EPTlvl6 Unarmed Swordsage, semi-Homebrew variant, Chaotic Neutral, Eberron
After accepting (actually mortally obligated) a quest to steal an ancient artifact from the Goblin tribes, we board a train heading southwards. My party consists of me, a cleric (who, unbeknownst to the rest of the party, is now Chaotic Evil due to last session's to-good-to-be-true loot), a Duskblade, and a useless Bard who spends more time seducing women than helping. Our goblin scout, due to loyalty to his kind, has abandoned us and left to warn and defend his homeland before us. Our Paladin refused to partake in a robbery, and under the aegis of the Silver Flame had no need to join us. (In reality he couldn't join us this week irl, so we wrote him out.)
As the train leaves the station, our Bard immediately goes off to find a fling. Meanwhile our Cleric also disappears (to steal luggage, or throw it off the train if its not worth anything). A few minutes later, our Bard returns with a rather unintelligent female gnome. Since we were poor and could not afford first class, there is no place for the two of them to.... uh.... converse. So, clever as he is, our Bard jumps into an enchanted Bag of Holding which he recently acquired, which like our cleric's new necklace, is also cursed.
So upon hearing screams, I jump into the Bag myself, only to face a giant black blob slowly digesting our Bard alive. My fists and kicks do minimal damage for a number of turns; I watch as the hapless gnome-lady dissolves before me. Luckily I manage to defeat the blob right as the bard reached -6 hp. I stabilized and dragged his unconscious body out of the Bag of Holding. As I do this, our Duskblade walks back into the room, and I ask, "where the fuck were you?"
"Eating," he says calmly. "What happened to him?"
"Where's our Cleric?"
In walks our Cleric, staggering with the weight of clothes, jewelry, etc he has stolen from the luggage room. He throws them down with an exultant "whooo!" He smiles and looks around the room, then down at our now nude, acid-covered bard. "What happened to him?"
"Where did you go? Where did you get all this?"
"A gift from the Gods, for they knew our Bard was nude and required clothing. They knew our Swordsage was bicurious and demanded fancy dresses and ribbons. They forgot not, the flourishing ways of our duskblade either, and for you I have received some bacon and sausage, straight from the heavens, for the Gods they are wise, and the Gods gift us righteously!"
Our Bard asks to be healed.
The cleric kicks him, "You interrupted my monologue!"
Suddenly the train lurches backwards, and the sounds of wings flapping fill the air around the slowly quieting train. The train is slowing. Black feathers are seen outside our windows, and shrieks are heard as the sounds of heavy hoofs landing upon the train are heard. Glass shatters, and the robbers enter our cabin.
Aside: Someone searches Youtube for The Great Train Robbery to provide adequate mood-setting musical accompaniment.
Our Duskblade throws fireballs into every direction, and I throw dagger-clad brutes out of windows. In the midst of battle we notice our Cleric clapping, then casting healing magic upon our foes. We have caught on, and pounce upon him. We rip off the necklace, but to our dismay, our cleric's disposition has not changed. I quickly knock him unconscious and decide to deal with his affliction at a later point.
My one remaining party member and I rush through the train, blasting through each and every lowly lackey senseless enough to stand up to us. Many of them run off with the few belongings they had already taken. There is nothing we can do about it. The train has begun moving once again, but at clearly unsafespeeds. Duskblade and I rush towards the Engine Car.
We enter the dimly lit room silently. A dark slim figure turns around regardless of our impressive Move Silently rolls, and catches us off guard. Our DM informs us that the NPC will now take 4 full round actions; casting Slow, casting Quicken, Disarming the Duskblade from afar with a polearm, and dealing a relatively massive 36 damage to the previously untouched Duskblade. We roll for initiative. Me: 7 , Duskblade: 19, Mr. wtf-4-full-round-actions?: 18
With his one standard action, Duskblade casts dispel magic from a wand. Mr. Wtf offs him with a power strike despite losing his Haste. I debate whether I should use my turn to teleport in front of the moving train.
I enter Shadow stance, and hide in the shadows of the Engine Room. The enemy casts an aoe sonic blast, but I have luckily moved out of range. I move behind him, using the benefit of my shroud to pass through ridiculous Attacks of Opportunity that a pole-arm grants. The enemy casts Blinding light across the room, but little does he know I am standing behind him. I say, "Assassin's Stance, +2d6 sneak bonus, Stone Dragon Bonecrusher, +3d6, Fort Save DC15, Stunning Fist, Fort Save 16. Then, I roll.
The attack roll totals 24. I look at the DM. He looks down and rolls some dice. He looks back at me and says, "Nothing hits." I groan audibly, and take 27 fireball damage to the face, sending me careening towards the wall, dazed. A pole-arm comes at me as I quickly regain my senses. Reflex save. "Thought Before Action," I reply and roll a Concentration check instead. I escape the deathly jab, but have no way of getting up close to the enemy without dying. I attempt to disarm, and succeed, somehow, miraculously.
I have no idea how to use weapons of any kind, so I open a window and throw the extra-large stick outside. The train is now traveling at a dizzying speed through lonely plains. The enemy, smiling, has put on leather gloves. He grins widely, "A fist fighter, eh? How about a fair fight?"
He runs forward, and I take 8 damage from his blows. I am now nearly dead, and have yet to even touch my adversary. Trip check, I succeed. It seems weapons and magic were this characters strong suit; hand to hand combat, not. Too much confidence on his part, and a whisper of wind, a slight gleam of hope blew my way.
Devastating Throw. I roll 14, but it's good enough. My enemy, still at full health, is hurled out the window of the moving train. I relax in my chair, the DM closes his book, my friends congratulate me, and I breathe outwards, slowly. Sometime later, that enemy will return with a vengeance, but for now, I feel like a boss.
Also, shameless brag;
![[image loading]](http://i.imgur.com/vFlLg.jpg)
