Play Report Feb 13, 2026 - Boasting with the Boys #2
Introduction
A well-attended and productive session! With character generation out of the way, we got down to brass tacks immediately. I had been concerned about a two-hour session not being enough time to do much, but between my playgroupβs confidence and me relentlessly pushing the pace as GM, we can resolve a lot of planning and at least one full expedition.
Over the moon with tldraw, I canβt recommend it enough. Being able to keep bandwidth low by not sharing it, linking to key resources on the gameboard itself, and spinning up a map quickly, I will probably run all my virtual games on it from here on. East Coast US is having some Weather this weekend, so I may end up using it for my Dungeon Crawl Classics Tuesday game as well.
I need to refresh myself on boast complications, as the gang was especially interested in them and I donβt feel I gave an adequate explanation. In a previous campaign where I was a player, we almost never complicated boasts; here, it was regarded with excitement and awe. The group knows each other well and has gotten up to similar mischief in real life, so Iβm eager to see how the complicated boasts work out in practice.
A decent number of rumors abound! There is talk of the plague in Dorbog, the party has a mysterious map, and the druids are said to have great power and knowledge. Looking forward to seeing how things continue to evolve.
Report
In attendance:
- Tongueless Hjlodr
- Marcus βthe Mouseβ Mussen
- Baggi the Free
- Gray-bearded Fyfe
And introducing Thomas βThomβ of York, a sly and portly Christian priestβliterate in Latin.
Chreter Pistian overindulged in drink in Culemwardern, and was unable to join the expedition!
Realizing that perhaps even the grateful folk of Stamullen had limits to their hospitality, the band struck out for Culemwardern, a Christian port town on the northeastern coast of Ruislip. The band had designs on visiting the druids, hoping to better understand their strange ways and awesome powers. Should they be able to put in a good word for the wayward Macullen, it would be just as well.
One of the hitherto-silent ex-thralls aboard the bandβs stolen longship revealed himself as a man of the cloth, learned in letters and loopholes in his faith. Though portly and soft-handed, Thom of York was a man of obvious cunning.
Due to high winds and heavy rains, it was already dark by the time the band came to Culemwardern. As they warmed up with many a drink in the common-houses, talk of the griffon plaguing the waters reached their ears. On clear days, the monster vexed the boats of Culemwarden, carrying off fish, fishermen, and fishing craft alike. It was said to lair in a forbidding cliff some miles offshore, faintly visible on the horizon.
Though the trouble was plain as day, the cause was murky. Forgall, a challenger to the townβs headman Cioran, was inflaming rumors that neighboring Cloyne had brought the monster down upon their heads with pagan magics. Cioran was offering a great bounty to any who could manage to slay the beast.
The next morning, the band set out for Cloyne to assess the truth of the rumors for themselvesβhearing that the villagers were said to worship a wicked bird-spirit that lived along the coast. All they found was a small village, hastily erected some years prior when Culemwardern forced them to the very end of the road. They claimed that the new location imposed upon them by Culemwardern was what protected them from the griffonβs depredations, not any bird-spirit! Strangely, Cloyne did not deny the existence of the spirit.
Back in Culemwardern, the enterprising bunch began to plan. They fabricated a weighted net to be thrown upon the beast, and sketched out plans for a nighttime ascent to the griffonβs lair. Marcus Mussen boasted that as the beast was clearly nesting, he would be the first eat one of its eggs! For his part, Thom boasted that he would make a shuttlecock of the griffonβs feathers, plucked while it yet lived! Hjlodr, though mute, indicated his plan to put the monsterβs eyes out!
Their foray was blessed with a bright and clear night. Before long, the karvi was lashed to the rocks at the foot of the griffonβs sea cliff, and the band began to climb, with three of their ex-thralls in tow. Despite the darkness, the climb went off without a hitchβbut for a close call when heavyset Thom grew tired.
At the top, the band was confronted with a yawning cave. Thom drew a line of oil across the cave-mouth in case the attack was pushed back, and remained outside with his sling at the ready. The rest of the band ventured in, lighting their torches and tossing the net at the sleeping griffon!
Though the monster was surely entangled, the band had not counted on its five chicks the size of lynxes, who were soon roused and eager to tear into the warm flesh of the intruders! Quick-witted Marcus amended his boastβhe would take one of the young alive!
The net worked like a charmβby the time the griffon had rent its way out, it was too late. Eager to make good on his boast, Thom plucked a number of feathers from the dying beast before Marcus claimed another monster head with his axe! Marcus then turned his attention toward wrangling one of the chicks. The rest of the chicks were swiftly dispatched, and the band ended up taking two of the little beasts alive.
With Marcus and Thomβs boasts fulfilled, the band wrestled the griffon chicks back onto the boat and sailed back to Culemwardern with the griffonβs head lashed to the prow! With Forgall discredited, Cioran feted the band and awarded them sacks of silver for their courage. With this, they had established themselves as names on Ruislip. Whether those names would be noble or infamous still had yet to be sungβ¦