The stench of foul magic hit my senses before the words reached my ears. Hairs on the back of my neck raise as my suspicions are confirmed. Not wanting to show even an iota of the fear beginning to rise within me, I slowly raise to my full height and face the dark presence in the room.
“And you were always such a promising pupil. Shame to see that the years have not dulled your lust for power, no, only twisted it into something worse.” I say, disappointment in my voice.
The hooded figure in their tattered black robes snarls back, “My ambition has made me more powerful than even you could imagine! And once I have the staff, none shall stand against me and my plans. Especially you! Speaking of which, you did bring the dragon staff as I instructed, yes? Where is it?!”
As an apprentice of mine once long ago, I know what havoc they could bring with such a powerful artifact. It was entrusted to me to safeguard it against any who would abuse its power. I cannot afford to allow it to fall into my old apprentice’s greedy hands, and I’ll fight to ensure it does not. My next move may give me an advantage in the inevitable conflict ahead.
🎲 Ok, so I have a few options. I can assert my dominance with Strength to throw them off, Talk with Charisma to delay the fight and give me more time to prepare, or go for the sucker punch and strike first with Attack. My best bet is to strike first, so sucker punch it is!
That’s an 18 on the die, with a +5 from my Attack, which is actually a +7 thanks to the staff I took earlier, for a 25! Take that! That’ll give a +2 to all damage rolls for the duration of the next combat.
Before the hooded figure finishes speaking, I mutter a word and thrust forth my staff. A bolt of arcane power lances towards my former apprentice and lands a solid blow, sending them stumbling back. Before I have the chance to follow up with another strike, dark power gathers in the hands of the figure, calling forth shades from the beyond to stand against me. The fight has begun.
🎲 COMBAT BEGINS
OK so in this combat I’ll be facing two spirits and the necromancer, which gives me 3 rounds to defeat them before the encounter ends. But first, a peak behind the curtain.
So, I’m sure this will be a shock to y’all, but I’m not perfect. It’s been over a year since I last played this game, and in that time, I’ve figured out that I grossly misinterpreted how the combat works. As many know, I come from a D&D background, so used the traditional definition of a “round”, when in reality Quest Calendars treat them more like turns. So, you actually get one turn or roll for each creature in the encounter, and that’s it. Treating it like traditional RPG combat the way I did definitely made things harder on myself, but what’s passed has passed and I’ll continue with this new understanding going forward. Anyway, on with the encounter!
SPIRIT 1
I got a 13 on the die, +7 to hit, for a 20 total, which is a hit. My damage is a d20, and I rolled a natural 20! +2 damage from my sucker punch earlier for 22 damage total and that spirit is smited!SPIRIT 2
Another 13 on the die so another 20 to hit, and while this spirit is tankier than the first, it’s still more than enough to hit. Oooh that’s only a 6 on the die, BUT with the +2 that’s JUST enough damage to take out the spirit!THE NECROMANCER
Wow, I’m rolling so much better this go around! I got an 18 on the die, +7 to hit for a total of 25, just 2 higher than the necromancer’s Armor. Apparently I’ve banked a year’s worth of good dice luck because that’s ANOTHER 18 on the die for the damage, the +2 to damage from earlier makes it 20, AND I’m going to spend a Spell Point to cast Fireball, increasing the damage by 20, dealing a total of 40 DAMAGE! Godwin the Great indeed! That’s enough to Stun the necromancer, and encounter is over.
With a sharp incantation, my staff glows with an ethereal light as I swing it towards one of the specters, dispelling its ghostly form into a cloud of ectoplasmic mist. The other apparition attempts to rake it’s claws into my back while I’m distracted, but I whirl around to block it’s advance with my still glowing staff. I mutter another word of power, causing the staff to flash with radiant light. The spirit shrieks in pain before dissipating like it’s fallen comrade.
The necromancer stands shocked seeing how easily I dealt with their minions, but before they have the chance to react, I point the end of my staff at them and shout, “I am Godwin the Great, council to rulers and defender of this realm for the last millennium, and I will not fall to the likes of you! INFERNIUM!”
A lance of incandescent red energy is sent down range toward the snarling necromancer. A flicker of sickly green energy appears between us as a shield before the whole cavern erupts in a storm of flame. The room thunders with the roar rushing fire and shakes as if struck by a giant’s hammer, chunks of rock and debris sent flying in all directions.
As the firestorm subsides, I slump to the floor of the cavern, using my staff to support me and breathing heavily. I’m not the young man I once was, and using that much power all at once has taken its toll. But as I kneel, winded and weary before the crackling pyre, a dark shape appears amidst the flame. My eyes grow wide in horror. Nothing could have survived that blast, but it seems my old apprentice is much stronger than I realized. With the knowledge they hold, the world is not safe…
The necromancer lets out a raspy cackle as they now stand above me. “You should have brought me the Dragon Staff, old man! I might have let you live. No matter. I will find it just as I discovered your secret and found this Dragon Temple. I do wish you were around to see my genius and what I will do with it.”
The camera fades to black, and we find ourselves back in the tavern where several other figures have gathered at our table, enraptured by the bard’s tale. The bard gives a wry smile and says, “And to this day, Godwin the Great hasn’t been heard from again. Adventurers who have gone looking for him, or the staff, either come back with nothing, or never come back at all. But that’s just what I’ve heard.” The bard gives a wink, takes his tankard of ale, and wanders off to spread more wondrous stories to any who would listen.
The Foundry 
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