I’ve been planning to run an OSE D&D game for my friends and will be doing so next week. But in the meantime, I decided to try and get a handle on the rules by playing solo, something I’ve heard about but never done. So I rolled up a character last night, chose a class, some starting equipment, and grabbed my dice. It was a blast! I was glued to my Microsoft Word document journaling what happened and rolling dice for several hours, which was surprisingly long for what happened in the session. Included below is my Character sheet and what I had journaled for my first session, dice rolls are in parenthesis but let me know if you have a better idea for implementing them into the text.
Mallara – Session 1
The Caravan slid to an abrupt stop. The commotion disturbed the cart’s contents and removed the hood from Mallara’s head. She stood to attention and reached for her sword. The men-at-arms guarding the caravan readied their bows and looked for what caused the commotion. The road ahead of the caravan had been set ablaze with flaming oil. A great beast bellowed from a hill to the north uttering a savage battlecry.
“Drop your weapons and I’ll only leave ye coinless!” the creature screeched
The monsters’ fangs were several inches long and jaggedly crooked. It was a hobgoblin, a muscular orange-skinned humanoid with a hooked nose, long fangs, and skin covered in dark warts. Mallara had heard tales of how the wild goblin kind treated elves and she longed for her blade to taste the creature’s blood. She quickly leaped from the cart and climbed the hill towards the hobgoblin. (Initiative: Hobgoblin 6, Caravan/Mallara: 1)
The beast was ready for her and it took a heavy-handed swing with its rust-covered saber. The blade harmlessly clattered against her plate mail (5+1). Mallara knew that only bludgeoning weapons or well-aimed strikes could puncture her defenses and she used this to her advantage. Pressing forward she stabbed her long estoc in the creature’s direction but the beast nimbly parried her blow.(5+2) (3+1) Mallara sidestepped the creature to carefully turn its back to the bowmen behind her. (1) (15) (18) (19) (10 damage) The bowmen were ready for her maneuver and quickly turned the creature into a bloody pincushion. Sweat dripped down her brow as she realized the fight was only just beginning.
Over the hill were several lesser goblins. Mallara realized she wasn’t the only one executing a clever plan. (16, 9, 15, 11, 14) (2/7hp) Four arrows sailed by her head and one punched through her armor planting itself deep within her thigh. Mallara fell, her armor clattering as she rolled down the grassy hill toward the caravan. (Initiative: Goblins 6, Caravans 6) One of the men-at-arms grabbed Mallara, a boy no older than 14, and dragged her to safety behind a cart pulled by two oxen.
“Goblins. Five by my count.” Mallara coughed as she pulled her spellbook from its clasp at her waist.
“Aye,” The boy’s eyes squinted at the hill ahead as he shakily drew his bowstring back and knocked an arrow.
The goblins pushed over the hill and two loosed arrows as they reached the apex. An arrow sailed into the boy, pinning his head to the ground behind him as his knees crumpled. (Natural 20, 6 damage) (1) The other 3 goblins recklessly charged the other men-at-arms with their rusty short swords. (10, 1, 19 goblins) (2 damage) (13, 1, 9, 1 Men-at-arms) As the two sides clashed Mallara weighed her options and quickly plunged the tip of her sword into the muddy ground below. Making arcane gestures with her now free hand she quickly executed the precise movements required to cast the magic missile spell she had committed to memory this morning. (3+1 damage) As the spell left her mind a vibrantly colored purple arrow was flung into the head of one of the goblins on the hill killing it instantly. (Initiative: Goblins: 3, caravan 3).
Four goblins remained, an even match for the caravan guards now. The sides clashed (Goblins 17, 5, 6, 8) (Damage 1) (Men-at-arms: 18, 12, 17) (Damage 6, and 4) (Morale: Successful on both sides) and two more of the goblins fell leaving the guardsmen bloodied. Mallara pulled her estoc from the ground and charged the remaining archer atop the hill. Her blade erupted through the back of its skull in a swift thrust (Natural 20, 6+2 damage). The remaining goblin quickly dropped to its knees in surrender but its submission wasn’t taken lightly. With a swift flick of their blades, the goblins were no more. Mal breathed heavily and sat at the back of one of the open-backed carts. Her thigh was slick with a warm redness that painted her plate-covered leg.
“Fucking hell! Got you good didn’t they,” one of the men approached Mal, his hands filled with a large linen cloth.
“Yeah, I seem to be in a bit of a predicament…” Mal said as she writhed in pain after so much as touching the arrow nestled in her leg.
“Worry not” The man handed the cloth to another fellow who soon departed
She noticed the holy symbol around the man’s neck as she spoke to the kind-faced man. Seeing the concern in his eyes Mallara decided to trust him.
“Get ready to pull it from your leg in one swift motion. Don’t touch it until you’re ready”
She gripped the arrow and pulled it from her leg. Mal let out a pained squeal as she put her faith in whatever the man had up his sleeve. (Cure light wounds:3+1) (6/7hp)
As the arrow left from its burrow blood spurted from her leg and quickly soaked into the leather padding underneath her armor. The man’s hands flickered with holy light as he said some words Mal couldn’t quite hear. She could feel the wound in her leg had been filled with new flesh. Thank the gods and their clerics, she thought.
“You know you’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for me” The man offered a hand to the elf.
“An arrow planted that deep would kill any man”
“Good thing I’m no man,” she accepted the man’s hand.
“And good thing you were here, you have my gratitude” She took a deep bow in his direction before returning to a less formal posture.
“Praise from an elf! That’s worth more than any piss poor coin I’m getting paid from this job!” The man laughed heartily and slapped a hand to his chainmail-covered belly.
The other men-at-arms drew closer. A shaggy man with curly red hair and a large beard waved to the cleric and the elf.
“You’all good to keep movin’?” His voice was like the growl of a bear.
“Good as ever I suppose”
The red-headed man waved to the caravan crew who began to leap back into action. The oxen whined slightly as their reigns were cracked and their hooves started moving. The cleric waved to Mal as he left towards the front of the caravan.
Mallara found her way to the cart that contained her belongings and rooted through her backpack. She found that fine silk cloth her mother had woven for her as a child and quickly dirtied it removing the grime that had built up on her armor. Next to her in the covered cart was a corpse wrapped in white cloth. It was the boy who had pulled her to safety during the battle several minutes ago. Mallara cursed herself for not seeing the hobgoblins’ trickery sooner. The lives of men are so short, she thought. The boy beside her died without even being of age to bed a woman. Had he been an elf this would have been a great tragedy that was mourned for seven days and seven nights by everyone in Myth Cor Guessir. But for men, this was shockingly common. Man, that is what he was now, no longer a boy. The rest of the men in the caravan continued their work.
Mal took her place back with the rest of the guards and the day would shortly turn to night. The night sky was covered with a dreary cloud cover the queer colors of the 3 visible moons barely showing through. The people of the caravan had constructed a makeshift camp for the night with several tents and several fires at the center. The men-at-arms gathered around the largest fire and drank summer wine from wooden cups. A wild boar was roasting that the redheaded man had caught early in the evening. As Mallara wasn’t on guard duty tonight she’d doffed her armor and was instead wearing her bedclothes behind a large glossy green cloak that covered them. The smell of the meat and wine drew her from her tent and she walked towards the fire to join the others.
The men here treated her differently when she wasn’t in her armor, still respectfully, but much softer. Mallara was used to being cat-called by drunkards in towns and taverns when she was unarmed and unarmored, but the men here respected her. She took a seat next to the kind brown-haired cleric as he poured her a drink.
“I deednt know ealfs drAnk!” The red-haired man bellowed from across the fire.
“I’m pretty sure they do.” the cleric smiled and handed her a wooden cup.
“On occasion,” she took a small sip of the sweet summer wine. The alcoholic warmth of the strong beverage quickly colored the ends of her long-pointed ears a shade similar to the drink.
“Impressive work earlier. quite the tumble you made,” The fourth one said over the crackling bonfire. He was a middle-aged man with short greying black hair and soft blue eyes. His cheek bore a small scar from one of the goblins’ twisted blades. The man whittled away at a small piece of wood with his dagger.
“I’d have been dead if not for our cleric here”
“Aye, that yE would have! That yE would have!” The red-headed one laughed
“A shame Cedric didn’t make it,” The cleric said with a somber tone
“Can’t believe they let a boy that young-“
“A man” Mallara interrupted sternly
“You’re right, suppose he is a man now, but he was still too young for this job,” Finished the grey-haired thief
“Aye yes, very sad about the lad but at least he died in battle” The red one grinned
“Almost forgot, I pulled this off the orange-ones corpse” The shaggy red-haired barbarian of a man pulled a tarnished gold amulet from the pocket of a wolf-pelt at his waist. The amulet was a sunburst decorated with four different colored gems.
“I figure we should split it since the glory of battle was shared ‘tween us”
“Thoughtful, for a Berserker of Galador,” remarked the greying thief
Mallara’s ears pricked up, and a chill ran down her spine. Her mother had told her of such people in her childhood, heartless savages who tore ears from heads in their wars against the elven homeland. The stories of red-haired monsters burning the great arch-trees of Myth Cor Guessir turned her stomach and she was shocked that she hadn’t put two and two together during their battle earlier.
“Ere ya go” The berserker had split the amulet into fourths with his axe and handed a portion of it to each of the people at the fire. He Extended a portion of it to Mal now. It sat in his gigantic hand as he smiled with a savage toothy grin.
She took the tarnished gold semi-circle, unsure of how to respond, and said “T-thank you.”
“Wat’cher name lass” The red demon grinned.
To Be Continued
Object Interaction 