Friday, October 30, 2015

Attack on Eyrie Island

Captain Beefheart looked at his bedraggled crew as they boarded The Skidmark.  He wondered why some of his landing party seemed to be recovering from symptoms similar to being hungover.  He noticed that one crew member, “Mad” Andrew Stevens, was on a litter that had to be hoisted aboard.

“Bosun Jameson!  Wha' be yer report?”

“Birds, Cap’n.  Damnable birds.”

“Birds, Jameson?  Wha' do ye mean?”

“ 'Twas th' damnedest thin', Captain.  Big thin's, they were.  Like a scallywag, but wit' three arms, bird heads, 'n green feathers.  They didna speak, at least as far as we could tell, but they ran up on us quick-like 'n we scuttled em.  All o' them.  They were led by a brown female, I reckon.  Mad Stevens cut her down quick-like on his way t' th' ship.  

“When they hit ye, 'twas wit' these damnable wee…wands.  They didna cut ye, but yed feel light-headed 'n 'twas hard-like t' concentrate.  They dropped th' crewman in th' red shirt, as well as me, Isabelle 'n Ira.  'Twas fortunate-like that Stevens was thar.  He was a thrice-damned force o' nature.  He was cuttin' down birdmen, singin' chanties at th' top o' his lungs 'n savin' us from becomin' captives.  If it werena fer 'im, ye’d be sendin' a second landin' party t' find us, that’s fer sure!

“Anyway, we scuttled th' damned lot o' them 'n then ransacked thar village.  We found some gold, but also some eggs.  Well, those damned eggs hatched quick-like 'n th' wee buggers attacked us.  I guess they were starvin'.  They hurt Stevens pretty good, that’s why he‘s on th' litter.  'twill take 'im a while t' recover, Cap’n”

“I’m glad ye all made it back t' th' ship, Bosun.  Well done.  By th' by, wha's that large parcel bein' hoisted onto th' deck?”

“Meat, Cap’n.  Crazy-like thin's they were, but I be bettin’ they taste like chicken!”


Let me preface this account with a fact:  My basement mocked me all night.  I searched diligently, but never found my longboats, seed dice, or grass huts.  I think a total dismantling of the basement and labeling session is in order…but I digress.

It was a fun night of gaming.  My ‘crew’ was Jon Mark, Ken and Bill.  Bill brought some Moose Drool brown ale, so the night started with very good beer and easy banter.  I played my ‘secret’, the wonderful pirate metal band, Alestorm, in the background for mood music.  After re-familiarizing ourselves with the characters, their special abilities and how the game, Flashing Steel, is played, we were off.

My idea for this scenario is that the “birdmen” (Mage Knight Talon Warriors) were to capture the landing party and lock them in a cage that looked vaguely like a bird’s home.  To do this, the birdmen were given the Drain ability.  This skill doesn’t cause physical harm in combat.  Instead, the hit character finds it harder and harder to activate.  In this game, the party was getting drugged into submission.  

I purposefully made the odds 2:1 against the characters in order to trigger the second part of the island’s plot.  Alas, it wasn't to be, as I had three rounds where I rolled too boldly and managed to turn the game over to the pirates.  Ken also thought the birds were ducks in a shooting gallery, as he was able to kill several by night's end.  The birdmen did manage to drug four of the party, but Mad Stevens and Mr. Harrison were still on their feet when the last creature fled.

One note:  Never, ever pause in your sentence when it starts with "Do you want my seaman...".  I'm looking at you, Bill.

I also apologize for the blurriness of some of the photos.  I was trying to take the pics too quickly, I suppose.

A bird's eye view of the adventurers emerging from the jungle.

Starting to feel surrounded...

Look at it from our angle.


Friend or foe?  Just shoot it and ask later!

The noose tightens...


I'm gonna shoot it in the goose hole!

Out of action, but having happy dreams...

Ira making a break for the beach.

Mad Stevens aids a friend.
Again, a wonderful night, even if the plot didn't turn out like I'd imagined.  Thanks for looking!