LostKnightsRPG.org

This week Chet is supposed to run his first session. People should endeavor to have characters and maybe post a bit of a back story?

Character build rules:
pathfinder, e6
2nd lvl
25pt stat buy
2nd level wealth
stat gains every 3 lvls

Story:
Dart was a washing boy in the [insert appropriate royalty]'s [insert appropriate castle-like dwelling]. He was bright, agile, and mischevious, but he had a true heart and a gentle disposition. He played with the other children of the [dwelling] regardless of rank, and made many friends. Some taught him in letters, and when the [skald/bard/whatever] had time, Dart was able to learn tricks and songs from abroad. His life, for a serving boy, was blessed. Until the [ruler]'s daughter Enara, his best friend, came of age
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Enara was beautiful, innocent, and idealistic; she saw no reason to leave her friend behind simply because she was growing up. They would marry, her father couldn't stop true love. Dart knew better, but couldn't bring himself to believe their bond would be broken, not when the fantasy was so much better. When the 14 year old Enara's betrothal was announced, both were shocked. Dart was afraid, but Enara was angry; she approached her father, and rebeliously refused the marriage, not realizing what her actions would mean for Dart. The king, angered and humiliated by his daughter's indiscretion, imprisoned Dart for his "untoward acts", sentencing him to castration and slavery.

The king, though rash, was also merciful in his way. He wished no harm on the lad, and knowing that if the sentence were carried out it would not only leave Enara scarred, but also alienate her forever, the King made certain options to Dart. The king made made Dart's location known to several of the other noble youths, friends of the lad and sure to try and aid him; when they were too slow to act, he told his own son to take Dart a key. Finally, the king made it clear to the jailors that they were to allow any escape to occur without interference.

Dart, for his part, didn't know that his escape had been arranged at the highest levels, only that he would take exile over slavery. He made one stop as he left, to say goodbye to Enara; after a tearful farewell, Dart was on the road. He barely scraped by his first winter, having been raised in the relative luxury of the [domicile], but with nimble fingers and deft wit he was able to steal and scavenge enough to make do. By spring, he was traveling with a carnival troupe, where he was able to make a living with his biting wit, supplemented by the ocassional lifted purse here and there. He learned from everyone he could, from the troupe's knife throwing magician, to the blind old scholar that travelled with them telling stories of the ancient days.

Years passed, and Dart was a man grown, eager to forge his own path. Though he loved the carnival, he had secret dreams of building a name and wealth, and one day returning to claim his lovely Enara's hand. Dreams filling his head, he set out to [insert city] to make his fortune. Alas, it was not to be. Only days in the city, stealing to survive, Dart ran afoul of the city's theives guild. They offered him up to the corrupt guards for poaching on their territory, and he sat in gaol for long hungry days before the jailor came to take him to the mayor.

Dart was yet again saved from his fate. The mayor had recently recieved a request for aid, a request to send the most promising of the city's youth to die in some war. Such a request was unpopular, and would take valuable individuals away from the city. Dart, however, was expendable. If he were willing, explained the mayor, Dart could leave the town with the recruiter as a hero, rather than with a brand and a missing hand. The choice was his.
Dart chose the only real path open to him. Hopefully it didn't kill him.

Our story is set in a world I have been working on in the background for as long as I've been GMing. This will be the first game set in it since the campaign that started things off...The world is called Esuah, and its history is long and rich.

At a later date I'll post some historical information if people are interested. For now I'll start with the deities since that info has been requested.

Gods of the Southern Kingdoms

Urehn: Goddess of the waters, source of all human life. Mate of Shirak. Had an affair with Wood God, gave birth to humankind, and gave them to Deinarra to wet nurse. She hides at the bottom of the sea that bears her name from Shirak's wrath; which are the storms that blow across the sea.

Shirak: Lord of the Skies. Makes the weather; his children, the sun and moon deities, pass daily between him and his former mate, Urehn.

Deinarra: Mother earth, mother of animals and plants, healer, nurturer.

Dannu: The Wood God, God of the Hunt, Keeper of the Wild, Father of Man.

Rhynn: Goddess of Wisdom, Lady of Courage and Honor, Kindler of Stars.

Mored Thonn: God of Laws, Keeper of Oaths.

Kelebennin: God of Smiths & Crafters.

Kuirbhallan: Lord of the Mountains. He is actually Thalkan, the chief Dwarven god, worshiped be Men who live near Dwarven settlements.

Hamar & Kedar: Twin gods of Death and War, respectively. They are often together. One is the unswerving guardian of the Gates of Death; the other is the perfect steadfast warrior.

Lady of Fortune: Goddess of Fortune/Fate/Luck.

Theron: God of Law and Order, defender of the weak.

Druce: God of Knowledge. The traveler; he sails the universe, learning about everything and recording it in his innumerable journals.

The following demonic cults have been noted in this region:

Stephon the Black: Demon Lord of Shadows.

Gehgrahl: Demon Lord of Undeath.

Notram Elmas: Demon Lord of Murder and Lies.

Sir Trenton Ulrick fought the good fight for nearly twenty years. His claim to fame was origionally thrashing a group of goblins that were ravaging his hometown of Threole. After he managed to deal with that small nuisance, he was rewarded with a recruitment into the King’s army. For fifteen years he fought King and country, fighting gnolls, ogres and rebellions. He barely saw the child he’d fathered or his lovely vice Dierdre, whom he’d made a home with. When he returned, a much older, scarred and jaded Trenton settled in for a life of training the new generation. He wanted to settle in for a normal life, enjoying the position of mayor, and possibly making a few more additions to his family with the woman he loved, the years had left her more rounded but still lovely, but life never gives us what we want. Just two years into his retirement a skirmish broke out in the south. His son, Edward, head strong and chomping at the bit to prove himself, ran off to fight like his father did.

He barely lasted a month out of basic. His first ‘real’ battle was his last. Charging ahead only works when the army follows you, but being rapidly flanked and slaughtered by orcs is not the stuff of legends.

When his son came home it was the death of his wife, and it killed any hopes of happiness for Ulrick. If life could take his son and wife in one fell swoop, he saw no reason to bother with it any more. He would go out one last time for King an country, there was nothing else to live for.

The worst layabout in his village, Largo has always seemed to go out of his way to be as lazy as possible. He was a problem child; frequently getting into fights and other trouble. After reaching majority, he drank, did odd jobs, and generally remained a local nuisance.

He was put in jail more than a few times. He never did anything bad enough to warrant more than a week or so, much to the dismay of most of the locals. He dealt with unsavory people, continued to get into drunken fights, and never seemed to learn his lesson.

When the call came from Duke Falon to send someone, Largo was sitting in a jail cell. He'd been in another fight after arguing with the local inn keep over his tab. Lacking anyone the locals might call a hero and getting sick of throwing him in a cell every few days, they sent him. He was, after all, a pretty decent fighter. They issued an ultimatum to him; he could not come home unless he performed whatever task was asked of him. They sent letters to all the other free cities with his description and a request to have him jailed and extradited back to them if he attempted to take refuge elsewhere.

So he went. What option did he have? They ensured he had the gear he'd need and had a pair of the town guards escort him to Falon's keep - to make sure he wouldn't bolt.

Story:
Aladair Norodiir was left at the door of a monastery before he was a year old. From the time he could walk he showed some latent arcane abilities. The monks decided to teach the young Aladair to harness these abilities and focus them through martial arts. Aladair learned to focus his mind and improve his martial prowess with his innate arcane power. Through all this training he devoted himself to perfecting his body as a weapon. Before he even reached the tender age of 100 he had mastered what the monks had to teach him and he was showing promise as a powerful magus. Soon after his 100th birthday he was sent from the monastery to take part in an assembly at the Court of Duke Fallon.

Appearance:
Aladair stands about 6'3" tall and has sandy brown hair with deep emerald eyes. He is slightly bulky for an elf, but still is very lithe and graceful. He generally wears simple cloth clothing and walks with a quarterstaff. The only weapon he keeps on him is a kama. The only item of luxury he has on him is a simple ivory pendant that he wears around his neck at all times.

ANY INFORMATION AT ALL ABOUT THE JOURNEY FROM THE WEST
My, Sir Ulrich, what a broad-reaching question. It will require a broad-reaching answer. The first part will have to come from the personal journals of some of the individual founders. The second part will come from the scribal record kept by Jarus Onehand.

In the 1110th year after the Age of War, events came to a head which would have a profound effect on human civilization.

Since the fall of the Great Empire, reverence for the Luminaten of their forefathers had steadily waned among men. The Luminaten of various Maridorn factions had fallen into obscurity long before...shortly after their arrival on Esuah, in fact. Those of the Lenghyr adopted the Maridorns as their own, and if their council had been followed, their adopted children would have been treated as equal with their natural children [The Telalen had their own Luminaten which they worshipped even in the latter days of the Empire when unapproved worship was suppressed.] As the Empire grew more powerful, and the Lenghyr grew more prideful, a gradual change came over their Luminaten. They too became more prideful and less concerned with doing what was right than what best served their desires. Or perhaps it was the other way round; as the Empire grew, the Luminaten grew more prideful, reveling in the accomplishments of their mighty children, and this attribute was passed on to the Lenghyr. Or perhaps the parents and their children are so intimately connected that they changed together. Regardless of the mechanism, Sir Knight, the fact remains that the values held dear by the Lenghyr and their “gods” were much different at the end of the Empire than at the beginning.

In the chaos after the fall, a small group discovered an old holy book from the time of the Kingdom of Larosch. In it they found admonitions to live honorably, do good to others with no expectation of reward or even recognition, and other such teachings. By living these teachings they began finding an inner peace and quiet satisfaction. When they tried to share these things with others, most ridiculed them, but a few found them equally fulfilling and embraced them. As the movement grew, they began to be persecuted by the active clergy because the Luminaten didn't want to be reminded (nor did they want others reminded) of the virtues they once espoused.

For many years, the Believers, as they called themselves, dwelt in scattered pockets among the warring factions; but as more and more lands fell under the sway of Dragon Lords, Demon Lords, or more servants of the Dark Master, they found themselves being driven closer and closer together.

Then, when the Tuhl began their invasion of the south, their leader, a minor Lenghyr lord by the name of Alden Weslonn, began to get a strong feeling that the Believers needed to flee the area in search of a new land to settle. For several years, they delayed, frightened of what lay beyond the settled and civilized lands. But then conditions worsened. Religion became as hot a point of contention as territory. Lenghyr kingdoms insisted on all their citizens worshiping in state shrines. In the lands ruled by Dragon Lords and Pale Ones, a movement was underway to force their people to worship the 13 “First Fathers” or the Dark Master himself as Luminaten.

Excerpt from the book of Urehn: “Children of Urehn: Originally lived around the lake and in the nearby forest (which was much nearer then). They prospered in obscurity for a while, the priests and priestesses of the war goddess Rhynn fought in the wars against the Dark Master, but their lands weren’t directly threatened (not much anyway). In the centuries after the Age of War, they suffered some unknown calamity. The society was essentially destroyed, only the Holy City and the Temple on the Holy Isle of Rhynn survived, guarded by the warrior-clergy of Rhynn and a group of Numrov warriors. Many fled (or maybe led by Numrov) south into the Sea of Grass, eventually becoming the nomadic Horse People. [The Horse People have a Plains Indian type culture.]
Rhynn, goddess of cunning and battle is born after Urehn’s exile. Shawhelon rages violent storms across the lake. She mystically “steals” some of his seed using a water sprout as a conduit. She gives birth to an immortal daughter in the hope that she will be a peacemaker between her and her enraged mate. Instead Rhynn is a goddess of war, as feared and as fearsome as her fathers rage tempered with the intellect of her mother's contemplative side.”

Finally, Lord Weston knew they wait no longer. Spreading the call quietly, by word of mouth to keep it secret, people began quietly slipping away from their homes, headed for the rendezvous inside the kingdom of Bareil. The king of (the name of the land has been lost to us) suspected something major was happening, he suspects the people are gathering for an uprising. Learning through spies the Lord Weslonn is at the heart of whats going on, he sends his spies to Weslonn’s keep. They find no sign of any military buildup, or that the people are worried about war. They also find no trace of any of the people who have gone missing. Still, he will take no chances, he sends an advance force racing towards Weslonn’s keep. When they arrive they find the gates barred and their challenges are met by silence. After searching in vain for townsfolk to question they battered down they gates. Inside they found the keep to be deserted. There were no people or animals to be found, the hearths were all cold, but there was no disarray, the furniture was orderly, all the beds were made. When they began to loot the house they found that all the non perishable food was gone, as was all the moveable wealth. Lord Weslonn and all his people had simply vanished.

Around 3500-4000 Believers set out on the journey in search of a new homeland. As the main companies made their slow way on foot around the southern edge of the kingdom of the Bareil into the Following Hills, Lord Weslonn rode ahead with some of his knights, searching for a safe pass through the Barrier Range. He consulted the Bareil, but they could offer little help; the pass they used to travel to and from Carilorn had recently been blockaded by a goblin clan (whose Lord was a dragon named Anafel the Cruel).

Lord Weslonn had a strong sense, made stronger by fragments of dreams, that the land they sought (and which, in a way, sought them) lay to the east, over the mountains. But the dreams weren’t telling him the road he should take.

After days of riding along at the feet of the mountains, investigating likely ravines. questioning Bareilli miners, even interrogating a few captured goblins, Lord Weslonn was learning that the Barrier Range truly lived up to its name. he was beginning to think his people would have to take the hazardous roads at the north end of the mountains, which would mean an arduous and dangerous climb up the Northwall and a long detour of over 500 leagues over difficult, rock, goblin and kobold infested terrain, if the Telalen coastal maps were to be believed. And that was just to get to the other side of the mountains, he had no idea how far this new land was east of the mountains.

Then, as he was riding back to check on the people who had placed themselves under his care, he felt drawn to ride up into a wild, forested ravine. The men with him were puzzled by this, since a group of Braleilli woodcutters they had spoken to told them that though the ravine wound some 10 leagues into the mountains, there was no outlet at its end which wagons and carts could traverse. Yet when he answered their queries with, “I just feel drawn there,” they simply accepted it and followed after their lord. Such was the strength of Lord Alden Weslonn’s leadership.

As they neared the end of the winding valley, they heard the sound of axes and falling trees. Thinking they might meet again the woodcutter they had befriended on their way north, they pressed forward. Thus their surprise was doubled when their eyes fell upon a sight no Man or Elf had seen in over a thousand years. And the party of Breigakel woodcutters, busy with their labor, were no less surprised. For a long moment, the two groups simply stared at each other. It took some minutes for Lord Weslonn to realize what he was seeing, and a few more for his mind to accept it. He had, of course, read about Kel and learned of their doings during the Age of War as part of his education. He had even seen a statue of one which was said to have come from a Numrov city which had been abandoned and taken over by Men. However, none of this prepared him for the living, breathing reality. He wracked his brain for the Kelite greeting he had found in a book and memorized to use with his boyhood friends. He finally found it and rolled it out carefully. As he did, it felt to him, even more than it had then, like a magic spell. The Kel all looked around at each other with strange expressions, and he began to wonder if he had so badly pronounced it that it was unrecognizable, or that he had inadvertently uttered a curse or an insult.

Finally one of the Kel stepped forward and approached him, bowed slowly and solemnly, and returned the greeting, but with a much different pronunciation. He then began to question Lord Weslonn in the Kel, and Weslonn had to inform him through gestures that he didn’t actually speak Kel. It took several minutes, but they finally found a language they both understood… written Numrov. Neither spoke Numrov, but they were each scholarly enough to have learned to read it so they could study lore books.

So, scratching excitedly into the dirt, the two men began to renew relations between Men and Kel – ties that had been severed for 1000 years.

The Kel’s name was Bregan of the Stonefist clan. He and his crew had been sent into this valley to get some wood which though almost never used in construction, was prized for making furniture and art. The Kel know the low end of this valley saw some traffic, but this area, the extreme upper end, was hardly ever visited, especially at night when the Kel usually come out to work. The only reason they were out now was because a whole load of oak intended for a batch of tables, benches, and chairs in a Clan Father’s banquet hall had been ruined by water and must be replaced at once.

The unusual reaction to his greeting was the result of a prophecy, made 80 years ago by an aged priest at a convention to decide whether to reveal themselves and end their long exile. Much was made of it because priests of Thalkan are rarely given to prophecy, and almost never so openly.

The conference was ending the way such conferences had been ending for hundreds of years, the “old guard” were doggedly clinging to the status quo, despite the advice of those whom they pretended to seek counsel from. Finally, amid the shouting an old man's voice cut through the din, saying, “Behold, one shall come from the surface, speaking a greeting in the ancient tongue. His voice shall be as the drums of doom to your isolation. Him shall you heed and honor, or doom will fall upon your cities without warning.” Therefore Bregan Stonefist invited Alden Weslonn to meet the Patriarchal council of his city. Then they parted with a handshake, Bregan to make arrangements for the meeting, and Lord Weslonn to gather his own council from within the walking companies.

Lord Weslonn and his advisors were concerned about the language barrier they faced. Would they be reduced to having a conversation in written Numrov?

Late the next morning, the Men were led into the Kellite city of “Sun Stream”. They marveled at the beauty of the underground city. The walls of passages and chambers were plastered and painted light or bright colors, and the floors were covered in shining tiles and mosaics.

Things didn’t go as badly as expected they might, it turned out there was a member of each group that could not only read and write the ancient Numrov, but speak it too. Therefore, through these dual interpreters, the two leaders conversed. They were wary at first, the Kel because of their centuries long self imposed isolation (along with rumors they had heard of the surface worlds descent into darkness) and the Men because of the persecution they had suffered. But the more they learned of each other, the more they came to realize that in many ways they were more alike than different.

Soon, Lord Weslonn discovered why he had been led to that fateful meeting. The Kel over the long years, had built tunnels and “highways” forming a network that went right through the mountain range. And in exchange for a resource he had access to, the patriarch would allow his people to pass through. So as a pair of Kel guides led the travelers to the eastern foothills, Lord Weslonn’s old friend, the scribe/historian Jaros One Hand, sat with the Kel’s scribes and filled in the Kels historical knowledge. Not only had they been cut off from the outside world for over 1000 years but they had lost all of their own historical records up to the latter years of their long civil war. They know by oral tradition that they had once been a strong nation with an advanced culture, but folly drove them nearly to extinction. Their advanced culture collapsed leaving not far above stone age lore. In the 525 years since records began to be kept, their numbers had grown and they were well on their way to regaining the lore they had lost. Most of the building techniques had been relearned, and in their smithcraft only the most esoteric secrets still eluded them, but in the cutting of gems and in crafting fine jewelry the “ancients” still far outstripped them. They had, as a sort of yard stick to gauge their progress, ancient artifacts from the Age of War and earlier; weapons and armor, buildings, and stunning pieces of jewelry. However, in one area of knowledge, they had exceeded their forefathers; alchemy and herb lore. Apparently, even as other areas of knowledge were being lost (loremasters and master craftsmen were targets for assassination) a sort of “arms race” in this area of knowledge had begun. Only the Nagas have more advanced alchemical knowledge than the Kel.

Moving quickly and carefully with flankers and scouts turning away prying eyes, the people slipped unnoticed into the Kelite city. They even went to the trouble of wiping out the tracks leading to the entrance and created a false trail that led up the mountainside and vanished mysteriously over a patch of bare rock.

The Kel lent their aid in a number of was in addition to the guides, many Kel helped to dismantle the wagons and carts and carry them and their contents through (there were some areas where the slope was too steep, or there were steps, or the passage was too narrow). The leading members of some of the more prominent families/clans donated a dozen or so of their amazing enchanted light stones, whose bright lights made it easier for the animals to travel the underground passages. Kel merchants traded generously, providing food in exchange for “exotic” human crafted goods or things from the surface world generally unavailable to the Kel (furs and pressed flowers were the most popular).

The people made their way through the Kel realm, taking the better part of two weeks to traverse the 65-70 leagues. At last they emerged into the sunlight in the eastern foothills of the Barrier Range. At first they rejoiced to be out of the dark, but they began to see the utter desolation o the Beastlands spreading out below them. Lord Weslonn could easily see why the Kel never came here. He let them rest for a few days to recover their strength (and put their wagons back together), then he got them moving again by the sheer force of his will.

They moved as quickly as they could, stopping seldom to rest and not daring to make full camp. They just circled themselves into a crude defensive position and took what rest they could. On nearly every day, the captains and their warriors rushed out to battle the raiding Beastmen. They were fortunate to be making the crossing in the early spring when the temperatures weren’t so high.

By the middle of the second week, matters began to look bleak. Many of the weak, the very old, and the very young began to suffer greatly for want of water, and the warriors were reaching the end of their endurance. Every day saw their number shrink from wounds while the Beastmen seemed in endless supply. Blessedly the Beastmen never mounted determined, coordinated attacks, and it only required mounting a quick defense and inflicting a few casualties to drive a band away. The worst part was there was always another band hiding just over the next clump of boulders or skulking in the next dry gulch. [Early on, near the mountains it was larger (40-50 warriors) bands of Skaerlings. In the flats it was smaller (less than 30 warriors) bands of Dreset and Darug; but instead of a rapid spate of attacks every two or three days, it was every day, at least one and as many as three different bands.] Each attack by the Darug or Dreset was preceded by hours of pestering, probing, and missile attacks. The soldiers had to go out to meet them to keep them out of missile range, but couldn’t commit to an attack and pursuit for fear that there might be another band (or even another mob from the same band if they had enough warriors and a clever chieftain). So while casualties mounted, deaths were rare.

Soon, deaths from thirst began to look, not only likely, but inevitable, and the people had only the Kel’s word that the Beastlands ended at the river 90-100 leagues from the foothills. A few began talking about turning back; they reasoned that the mountains had seemed fertile enough, and with the damage inflicted on the bands, the journey would be safer.

As the people began making camp one night, the debate reached a crisis point. The faction wishing to return grew strong enough to force an open vote which was to be held the next morning.

That night a young woman overheard Lord Weslonn speaking to the sky, apparently hoping to catch the attention of the lost gods written of in the old texts. As she readied her bedroll she knelt upon the ground and offered up a sincere prayer to any god that valued honor and virtue, offering a lifetime of service in exchange for aid in Lord Welsonn’s quest.

As she slept, she had a vision of a tall woman of great beauty dressed in archaic armor intricately inlaid with gleaming silver. Her eyes were deep with wisdom and her body was suffused with a clear bright light.

“I am Rhynn,” she said in a rich, golden voice “I come as herald for the caretakers of the land you seek. Our own children are dead or scattered far from our domain. The land is empty and we yearn for children with which to share our wisdom, and for whom the land can flower; even if they are children of adoption.”

“I accept your offer of service in the spirit of reverence in which it was made.” She stepped forward and laid her hands on the young woman’s head, passing on a portion of her power and making Cassina the first priestess of Rhynn in more than 600 years. Then she proceeded to instruct the young priestess in her ritual duties and the proper use of her new powers (these lessons would continue for years). Finally, just before she woke, Cassina was shown the way to extract water from the groves of ironwood trees which were so plentiful along their line of march. The added water was meager and difficult to collect, but it was enough. Only a few of the most ill and of the most grievously wounded were lost before the people reached the banks of the Carilorn River.

At the rivers edge, the people drank their fill and sang praises to the goddess Rhynn. They listened eagerly as the lady Cassina spoke of the clan of Luminaten she represented (led by her father Shawhelan, and her mother Urehn).

Before they crossed the river into their new homeland, Lord Weslonn devised two oaths: one for himself and the captains, to rule their people with honor, enacting laws in keeping with the values in the Book and the dictates of their new gods; the other for all the people: to put out of their minds any thoughts of the Before Kingdoms, to never speak the names of those who stayed behind, or the names of the lands of the Before Kingdoms; or the names of their gods or teachings.

INFO ON REPTILLIAN CREATURES: KOBOLDS, DRAGON LORDS, ETC.

Dragons live extremely long lives, 1000 years or more. There are undoubtedly dragons alive now who remember the Age of War. They possess a keen intelligence, coupled in youth with a burning curiosity, and in maturity with great wisdom. Dragons are very emotional. They experience the same range of emotions as Elves and Men, but each one is felt more keenly, even explosively sometimes. The emotions most associated with dragons in the minds of men are their pride, which runs all too easily into arrogance in many; and their towering rage, of which legends are written. But they experience other emotions to the same degree: love and hate, joy and despair. This emotional nature often overrides their intellects, a fact for which those who have had dealings with dragons often find themselves thankful.

There are four major types of dragons corresponding to the four fundamental elements of the universe. Dragons have an innate mastery of elemental magic and a talent for the intricacies of wizardry. They also are adept at summoning magic and are said to have knowledge of rituals for controlling demons of the Outer Void.

Dragons' personalities and ethics cover the entire spectrum. From happy, bubbly, and joyful, to grim, brooding and pessimistic; from saintly patience to seething with anger; from paragons of virtue to the vilest evil.

My computer is suffering from South American tech support, so I wasn't able to finish the answers. I'll be working at it til game time, however.

I understand that you guys, in general, found my game's pace to be slow and boring. I'll admit that the game wasn't going quite as quickly as I would have liked either. However, for the first time, I've got a clear picture of what I was doing wrong...or different...or whatever, with this game group.

I won't delve into a long recitation here, suffice it to say that I know what I need to do now to make the game seem more interesting. Hopefully it will give our "Thrilling Climax" some excitement.

Oh, and in case it didn't get around, raise your characters to 4th level.

Glad to hear it. Some action was certainly nice, and getting to use the things on our sheets. And just having things happening.

You were correct when you said we like to have the GM be fairly active in directing things. while we certainly like a bit of control (I watched a GM literally pull a party along using the scenery, which wouldn't fly with most people here) we do like to have the GM shape the plot and have exciting stuff going on.

Last game was fun, and hopefully your (possibly temporary?) finale will be as well.