Archive for the ‘Everyday D&D’ Category

Holy Dyvers

Sunday, August 2nd, 2020

After spending three nights getting re-supplied in Greyhawk, we hopped back on our well-worn saddles and made the overnight trip to Dyvers. In case you don’t know, and I really didn’t until I went through its large gates, is that Dyvers is pretty damn rich. They are at a nexus of several trade routes, and there is decent Nyr Dyv access. But I doubt anyone is reading this travel journal for economic policy history.

Know what rich places have in abundance? Rich people. I probably saw a half-score of those human/demi-human/humanoid chariot things, where someone is carried around by six or eight folks that have 15 or greater strength. I don’t even know what one of those things is called, but I know enough to know that it costs more than I make in a typical adventure just to keep one of those going.

Another thing rich places have are places to eat. Want to eat carp from the Azure Sea served to you by a wood elf? You can do it. Want a big hunk of reindeer meat? Well, head down to the Barbarian Bar-B-Q and prepare to eat. Plants more your thing? One of the street markets we walked by had six types of halfling radish.

Another thing rich places are is expensive. Do not go to Dyvers if you have to worry about money. The meals I talked about above all ran well over 5 gps per person, plus merry juice is expensive. Dyvers is orderly, so don’t think you can pull a fast one here. But if you have the money, Dyvers offers a lot for the tasteful adventurer.

  • Why did we go there? It was close, and I hadn’t really explored it.
  • What is there that is interesting? Lots of rich people, lots of restaurants and taverns, expensive stuff.
  • Would we go again? You bet. If price doesn’t matter, there are a lot of good places to rest one’s weary head, get a filling meal, and relax in a safe, orderly, prosperous city.

Up next: Getting gnarly in the Gnarly Forest.

The Caves of Milk

Thursday, July 30th, 2020

Our first stop on the seeing it all world tour–we are still working on the title–are the ambiguously named Caves of Milk. Located roughly two days ride from Greyhawk in the Cairn Hills, these caves are filled with a milky, mineral water that does have a passing resemblance to cow milk.

We were escorted to mouth of the cave complex by Trsou Milgret, an entrepreneurial resident of the area. He charges 5 s.p. for an escort to mouth of the caves, some local bread and cheese for the exploration, and a promise of letting our next of kin know if we didn’t come back out.

The caves and the milky water within were far more elaborate than anyone in our party expected. We must have marched at least 6 or 7 rounds through one cavern alone; the whole time, a windy stream of opaque liquid tinkling alongside of us. Trsou told us about how the gray ooze in these caves are often pink or blue colored from all the minerals, but we either didn’t see them or weren’t looking hard enough for ooze. And frankly, why would we?

As I mentioned at the start of this travel narrative, we were going to answer three questions about every place we visited:

  • Why did we go there? It was close, it seemed fun, it was relatively safe, and it was cheap.
  • What is there that is interesting? The milky river was rad and the caves were certainly big.
  • Would we go again? If I were looking to kill a grey ooze or two, probably. If I had never been there before, certainly: it is pretty close to Greyhawk and makes an easy weekend vacation. But again? Once is enough.

Up next: Dyvers

Voyage to Ensgrab

Sunday, July 12th, 2020

As part of a continuing travel series, Perverse Osmosis will hit the literal trail, walking and riding across the wide world of Greyhawk. Yup, we are going to see it all: the blue seas of Jerela Bay; the snow-peaked mountains of the South Yatil range; the open tunda of Stonefist. Granted, we are not guaranteed access to all these places. I don’t think there will be a whole host of monks waving us through the border of the Scarlet Brotherhood. But that is what makes it an adventure.

To keep our reviews somewhat consistent, we will use a common set of criteria.

  • Why did we go there?
  • What is there that is interesting?
  • Would we go again?

Obviously, there will be a fair amount of expansion about each of these criterion, but there may be a place that is so dull that it gets a “bad advice,” followed by a “nothing,” followed by a “no.” If we are going to take risks as adventurers, readers should have to take some too.

Thank You, fair Baervan Wildwanderer

Thursday, July 9th, 2020

I haven’t paid a lot of attention to the Gnomish pantheon, and for that, I blame myself. Take, for example, Baervan Wildwanderer. He has a few things going for him:

  • He is neutral good, one of the best kind of good.
  • He hangs out in The Golden Hills, which sounds quite fancy, especially for a gnome.
  • One of his nicknames is “the father of fish and fungus.”
  • Part of his motto is “Be ever curious,” which, as an adventurer, I strongly support.
  • Most importantly, he has a giant raccoon named Chiktikka Fastpaws as a companion. That is one trash panda that no one wants to tangle with.
  • Only drawback to ol’ Wildwanderer: his clerics have to sacrifice treasure to him monthly. I mean, I’ll never be a cleric, but that must stink to see the 50 gps you got for hacking up those bugbears become a sacrifice.
  • New Year

    Tuesday, January 1st, 2019

    All’s been quiet on the Greyhawk front recently, thanks to some Prime Material plane bloopers [I found myself being chief seer in three classes at one point, despite being less than proficient in any of the requested domains]. But that concern seems to have settled down, so we can get back to reviewing the modules and writing idiotic songs about all the monsters you can’t kill.

    Incredible punk-before-punk from New Zealand.