lifesaver.

"While the gold is counted, we search the walls for secret passages. The keen-eyes of Formello discover a secret passage, leading to more gold, we hope. We head down, me n Stoneman leading the way."

"Why did you lead?" interrupts the hefty Dwarf. "Why not let the humans or the elf risk their necks?"

"Cause that's what Dwarfs do underground, you snotty nosed moron! We're good under the earth and we fight like the dickens. And, we're short enough that they can send arrows and sling-shots over our heads and into the melee without hurtin' us. We make excellent pointmen cause we are fearless and sturdy. Every good explorin' party needs a Dwarf or two, just like we need the magic of Elves and mages, the healing of clerics and the deft fingers of thieves. Well rounded, laddie, and not like your belly."

The barmaid drops off two more as the hefty one looks woefully at his waistline.

Dorf continues, "So we find our way to this room with a sarcophagus. There are skeletons and masonry tools around like some poor saps had walled themselves in, which made no sense ta me, cause there was a barred door there too. Kyber's all skittish with the skeletons -- seems he's been underground with undead meanies before -- and Thobbledorf, our cleric, is preparing himself for holiness in case these piles of bones spring to life.

"Nothing happens with the skeletons so I decide to open the sarcophagus lid, just to peek inside. As I get it jut a crack open, it opens by itself and a mummy sits up. He stank like rot and his eyes glowed with unholy fire."

Dorf surveys his young audience, who are now entranced. A few others at nearby tables have turned to listen in and Formello is listening too while still entertaining his female friends. Dorf swears he can see Kyber lurking in the shadows, his paid companion on the stairs upset like she's been jilted from her pay, and smiles as he downs another ale.

Dorf leans in, his voice huskier, and continues. "Kyber immediately throws a pot of flaming oil, smashing it into the ragged figure emerging from the tomb. The priest speaks holy words but the mummy doesn't acknowledge. The flaming, stinking corpse is out and he's coming for us. Half of us are frozen in unholy fear at this sight. My ax is leaden in my hands and I can't seem to swing it. The mummy smacks one of our henchmen who falls back, boils festering before he hits the floor. His screaming tells us he lives. An arrow of magical energy hits the monster but it doesn't halt the beast: out mage not strong enough in his abilities to kill it in a single shot. The mummy keeps coming, and we ready ourselves for the mighty battle, when the fire overtakes the creature and he falls in a smoldering mass. The room is smoky and stinks of rotting corpse and hell. We examine the corpse and the tomb, finding a scroll and a small chest.

"Our human henchman is quaking with disease, his face covered in boils and puss." The reaction of all who are listening is decidedly negative. "He's begging the cleric for healing but the holy man can't do a thing. 'Your illness is beyond my power,' he says. I can't take anymore and post guard at the hallway. The poor diseased mercenary whimpers and rests against the barred door, to listen and try to keep his shakes down.

"Kyber, our sneaky rogue, finds a hidden compartment in the bottom of the sarcophagus. Inside is another corpse, this one inanimate. Of course, a non-moving corpse gives no relief to the thief, a man paranoid beyond all belief, so he cuts of the head. I swear I heard the priest groan at this desecration. With the body they find jewelry which they pocket, passing it around to each of us to --"

"Heysh," a slurring halfling interrupts. Dorf looks at him annoyed, eyes like daggers. The halfling doesn't even notice as he staggers with drink. "Tell my lady frensh here," pointing at his halfling maid, "that I seesh a dragon."

"What?" Dorf exclaims. "What gives you the idea I would tell her that?"

"Come on," slurs the halfling, "you knowsh thersh a dragon in the cashhle and I seesh it."

Dorf rubs his face in his hand. He holds it there as he speaks, "Yes, there is a big green dragon that makes the castle his home. I'm sure the halfling had to fight it off to secure our camp while we were inside the underground ruins."

"Seesh?" the curly haired cook says to his halfling maid, "I'm a hero."

"Yeah, a real hero," Dorf says as he drinks deeply. There's not enough ale in the world, he's thinking. "He was the hero of our adventure and you should show him a hero's prize, missy."

The maid seems delighted in this and leads the stumbling halfing cook to the rented rooms. Dorf can't continue his tale until he downs four more ales. He's glad he doesn't get drunk like those other kin do, but he still wishes he could get drunk more quickly.

Wiping his mouth with his hand, Dorf says, "OK, where was I?"

"Mummy jewels," says an excited onlooker.

Dorf points at him, "You're right. So, we're looting this grave when the diseased feller at the door perks up. 'Someone's here,' he whispers as he points to the door. We assume fighting stances. I race to the door as the key unlocks it. The door swings wide and three frog-men stand at the door, evil blades in their hands. Their eyes are gleaming slickly and their tongues lick their chops. The door is hardly open when my ax is singing through the air and is buried in one of these froggies. It squeals horribly and blood spills on the floor.

"We all let loose, attacking the monsters from the swamps. The poor diseased guy takes an arrow in the back from a poorly placed shot and his screams fill the air. The frog-men lance at Stoneman and me with their sticky tongues, tearing out a bit of hair from Stoneman's beard but missing me completely.

"Just then, chaos breaks out. You know the ordinary chaos of battle?" A few in the bar nod knowingly and others nod but don't really know. Kyber, Formello, and I make note of those with obvious experience, considering replacing our fallen dwarf with another man-at-arms. "Well this isn't that kind of chaos.

"See the Elf in the big hat? He had a personal captive from a previous encounter; a small blue woman who floated in the air and talked like the sea foam. He had told her he would take her back to his people. He'd even entrusted with her a sword of magical essence that he's paid for with more money than most of you will make in a year. Well, seems his trust was a wee bit misplaced.

"She bolted. Of course Formello had to chase her: he needed his sword. And Kyber, getting set to send more arrows in his companions' backs, sends our mage-for-hire after him. As if frog men weren't enough."

("See, the tall human was shooting his companions in the back," says the dark Dwarf to the redhead. "You can't trust those humans." The redhead nods knowingly.)

Dorf shakes his head and drinks deeply. "In that chaos, I was momentarily distracted and a frog-man's blade snuck through." Dorf pulls his armor aside to show the jagged scar in his flesh, healed but still noticeable.

"Well, that was it. Stoneman got his club into one, and the two in the door were felled by mighty blows and missles of various shapes and sizes. Stoneman and I jump over the corpses and pursue the third. It takes off and I drop my ax and pull out my crossbow. One blot later and it falls to the floor, the fletches protruding from the back of its neck and the tip of the quarrel just sticking from the base of the frog man's throat.

"While Stoneman and I start looting these big uglies, the rest go and see what's happening with the Elf and his blue friend. Stoneman wants to cut off the legs of our froggy foes, hoping the halfling can prepare them. I disagree and we start arguing fiercely.

"You see, lads, Stoneman was a fellow dwarf, that's for sure, but he was also a stupid jerk. He would have eaten hobgoblin or horse, for all I know. He was quarrelsome and had a thick head. He truly thought his old club was better than my battle ax, and he wore a horned helmet of such size it was obvious he was trying to use it to heighten. Yes, we were brothers, kinmen. But I'd choose that foppish elf or the conniving thief or the brave cleric over him any day of the week."

The other dwarves are stunned by this. They see Dorf's point but can't reconcile it with their worldviews. They sit there, mouths agape.

"Anyway, he convinces me that if frog legs are tasty, then frog-man lags will be scrumptious. I agree and we begin hacking away at the slimy corpses on the floor. The others returned with the elf's blue girlfriend looking like she's cocooned. He has his sword that he offers to Strongman. We eat a bit and start off yet again. Thibbledorf heals me with words to his god and keeps my guts from spilling onto the floor.

"Kyber, always looking ahead, quizzes me on what I saw when I recovered the frogman body down the hall. Rows and rows of alcoves with coffins in them, I says. We decide to investigate and a few of us open the caskets. Thibbledorf is concerned, his holy symbol at the ready. He's already seen a living corpse attack us once today and was keen to not have a repeat.

"The corpses in the caskets don't move, just dead bodies. Kyber decides to pickpocket one: he's been looking for a key to the chest we found, you see? But just as he isn't good at opening locks, he can't pick a pocket to save his life. In an instant, the corpses eyes open and the zombies leap from their caskets."

The sharp intake of break around the tavern is quite loud; it seems a large crowd has gathered, hanging on the dwarf's words. Dorf looks around, smiling and content. He enjoys telling tales, and this is a good one.

"So here we are, in a hallway with zombies pouring down on us, their rotted flesh flailing as they swing at us. We can hear more caskets open, more zombies emerge, from down the hall. These ain't your average grave dwellers, neither. These zombies are fast, and they hit hard. They don't shamble so much as sprint to their prey. And we was that prey.

"A mighty swap and my dwarf comrade goes down, crushed with a single blow. He died with a full belly and a rock-hard head, he did."

Dorf quickly downs another ale.

"Kyber runs back to the room where the mummy still smoldered, all while trying to knock an arrow to his bowstring. We decide he's right this time: this ain't cowardice but sense. We beat feet back to a more defensible position and fight for our lives. Thibbledorf stands next to me at the doorway, his holy symbol his only defense. I think he tried to scare off these monsters with his holy presence but maybe he stuttered the words, cause they weren't phased. I have my ax out, clearing a path.

"Thibbledorf redoubles his holy effort and four of the zombies freak out. I thought they was fast before but they nearly bowled over their fellows making scarce of this place. More zombies yet come and he cries more holy words, calling on his deity for protection. More zombies flee yet more continue to attack. Thibbledorf calls more power from the heavens -- I can almost see him glow -- when a zombie crushes into him through his armor, smacking him hard against the door jamb. The force of the blow smacks his head hard against the banded steel of the heavy door, his helmet smashing him and his head opening like an egg.

"As his body slumps, we increase our fight, taking care of the last few zombies with missles and my ax. Had it not been for his bravery, his holy power, we would be rotting beneath that ruined castle, crushed by a zombie army."

He pauses at this, finishing his last ale. The barmaid offers more but he declines, sated for the moment. The retelling of the battle has rejuvenated his spirit like the ale failed to do. He faces the racist lads, smelling the ammonia of their wet breeches, and snarls.

"That is why we raise some from the dead but not others. We cannae raise them all and we decide on what's best for the party. We chose to revive one who is of true value rather than some quarrelsome mercenary. Although Stoneman was my kin and could have been my friend, his death saddening my heart, we had to revive the cleric, our companion and brave friend. For we will venture to those dark depths again and will encounter death again, and Thibbledorf's heroism and his deity's power will help keep us alive.

"You can hate on those that are of different races, laddies. You can remain ignorant to your dying days. But don't spout that garbage near me ever again, or your dyin' day will be this day!"

With that Dorf pushes the table away from him, knocking the three dwarfs over in their chairs. He steadies himself and heads to his rooms to sharpen his blade and oil his armor and weapons.

[Metroknight]

I just ran my latest session tonight and while writing up my summary it struck me that I just didn't see many session summaries. That got me to wondering if other people like them. The last session summary goes like this :

Session 7 : Through the woods we go.

summary : The group is joined the Lady of the House and two men. They traveled for almost two days with no encounters out of the ordinary until near the end of the second day. There they discovered the ruins of a small hamlet that was destroyed a week or two ago. This agreed with the very old scent of orcs being found by Rexus at their last campsite. After two of the group discovering the broken and burnt remains of the residents they decided to move on. Continuing on till almost night fall the group finds a place to set camp. While the tempature drops, the watches spot someone watching them. Morning arrives with quiet ease and camp is broken down with little fanfare other then Tyrk getting to wake up the Lady and inadvertently touching her soft warm flesh (of her bare arm) which causing him to rush out of the tent.

Would that spark someone interest or should I change the style somewhat? I know the grammar is off somewhat but I will touch it up after getting some sleep. I'm just wondering something like that would spark someone's interest or not.

[MedievalMan]

I am thinking about writing session summaries. Would you mind If i posted them here for now Metro?

[Metroknight]

I don't mind. go for it.

[MedievalMan]

Alright thanks. I am going to combine session one and two since one was so short. Again thanks.

[MedievalMan]

Second game went well. We lost two characters, I rolled 3 20's on a single attack volley, and the party fled like cowards into the night only to be ambushed by a goblin patrol. All in all a good session.

Will post the combined summary sometime soon.