IWD2 Playthrough (RP, minimal reload)
energisedcamel
Member Posts: 110
Hello! So, inspired by some of the other threads here, I decided to document my own RP-ed playthrough. However, I decided to try giving IWD2 a go instead of the BG saga. I've played the start of this game a lot, but normally lose interest in the ice temple, so I'm hoping that documenting it here will keep me going. I really enjoy the freedom in character creation and the first few chapters of the game, but later on it can be a bit of a slog, so by focusing on the characters, I'm hoping I'll stick with it.
I've always enjoyed RP over powergaming (heck, I normally play on easy), but I will try to include a little detail about the battles so people can enjoy judging me provide feedback
I absolutely love playing with my own characters, but I thought it might be fun to try something a bit different, so I'll be playing with the cohorts from Neverwinter Nights 2: Storms of Zehir. In game, these companions are similar to BG1 NPCs (bare-boned, but with a dash of personality - just enough to inspire, but also provide creative freedom). I've spent the last few days painstakingly creating soundsets from their limited audio, as well as combing through pinterest to find even half decent portraits.
I know lots of people don’t enjoy IWD or IWD2 to the same extent as BG, but maybe someone will be interested in following along, all the same. Fair warning, I’m no wordsmith!
Anyway, without further ado, here are the characters I ended up with.
Lastri Kassireh - the halfing duelist
Originally from Neverwinter, Lastri is the former ship captain of the merchant vessel the Vigilant, which was tasked with transporting the famed author Volothamp Geddarm from Neverwinter to the jungles of Samargol. After a series of unfortunate events (play NWN2: SoZ for details), she was left with no ship, no money, no crew and no hope, her reputation as a captain in tatters. Stranded and alone, she decided to form her own adventuring party, hoping to earn enough coin to eventually buy a new ship and hire a new crew.
What Lastri lacks for in size and strength, she makes up for in courage, determination and gusto. Prone to rash action, she is able to compensate for her lack of planning by thinking on her feet, and she can often be found in the thick of battle, toe-to-toe with the toughest of opponents. She may be headstrong and even a little domineering at times, but she is also the life and soul of the party, and her bellowing voice can cut through the clamour of the tavern as easily as it can cut through the wind in a raging storm.
Author’s note: Her build isn’t ideal, but I was really enamoured with the idea of a loud, bossy halfling sailor. She will also double as lockpicker and trip-disarmer when she takes a level or two of rogue - I reckon sailors need to be pretty good with their hands, dealing with all that rope… right?)
Umoja - the human druid
Umoja is from the jungles of Chult, a druid and worshipper of Ubtao, the Father of Dinosaurs. With his dinosaur companion Yushai, it was Umoja that convinced Lastri to seek her fortune in the blistering cold of the Spine of the World. He believes that life, like the jungles which he calls home, is a maze - a test that must be navigated before one can find peace in the afterlife. It is impossible to predict how the maze of life will twist and turn, and he therefore did not question why when he felt a gentle, insistent tug, calling him northwards.
Considerate and kind, many think Umoja’s relaxed temperament seems at odds with the harshness of the jungles in which he was raised (and the ferociousness of his protector, Yushai). He is friendly and easygoing, though he prefers to listen than to speak, making him a calm, reassuring presence that complements Lastri’s impulsivity and passion.
Author’s note: Obviously, it’s not possible to have a dinosaur animal companion in game. I’m pretty sure a dinosaur would die in the cold, but we will just imagine that the animal companion bond and some sort of magic allows Yushai to survive.
Grykk Bannersworn - the half-orc paladin
Abandoned at a temple of Torm as a squalling child, Grykk was raised by the monks therein to be a devout and faithful champion of his faith. Raised on principles of structure and discipline, Grykk found joy in the calmness and routine of temple life, and through Torm, Grykk found purpose and peace. It wasn’t until he left the protection of Torm’s temple so that he could better help the needy that he realised that not everyone would treat him so fairly. A half-orc is rarely welcomed warmly, let alone one armed to the teeth, and Grykk has found it difficult to accept that most people do not trust him and would sooner reject his aid than associate with him. He has travelled with Lastri and the others away from the prejudice he faced in cities to the Ten Towns, where he hopes his actions will create a stronger impression than his appearance.
Formal and a little stiff, Grykk can come across as uptight and serious to those who meet him. However, his zeal and fury when combating injustice belies an inner turmoil raging within him. He claims that his lineage is nothing more than an accident of birth and rejects his orcish heritage completely, but despite this, there is a black rage in his heart that he struggles to control - one that he secretly fears runs deep in his blood and bone. He therefore tries to compensate for this chaos within him by keeping busy with incessant, almost-compulsive drills, routines and practice. Despite his stilted, pompous speech and his impossibly high standards, people who take the time to get to know him recognise that there is a tenderness to him, and few could match his courage, integrity and dedication to making the world a better place.
Author’s note: Definite Anomen vibes here, although I don’t intend for him to be nearly as arrogant or prejudiced. There is no paladin of Torm available so I went with Helm. I could have changed the narrative, but I think Torm works a lot better for him, so we will just have to use our imagination.
Inshula sar Mashewe - the human ranger
Hailing from Tashalar, a small nation far to the south, Inshula and her sister, Kwesi, are both skilled hunters and trackers. Always looking to challenge themselves, Inshula and her sister sailed to the jungles of Samarach, hoping to test their skills against new and challenging foes. Unfortunately, on the journey, her sister was gravely injured, and Inshula did not possess the patience to wait while her sister recovered. She therefore ventured onwards alone. It is then that she met Lastri and her companions, and she readily agreed to travel with them north, keen to see what challenges the wilds of the northern forests would offer her.
Inshula is a woman of few words, often perceived as aloof and haughty. In truth, she prefers to say little because she finds that most people she meets are disingenuous and false, saying one thing and meaning another. She has therefore learned to ignore the honeyed words of strangers and trust her instincts. After all, in the wilds, instincts are the key to survival, and Inshula prides herself on her keen intuition. In the jungles of Tashalar, she learned that danger can come when you least expect it, so Tashular acts as the eyes and ears of the party. In battle, she tends to hang back and protect the frailer members, peppering any enemy foolish enough to come within range of her deadly bolts.
Author's note: Wakanda forever!
Quarrel - the half-drow warlock/sorcerer
Drow are feared and hated all over the surface world, and often for good reason. Even half-drow, who are often raised on the surface, are viewed with just as much hostility. Treated by those around him with, at best, disdain and pity, or at worst, revulsion and abhorrence, Quarrel grew up to be an angry young man. Incredibly gifted, he scorned those around him while also craving their validation, which he never received. He swore revenge on those who tormented him, vowing that if it was a devil they wanted, a devil they would get. He therefore sought out a master to help him develop his innate arcane powers. He had shown signs of being a sorcerer at any early age, but all his life, he had struggled to contain and control his abilities. Eventually, he found a master, who taught him how to embrace his fell powers, but before his training was complete, his master mysteriously vanished, leaving Quarrel alone once more. He was surprised when Lastri and her band offered him the chance to travel with them to the frozen north, but he decided that there was safety in numbers, and the goblin hordes threatening the Ten Towns would make excellent practice for him to continue to develop his arcane might and plot his revenge.
For obvious reasons, Quarrel has a hard time trusting people. A lifetime of bad experiences has made him wary, and he is always straddling the line between cold, condescending indifference and firey, explosive rage. This rage often leads to disastrous consequences in battle, where Quarrel releases his frustration and pain with wild abandon, caring little for who or what gets in his way. Sometimes it is not clear who he is so angry at - his enemies, the world at large, or maybe himself.
Author’s note: In SoZ, Quarrel is a broody warlock, obsessed with following in the footsteps of his master, Ammon Jerro from the main NWN2 campaign. No warlock class in IWD2, so I’ve had to take some liberties.
Chir Darkflame - the deep gnome mage
Like most gnomes, Chir always possessed an innate curiosity. However, unlike most gnomes, Chir’s curiosity had a dark and macabre bent to it. Known for pushing boundaries in her field of research, she seemed to care little for the suffering she caused, and sometimes even revelled in it. She was never happier than when she was dissecting a new specimen, a maniacal glee in her eyes and a happy tune on her lips. The tale of her journey to the surface was a long one (involving arrest, mindflayers and being sold into slavery) but suffice it to say, she managed to escape, and she revelled in her newfound freedom on the surface - no more stern-faced, joyless family warning her that she was risking the safety of her clan, just total, unbridled intellectual freedom! Rather than being concerned, the party are baffled and bemused by Chir’s passion and curiosity. It seems they have yet to realise just how far she will go in her pursuit of knowledge.
With her excitable voice and her sweet appearance, one might be mistaken for thinking of Chir as cute. She has a boundless energy and optimism (completely alien to any respectable deep gnome) that can be in part infectious and in part exhausting. People often leave a conversation with Chir feeling confused and dazed because her mind moves a mile a minute, and words tend to tumble out of her mouth in a torrent of excitable cheer. This works in her favour, however, because it somewhat helps to distract the listener from what she is saying, which is often related to her grim projects.
Author’s note: Chir is a generalist mage in SoZ, but both her and Quarrel are already at a level disadvantage due to their races, and I didn’t want to impair her even further by losing an extra spell per level. I initially chose illusionist because gnomes have a natural affinity for it, particularly deep gnomes, but I decided to switch her to a Transmuter because illusion magic did not really fit with her love of dissection and curiosity about the way the world works. It drives me nuts that this portrait doesn't really match the others, but there are very few female deep gnome portraits. If anyone finds one, feel free to send it my way please!
Final comments: I’m playing on Normal mode because I’m not brave enough to play on anything harder, but I may increase the difficulty later on if I think things are going too smoothly. I’m also playing with the semiOverhaul mod for IWD2 (link below), which I wish I had discovered before, so let's see how it goes!
https://forums.beamdog.com/discussion/69911/semioverhaul-for-iwd2-update/p1
I'd love to hear any feedback or comment, if anyone decides to read along!
I've always enjoyed RP over powergaming (heck, I normally play on easy), but I will try to include a little detail about the battles so people can enjoy judging me provide feedback
I absolutely love playing with my own characters, but I thought it might be fun to try something a bit different, so I'll be playing with the cohorts from Neverwinter Nights 2: Storms of Zehir. In game, these companions are similar to BG1 NPCs (bare-boned, but with a dash of personality - just enough to inspire, but also provide creative freedom). I've spent the last few days painstakingly creating soundsets from their limited audio, as well as combing through pinterest to find even half decent portraits.
I know lots of people don’t enjoy IWD or IWD2 to the same extent as BG, but maybe someone will be interested in following along, all the same. Fair warning, I’m no wordsmith!
Anyway, without further ado, here are the characters I ended up with.
Lastri Kassireh - the halfing duelist
Originally from Neverwinter, Lastri is the former ship captain of the merchant vessel the Vigilant, which was tasked with transporting the famed author Volothamp Geddarm from Neverwinter to the jungles of Samargol. After a series of unfortunate events (play NWN2: SoZ for details), she was left with no ship, no money, no crew and no hope, her reputation as a captain in tatters. Stranded and alone, she decided to form her own adventuring party, hoping to earn enough coin to eventually buy a new ship and hire a new crew.
What Lastri lacks for in size and strength, she makes up for in courage, determination and gusto. Prone to rash action, she is able to compensate for her lack of planning by thinking on her feet, and she can often be found in the thick of battle, toe-to-toe with the toughest of opponents. She may be headstrong and even a little domineering at times, but she is also the life and soul of the party, and her bellowing voice can cut through the clamour of the tavern as easily as it can cut through the wind in a raging storm.
Author’s note: Her build isn’t ideal, but I was really enamoured with the idea of a loud, bossy halfling sailor. She will also double as lockpicker and trip-disarmer when she takes a level or two of rogue - I reckon sailors need to be pretty good with their hands, dealing with all that rope… right?)
Umoja - the human druid
Umoja is from the jungles of Chult, a druid and worshipper of Ubtao, the Father of Dinosaurs. With his dinosaur companion Yushai, it was Umoja that convinced Lastri to seek her fortune in the blistering cold of the Spine of the World. He believes that life, like the jungles which he calls home, is a maze - a test that must be navigated before one can find peace in the afterlife. It is impossible to predict how the maze of life will twist and turn, and he therefore did not question why when he felt a gentle, insistent tug, calling him northwards.
Considerate and kind, many think Umoja’s relaxed temperament seems at odds with the harshness of the jungles in which he was raised (and the ferociousness of his protector, Yushai). He is friendly and easygoing, though he prefers to listen than to speak, making him a calm, reassuring presence that complements Lastri’s impulsivity and passion.
Author’s note: Obviously, it’s not possible to have a dinosaur animal companion in game. I’m pretty sure a dinosaur would die in the cold, but we will just imagine that the animal companion bond and some sort of magic allows Yushai to survive.
Grykk Bannersworn - the half-orc paladin
Abandoned at a temple of Torm as a squalling child, Grykk was raised by the monks therein to be a devout and faithful champion of his faith. Raised on principles of structure and discipline, Grykk found joy in the calmness and routine of temple life, and through Torm, Grykk found purpose and peace. It wasn’t until he left the protection of Torm’s temple so that he could better help the needy that he realised that not everyone would treat him so fairly. A half-orc is rarely welcomed warmly, let alone one armed to the teeth, and Grykk has found it difficult to accept that most people do not trust him and would sooner reject his aid than associate with him. He has travelled with Lastri and the others away from the prejudice he faced in cities to the Ten Towns, where he hopes his actions will create a stronger impression than his appearance.
Formal and a little stiff, Grykk can come across as uptight and serious to those who meet him. However, his zeal and fury when combating injustice belies an inner turmoil raging within him. He claims that his lineage is nothing more than an accident of birth and rejects his orcish heritage completely, but despite this, there is a black rage in his heart that he struggles to control - one that he secretly fears runs deep in his blood and bone. He therefore tries to compensate for this chaos within him by keeping busy with incessant, almost-compulsive drills, routines and practice. Despite his stilted, pompous speech and his impossibly high standards, people who take the time to get to know him recognise that there is a tenderness to him, and few could match his courage, integrity and dedication to making the world a better place.
Author’s note: Definite Anomen vibes here, although I don’t intend for him to be nearly as arrogant or prejudiced. There is no paladin of Torm available so I went with Helm. I could have changed the narrative, but I think Torm works a lot better for him, so we will just have to use our imagination.
Inshula sar Mashewe - the human ranger
Hailing from Tashalar, a small nation far to the south, Inshula and her sister, Kwesi, are both skilled hunters and trackers. Always looking to challenge themselves, Inshula and her sister sailed to the jungles of Samarach, hoping to test their skills against new and challenging foes. Unfortunately, on the journey, her sister was gravely injured, and Inshula did not possess the patience to wait while her sister recovered. She therefore ventured onwards alone. It is then that she met Lastri and her companions, and she readily agreed to travel with them north, keen to see what challenges the wilds of the northern forests would offer her.
Inshula is a woman of few words, often perceived as aloof and haughty. In truth, she prefers to say little because she finds that most people she meets are disingenuous and false, saying one thing and meaning another. She has therefore learned to ignore the honeyed words of strangers and trust her instincts. After all, in the wilds, instincts are the key to survival, and Inshula prides herself on her keen intuition. In the jungles of Tashalar, she learned that danger can come when you least expect it, so Tashular acts as the eyes and ears of the party. In battle, she tends to hang back and protect the frailer members, peppering any enemy foolish enough to come within range of her deadly bolts.
Author's note: Wakanda forever!
Quarrel - the half-drow warlock/sorcerer
Drow are feared and hated all over the surface world, and often for good reason. Even half-drow, who are often raised on the surface, are viewed with just as much hostility. Treated by those around him with, at best, disdain and pity, or at worst, revulsion and abhorrence, Quarrel grew up to be an angry young man. Incredibly gifted, he scorned those around him while also craving their validation, which he never received. He swore revenge on those who tormented him, vowing that if it was a devil they wanted, a devil they would get. He therefore sought out a master to help him develop his innate arcane powers. He had shown signs of being a sorcerer at any early age, but all his life, he had struggled to contain and control his abilities. Eventually, he found a master, who taught him how to embrace his fell powers, but before his training was complete, his master mysteriously vanished, leaving Quarrel alone once more. He was surprised when Lastri and her band offered him the chance to travel with them to the frozen north, but he decided that there was safety in numbers, and the goblin hordes threatening the Ten Towns would make excellent practice for him to continue to develop his arcane might and plot his revenge.
For obvious reasons, Quarrel has a hard time trusting people. A lifetime of bad experiences has made him wary, and he is always straddling the line between cold, condescending indifference and firey, explosive rage. This rage often leads to disastrous consequences in battle, where Quarrel releases his frustration and pain with wild abandon, caring little for who or what gets in his way. Sometimes it is not clear who he is so angry at - his enemies, the world at large, or maybe himself.
Author’s note: In SoZ, Quarrel is a broody warlock, obsessed with following in the footsteps of his master, Ammon Jerro from the main NWN2 campaign. No warlock class in IWD2, so I’ve had to take some liberties.
Chir Darkflame - the deep gnome mage
Like most gnomes, Chir always possessed an innate curiosity. However, unlike most gnomes, Chir’s curiosity had a dark and macabre bent to it. Known for pushing boundaries in her field of research, she seemed to care little for the suffering she caused, and sometimes even revelled in it. She was never happier than when she was dissecting a new specimen, a maniacal glee in her eyes and a happy tune on her lips. The tale of her journey to the surface was a long one (involving arrest, mindflayers and being sold into slavery) but suffice it to say, she managed to escape, and she revelled in her newfound freedom on the surface - no more stern-faced, joyless family warning her that she was risking the safety of her clan, just total, unbridled intellectual freedom! Rather than being concerned, the party are baffled and bemused by Chir’s passion and curiosity. It seems they have yet to realise just how far she will go in her pursuit of knowledge.
With her excitable voice and her sweet appearance, one might be mistaken for thinking of Chir as cute. She has a boundless energy and optimism (completely alien to any respectable deep gnome) that can be in part infectious and in part exhausting. People often leave a conversation with Chir feeling confused and dazed because her mind moves a mile a minute, and words tend to tumble out of her mouth in a torrent of excitable cheer. This works in her favour, however, because it somewhat helps to distract the listener from what she is saying, which is often related to her grim projects.
Author’s note: Chir is a generalist mage in SoZ, but both her and Quarrel are already at a level disadvantage due to their races, and I didn’t want to impair her even further by losing an extra spell per level. I initially chose illusionist because gnomes have a natural affinity for it, particularly deep gnomes, but I decided to switch her to a Transmuter because illusion magic did not really fit with her love of dissection and curiosity about the way the world works. It drives me nuts that this portrait doesn't really match the others, but there are very few female deep gnome portraits. If anyone finds one, feel free to send it my way please!
Final comments: I’m playing on Normal mode because I’m not brave enough to play on anything harder, but I may increase the difficulty later on if I think things are going too smoothly. I’m also playing with the semiOverhaul mod for IWD2 (link below), which I wish I had discovered before, so let's see how it goes!
https://forums.beamdog.com/discussion/69911/semioverhaul-for-iwd2-update/p1
I'd love to hear any feedback or comment, if anyone decides to read along!
8
Comments
Well, here goes nothing. If anyone decides to read along, I'd love to hear from you.
Captain Lastri Kassireh’s Logbook
1st Mirtual, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
Well, we have arrived to Targos, hale and healthy, all things considered. A freak storm almost did us in as we passed through the Sea of Moving Ice travelling up from Luskan to Targos, but the good captain, Hedron Kerdos weathered her well enough. He is either the bravest bastard I’ve ever met or he is a few cards short of a deck, because I have never seen waters as treacherous and I don’t think I would ever dare to sail through those icy fields.
Just one crew mate dead, poor bastard, a couple of barrels destroyed and all of our equipment swept overboard. All things considered, not so bad. Once I might have cursed the Bitch Queen Umberlee for taking my blades and leathers, but I am just grateful that we all survived. I’ve lost too many good men and women in my time… I really must remember to chuck a few coins to the Queen of the Depths the next time I pass by a temple…
We had eagerly left pirate-infested Luskan with a fleet of ships, teeming with mercenaries, hungry for the gold and glory promised in the frozen tundras beyond the Spine of the World. The Ten Towns had sent word requesting aid against an amassing goblin horde in Icewind Dale, and the lily-livered Luskans, too cowardly to send their own soldiers, had promised fame and fortune to any mercenaries willing to answer the call. I was hesitant to sign up, but the druid Umoja convinced me, and we had little opportunity for work elsewhere.
I don’t know what happened to the other ships we set out with, but our ship, the Wicked Wench, is the only one that has arrived safely in Targos. As we travelled up the Shaengarne River, we passed the burning ruins of Bremen, so I fear the other ships may have been ambushed along the way and suffered a similar fate. The Ten Towns are now just nine.
When we finally disembarked, the rest of my crew were relieved. I had spent most of the journey helping the captain, relieved to be back at sea with the breeze in my hair and the salt on my lips. If he felt undermined when I took charge of his crew, he did not say anything, and it was with a heavy heart that I said goodbye to the smelly old bastards.
I am still not sure what to make of my new “crew”: we make a strange bunch, but if we are going to survive in this frozen place, we need to start working as a team. A captain is nothing without her crew, and a crew without discipline is as good as dead. I tried to get them to help out on the ship, but they were content to leave all the work to me and the boys of the Wicked Wench. They mostly spent their time in their cabins, with the exception of Chir Dirkflame, the deep gnome, who seemed happy to clamber about the masts and rigging like a monkey (when she wasn’t chirruping away nonsensically to anyone who would listen).
Safely off the ship, we were greeted by some guards who seemed in bad shape - one dead, one injured, and the other with the wild eyes of someone expecting an arrow in his neck at any minute. They informed us that goblins had invaded the docks. We must have looked quite the pathetic sight, a menagerie of six weary strangers, desperate for a bath, a hot meal and armed only with makeshift wooden sticks. Even so, I informed the men that we could help them. After all, we have been called to Targos to fight!
I have not travelled with Umoja for long, but he seems like a good sort, if a bit soft-hearted. Without hesitation, he offered to cure the wound of the soldier. If I'd had my say, I would have said it is better to save that spell for one of our own, but he just responded with that cryptic smile of his. He has an eerie calm about him that I find both comforting and concerting.
Even after that, the cheeky bugger asked us to hunt down the harbormaster Magdar for a healing draught. Umoja assured him that we would return soon.
We passed dead bodies, goblin and human both, as we continued, and we picked up discarded weapons and odd scraps of armour where we could salvage them. We progressed cautiously forward, aware that, as weak as goblins are, one lucky arrow can be the difference between life and death. However, it wasn’t long before we found one of the ugly beats, and we took it out swiftly.
With that, our blood singing, we swept through the docks like a wave, cleansing everything in our paths, taking out unsuspecting goblins like they were gnats. The sea will always be my first love, but I must admit that I have missed the thrill of battle.
One of the houses contained an army of cats and Hedron’s mother, a cantankerous toad of a woman who had the audacity to repay us for saving her life with a tongue-lashing. Humans! After giving her a taste of her own medicine, I stormed out of the house before I said something I would regret.
As we returned to the Wicked Wench to inform Hedron that his mother was safe, Grykk, the uptight half-orc lad, took me aside and said he was disappointed that I had shouted obscenities at a scared, old blind woman. Well, the kid may be a beast, stronger than any man I’ve met, and he can probably crush a skull with his bare hands, but he’s green, and softer than a woman’s tit. I won’t be lectured and preached to by a pup like him. Either way, the gold Hedron paid us when we informed him of his mother’s safety helped calm me down a little.
We eventually found the harbormaster Magdar cowering away in one of the warehouses, and he informed us that the potion we needed was in one of the many crates, although he was unable to tell us which one. He also said that we could help ourselves to any weapons we found in the barrels. We left Chir, Umoja and Quarrel to rifle through the mess, as Inshula, Grykk and I scouted outside for more goblins.
The hunter Inshula has already proven herself to be a valuable ally, though she’s dourer than a priest and she walks around with a face like a slapped arse. She managed to track the goblins to a warehouse to the northeast and she said the raiding party must have come from inside, as there was no sign of commotion in the town on the cliffs above us. Flush off our victories, we convinced the nearby soldier that we were more than a match for whatever vermin lay in wait, and swords held high and spells ablaze, we barged in. It was a slaughter.
Inside the warehouse, there was a ladder leading down to a series of musty caverns, and a faint haze of smoke and dust tickled our nose as we continued to plow through the goblins. Scouting ahead, Inshula informed us that at the end of the cavern there was a group of larger, stronger looking goblins arguing.
I have never much liked sorcery - I much prefer an honest duel to reliance on flashing lights and trickery - but as we stormed the goblins, Quarrel, the sullen half-drow sorcerer proved his worth by unleashing a tide of grease that caused the goblins to fall on their arses, allowing us to shower the pathetic creatures in a rain of bolts, arrows and magic. (Note to self: have words with Inshula about taking all the joy out of battle - she took out twice the amount of goblins as I did because by the time I reached them, they were already full of bolts)
Content that we had beaten the last of the goblins, we took a few moments to catch our breath and turned our attention to investigating how the goblins had managed to enter Targos harbour without alarming the town on the cliff above. We found signs of a cave-in, and also found a mysterious vellum scroll that none of us could make heads nor tails of, but we all agreed that we were too exhausted to put the pieces of the puzzle together then and there.
On our way out of the warehouse, I decided to “inspect” some of the cargo. Much to my horror, amongst chests of weapons and rations, I found a crate with a dead cat in it! When the others came over to see what the fuss was, most seemed confused yet disinterested, but I didn’t fail to notice the glint in Chir’s eyes as she hungrily poured over every detail of the poor critter. I need to keep an eye on that one…
We have now returned to Hedron’s ship to rest for a while, having informed the soldiers of our success and delivered them their potion. They were grateful, but I know it won’t bring back their buddy, so I won’t be expecting a round of drinks from them any time soon. It wasn’t so long ago that I lost my own crew, and I still miss them greatly.
I should probably take a quick break now, before we head up to the town proper, to inform this “Lord” Ulbrec fellow of our heroics. I hope we are paid our dues for our efforts so far in the defence of Targos. Who knows what might have happened if we had not shown up when we did. Regardless, I don’t think this will be the last goblin blood my blade will taste...
Author's note: OK, that was much longer than I intended. Any thoughts? Less flavour text? More flavour text? More action? Less action? More screenshots? Less? Too long? Not interested in the slightest?
1: Biographies are well-seasoned - enough to pique my interest in all of the characters. Of all six, though, I would have to say I am most looking forward to learning more about Chir and Umoja.
Chir, because her macabre obsession with transmutation seems like a symptom of some irregular (and fascinating) personal psychology. It's also just an interesting take on one of the major schools of magic.
Umoja, because his notion of life as labyrinthine, a puzzle (a deception, even) concealing something that needs to be sorted out before death, seems pretty dynamic, and I am interested in seeing how it informs his spiritual leadership, and whether it conflicts at all with Grykk's own views.
Speaking of Grykk, sounds like you are winding up a little comedy here, making a character with an intelligence of 8 who has a penchant for formality and "pompous speech."
2: The prose is engaging and easy to read. First-person voice always helps take the reader "inside" the action. The line that most stuck out to me most was this one: "With that, our blood singing, we swept through the docks like a wave, cleansing everything in our paths, taking out unsuspecting goblins like they were gnats. The sea will always be my first love, but I must admit that I have missed the thrill of battle."
Comparing a successful battle to a wave make perfect, intuitive sense for a character who thinks of the sea as her "first love." It also shows that, for her, goblins register in the category of filth and disease, as she compares them to vermin ("gnats") soiling a world (whether that is "world" in the small sense of "society"/"culture" or in the larger sense of "cosmos") in whose ideal order they have no place (hence the need to "cleanse" them). I am almost certain the party druid has a slightly different perspective on what the battle meant, and about goblin-kind in general. It will be interesting to see whether Lastri's views develop at all over time, or whether her attitudes about goblins also extend to other kinds of "monstrous" creatures.
3: Number of screenshots seems fine to me. As for more/less action, if I were you, I wouldn't start sweating questions like that yet. Let yourself settle into the character and figure out what seems right. As you write more entries, try to think of the amount of action you report as a reflection of the narrating character's priorities, sensitivities, and perceptions.
4: Speaking of which - do you have plans as to whether or not other characters will have their own entries or whether all entries will be from Lastri's perspective? There are definitely pro's and con's to both, and - of course - no need for you to have made up your mind just yet (or honestly, no reason for you to ever make up your mind).
5: A personal side note, I have played IWD and NWN2, but never IWD2 or NWN2:SOZ, so my first experience of this game and the SOZ characters will all be through your storytelling. No pressure
Anyway, I was psyched to see you on my thread, and twice as psyched to see you starting your own. Can't wait to see what's next!
1) I hope I get to explore those ideas in depth! I am trying to let go of my instinct to over-analyse and plan and just write whatever comes to me, because if not, I will happily spend hours googling relatively unimportant details like "typical Chult diet" and "how were crossbows made in medieval times" (and have a great time doing it) and make no progress in the story. For now, I am just hoping that I will be able to find a balance between authentic and easy-to-write!
Regarding Grykk, I actually didn't have comedy in mind, though maybe such situations will arise organically as I write - in Storm of Zehir, he speaks pretty formally, but has a low intelligence. I like to think he was just raised very strictly and his manner of speech and pompous attitude are a symptom of the environment he was raised in. I think of it as similar to people who attend expensive private schools who manage to succeed academically, despite being dumber than a box of rocks. I imagine the strict monks of Torm were very intolerant of poorly expressed ideas, or god forbid, incorrect grammar and I'm sure he spent many hours of his childhood writing lines for some poorly-worded thought, haha. Also I am taking some liberties with ability scores because I need to survive the game
2) I think your analysis is much better than the prose itself, tbh! I loved hearing your interpretation! I wish I could claim that such thoughtful analysis went into the writing, but I am not nearly good enough. It's one of the reasons I chose the diary format, because I am not capable of imaginative prose full of beautiful figurative language and evocative descriptions! You're absolutely right about Umoja's conflicting feelings, and it is something he will have to battle with in the future, because IWD2, like IWD, is pretty much just endless slaughtering.
3) Thanks for the feedback. With the format I've chosen (diary entries of a specific character, etc.), it makes it a little difficult to give play-by-play accounts of battles, so I am just going to see how things develop and follow my gut. If anyone reading would like to hear more about the tactics and battles, perhaps that's something I can consider in the future, where battles are a much more significant part of the game, but for now, I think the RP element is more fun for me.
4) My idea is to write different "chapters" from different character's perspectives, although there are definitely some kinks I need to work out, considering this is a playthrough and not a real story or novel. I might send you a PM to get your thoughts on it, if you don't mind, because I really respect your opinion, but I don't want to bore anyone else reading here!
5) In that case, I hope I provide enough details for the story to make sense! It will be great to get feedback from someone with a fresh perspective
Again, thanks so much for your thoughtful feedback. It really made my day! (I will definitely try to provide some commentary more exciting than "THIS IS AMAZING!!1!!" in your own playthrough)
Anyway, don't sell yourself short. I'm excited to see what this thread has in store
Even on that first run, I didn't finish, because I couldn't figure out the part where you have to travel back in time and redo a dungeon. I think I missed picking up some kind of quest item, and couldn't get through a locked door or portal. Stumped, I got fed up with yet another puzzle, and stopped playing. That was before there was internet and Google to easily look up walkthroughs and solutions. I would have had to go out to the book store and bought a paperback guide to the game.
I think your style of writing is very masterful. As you continue, my advice is to focus on having fun with it, and write something you will enjoy going back and reading for yourself. The right balance of detail in story, characterization, and action is up to you. If tactics don't interest you that much, there's no need to focus on that.
I wouldn't obsess over style or being "correct". It's not like you're writing this for an English project for a grade, or to ever sell. It's purely for fun. Also, don't let writing a story about it spoil your enjoyment of actually playing the game. The writing should enhance the enjoyment of playing.
Hi @BelgarathMTH! It sounds like we are players cut from the same cloth. I also have vague memories of time travel, but that was many, many years ago and I really don't remember anything of it. Thank Sune for Google and the internet, is all I'll say!
Thanks so much for your kind words and your excellent advice. I think you've hit the nail on the head - I just need to do what is easiest/most fun. I tried playing a bit last night and had problems with the screenshots and then had to re-play a section, and that's definitely not the idea of documenting the run here!
1st Mirtul, 1312
Dear Kwesi,
I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner. I know that when I left you, I swore that I would send you daily letters of our exploits, but given that they will no doubt take weeks or even months to reach you, I think a few days will not matter in the long run.
As I write this, I am currently sat in the local inn, the Weeping Widow, sipping on the orc piss they claim to be wine. In a way, I pity these northerners. They will never know the rich flavour of the fine wines we produce in Tashalar, and their food is so bland! Not even our poorest would eat such flavourless gruel, yet here the rich and poor alike eat their food unseasoned! I wish we had bought more spices with us when we left Tashluta.
This town, Targos, is depressing. The lord here, Ulbrec, ordered the construction of a rudimentary palisade to fend off the goblin horde’s attacks, but wood is scarce here, and they have had to take timber from the houses. All that’s left is a shell, devoid of life, and I have to wonder what there is here that is even worth defending. Most of the townsfolk have fled south, and those who remain man the palisade, pimple-faced youths with over-sized helms next to pot-bellied craftsmen who can barely squeeze into their leathers.
If you were expecting epic tales of our exploits, you will have to wait, because so far, we have fought only a few dozen goblins (larger but weaker versions of the fearsome batiri jungle goblin tribes of Tashalar). My bolts are thirsty for the blood of more worthy foes, but I suppose that shall come soon enough.
Ulbrec has informed us that the attacks on Targos have escalated in a matter of weeks and that the goblins attacks have been coordinated and precisely planned. The goblins we fought earlier had used sappers to access a warren of sealed-off smuggler caves that led to a warehouse in the docks, but luckily we prevented them from causing any lasting damage. For our efforts, we were paid a paltry sum, and Ulbrec informed us that our watch commander will give us our orders, early tomorrow morning.
Ulbrec’s wife is a slip of an elf, and an enchantress, though she claims she is out of practice and cannot use her sorcery to aid the town. She was, however, able to tell us that a scroll we found on one of the goblin sappers had been used to transport the goblins sappers into an old warren of smugglers caves. More worryingly, she informed us that it is one of a pair, which implies that another attack may be imminent. She suggested that someone already inside Targos with a passing knowledge of the arcane must have used the scroll to teleport the goblin sappers in, and she asked us to keep an eye out for them.
Northern attitudes to warlocks and wizardry seem remarkably relaxed and it leaves me ill-at-ease. The people I travel with are still relative strangers to me, so I have tried to hold my tongue at our own group’s use of magic, but I cannot help remembering mother’s old adage that “magic used is magic abused”. I just hope we are able to find the culprit soon, for I will find it difficult to sleep tonight with the threat of a traitor in our midst.
With our earnings, we have at least managed to outfit ourselves with proper weapons. My crossbow is nothing compared to those produced in Tashalar, but a skilled hunter is more than the tools she works with, and I look forward to the challenge. We are now left with almost nothing once again, but at least the hulking Grykk has splint mail to protect him. He has all the grace and subtlety of a bull, but he is a ferocious warrior and I am glad that he fights with us.
Since then, we have split up, to spend the rest of the day as we please: the little captain Lastri, to slake her thirst at the dockside tavern, Quarrel the half-drow to mope in his quarters at the local inn, and Chir, Savras only knows where. I care not, as long as she is far away from me.
Umoja, Grykk and I went to the town’s medical pavilion to visit a travelling diviner that the lady elf had mentioned. She told us that, while scrying the location of the bulk of the goblin forces, he had entered a coma from which he had not woken, and Umoja offered his skills as a healer. I have noticed that outside of Tashalar and the Chultan peninsula, scrying is much less common. Clearly this diviner is nothing compared to the scryers of home... To be honest, I don’t know if I should be relieved that the constant threat of Yuan-Ti schemes does not require it, or unnerved that they are so open to treachery and deceit. Perhaps the surprise betrayal from this mysterious wizard who aids the goblins will teach them that trust is to be earned, not given freely - it is not outside the realm of possibility that the diviner himself was the snake in the grass who aided the goblins.
As it turned out, the diviner was in no coma, but trapped in a series of strange visions. Even writing his words fills me with dread and sends a shiver down my spine, though I cannot explain why. He spoke of circles of teeth and rivers silenced by wood, of a beating stone heart and the shadow of a three-headed beast looming over the Dales. I do not know what this means, but I fear it speaks of bad events to come. I will consult my talis cards tonight, for all the good it will do me. How I wish you were here, sister! You always were a better reader than I.
Try as we might, we could not break through his visions for more than a moment, where he just repeated the phrase “braehg” over and over again. I have heard people choking on their own blood produce similar sounds, but Umoja remains convinced that the word has meaning.
Grykk also encountered an injured fellow who asked us to deliver a letter to his love via the captain of the reinforcements sent by Neverwinter, who remain weeks away. My suspicions were aroused, but Grykk swore on his honour that he would do his best to deliver the message.
Despite Grykk’s protests, when one of the pavilion priests asked to check the letter, I insisted that if the priest did not do it, I would read it myself. Grykk did not appreciate this, considering it a breach of trust, but it seemed too strange that the captain of Neverwinter forces would play courier for something so trivial. I told him that he was a fool, and the disagreement got a little heated. I have little patience for naivety, but perhaps I did not express myself well. It was not my intention to snap. I wish I had your composure and eloquence, Kwesi, but you know that normally the sting of my words is not in their bluntness, but in the painful truth behind them.
Whatever I had expected, it was certainly not that the priest would reveal that the letter contained details of troop movements throughout the Dales and that the man was, in fact, a doppleganger. Cursed creatures! The pavilion priest suspected that he had consumed the memories of the real man, and was part of a larger plot to bring down the Ten Towns. Even though I was vindicated, I chose not to say anything to Grykk. The lesson was learned, and he is my ally, after all. I would like to one day make friends of those I can trust in this cold, barren land of strangers, and he seems dependable and kind, if a little too trusting.
When we confronted the doppleganger, the battle was intense. However, against all 3 of us, the beast fell easily. Grykk beat the creature to a bloody pulp, an act I thought strange for a paladin, but I cannot blame him for his fervour. Dopplegangers match the cursed Yuan-Ti in their scheming and duplicity and I only wish it had been me who could have claimed the kill as my own.
We returned to the inn in silence after that, and I am now warming myself by the fire. It is so cold here, Kwesi, like nothing I have ever experienced. The biting winds creep under your clothes and cut straight to the bone, robbing you of breath and freezing tears in the corner of your eyes. I will never again complain of the humid summer nights of home, I swear!
You know how I hate writing, so I hope you are duly satisfied and impressed with the length of this letter! When I pray to holy Savras for wisdom and clarity before I sleep tonight, I will light a candle for you, dear sister.
Take care,
Inshula
Author's note: I'm hoping that as I progress, I will be able to find a better balance between moving the plot forwards and character insights. Not much even happened here, but there's still quite a lot of text!
That's a good read so far, will try to follow updates.
I finished an IWD II playthrough on Wednesday with the difficulty slider on middle setting apart from three encounters (Chult guardian, Lost Followers in Kuldahar and the final duo). There were a few more reloads than I liked, not having played the game for many years, my party being sub-optimal for situations such as the hook-horror spawns and my gaming skills are on the decline! 20-30 reloads overall so could have been a lot worse.
I redid the final battle last night on the central difficulty and a different strategy, and was surprised how easy it was given the first time through my party was quickly wiped out. I'd been doing a bit of the game each day so checked over my saves to see how long this had taken and it's been going since 23 March - UK lockdown. The first save is from 13 June 2016 and I vaguely remembering rolling up the party and stopping there, and in March must have decided to use them instead of rolling up 6 more victims.
Almost gave up a few times but glad I persevered. The music throughout was phenomenal. I thought the dialogue was really good in places - didn't make notes of it unfortunately so that will be my plan for next time through the game. I'm not sure the game areas related very well to each other and felt like a series of mini games instead of one epic adventure .
Anyway, enjoy your game and I'll try to find the mod you linked (link doesn't work when I try it)
Congratulations on finishing! I think the lockdown has inspired many of us to dust off old games and give them a whirl. Even though I've stated this is a minimal reload, I wouldn't be surprised if I reach 20-30 reloads too. I completely agree about the dialogue and the music (not to mention the location art is stunning). Not quite sure why the mod link isn't working, but it has some pretty nifty features that you might appreciate (chief among them that you can skip chapters you don't like - though I didn't install that this time). Thanks for reading!
2nd Mirtual, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
You know, I’m starting to think we were hasty in our decision to come here to Targos. I find myself craving more action, but it seems that our skills are to be used to run errands better suited to children, rather than adventure or combat.
Our first task, given to us by the watch commander Shawford Crale, was to help to patch up a breach in the palisade wall. This was a simple enough task, which involved running between the dwarven engineer Olap Tamewater, the lumber merchant Lumbar Grundelwell (yes, I did write that correctly*) and Olap’s father, Jorun Tamewater, who is a shipbuilder-turned-carpenter. I will have to invite him to the tavern to share a round with him, and ask him more about his work and if he is available for hire to build my future ship.
Fixing the wall will be easy enough now that the crane used to haul the lumber from the docks up the cliff is fixed, but there is not much we can do to help without more men to unload the lumber and transport it to the wall, so Olap said he would call on us if we were needed. I only hope we do not have to deal with the pig-faced, ungrateful Lumbar again.
We decided instead to turn our attention back to finding the turncoat mage who assisted the goblins in the attack on the docks. Something about the task united our group, for we were all of one mind that finding this traitor was of utmost importance.
Luckily, we had an idea of who our target was. While drinking at the Salty Dog tavern the previous evening, I had overheard from a group of mercenaries called the Iron Collar band that among their number was a priest of Myrkul and a mage. Frankly, any mage was a suspect in such a small town, but even more convincingly, they had revealed that the wizard fellow was new to their group, a little odd, and had taken up residence in town, alone.
We found the man in an abandoned wainwright’s shop, and when we asked him if he could tell us anything about the teleportation scroll we had found on one of the goblins, he revealed the truth - that he had helped the goblins infiltrate the docks. We still don’t know why he assisted the goblins, but Quarrel, of all people, managed to trick him into revealing more about the plot by insinuating that we could be persuaded to help him betray Targos. I must admit, I was surprised at his ingenuity.
While Phaen did not reveal much, he did let slip that he and his master had been hired by someone who wanted to see Targos turned to ash. I have my doubts that goblins are cunning enough to think of infiltrating Targos and weakening the town from within, but if not them, then who? It seems Phaen was but a link in a very long chain, but we are no closer to knowing the truth.
The fight was short but intense. The mage teleported in a group of goblins, and they were able to keep us distracted long enough for Inshula and I to be put to sleep with a spell. I do not know what happened, exactly, but I woke up scratched and bruised and the wizard and the goblins were dead.
I dread to think what would have happened if I had been left in such a vulnerable state without Grykk to cover me, or Umoja’s healing. My companions have proven themselves to be valuable allies, and so I decided I wanted to get to know them better. We may fight and bleed together, but they still feel like acquaintances more than team-mates. We received a sizeable reward from Elytharra, Ulbrec’s wife, so I invited them to share a round at the Salty Dog.
Over drinks, they seemed to let loose and open up a little, and I felt for the first time that we were starting to enjoy each other’s company. Umoja delighted in Chir’s curiosity about the creatures of his homeland (huge reptilian beats known as dinosaurs) and Inshula showed us her exquisite wooden talis cards, which she explained nearly all Tashalans used daily for personal divinations. Quarrel scoffed derisively that such superstitions were a waste of time, but I definitely saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes when Inshula gave a personal reading to everyone but him.
I’m not quite sure how, but at some point I ended up challenging a hulking barbarian merchant to a drinking competition. Unfortunately, the bastard insisted we drank a stomach-turning mixture of wild boar’s blood mixed with milk called “braehg”. I don’t remember much after that, but I woke up in my room at the inn with a pounding headache, a gurgling stomach and an amused Umoja offering me a cup of tea.
He informed me happily that through my foolishness, I had illuminated the path for him to help the ailing diviner he had met earlier. Apparently upon drinking the braehg, the diviner had awoken and warned that a powerful anti-scrying defence was being used to guard the central location of the goblin forces. This powerful magic seems too advanced for mere goblin shamans, and compounds my fear that this whole situation is fishier than it seems.
I still don’t quite understand his talk of unexpected twists in life’s maze and of trying to guide others through its most difficult bends and curves, but his tea certainly helped settle my stomach.
The others have agreed to let me rest while they report back to Olap and Shawford. I think I need to close my eyes for a moment longer, as the room seems to be spinning once more.
I must remember to stick to grog next time...
* Perhaps I should change my name to something more appropriate. Kaptin? Shyppe? Maybe Seylar...)
I think I am veering into dangerous territory of the “noble savage” caricature with Umoja, which is absolutely not my intention. There doesn’t seem to be too much information on Chult or Ubtao out there, but I hope he is not reduced to a boring stereotype.
3rd Mirtual, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
My friend Yushai,
I wish that you were here at my side right now. I know that you would not survive here in these cold lands, but for as long as I can remember, we have travelled and explored together as friends and companions. It does not feel right to be so far away from you now, when I need your guidance and strength more than ever.
In moments of contemplation and tranquility such as these, I find myself circling back to the same questions I have been asking since I first started feeling this call northwards: why has the Lord of Dinosaurs led me to this strange place, and what is it he wants me to do here? It was at my behest that Lastri and the others travelled here, so I try to project confidence that we are on the right path, but you know as well as I that life is a maze, not a labyrinth. I hope this path does not lead to a dead end.
It such a strange feeling, being so far away from you and the vibrant jungles we are blessed to call home. Where the jungle is a glorious tangle of smells, sounds and colours, the north is barren and empty.
A battle is coming to Targos soon, and all I can do now is hope that our preparations will prove sufficient. The goblin horde threatens the delicate web of life that exists in all habitats, even here, and I will fight to protect the delicate balance. We have spent the last few days since our arrival running errands for the watch commander in preparation for an attack.
Charged with supplying the soldiers with ammo, Lastri managed to convince the tight-fisted merchant that she should waive the fee for the soldiers’ supplies. She is small, but fierce and cunning, and I admire her greatly.
We also were charged with talking to a Priest of Myrkul, a worshipper of death who could speak to the spirits of the recently deceased. He had been tasked with questioning some spirits of the dead, including a recently-felled goblin warrior, in the hopes of understanding more about the horde’s plans, strategy and motivations.
Pale-faced and soft-spoken, this man was the picture of death, surrounded by bodies and the whisper of spirits longing to move on to the afterlife. Despite this, there was an inner peace in the man that I could not help but respect. He was content, and he knew himself and his purpose. He knows his life’s maze, and walks through it with confidence, and is that not all any of us can ask for in this life? If only it was as easy for us to find our way through the maze as it is for you, friend Yushai.
The Grey One had messages from the goblin’s spirit, but he was unable to understand the language it spoke. Chir, our deep gnome companion, was able to provide a translation - “Just as we follow the three-headed beast, three of our mightiest goblins shall strike at you. As we strike at you from below, so shall we strike at your walls like the closing of a hand.”
This is worrying, not only because there is an approaching three-pronged attack, but because it sounds as if the assault on the docks when we arrived was planned to coincide with a raid on the palisade. I can only thank Ubtao that this attack was delayed, and Chir was able to translate the message before it was too late.
I do not know where the glee and exhilaration with which Chir translated the dark message comes from, but she seemed full of questions for the Myrkul priest. She tends to be this way with just about all she meets, but it seems her scholarly interest in “how” and “why” things work is not limited to the innocuous. I think she will soon learn that some things are better left unknown, but perhaps that is a lesson that she needs to learn herself. We must make our own path through the maze of life, and I will offer my guidance only if she asks for it.
Upon hearing the news of the incoming attack, Shawford Crale asked us to wrangle the death priest’s companions, the Iron Collar mercenaries, to the walls. At first it appeared that they would refuse the call, but Lastri was able to mention their connection to Phaen, the wizard who had conspired against Targos, and convince them that they would be seen as traitors too if they did not help defend its walls. Tensions were high, and I am proud of her for convincing them instead of settling the matter with her swords.
We are now sat in Crawford’s office, waiting. He has told us to rest while we can, and prepare ourselves, but the tension is almost unbearable. The goblin attack could be in a few minutes, a few hours, or even days, so we must stay vigilant. Was the goblin telling the truth, or was Chir mistaken?
I wish I had you at my side, Yushai. Individually, goblins may pose little threat, but these goblins are ruthless, organised and numerous. I suppose that even though you are not with me, I can take strength and comfort knowing you are safe and happy, hunting in the warmth of the jungle as you should be. I do not approve of violence, but I will fight the invaders, bolstered by your strength and cunning.
Roam free and feel the joy of the hunt, my dearest friend. One day we shall meet again.
1: I don't think the "noble savage" vibes are overpowering. Don't forget that this entry is Umoja's first, and you will still have plenty of time to develop him. I myself don't really start to make judgments about characters until I've seen a fair bit more.
That having been said, if you are worried about veering too far into a stereotype, one possible remedy would be to build out his backstory. The more "real" a character is in our heads, the less tempted we might be to fill gaps with stereotyped images and ideas. Questions you might ask yourself about Umoja:
What were his three most formative childhood memories?
What are his two greatest virtues? His two greatest vices?
Who was his best friend? His mentor? Of whom was he most afraid, or most jealous?
Does he have any "guilty pleasures"?
What is his greatest fear? His greatest disappointment? His greatest regret?
Why did he decide to become a druid? What is most difficult for him about living a druid's life?
Where is the greatest gap between his perceptions of himself and others' perceptions of him?
What was the last promise he broke, or lie he told?
What is the question he most wants answered?
Etc. The list could go on and on.
The fun thing about this exercise is that, as you do it, you can weave little bits and pieces in as you write, or - sometimes even more interestingly - you can leave some pieces out entirely, letting them impact Umoja's actions/thoughts without making the influence explicit to the reader.
2: There were definitely some surprises in Umoja's reactions to events - most notably, his reaction to the Myrkulian priest's interrogation of a dead goblin. Rather than view the priest's necromancy as a subversion of the natural order, Umoja seems to accept the seance without reservation, and to recognize that the priest has a purpose that could be worthy of respect. Perhaps this is only because the goblin spirits had not yet "move[d] on to the afterlife." Or perhaps Umoja just has a unique view of the role that necromancy and the undead play in the larger order.
What does seem clear is that Umoja is not a total "freethinker." His trepidation about Chir's questions does suggest a belief that the Myrkulian priest might possess some knowledge best forgotten, or at least not dredged up.
3: We are learning some interesting things about Umoja's spirituality and his spiritual personality.
Umoja & Ubtao: We learn that Umoja conceives of Ubtao as a being who is personally concerned with him - who leads him places and wants him to do things. Umoja seems to trust Ubtao, and believe that Ubtao's guidance can keep him on the "right" path. Although this all sounds fairly standard, the conventional story is always a little more complex with druids, who also tend to have a spiritual relationship with Nature itself. The resulting dynamic tends to be tri-parte [ god - druid - nature] rather than dyadic [god - priest]. It will be interesting to see what "shape" this tri-partite arrangement takes over time.
On a side note, I think it is very artful to have Umoja refer to Ubtao as "Lord of Dinosaurs" as he muses on the strangeness of his call northward. This really emphasizes the tension Umoja must feel as he grapples with what seems like a paradox - why would a god of dinosaurs send his servant to a land where dinosaurs do not (and cannot) exist? Is it mission, or exile? But I guess that's the kind of thing you sign up for when you worship a god of mazes . . . Oh - also in the same vein, I like the use of the phrase "circling back" here; it definitely evokes the experience of (unsuccessfully) trying to navigate a maze.
Umoja's Spiritual Personality: We see a few glimmers here, though, it is - I think - a little too early to see anything as set in stone. We see an inkling of the doubt which is a common motif of human life lived in faith ("I hope this path does not lead to a dead end"). We see what looks like an individualistic, rather than a communitarian or hierarchically-ordered, approach to spiritual life ("We must make our own path through the maze of life, and I will offer my guidance only if she asks for it.") [though whether this sentiment is completely genuine or rather motivated in part by an aversion to Chir is something that I think remains to be seen]. And finally, we also see what seems to be a presumption against violence ("I do not approve of violence, but I will fight the invaders"). I find this all pretty interesting, because a druid could have come out in an entirely opposite way - just remember the Shadow Druid sect based in Cloakwood. I will definitely have my eye on whether/how these initial impressions become strengthened or complicated as the story progresses.
4: I love the affection Umoja bears to Yushai ("Roam free and feel the joy of the hunt, my dearest friend.")! It's so adorable and makes me miss Yushai too. Can't wait to learn more about him (e.g., what kind of dinosaur he is, what he likes to eat, etc.).
5: As for first-person formats, here is a list I thought up quickly (some of which you have already used):
Journal entry;
Excerpts from an autobiography (Quarrel?? lol);
Letter (either to be sent ASAP, or to be personally delivered at the end of the adventure, or as a testament to be delivered in the event of death);
Monologue directed at an inanimate object (alas, poor Yorick!) (maybe best suited for Chir?);
"Monologue" during a period of personal meditation;
Free-floating internal monologue;
Conversation with god in prayer (Umoja and Grykk, but also potentially others, depending on their piety);
Hastily scrawled notes (these would probably shorter, but you could have several of them - could be an interesting way to leave gaps in the narrative, if you want to).
I'm sure there are others, but that's all I've got for now.
Keep it up! I'm always looking forward to the next installment
One thing that I was left wondering is how a dinosaur animal companion is supposed to receive a written letter. Does Targos still have messengers traveling out? Who would receive the letter on behalf of the animal? Is it so supernaturally intelligent that it can understand language and read? Or was Umoja just writing as an exercise of self-expression and to leave a record, similar to but not quite the same as keeping a journal? Does he have a telepathic link with his animal companion such that it can hear him even over great distance? Could writing down his thoughts to the animal function as kind of a spell that helps maintain the telepathic link while the two are separated?
This whole entry leaves me with a lot of questions about the details of the druid-animal companion relationship being portrayed. I'm reminded a bit of Anne McAffrey's "Dragonriders of Pern" series. She spent pretty much the whole first book laying out the details of how a human rider bonds with and communicates with his dragon, before she relaxed into writing normal conversations and interactions between the two.
Also, I can't remember if Icewind Dale 2 has any animal companion mechanic for druids and rangers. I don't think it does, does it? That's kind of too bad. I believe it was there in 3rd edition rules, and it was implemented very well for Neverwinter Nights, but IWD 2 was a really early attempt to make a 3rd edition D&D game, so maybe they couldn't figure out how to implement it back then, or didn't have the time in development to do it?
1) I really love these little questionnaires. I actually often do something similar when I make a party from scratch, just for fun, but I haven't done anything similar with this lot yet (it can be a little intimidating and time-consuming to do it for 6 characters
2 & 3 & 4) Yeah, I surprised myself a little with his reactions, but it just seemed right. Ubtao seems kind of distant and aloof as a god, so I'm interpreting that as Umoja not feeling the need to stick his nose in and tell everyone what they should and shouldn't do. This is part of why Umoja is confused about feeling this subtle but insistent tug northwards (which he assumes is a gentle nudge from Ubtao), because Ubtao normally doesn't interfere directly in people's lives.
Ubtao is a True Neutral god, even though Umoja himself has a good alignment, so I'm trying to find a balance. Ubtao thinks people just need to find their lot in life and reach a sort of inner peace (regardless of whether or not this lifestyle aligns with his morals and dogma), whereas Umoja naturallt likes and wants to help people, and wants to help guide them through life/the maze, however he can. Like I said, there's not much info on Ubtao, so I'm just making it up as I go along!
Regarding the nature aspect and the triad, it's something I've found a bit difficult, because Ubtao is so closely tied to Chult, jungles and dinosaurs (none of which the north has). My plan is to not worry about it and just see what happens as I write
5) Ohhh these are great! Thank you! Quarrel and Chir are definitely the ones I'm struggling most with because they are both outcasts (and have morals so completely different to my own). I'm sure one of your suggestions will work for them. Or if not, not everyone needs a chapter from their perspective. Maybe it will add a little bit of mystery...
@BelgarathMTH Good question! I did a bit of research and there's no telepathic or magical link between an animal companion and their druid, at least according the sources I checked. They're basically just best buddies! Umoja has no way of contacting Yushai, and Yushai wouldn't be able to comprehend any of it anyway (I think he would have an intelligence of 2, if we're being generous). It's more just like an internal monologue, directed at Yushai - similar to how people kind of "talk" to loved ones who have died about their day, their dreams, their fears, etc. You don't expect a response, but it can be comforting nonetheless.
You're right about there being no animal companions in IWD2
Thank you both so much for your feedback and questions. I really appreciate anyone who takes the time to read!
Date: 3rd Mirtual, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
Subject: Battle at the palisade
Conditions were ideal for the battle to defend the palisade - the weather was stable, forces were prepared (though unrested and unseasoned) and command was forewarned of the assault.
The bulk of the defending force consisted of untrained townsfolk (58), militiamen (31) and hired mercenaries (23), equipped with rudimentary leather armour, spears, daggers and bows. Troops were organised into companies of 10 men, led by a captain. Each company had access to a glass pot of flaming oil, and basic healing supplies but no healing draughts.
Before the battle, the following precautions were taken:
I drilled the men on how to work in conjunction when using spears, to minimise casualties.
I also ensured discipline within the ranks.
One of my companions was able to inspire the troops, though his method of doing so was objectionable and did little to calm the fears of the soldiers.
My companions and I double checked the sturdiness of defensive structures and ensured that all the seige weapons were in working order.
The assault took place in the late afternoon of the 3rd of Mirtual, 1312. The battle went as follows:
A goblin sorcerer destroyed the front gate of the palisade, allowing the vanguard to charge in. The vanguard consisted of goblins, hounds and goblin riders. The lead goblin rider was a fearsome brute the others referred to as Vghotan.
While we were occupied with Vghotan, the sorcerer breached the walls elsewhere in a pincer attack, allowing a second force of goblins to rush in, led by a hulking warrior. Once we had dealt with the goblin riders, we rushed to intercede while the bulk of the Targos guard focused on the goblin sorcerer, who led the rearguard.
Author’s note: Turns out, Grease is a lot less useful in this game! I wish I hadn’t taken it with my already hamstrung sorcerer! Also, I did not know that if a NPC walks into it, they will turn hostile. One of the dead soldiers actually turned red and tried to kill us, but was luckily taken out by a goblin before we had to bloody our hands. Oops!
We then turned our attention to the sorcerer and the remaining forces. Though we were starting to tire, we felt confident and had remained largely unharmed up until then.
Author’s note: If anyone ever plays with the semiOverhaul Mod, I think the mod has changed Goodberries, which now heal a lot more, which kind of renders Cure Light Wounds useless. Definitely the way to go.
We are now helping to clear away the bodies and manning the walls. It is unknown if another attack is imminent or if we will be granted a short respite. Our numbers are now severely depleted, and we are even more vulnerable to another assault. We were able to drive back the goblins this time, but who knows for how long.
It is time for us to take action into our own hands.
Author's note: So this isn't a RP-heavy post because it's battle-focused (which is a huge part of IWD2). I figure Grykk is the sort of person who would report battles in detail anyway so he can look back and reflect on what worked and what didn't. Because it's a report, there's not really that much personality in the writing, but I think it wouldn't fit this format anyway. I'll probably use this format only for the major battles which typically take place at the end of an in-game chapter.
I'm having audio problems with my laptop, which isn't exactly game-breaking, but it also isn't making me want to play much of anything at the moment. Not what I need during quarantine! Hopefully I will be able to fix it
Captain Lastri Kassireh’s Logbook
5th Mirtul, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
Have we really been in the frozen north for only 5 days? It feels like we have been here much longer. Exploring outside of Targos has been like walking into a new world. The snow here is everywhere, as far as the eye can see, like the ocean. However, where the sea is wild and unpredictable, here everything is still. For now, at least.
After the attack on the palisade, Lord Ulbrec decided our talents were wasted at the palisade and that the time for waiting was over. A scout had reported that the palisade assault was the raiding party of a much larger force, which had taken control of Shaengarne bridge, to the south. The reinforcements from Neverwinter are planning on using the bridge, but they cannot come to the aid of the town without first crossing the river. He therefore informed us that we would need to proceed alone, sneaking past their defences, and recapture the bridge.
While it is daunting to think of the burden being placed upon our shoulders, I am glad that Ulbrec is starting to recognise our worth. We do not yet know how we will wrestle the bridge from the horde, but I am optimistic that we will find a way and return victorious. I have survived pirate raids and sea storms, a shipwreck and even briefly being taken prisoner by jungle goblins. These creatures will not get the best of me ever again.
Before setting out, we decided to talk to the scout Ulbrec had mentioned. This scout was a gnome called Oswald Fiddlebender who had invented, of all things, a ship that travelled by *air*. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would have dismissed such a thing as a fever dream, but the gnome assured us that not only was his air ship real, it was also fully functional. I must admit, I quite like the idea of captaining my own air ship one day, sailing through clouds instead of waves. It might be nice to look down instead of looking up.
Oswald himself is an absent-minded gnome who forgets what he’s talking about before he’s even finished his sentence. Chir seemed fascinated with him, his air ship and his talk of potion making, but when we asked him about what he had seen, he was not able to provide us with any more information, so we dragged her away and set out for Shaengarne.
The trek to our destination was arduous but uneventful. Inshula is from tropical Tashalar, but she has adapted her skill as a hunter and tracker to the snowy plains of the north and I am happy to let her lead the march. She is like a caged animal who has been let back into the wilds where she belongs, and she seems a lot less irritable away from Targos.
I have never spent much time with druids before, but I assumed that they too would adapt easily to their environment, as long as they had a connection to nature. However, though he still smiles and jokes readily, Umoja seems slightly uneasy, and he rarely seems to leave Inshula’s side.
As we neared Shaengarne bridge, we were greeted by a tribe of orcs called the Broken Tusk Clan, led by an arrogant beast called Torak. They had been given the task of defending the pass to the bridge, and it was clear that they were organised and prepared. Blocking off any alternative paths, they hid behind a barricade of barrels and wood, ready to snipe at us with bows.
Luckily, we were able to triumph, once again in large part due to Chir’s magic
We fought our way through the orcs and were able to rescue a local druid called Dereth Springwalker from the orcs’ clutches. As thanks, he offered to use his nature magic to clear one of the paths the orcs had blocked off, and asked us to keep an eye out for his wife, who was missing. I later asked Umoja why he had not offered to do that, but he calmly replied that such powers were beyond him at the moment. If he felt emasculated or undermined, he did not show it.
At Grykk’s insistence, we decided to push on and search for Derek’s wife, Sabrina. I was not sure if this was the best use of our time, but I realised earning Dereth’s gratitude could prove useful. Grykk always seems ready to jump to aid others, even at the risk of our own safety. I just hope that this does not come back to bite us in the arse in the future. I heard Quarrel grumble under his breath, but he did not voice his complaints to the group. Perhaps he decided that he is just happy to test his budding talents as a sorcerer, regardless of the target, but I suspect he is still a little intimidated by Grykk.
While stealthily scouting ahead, Inshula was able to warn us of a deadly trap the orcs had waiting for us. The path ahead of us was narrow, and the orcs had set up a barrel filled with explosives that could be set alight by a nearby orc with flaming arrows.
Grykk informed us with barely contained disgust that orcs were mindless brutes who preferred charging into the fray and fighting hand-to-hand. He seems to have a special hatred for his half-kin, so I resisted the urge to point out that in battle, he typically adopts a similar strategy... Certainly, once again, it suggests that there is someone more cunning pulling the strings.
Inshula was able to sneak past the barrel and take out the sniper, allowing us to safely engage an orc runner who decided to confront us instead of running away to warn of our approach. Perhaps orcs are as stupid as Grykk claimed...
We swept through the remaining orcs without much trouble, Inshula always scouting ahead to avoid any nasty surprises. Eventually, we found Sabrina, who had been captured by the orcs. She warned us that the path ahead was littered with explosive kegs, but that they had a lookout waiting on the other bank of the river, inaccessible from this side, to set the barrels ablaze.
Grykk offered to accompany Sabrina home to make sure she was safe, and was soundly dismissed. Perhaps he was expecting a damsel in distress who needed a shining knight, but anyone who can survive out here must be tough and self-sufficient. She then used some sort of nature magic to teleport herself back home. It begs the question of how she was so easily captured by orcs if she has access to such powers... If not her for her warnings, I would have been angry at the waste of time.
As we trudged back across the river, I insisted that we stop by Dereth for a reward. My ship is not going to pay for itself, after all. While he was unable to pay us in gold (bloody tree-hugger), he gave us a beautifully crafted scimitar. He also let us rest at his house so that we would be able to face the remaining orcs at full strength.
We supped on a broth made of wild mushrooms, watercress and other greenery that the couple had been able to scavenge amidst the snow. I say leave the rabbit food to the rabbits, and let us eat the rabbits instead, but I suppose food is food. My mother would be ashamed to know I am so ungrateful towards my hosts, Cyrrollalee watch over her.
It was nice to be sat around the hearth, merry off the bottle of wine I managed to take with me from Targos, listening to Umoja asking the couple about the local fauna and flora. I think the couple were less pleased to answer Chir’s incessant babble of questions, ranging from the inane (“Do you actually know how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”) to the slightly disturbing (“Can you describe the stages of freezing to death from a physiological standpoint?”) .
The next morning, we continued onwards, tracing the river northwards until we found a path snaking upwards towards where Inshula predicted the goblin snipers were waiting to trigger the barrels. Unfortunately, the path to them was not unoccupied. After talking to his fellows the previous evening, Umoja seemed to be feeling much more confident, and before any of us could rush to engage the orcs blocking our path, he called upon the earth to tangle their feet in twisting vines. With the orcs unable to move, he then conjured forth a mighty storm to rain thunder upon those in our way. When the clouds cleared and the rain subsided, he looked on at the carnage he had wrought, clearly proud but also sad, though he said nothing as we continued upon our path. Apparently, his dinosaur god is still a force to be reckoned with, even so far away from his jungle home.
Author's note: Druids are way more fun in IWD2 and I was just playing around with his spells. I didn't intend for him to slaughter a bunch of orcs on his own!
Eventually, after a tough climb, we found and eliminated the snipers and safely destroyed the explosive barrels waiting for us on the other side of the river, protecting the only way towards Shaengarne bridge.
After, all that was left to do was make the gruelling trek back across the river to where we had found Sabrina. Continuing forwards cautiously, we confronted the orc party waiting to spring their trap. Torak was wild with rage that we had ruined his plans, but he was all bark, no bite. Instead of facing us, the coward then fled north, leaving us to deal with his underlings, who we dealt with easily.
Inshula is currently out scouting ahead, but she should be back any minute now. I don’t know what is waiting for us ahead, but I am sure that Torak has something nasty planned.
If it gets to be too much work or not as fun to write detailed narrative in formal style, I'd still be interested in reading any abbreviated reporting style you might care to change to. I haven't played Icewind Dale 2 in a long time, and I don't even know the ending parts of it. I'd like to read a reported run with a few screenshots, even without the fully written out version.
Also, you might inspire someone else to try a minimal or no reload run of IWD 2 and report it, which I would also enjoy reading about.
Thanks @BelgarathMTH! I'll definitely keep that in mind if I get tired of the longer write-ups. For now I'm still enjoying it, but if I change my mind, I'll try to keep posting here with shorter summaries. It would be great to see another IWD2 run here!
5th Mirtul, 1312 - Year of the Griffon
I sometimes wonder, master, if you ever cared about my training at all. You taught me to harness my magic and gave me a taste of power, of control, and then you disappeared without a trace. Now I find myself chasing a high I will never be able to recreate, like a weak-willed black lotus addict.
In our pursuit of Torak, my magic has proven to be of little use. My travelling companions say nothing, but I feel their judging eyes and mocking laughter as they jest and banter gaily about who took down the most orcs in our most recent battle. I must not let them see me as weak, or they will abandon me here in this frozen hell, and until I have more control over my powers, I need their protection.
Pursuing the fleeing Torak, we were met with yet another ambush, a dozen clay-brained orcs frothing at the mouths and eager to die by our hands. Unsurprisingly, Torak himself fled, once again.
In the midst of our battle, a priestess appeared out of nowhere and came to our aid. After the slaughter, she approached us and said that during the chaos of the battle, her gods-blessed sword had been stolen by a troll, of all things. How stupid one must be to be robbed by such a lumbering, ungainly creature?
Lastri had the good sense to ask what the priestess would offer us in return for its retrieval, and she said she would be happy to provide healing, free of charge. I believe she said she is a Selûnite, or some such. It matters little to me. Divine magic is infinitely inferior to the complexities of the arcane - what skill is there in walking up to the local temple and paying a little lip service? As you taught me, master, yes I needed your guidance to channel my gifts, but my power comes from within. I will admit, however, that it is important my companions stay healthy if they are to protect me properly, and I am not so stupid as to reject free healing.
The priestess also told us of a nearby logging community to the east, who she suspected needed aid against the orcs. The hulking half-orc, Grykk, was predictably outraged and insisted we investigate, even though we were already heading that way in our pursuit of Torak. Luckily he possessed enough common sense to avoid rushing in. He said that he had a bad feeling about what they had waiting for us and thus concluded that we needed to approach cautiously. A self-righteous, stupid bore he might be, but he is not a complete fool.
As we got closer to the village, we were approached by a woman who warned us that if we came any closer, Torak would slaughter all the villagers, who he was keeping hostage. Alone, I would have burned the village to the ground, villagers and all. In any other situation, they would no doubt try to burn me at a stake, as so many have tried before. Instead, I kept my mouth shut. What do I care if my bleeding-heart companions want to rescue them? It is no business of mine, and if I am to master my powers, I need all the practice I can get.
The woman informed us that there was a way to rescue the villagers, but it would require sneaking. The villagers were being kept in the logging camp, locked behind a massive gate too high to scale, and guarded by a large contingency of orcs. The gate, she informed us, could only be opened by turning a wheel located in the village, currently occupied by Torak and the remaining orcs.
She suggested - as if it was the easiest thing in the world - sneaking into the camp and opening the gates. She drew a layout of the village in the snow, indicating how we could sneak in unnoticed if she provided a distraction.
Author's note - she provides no such distraction, but in the game you can walk right by someone in the middle of the day "invisible". From a narrative perspective, that's just insanity.
I think Grykk would have volunteered himself if no one else had offered, but I’m sure he was relieved when Inshula volunteered. I don’t know if she is worryingly stupid or spectacularly confident, and I also don’t know if I should admire or despair that she is so blasé about risking her life. I noticed that Chir did not say anything, despite her race’s innate magical ability to turn invisible. Smart girl.
Author’s note: Or maybe I just forgot about that ability?
Watching Inshula walk alone towards the village, I must admit I was nervous. If you had taught me more, master, I would not need to rely on anyone, but losing Inshula now would put me at incredible risk, as she is often the one defending Chir and I on the outskirts of the battlefield.
While Inshula was away, we waited anxiously by the gates to the logging camp, ready to slip past. It felt like an eternity, and for once, the others were silent, teeth chattering in the cold wind, lost in their own thoughts. After a long while, the gate cracked open and in we rushed, ready to take the orcs by surprise.
Inshula later informed us that she had succeeded, but just barely. She had entered the camp easily enough, thanks to the villager’s distraction, but had almost tripped on a tent peg and fallen. Luckily the orcs were too busy arguing to hear her, and she had been able to sneak past the guards, open the gate and sneak out again without being noticed, but she had been very, very lucky.
Author’s note: This was stressful! There’s a potion of invisibility in the ruins of one of the houses, but I arrogantly thought that was too metagamey and then this happened! This was stupid of me, especially considering Inshula’s low intelligence means she can’t have Hide in Shadows and Move Silently at the highest level (because I want points in Wilderness Lore, which is apparently very useful later on).
The villagers were being kept like a herd of cattle in a pen, with some signature Torak explosive barrels waiting in the middle to obliterate them all into a cloud of pink dust. Luckily for Grykk and his soft heart, the orc who was supposed to light the barrel decided to attack us with his flaming arrows, instead of setting off the explosive.
Author’s note: Dumb AI.
We took care of the orcs guarding the villagers quickly, though not unscathed. Somehow, the orcs in camp did not hear the dying screams and outraged roars of their dying tribesmen. Lastri, Grykk and Umoja then started to free the villagers.
For our efforts, the villagers offered us only their thanks, “too poor” to reward us in coin. Even after rescuing them, they glared at Grykk, Chir and I warily, eyes burning with hatred and suspicion. How I despise all these small-minded yokels; they are as weak as new-born lambs, but still think of themselves as better than us.
After that, all that was left to do was confront Torak himself. At this point, it felt like we had already single-handedly defeated an army of orcs, and Inshula reported that in the orc camp, there was only a rudimentary force.
Author’s note: Forgot to take any screenshots of the battle. Oops!
We lured the orcs out of the camp, and then proceeded to take them down, the druid Umoja once more entangling the orcs in vines and summoning a localised electrical storm. This allowed the fighters to solely focus on the orcs who managed to break free and escape the storm, just a few at a time.
As I said, I fear my talents did not prove useful. In the battle, I had to resort to casting the most simple of cantrips and shooting my bow. If I don’t prove myself soon, my companions may abandon me. I know they hold little love for me, and people will look for any excuse to abandon one such as I. I would happily sneak away one night and leave them before they can leave me, but I am simply not strong enough yet to survive on my own here...
With Torak dead, we will now inform the villagers of his demise and then search for the priestess’s tacky moon sword. Truth be told, I am exhausted and my magic is spent, but for now, I am in no position to make demands that we stop and rest. I will not let them see me as the weakest link.
Master, it is so frustrating to know how much power resides in my veins, and yet not be able to access it! I am stronger than all of these weaklings combined! There is a swirling river of magic coursing through me, and all I can do is dip my toes in it. I feel it bubbling just under the surface, a hair's breadth away…
Why did you abandon me, master? Did I do something to displease you? Just when we had started to make progress, you left without a word.
I swear, if I ever see you again, I will make you rue the day you deserted me. I just need to grow stronger, and quickly. I will show them, and I will show you. I will show you all that I am not to be underestimated.
Date: 5th of Mirtul
Subject: Slimes
Our pursuit of the troll, and with it, the moon priestess’ sword, has led us to a cave near the village. Here, we have encountered most curious creatures, slimes. I must investigate the physiological properties of these forms at a later date. What exactly are they? What motivates them? Are they conscious? How do they move? They seem to be drawn to human flesh and show a rudimentary hunting instinct which is almost automatic in nature.
Some of them were still digesting their former meals, enveloping corpses and manipulating the bodies to attack (albeit clumsily). We have named them “slime zombies.” Slow as they are, one of them managed to touch Grykk, and he described the sensation as it slowly crawled up and enveloped his arm as an intense crushing pain. What would it be like to turn into such a creature? Is it possible to replicate their physiology through magical means? How would it feel to slowly squeeze the life out of a victim? I must investigate this possibility.
In addition to their crushing attack, their mass allows them to absorb blows and incoming missiles easily, and they seem to secrete an acid that allows them to dissolve flesh and other materials. I would love to observe the dissolving process from start to finish. I have taken a sample to conduct my own research at a later date, and perhaps I can ask Inshula to catch me a live rodent for testing.
Author’s note: What on earth are these slime zombies supposed to be? Couldn’t find anything about them online!
Date: 5th of Mirtul
Subject: Trolls
We have defeated the troll, Vrek Vileclaw. How did he get that name? Is it his family name, or did he earn it? Certainly his claws were vile, but does that mean some trolls have clean claws? Attractive claws?
When we confronted the troll, he showed us how, with the sword in his possession, he feared no normal weapon, as trolls are famous for their regeneration and can only be killed with acid or flame. He even gave us a demonstration, cutting himself and gloating. I need to study this phenomenon up-close. Do trolls feel pain? Is the regrowing process traumatic? What would a troll scream sound like, I wonder. I have a hypothesis that they have a high tolerance for pain, so I would need to be pretty creative. Certainly, acid or fire would need to be involved. Sounds like a fun evening!
It’s a shame I wasn't closer when Lastri threw the explosive potion we had prepared for the troll. Hopefully I will have the chance to observe more closely, next time. I think I will dedicate some time to learning elemental magic, just in case.
Author's note: So I didn't actually rest after the fight with Torak (dumb) because I forgot how annoying the slimes are, so we ended up doing this with very little magic. It wasn't too bad, but I really need to start playing more carefully!
Date: 6th of Mirtul
Subject: Dam
It seems the goblin forces were using this town to collect lumber for their fortress, as wood is scarce here. Interestingly, the pale-faced villagers informed us that the army has also been constructing a dam along the Shaengarne river. Right now, the river is frozen, but the villagers suspect that the goblins are planning on overflowing Maer Dualdon once the summer thaw begins, and flooding towns like Targos.
Personally, I think it would be quite funny to watch the humans drown, but the others seem opposed to the idea. I swear, they can be so boring, sometimes!
They wouldn’t even let me keep the moonblade to study its magical properties! Instead we returned it to the priestess. Anything that is translucent and glowing is typically imbued with very powerful magic, and I would have loved to have had the time to study the enchantments properly.
I wonder what awaits us in the highland pass? We must proceed through there to reach our destination, Shaengarne Ford. Maybe we will see an arctic fox! Or a falcon! Or a snow leopard!
I think you write the thoughts of an evil person quite well. I'm curious which form of evil you are interpreting. Her scientific but unethical thoughts make me think lawful evil, but I guess she could be neutral evil, too.
That's a very good point! I imagine she's keeping these notes under magical lock and key, maybe with a bit of invisibility thrown in for good measure. She's not exactly secretive about her interests, but I think for now the others view her as a nuisance and not much of a threat. Like your annoying younger cousin who won't stop talking about how cool and gross it was when he saw a cat get run over, or a bug explode.
I'm playing the alignments a bit fast and loose because I don't really like the limitation it places on nuance and growth and I think it's so hard to categorise people realistically, but in game, she is chaotic evil. She is a sadistic little so-and-so who wouldn't let anyone's rules stop her from investigating what she wants, how she wants, when she wants. You might have a point, though!
Thanks for your comments. It's always good to hear your perspective! I know reading about a bunch of unknown PCs is not as fun as reading about the NPCs we all know and love (in BG, for example), so I appreciate it a lot.
Thanks @RedRodent ! I appreciate the words of encouragement. How far along are you? I'm playing at a snail's pace, so I imagine you're ahead of me already (or you will be soon). If you have any spell/combat suggestions for upcoming battles, feel free to let me know as I am just so damn bad at actually playing games, despite how many hours I spend on them
And I'm not sure how much advice I could actually give, haha. I'm rp:ing a very much sub-optimal party who's only saving grace thus far have been a sharpshooting dwarf with a crossbow. But it's been fun seeing how much the game reacts to my party composition and how well it lends itself to rp:ing!
1: The field-report style of Grykk's chapter actually seemed quite fitting from a cleric of a militant order. I'm not sure if you've ever perused Caesar's De Bello Gallico, but a detailed reporting of practical facts, troop movements, etc. with minimal personal naval-gazing or speculation were actually core conventions of that distinctively Roman style of military writing of which De Bello Gallico was an outstanding exemplar. Grykk's report definitely had that sort of flavor to it, and it seemed to me to work just fine.
2: Quarrel's chapter did a great job of holding Quarrel's pride in relief against his insecurity, and a sort of internalized mistrust he is quick to project onto others. It will be interesting to see how these inner dynamics find their expression as he hits that classic power spike at access to third-level spells, and then afterward, as his power appears to ramp up exponentially next to the more melee-focused characters, whose progressions tend to be more linear and gear-dependent.
2a: The line, "Why did you abandon me, master? Did I do something to displease you? Just when we had started to make progress, you left without a word," delivered right after Quarrel meditates on his supposed closeness to the power he so craves, is very well-placed, and reveals a lot about the aforementioned tensions in a way that is very clear without being heavy-handed - well done!
3: It's worth recalling that the expression of human intelligence in character, writing, and reflection is highly varied, and so there are many, many plausible ways to narrate an experience from an "intelligent" perspective - many of which (perhaps ironically) may not have many (or any!) of the stereotypical markings of intelligence. I think you did a fine job expressing Chir's intelligence in her curiosity, which definitely seems to extend to much of the world around her, even if it has a distinctively macabre bent. More generally, Chir's character reminds me of the medieval distinction between, on the one hand, a well-ordered and admirable desire for knowledge, and, on the other hand, vana curiositas - a vice corresponding with curiosity that is vain, idle, or directed toward improper objects. Many of Chir's other vices, such as her cruelty and her pride, seem to me to have a common root in this principal flaw, and I will be interested to see whether / if this theme is developed or subverted as the narrative continues.
@RedRodent - a heavily RPed playthrough with a sub-optimal party, you say? Sounds like an excellent candidate for a write-up