Meatheads Play Report 1

 Meatheads Play Report 1, DM notes at bottom.

– Meatheads is a hack of OD&D; a fighter only playstyle with additional XP gained through feats of strength. –

The northern sea churns it gray, cold waters in the early morning. Mists envelope the wet granite cliffs, pouring along the stone hills and peat fields just beyond the shore’s lips. A bitter wind blows south, pushing a vessel towards a village along the coast, Killnerd. The vessel’s scarred underbelly bobs in the bay, its lifeboat’s bringing to the village docks domestic items and trade goods to journey southwards to the mountain lands.

Discharged from this vessel, The Burning Stream, where a number of crewmates who, having finished their term of service, were allotted enough silver to spend the night at the village inn or hitch a carriage south. Only two remained in Killnerd: Maxima, a muscle bound woman with awe inspiring legs and Winslow, a grizzled, barrel-chested dwarf of good nature and hardy stock. Aboard The Burning Stream they hauled cargo across the frigid waters evading the Toothed Passage of J’ukilt all the while skirmishing with the rat-pirates of Yunk Rock. These two meatheads grew weary of labor, and having heard rumors of goblins stalking the slopes of an ancient hobbit burial mound nearby and made a pact with one another to become dungeoneers.

Maxima and Winslow wasted no time; they immediately sought out a heavy thing to lift. Asking around town, they were pointed to the Higgin’s farm where they met with Dundalk and his son Spynt, a strong hobbit lad nearly the size of dwarf. They then become acquainted with Brownie, the largest pig in Killnerd. Both meatheads boasted against one another yet both were able to lift Brownie clear over their heads, astonishing and amusing the villagers around them.

Pigs are very important to my work.

Dundalk Higgin’s offered work at his peat farm for 2 gp a week, but turned down. In the village square was a lively discussion between the hobbit dockmaster and a sumptuous looking dwarf. Winslow spoke friend to this fellow dwarf who introduced himself as Ardmoc Underbust, a broker on behalf of House Drippindhaal of the Southern Mountains, a rich dwarven house known for its emeralds. Ardmoc spoke to the meatheads in the confines of his own storehouse where his associates tidied their stocks of trade goods and weaponry.

Ardmoc informed the meatheads that - unknown to the hobbits of this village - eleven of his hirelings had snuck into the Sea Hill Tomb to prospect for gems or metals. Mr. Underbust ordered this expedition 5 days ago which was expected to return last night. Mr. Underbust offered a salary of 20 gp a week to explore the Sea Hill Tomb for these missing dwarves. Whatever additional treasures they pull from its gullet Mr. Underbust would like to purchase, boasting his coffers ran deeper than the hobbits’. 

Having secured a steady gig and gifted some dwarven armaments, the meatheads trekked to the Sea Hill Tomb. Hiking up the coastal hill took 2 hours from leaving the village square to arriving at the summit. Along the stony path they spied the few remaining cairns that rose along the slopes. Many appear to have been toppled, their contents rooted around, whatever body laid there having been taken. 

While in town, the hobbits of the Killnerd informed how the ancient hill tomb was once a barrow to the hobbits who lived along these coasts centuries ago, but the barrow burials were abandoned in favor of cairn construction along the slopes. Yet even this method fell out of fashion, as hobbits of Killnerd began to move away from burials nearby the hill all together, instead opting for cremation along the cliffs. The ancient burial mound over time has had a shadow of suspicion cast upon it, the hobbits of Killnerd now proclaim it is an “unlucky” place. Hounds are kept at every household and farm, barking into the night at odd hours, feeling something's gaze from the slopes and behind stones. 

Reaching the summit our party found the tomb's entrance. No great marker or earthen gate, they found instead a cut into the stone. Shaped like the puncture wound of a spear, the opening drank the sea air greedily into its depths, the stone hill suckled wind like a swollen leech. 

Maxima and Winslow threw a lit torch 20 feet below, then descended into the pit, its opening wide enough for an armored person to pass through. Picking up their torch, they found themselves in a chamber of spiral designs carved into the stone walls, with depictions of sea hobbit life long ago: fishermen, coral divers, shellfish farmers, weavers and dyers working with joy and care for their craft. Only a clumsy stone archway opened southwards into a cross section hall.

With his cunning dwarf eyes, Winslow noticed a strange piece of stone among the carvings. A convex stone with two finger sized holes on its face along the north side wall. Naturally, he stuck his fingers into the stone, and turned it 45 degrees right, heard a click, then 180 degrees left, heard another click, and returned 45 degrees to the original, 12 o’clock position. This caused a secret passageway to open a lonely chamber with passages leading to the west and east along with a pit in the room’s center.

The party positioned themselves in the western hallway. Maxima approached the pit, sticking her torch into its depths. The light of the torch passed through a translucent carapace, soft pink and green organs quivered and pumped behind 8 black orbs made silvery by the torchlight. The party dropped their flame by surprise, and slithering with great speed, the giant translucent spider darted towards the northeast corner of the chamber, its long ghostly limbs outstretched, black claws at each end. Dagger sized fangs glinting in the torchlight, slathered in some foul secretion, it stood with a threatening display ready but hesitant to risk life in skirmish. Winslow made efforts to commune with the spider, familiar in their ways and mannerisms, but a spitty hiss was all of the spider’s reply. A spear was jabbed the spider’s way, its mood grew fouler, and it made its advance.

We love a big spider, don't we folks?

Shielded by Winslow, Maxima battled with the spider from the rear with the reach of her spear. This two person shield wall fit snuggly along the narrow hobbit corridors, as Winslow batted off the flailing spider with his shield, Maxima stabbed at the creature, finding hits at the softer joints under its thorax. Back into its foul hole they shoved it, hissing and thrashing until it curled up in death. Their lit torch still within its pit, the meatheads saw the spider’s lair held a smattering of coins and 4 clutches of eggs. With them they took the webs of the slain spider as well, rolling them into a bolt of web “fabric”. 

From this spider chamber they headed east and arrived in a grander room, its high arched ceiling slightly cracked as slivers of noon sunlight pierced through the dark chamber to illuminate a stone slab altar set up on a 5 foot raised stone-stacked platform. Upon the altar the party could see something but it was not clear. A passage to the south led to a hallway going east to west, while on the other side of the room, obscured by the platform, our party discovered an old oak and iron door that, despite being able to turn its handle, would not budge open.

Atop the stone platform our meatheads stepped, seeing before them some stacks of gold and silver coins surrounding and an ancient blade. The metal of this short and narrow sword has turned greenish brown, most likely made of bronze from long ago. Its hilt made from opaque gemstones and bronze intertwined into a shape of an oak, its curling branches the hand guard. In the hands of a hobbit it might have been a longsword, but in the hands of a tall-folk it is little more than a shortsword.

Pocketing these treasures, the party turned towards the southern passage to hear the chanting of a goblin parade. Ducking behind the cover of the stone platform, the meatheads evaded the eyes of the goblins. The jovial band of nasty freaks gazed into the chamber briefly and having spotted that the sword was gone from the altar, began to snicker and spit. They continued their merry making down the hallway further west, squealing with glee. The meatheads decided it best to leave the old hobbit blade atop the altar, for fear of it being cursed, and exited the dungeon. Atop the sea hill’s summit, a salty noon breeze cooled their skin, their hands clutching the first drop treasure they would recover.

Thoughts as DM

As with any session I’m incredibly nervous up to the very few minutes right before the session begins. Soon the nerves settle and it's all very familiar. Same game, same game.

Killnerd is a small coastal village of 62 people, 42 hobbits, 11 dwarves, 2 elves and 4 humans. Each citizen is named and organized into social circles. This is not something required from the adventure, I simply wanted to chart the village in this manner. Killnerd’s economy is small, dealing mostly in peat and fishing, but acts as an outpost for the trade routes of the northern sea cities to the kingdoms southwards.

There was a moment of the 3.5/PF brain during play that I’m slightly embarrassed about. As Winslow met Ardmoc Underbust, the player asked if he would recognize the dwarven family herald. I asked the player to roll an INT test, and immediately after I said so thought to myself “why?”. The player passed regardless, and rather than explain or apologize I moved right along. What can you do sometimes?

What can we expect from Meatheads? The rules are simple: fighter only characters while having an additional potential for XP gained through feats of strength (lifting, pulling, pushing, grappling, or throwing heavy-ass objects etc). This is a simple addition to the rules, but I think (and hope) that it will deform OD&D. Before play began, the first character death occurred. A player’s character died during creation, having opted to test their Strength in hopes of more gains. These were lofty goals, but they were unfortunately crushed.

Why am I making meatheads? A manic, short-term obsession most likely, but I am finding that it is a generally good way to practice OD&D and dungeon design. It hasn’t quite taken shape yet, I will let you know when I think it has.