Play Report Feb 7 2025 - Boasting with the Boys #1
Introduction
At last! The first session of my Campaign26 game, a Wolves Upon the Coast open table with some of my best and most beloved IRLs. I have long wanted to get a game going with my friends, but we have had many previous attempts that didn’t pan out over the years. This time will be different, says Sisyphus. With that said I do feel that the most critical skill–follow-through–is something I’ve vastly improved as I’ve gotten older. Even over the past year, I feel my skill in the hobby has grown a lot, simply by virtue of immersing myself in a like-minded community of elfgame-heads.
You can read my original post where I set my Campaign26 intentions. I was successful in getting seven people to RSVP, though one of my buds with a toddler wasn’t able to make it the night of, and my poor little wife is sick. Still, five Wolves-a-Coasting was a good-sized table.
Under the conceit of a ruined, waterlogged map, I gave them the option to make land near to Stamullen or Culemnwardern. I also put the Isle of Dunrick on their map, as well as the monastery from the Isle. The party chose Stamullen.
For tech, I used Zoom for the video call, Google sheets for the character tracker, and tldraw for the game board. I pulled in some of KM Alexander’s fantasy map assets to help fill out the map. I am not exposing the hexmap to the players at the moment, but that may change. Should the table survive, I’ll make a Discord server for it, but I wanted to keep the game resources restricted to something people are likely to have set up already. I’m trusting my players to report their dice rolls to me using real dice or their preferred rolling app. The goal is to keep it as lightweight as possible.
THE GOOD: Wolves Upon the Coast’s setting goes down extremely smooth. Everything is just familiar enough that I felt comfortable jumping to the shorthand right away. Players understand what Ruislip is, Christians and pagans, vikings and so on.
As a result, my players understood the assignment intuitively. They wondered about the wisdom of marching a dozen and half armed knaves into Stamullen, were careful about their inventories, and solicited aid in hunting the ogre.
THE BAD: I forgot to remind my players that they should consider boasting when they set out to kill the ogre! Bad bad Crow. Rookie move. When they killed his ass I gave them all an extra HP and advised them I would call out a good boasting opportunity next session.
I also felt I had a little trouble guiding people through character generation, but this is likely as a result of my overall lack of experience running online games. In real life, I feel it’s much easier for me to demonstrate such things or lead everyone through a process in unison. This is definitely just a skill issue on my part.
THE FUNNY: As the band headed to root out the ogre, I rolled an encounter of “ogre, friendly, players surprised” which led to a great little scene where he rolled up to the party pleased as punch and they proceeded to murderize him. I love a damn random encounter.
Credit to Osse Rota for calling the ogre "Bonepicker" first... he will always be Bonepicker 2 me
Report
A saga begins on a wind-lashed night in the North Sea. While a storm rages, thralls upon a karvi out of Island overpower their masters and seize their freedom. Numbering seventeen aboard the ship, they find themselves once again at the helm of their own fates.
Of that number, five emerge as leaders of the freedmen:
- Baggi, a brawny lad who slew the band’s captor
- Fyfe, a diminutive and crafty Pict
- Chreter Pistian, fluent in Ruis and the band’s spokesman
- Markus Mussen, perhaps some defrocked monk?
- Hljodr, a silent and maimed Norseman
With only a sodden map to guide their way, the band steer their ship toward Ruislip, the Emerald Isle of Kings. Baggi, still holding the knife that slew the ship’s former master, elected to make land by the village of Stamullen, one the only legible locations on the map.
The craft runs aground on a quiet, sandy beach on a foggy morning. The five leave their dozen fellows in charge of the ship to scout ahead in Stamullen. Chreter Pistian leads this expedition with his garrulous demeanor and skill with the Ruis tongue. As they approach the village, the air grows heavy and loud with swarms of docile bees.
Wary of frightening the villagers with their lean and desperate appearance, most of the band remains well out of sight. Chreter and Fyfe go on ahead to town, finding happy and well-fed villagers living in harmony with the teeming bees.
A young druid, Macullen, acts as spokesman for the town, greeting the two visitors. Chreter learns of Macullen’s recent initiation and almost immediate censure by the druids, having purchased the town’s prosperity by taming the bees–a violation of the Circle’s edict. Thus, Stamullen is cut off from much of Ruislip; cold shoulder from the pagans and hostility from the Christians. Still, more pressing concerns face Stamullen; as Chreter negotiates room and board for the band, Macullen asks for a favor before sharing the town’s honey-wealth.
The druid tells them of ogre, Bonepicker, who lairs to the east just off the road to Culemwardern. The brute vexes travelers and commonfolk all along the north coast, stealing animals and people alike to bring back to his sprawling shack. Should the band dispose of the ogre, Macullen would happily allow the band to stay in Stamullen–and teach them some druidic arts to boot.
Accepting the terms–and a hot bowl of honeyed porridge each–the band gathers some of their ex-thralls from the boat and a few willing lads and lasses from Stamullen and sets off in pursuit of old Bonepicker!
The next morning, as they march through mist along the road to the east, who else should surprise them but the ogre himself! In a jolly mood, the ogre proudly presents his filthy sack of bones to the band and attempts to negotiate with them for one of their skinnier henchmen. Fyfe and Hljodr, finding this intolerable, fall upon the ogre before anyone else. Fyfe nicks the ogre’s leg and earns a crushing blow to the skull for his efforts, out cold!
The rest of the band joins in thereafter, cutting off Bonepicker’s escape! Hjlodr’s dirk finds a sheath in Bonepicker’s artery, uncorking a geyser of bloodwine; but it is Marcus Mussen who strike’s the deathblow, driving his battleaxe through Bonepicker’s forehead.
After wiping their blades and taking a grisly trophy or two, the morning fog burns off, revealing the ramshackle pile of stone and bone where the late Bonepicker had dwelled. With lantern and torch, the band wound through slapdash and filthy halls, the stink of death filling their noses. A woman’s cries echoed throughout, so Hjlodr crept up to find a starved peasant girl bound in a room full of Bonepicker’s riches–no doubt the ogre had been keeping her to better extract her bones!
With the girl freed, the band stuffed their pockets with booty from the ogre’s den. Most interestingly, they found a goatskin scroll with what appeared to be a map on it. The whole band scratched their heads, but they could not make head or tails of the grid-pattern traced upon it.
Back in Stamullen, the villagers celebrated the death of the hateful Bonepicker, though many commented on their modesty–most freebooters would have made grand promises and oaths before setting out. Still, all of Stamullen promised to spread word of the band’s deeds to anyone who would listen.
For his part, Macullen saw the bargain fulfilled. The band would have a place by the fire and a bowl of porridge as long as Stamullen could spare; and the band would learn how the druids use betony, hazel and rowan.
His face darkening, Macullen told them where the druid’s circle could be found, and that perhaps the band could plead his case now that they bore Bonepicker’s severed head as their credit. He also told them that the largest pagan town to the south, Dorbog, was vexed by plague… perhaps a curse.
Still, the band and their crew had much mead to drink before deciding upon their next move! Freedom is sweet as honey.