Session 2 of our FGII game was fraught with difficulties...personal difficulties; the group rolled excellently through out whilst I tried to set a precedent of failing most of my actions. My second game taught me the perils of...well of dice.
Having decided on our plan to make haste in our pursuit of the children of Woodland Hall and their Orc captors, Trotter, Aidith (The Bridge), Wulfgar (The Healer), Beli and Hamarr pressed into the tangled, dark maze of Mirkwood. We engaged in our first 'journey' or 'travel' phase in which each party member rolled in fulfilling their chosen roles of guide, scout, huntsman and lookout. The mechanics behind this is such that each role fulfills tasks such as ascertaining the route, scouting, tracking and 'spotting' respectively; the success of each can be melded together to form the overall success or failings of the journey in question. In our case, things looked promising as we discovered a short cut through the thick forest which could incur a marked increase in the speed of our pursuit, perhaps allowing us to overtake our enemy. Great roll huh? What you're probably wandering is how my spotting roll turned out?
Goblin arrows whistled between the trees and Hamarr, surprised and failing his protection roll, was immediately wounded. Beli and Aidith rushed forward and easily dispatched the ambushers whilst Wulfgar rushed to tend to Hamarr's wound. Following a brief rest as the shamed Hamarr regained some strength, the group moved quickly, sensing their enemy must be close. Such eagerness saw the party unwittingly arrive in an area thick with the webs of Spiders. Three rushed the group but fell to 3 massive rolls; two silenced swiftly with fatal arrows to the head in the initial volley; another to a massive wound from the Bride's great axe. Hamarr on the other hand threw a spear into a tree.
With lessons learnt and a great deal more caution applied (and taking the groups fate firmly out of my die rolling hands), Trotter sneaked ahead to learn the location of our prey. Our sneaky hobbit spotted our enemy camped in front of a large cave, puzzlingly deeply encamped in the heart of Spider territory. Spiders lurked in the above branches whilst fixed in the damp forest mist hung a number of cocooned sacs; the tale of Bilbo Baggins warned us of the possibility of these being the prisoners. Risking all the group continue forwards in hope to ambush the Orc camp quickly, perhaps even quiet enough to not immediately alert the enemy above.
A what? A stealth roll? Sure.
Hamarr's wounded thigh gives out as he slowly seeks to traverse a fallen tree and his feet land heavily; the subtle and delicate snaps in the undergrowth are met with the hiss of curved Orcish blades leaving scabbards and the camp roars in our direction.
Neither Hamarr's sword nor his spear made contact with an enemy; in hindsight I am pleased he did not go so far as to stab himself. He remains wounded and the group decided to part ways for the night, but not before Hamarr succeeded in alerting an entire camp of Orc to the groups presence and of course their creepy friends lurking in the canopy above. Perhaps if he attracts a large enough horde then he'll find it hard to miss next time?
Check back for next Sunday's update where I will most certainly impale a friend and toss a spider a healing potion.
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