The Clerics Three – Session 1 (5e)

We started a new 5e mini-campaign this past session. As we are just getting back into 5e after having been playing Savage Worlds for the last year plus, I thought it would be good to play a few sessions just for fun. Part of that “fun” included totally random characters using the tables from the “This is Your Life” section of Xanathar’s Guide to Everything…even names. Over pizza, the group “rolled” up their characters and we ended up with three clerics as the party:

• Delg, a Dwarven Cleric of Light played by RJ
• Otilia, a Human Cleric of Knowledge played Muse
• Pallas, a Human Cleric of Life played by Rachel

Once the characters were ready, we jumped right in. The Clerics Three…for whatever reason…were traveling together. They arrived in the small village of Oakheart and that’s where we started the game below the break.

I had downloaded a free adventure off of DM’s Guild, “A Most Potent Brew,” from Winghorn Press…a really nice little adventure…so there are, obviously, spoilers for it below the break. This write-up is from yours truly but my my GM comments are still in [brackets and italics] as usual.

After a few days on the road, the sight of a small village on the horizon was a welcome relief to the Clerics Three. With their throats caked with the dust of the road, they made their way directly to the tavern in the village square. [The name of the tavern was randomly determined from some tables I found online.] A wooden sign carved like an armadillo hung outside, painted as though it was wearing a floral pattern shirt and plaid pants […yeah, it got goofy right away.]

Entering, the group was greeted by a halfling behind the bar, warmly welcoming them to the Tacky Armadillo. [RJ’s fault…he rolled Tacky…Muse rolled Armadillo.] Most tables were relatively full, with one exception, and an entertainer was off to one side playing rather tacky easy listening adult contemporary. [I don’t think I ever envisioned playing a Barry Manilow station on Pandora, gaming or not.] The one exception was a table at which sat a lone halfling, looking rather glum. With mugs of ale in hand, the trio asked if they could join him. He consented if somewhat without enthusiasm.

Introducing himself as Roscoe Copperkettle, the halfling lamented being in the Tacky Armadillo. He complained about how horrible and depressing he found the music…especially given that he was already sad. The owner and head brewer of the Wizard’s Tower Brewing Company, Roscoe had recently sought to expand his business. First, he explained, he needed to expand his cellars for storing ale. Workman had only begun excavation on the expansion when they broke through into another structure. They were, almost immediately, set upon by giant rats. Not just large rats, mind you, but rats the size of large dogs. Now, he didn’t know what he was going to do or who he could turn to for help. {Hmmm…I wonder where or where he might find some adventurous types to help out.]

The Clerics Three immediately offered their assistance. Only slightly cheered, Roscoe tossed a small pouch of coins on the table and said that he would pay each of them the same if they could deal with the rat problem and make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Scooping up the pouch, he took his leave stating that he couldn’t take the music anymore; he’d be outside having a smoke if they decided to accept. Almost before he could get out the door, the clerics had made their decision.

Joining Roscoe outside, the trio let the halfling know that they’d assist with his rat problem and they were ready to deal with it now. The brewery was just a short distance away from the village and Roscoe led the way. On the short trip, he explained a little about his business including the origin of the brewery’s name. Local myth holds that a wizard once had a tower on the site where he built the brewery. [Hmmm…could that have anything to do with the giant rats?]

The brewery was busy with brewers and assistants going about their business. Roscoe led the group to a large trap-door and a set of descending stairs beyond. The cellar was at the bottom of the stairs as were the rats…if the workmen were to be believed. Assuring Roscoe that everything would be fine, the Clerics Three headed down to their first adventure, as the crooning of fantasy setting soft rock wafted across the brewery. [The entertainer, who apparently had a dislike of Roscoe, had followed much to the halfling’s annoyance.]

Barrels mostly filled the cellar below. A hole was spotted in the far wall, picks and shovels lying scattered around it. The smell of hops, grains, and wet fur was heavy as the trio cautiously descended. A quiet…but large…squeak was heard. As the trio started to cross the cellar to the opening, the scrabbling sound of claws on stone filled the cellar. A large number, more than twice that of the clerics, scrambled forth from their hiding spots amidst the barrels and shadows of the cellar.

The Clerics Three were outmatched as well as outnumbered. The giant rats, the size of big dogs as Roscoe had said, darted about, deftly avoiding mace and axe or shifting such that a fatal blow become glancing. The cramped quarters and dim light did little to aid the brave adventurers. They had difficulty avoiding the attacks of the rats. [It also didn’t help that I rolled a few crits and hit with almost every attack.]

Soon the Clerics Three was reduced to a divine duo and then to just one particular preacher. And then, sadly, there were none…

The Clerics Three woke at their campsite along the road they had been traveling. It had been Delg’s turn to cook the night before and he had promised that the mushrooms he found in the nearby woods were a delcicacy, protesting in the morning that he know nothing of any psychedelic (or prophetic) properties that would have led to the Clerics Three sharing the same dream.

Pressing on, they reached the village of Oakheart and headed straight for the village tavern. Outside it hung a wooden sign, carved in the likeness of an armadillo and wrapped in rusty chains. As the door was opened, harsh, loud, and thumping music spewed out. Inside, a halfling with long hair hanging in his face, shouted out, “Welcome to the Rusty Armadillo! Woooo!” [We re-rolled the adjective and Pandora got changed to a Metallica station.] The tables within were largely occupied by long-haired humans and halflings who were rocking their heads back and forth in time to the noise supplied by a group of half-orc “entertainers” off to one side. They all seemed to be enjoying the chaotic ruckus of the band, with one exception. A lone halfling sat at one table, hands over his ears, sipping an ale from a straw.

Shouting out to ask if they could join him, the halfling nodded his assent. He quickly shouted out how much he hated this place. The Clerics Three roared back a question about why he was here. Roscoe bellowed back that he was looking for help with a little problem he had. This began a short deja vu conversation for the Clerics Three as they half-predicted and half-completed nearly every sentence that the halfling yelled out. In little time, he tossed out a small pouch and offered that to each of them if they could help with his giant rat problem. Scooping up the pouch, he shrieked out that he’d be outside awaiting their response.

The Clerics Three pretty much accompanied the halfling outside and agreed to the task. Roscoe Copperkettle introduced himself and explained that he was the owner and head brewer of the Wizard’s Tower Brewing Company. As he started to explain, the group “guessed” at the origin of name for Roscoe’s business. Followed by the half-orc “musicians” and their fans (apparently they had a dislike of Roscoe and liked to annoy him with their music), the group arrived at the brewery. Humans and halflings were busy inside, doing, well, brewery stuff. Roscoe led the trio to a trap door that led to stairs descending down to the cellar and the giant rats.

With the harsh tones of an orcish love song reverberating in the brewery, the Clerics Three descended. As they reached the base of the stairs, they quickly scurried to a defensive stance near a side wall. As they reached the wall, rats swarmed out from their hiding spots, easily outnumbering the heroes two to one. The battle was short and bloody…at least for the rats. In just a few moments, all of the rats lay dead and the cellar was silent, outside of the heavy breathing of the heroes and the thumping of the music from above.

Heading to the hole in the wall [some 4 feet and 3 feet wide], Delg could see a corridor of worked stone beyond, perpendicular to the opening. Peering in, the passage to the left led to a stairway that was collapsed. Delg’s keen dwarven senses told him that digging it out without proper equipment would likely lead to further collapsing. The passage to the right went about thirty feet before turning to the left. Engraved letters, softly glowing golden, were on the wall just before the turn. Heading down to a position where they could read the writing, the group saw the following:

The floor of the passage, just around the corner, had a large and colorful mosaic, filling the width and extending some twenty feet in four panels of five feet each. It depicted a rural scene showing the sun, sky, hillside, and river…all with the sun at different heights in the sky. The fourth panel was at night and had a campfire of sorts on the hillside. A giant rat lay neatly dissected in half in the middle of the mosaic.

After some thought, Pallas figured out the riddle and was sure that he had ascertained the safe path to cross…sky…hill…river…campfire. All three made it safely across. The corridor ended with one door at its end and another to the left, some five feet or so prior to the other. The Clerics Three elected to explore what lay beyond the side door first. It opened easily and beyond was what looked to have once been a lab and library of sorts. However, scorch marks and the remains of fires were dominant about the room as was an aroma of smoke and burned meat. Something was against the inside of the door but slide fairly easily. Peering through the crack on the hinge-side of the door, Otilia could see the charred hindquarters of a giant rat. Webs and scorch marks could also be seen across the room’s ceiling.

Delg made his way to a nearby desk or table that had little but broken alchemical equipment and scorch marks atop it. As he began to wander deeper into the room, lost in his own thoughts, his companions cautiously peered about the room from just inside the doorway. Looking little more than part of a scorch mark on the ceiling, a soot colored spider, with a leg span of some eight feet, dropped down from its hiding spot onto the preoccupied dwarf. Its alien eyes looked like marbled flame and its fangs burned red hot, fangs that it sunk into the unaware Delg! Rather than poison, a burning fire was injected and the dwarf was incapacitated!

Otilia and Pallas immediately rushed to their fallen comrades aid. Otilia peppered the spider with arrows while Pallas revived his fallen comrade with but a divine prayer. The spider, however, refused to cooperate, spraying fiery webs at Otilia and attacking Delg again, returning him to his prior incapacitated state. Already drawn deeper into the room and facing an opponent that was getting the better of them, the conscious members of the Clerics Three opted for survival. Pallas grabbed Delg and headed for a door on the opposite side of the room from which they had entered. Otilia quickly followed and the trio safely escaped or had they?

The room they entered was fairly small compared to the lab. One wall was lined with shelves that contained lots of broken glass. Shattered vials and bottles were scattered on the floor in front of the shelves. As Otilia and Pallas took stock of their situation, setting down Delg, a large but not abnormally so rat come through a small hole in a far wall. It started lapping up some liquid near a shattered vial. A moment later, it had grown in size to a large dog. Fortunately, Otilia dispatched it in a single blow.

After taking their time to tend to their wounds, the duo searched this storeroom. There was a label on the vial that had been the source of the liquid the rat had drunk…’-tion of enlargement.’ Another label was found that read ‘Essense of Fire Ele…’ Perhaps an explanation for both the giant rats and the scorching spider. Otilia shared that mixing potions can have unexpected results, including leaving the effects permanent. They were also fortunate enough to find some intact potions in the wreckage…two labeled Potion of Healing, one labeled Potion of Invisibility, and one labeled Potion of Vitality.

After a few hours, Delg regained consciousness. With no other exits, the trio opened the door to the lab, prepared to face the spider again. However, it was no longer within. The other door had been left open and the spider had left. Out in the corridor, scorch marks could be seen on the ceiling, an indication that it had traveled that direction. Otilia took some time to search through some bookshelves that were in the lab. While most of the books and papers had been burned, one was still intact. It was not legible to her, but she still took it.

Delg took the opportunity to open the door at the end of the corridor. A small well was in the center of the room beyond with a table off in one corner. Another corner showed the wear and tear of time and erosion, the wall partially collapsed and a small shaft of light piercing the room’s darkness through a hole leading up. Otilia entered to explore further but quickly retreated as a trio of six-foot long centipedes darted from the well. Leaving well enough alone for now, she shut the door leaving the centipedes trapped within.

Concerned about the spider having gotten loose, the Clerics Three hustled back to the cellar and up to the brewery, concern growing as they heard no thumping music or other sound coming from above. No one was around and there were numerous scorch marks throughout the brewery. It was clear that the spider had come through here. Outside there was still no sign of brewer or band. More scorch marks indicated that the spider had climbed atop the brewery and then down the back side, heading off towards some nearby hills. More concerned with the safety of the village inhabitants than tracking the spider (and still a bit beat up from their prior encounter with the arachnid), the group headed back to Oakheart.

[And that is where we ended the session…a little on the early side but that’s okay.

• Proof Half-Sister: A hoppy pale ale from one of our local breweries. A definite hit. Even “I don’t like hoppy beers” Muse gave this a thumbs up and no scrunched face. 😀
• Ology Sensory Overload DDH (Denali): An IPA from another of our local breweries and another definite hit. Surprisingly, no scrunched face from Muse on this one either. I think the secret IPA conversion conspiracy is working!
• Founders Rübæus: I have a beer problem. Beers often get buried in the back of one of the multiple spots where they are stored. This one is back from when we last played 5e…2016! Despite that, it held up really, really well. It was a little less sweet and little more bitter (as in the bitterness from raspberry seeds) but still pretty good. A hit!