Skyfell Campaign: Session 18
Skyfell Introduction
The cast is:
Session 18: Clockworks of Carnage - Blue Screen of Death
Preparation
For a variety of reasons, this session had to be remote for everyone. Some of the prep, then, went into figuring out how to best arrange the table so that I could both broadcast the map and myself to the stream. This involved creating a separate Discord account just for the map camera so that I could run it and my usual account at the same time with two cameras. Unfortunately, most of my hardware just isn’t up to the task of streaming live video of any appreciable quality. This presented several difficulties during the game-play and required some ad-hoc re-configuration along the way.
Aside from the technical considerations, I needed a whole new area of the map. Most of my efforts went into creating that area, along with a number of encounters and other “puzzles” for the players to work through. It was pretty fun, actually, because I haven’t had to create new content for a while. Unfortunately, because I focused so singularly on that new region, I completely forgot to flesh out other portions of the story that really needed it. Being a dungeon master sometimes like being a project manager.
So, yeah, in the week working up to the session, I was kind of busy. It played out in some very strange ways too, proving yet again that no matter how much you prepare things can still go sideways.
Pre-game
There was very little pre-game interaction this time because we were all playing remotely. I also did not have to make a meal. I decided to exclude the music this time since its presence disproportionately disrupted the audio on the stream, making it even more difficult to hear what I was saying.
In-game
“Well,” Constable Manfred said, “I suppose I should explain this.”
Manfred said that the doors opened into another plane but he neither had a key to open them nor had ever seen them opened. His general task was to keep an eye on the doors to make sure nothing came through them. He didn’t know, however, what exactly was on the other side.
The party wasn’t buying it and they pressed him for details.
Reluctantly, he added that he was working with the Eyes of Tescalein, the intelligence organization run by the copper dragon that ruled all of Skyfell. His primary contact was Overseer Aleph Prime on Doraku. He was told nothing much beyond that because he was a low-ranking security guard within a much larger organization.
The party was having none of this and immediately fired more questions at him. He couldn’t answer most of them. This left everyone distrusting him further. It did occur to our heroes that they still had their own coins from their first trip to the Shadowfell (back in Session 10) and that these might be used to open the doors. They could therefore enter the passages without Manfred.
But that would have to wait. Their original purpose for coming into the tunnels was to track down D84. They arrived at a plan to regroup the next day since it was getting on into mid-gloom. They would use the Find Object spell to try to track down D84’s ID badge and in so doing track down D84 itself. The delay would also give the team a chance to get properly prepared for a fight if it came to that.
The next day, they tracked the badge to a small storage area beneath the maintenance shed. From there, the party proceeded through a hidden door to a secondary room where D84, several other constructs, and Infernal Stalker (Queen Tinker’s clockwork) were gathered. All seemed to be shut down. Tauffae and Oma entered first, the orc taking up an offensive stance against D84 while Oma quietly looked over the constructs. Bronte and Meribore came in next. Drekzhar brought up the rear. It wasn’t until Drekzhar entered that D84 awoke.
This triggered Tauffae, who immediately took several swings at the construct. (He’d been thoroughly freaked out by this thing since first setting foot on the island and he was quite twitchy by this point.) Oma joined in with a few attacks of his own. Drekzhar briefly tried to communicate with D84, but the situation had already become too volatile and too chaotic as the other constructs awoke and attacked the party.
One entity that was not caught up in a fight was Infernal Stalker. It seemed to be dizzy, confused, and having great difficulty getting up. It, in fact, was moaning and gasping.
The fight was difficult in such close quarters. A couple Shatter spells and a cleverly deployed Heat Metal spell accompanied by several whacks from blunt objects and pointy things eventually brought about the destruction of the constructs and D84. (As a sidebar, while Heat Metal says it only targets an object, I allowed its use against D84. I get it. The spell explicitly says objects and D84 is a creature...but on Sage Advice, Mike Mearls said he'd allow it in his game so I allowed it in mine.)
Only Infernal Stalker remained functional. The clockwork continued to produce guttural noises that could easily have been moans of pain or even...sobs.
Disturbed, Oma immediately went to examine the clockwork. Bronte and the others helped the construct to its feet. Slowly, and with great effort, Infernal Stalker managed to ask for help.
“Who are you?” Oma asked.
Through what could only be described as rasping breath, Infernal Stalker answered, “Strong-cog.”
For a moment, no one recognized this name. Then, Meribore recalled seeing that name at the gift shop. It was Queen Tinker's real name.
When asked, Infernal Stalker confirmed that this was indeed the truth. With more pained effort, she added that she was empty inside.
“Who did this to you?” Oma asked.
With further exertion, Queen Tinker answered, “Stomper.”
This was a shock.
The group took a moment to discuss what to do next with this new information. There was clearly something very dangerous going on and now they knew that The Stomper was behind it all. They recalled that Taren Dask had been shunned by the clockwork-fighting community because of his extreme beliefs. He had been killed because of his experiments regarding the transfer of his soul into a clockwork body. Stomper had clearly done this to Queen Tinker. So, there must be some connection between The Stomper and Taren Dask.
The adventurers had two goals now. They wanted to take Queen Tinker to the Temple of Gond to see if there was anything that could be done for her. They also wanted to track down The Stomper. Both felt equally critical and equally important. So, they decided to split up. Bronte and Oma would take Queen Tinker (whose spirit/soul was trapped inside Infernal Stalker) to the temple. Drekzhar, Meribore, and Tauffae would head out for the administrative building to start looking for The Stomper.
With that in mind, the group split.
On their way to the temple, Queen Tinker was slowly gaining more control over Infernal Stalker’s body. Her speech was also clearing up. It seemed like in a few hours she would be past whatever trauma she was currently experiencing. What came next could not be known. When the group emerged from the tunnels, it was still morning. Even so, the citadel seemed more quiet than usual. There were fewer constructs out on duty. There didn't seem to be as many customers either.
Drekzhar, Meribore, and Tauffae also noticed this unusual stillness as they emerged from the tunnels. Worse, Meribore became aware of a change in the heartbeat of the citadel. It now felt more similar to that of Doraku and Moss Creek when The Glutton had been exerting his power. At the same time, Drekzhar became sure he felt the citadel changing course.
It was then that a crow landed upon a branch of a nearby tree and cawed.
End session 18.
Bronte - 2900 (24,182 total)
Drekzhar - 2900 (24,903 total)
Meribore - 2918 (24,126 total)
Omagoshno - 2900 (24,749 total)
Tauffae - 2900 (24,344 total)
Additional Thoughts
I’m not going to lie. This session was one of the most frustrating and disappointing that I can recall. And I’m including all the RPGs I’ve run over the last 20 years. Between technological issues, my lack of preparedness for the path the players chose, certain story details that I completely derailed because I had simply forgotten them, and other issues, I had absolutely no fun. In fact, it was as opposite of fun as one can get.
I understand that some sessions just go sideways. Those years of experience make that an intellectual reality I fully accept. But this fail hit me particularly hard. I felt sick afterwards.
I decided to postpone any further sessions until either this whole COVID thing got its act in order or I worked out a better technological solution. In hindsight, however, that was just an excuse because I was feeling very much like I did not want to play Dungeons and Dragons any more. The thought of giving up this game left me feeling, well, empty inside. And that void threatened my enthusiasm for another game I’m remotely playing. I wanted to withdraw. Sheltering in place only makes it that much easier to fade away. Over the next couple of weeks, a handful of both micro-events and macro-events just brought me down even further. And sure, I did post a few entries to my blog since then, but these were a smokescreen. They were an attempt to hide what I was feeling...I did not want to game any more.
As a dungeon master, you are tasked with coming up with and co-telling a story that thrills and entertains a group of people. If you’re lucky, as I am, those people will be as invested as you are in their characters and in the story. If you’re even luckier, as I am, everyone will click either in real life or in-game or both. These elements, however, are no protection from a simple truth.
Dungeon mastering is, at its heart, an act of artistic creation.
As with any art form, the artist pours a certain amount of themselves into their creation. For some, this might mean exposing old wounds for public examination. For others, this might mean risking ridicule for being different. For still others, this might mean pinning a certain amount of their emotional comfort in the act of creating. The motivations are different for each artist, but what remains the same is that the artist leaves themselves vulnerable to the world at large. A failure here, then, is not just a matter of making a mistake at work. It’s a critical hit against the deepest aspects of the artist's psyche. This is especially true if that artist is a bit of a perfectionist who really needs their work to please, entertain, and thrill those who are consuming it.
That is the dark secret of being a dungeon master. And all of this is certainly true of me.
So, I fell. I retreated. I hid. (Fallout 76 is a wonderful place to hide.)
Eventually, I began to examine why this session had been so devastating. Maybe not surprisingly, I realized the session was only the trigger. It was the final strike coming quickly after so many other little things going on in my personal life and much larger things going on in the world at large. Individually, none of these things were particularly damaging to me directly. I mean, in the grand scheme, I’m not in a war zone. I have food. I have shelter. I have a job. My family and I are healthy. I'm not threatened by fires or hurricanes. None of these threats are happening to me. Collectively, though, what has been happening has worn me down. The thing keeping me afloat was this game. Perhaps that’s too much to pin on a game. But honestly, being a dungeon master means being an artist and I don’t know how else to go about it. My heart and soul is in this setting and with the story my players and I are conjuring.
The only thing I know to do is to keep doing.
And so that is how it is that I finally sat down to write this session summary no matter how much I dreaded it and worried over it. The writing is shite. I can own that. But I don't care. Its goal isn’t really to produce award-winning prose. It's not even really here for my players. Not this time. This post is for me. It's to get me doing. It's to give me a chance to rekindle the love and excitement I have for this game.
Look, 2020 has been the biggest pile of steaming feces that I can remember. My heart goes out to those who have lost loved ones, who have lost their jobs, and who have faced far greater adversity than I have. I'm not looking for sympathy. I am aware that I am coming from a position of privilege and I do what I can when I can for those who are not as fortunate as I am. I also acknowledge that an army of small troubles can be as bad as a single tragedy. This is especially true in the long run. And it's been a LONG run. All I know for certain is that adversity can be overcome with love and determination. All I can say to you and to myself is, "Hang in there. It does get better."
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