This was the largest encounter I’ve ever run, and what an experience it was! I learned as much from this one fight as I have from months of adventure prep and minor encounters.
We’re a very casual table, just me, my partner, my step-son and a friend, running short (~90 minutes) sessions every week or two. We’re progressing slowly, and levelling up even more slowly. I decided early on, due to the material I’ve, uh, stolen my ideas from, that level progression would be locked to McGuffin acquisition, but speed with which the party is actually getting their hands on these objects is much slower than I had initially expected.
We’ve settled into a tick-tock adventure cadence, then, with mid-level power-ups being added via gold and item injections into keep everyone happy. Which is all to say, when the players level up, it’s a big deal, and I’ve taken to giving them something worthy of their new powers to cut their teeth on.
This time, we’d been running the Forge of Fury, which I converted as we went.
Consider this a spoiler warning for this 25 year old module!
Hiding in the third section of the dungeon – known as the Foundry – was the party’s second McGuffin, and after some unexpectedly friendly interactions with a group of Hryngars (nee Duergars), a frightening from an Allip, and a really awkward discussion with a crypto-succubus, they managed to find their level-up trinket.
The original adventure hook for the module was to go searching for some ancient +1 weapons, or some such, but that seemed like some pretty weak sauce. The intent was also for players to delve too deep and encounter Nightwing, the black dragon and its hoard of gold, but I’d sent the players in there looking for an NPC and a McGuffin, and have a setting where dragons are very rare, and where at least some of the enemies are (unbeknowst to the players) trying to resurrect a dragon, so just throwing one at the players early in the campaign would be kind of undermining.
So I threw zombies at them, instead. A lot of zombies.
Forge of Fury has a Xulgath (nee Troglodyte) den on the second level, and that is where I stuffed the NPC they were trying to find/rescue. Unfortunately, the party bypassed the den, and took the outer route around the outskirts of the dungeon. This meant that the amped up Drow Sorceress/Necromancer I had following them had some bodies she could unalive and then un-unalive.
Not exactly RAW, of course, since it takes a full day to use the Create Undead ritual for a single target, but the players don’t know this, and what they don’t know can’t hurt them. Besides, Summon Undead is a Rank 1 spell. *shrug*
The players return to the main hall, new power-up in hand, to discover the troop of friendly Duergars fighting a large wave of shambling Troglodytes (a Level 4 Shambling Troop).
It’s at this point that I hand them the stat blocks for the Duergars and a list of names that they will be playing. Each of them got 2 Duergars Sharpshooters and a Duergar specialist of some type to play, which I expected them to use as cannon fodder.
Each round, I unleashed new creatures onto the battle field. First, it was spiders (four Hunting Spiders and a Huge Spider Swarm), then it was the missing NPC’s party (2 human Zombie Shamblers), then it was the Xulgath leader and an Orc captive (2 Zombie Brutes). Some skeletal warriors and a Ragewight followed this, before themselves being followed by the boss: A custom built undead anti-paladin, representing the NPC they failed to save.
The battle was chaos, in the best way. Even with this giant roster of enemies, the players got a turn every couple of enemies, and my partner seemed really into the idea of running multiple creatures, and letting the dice determine their personalities.
This was also the encounter where I decided to say “ok, fuck it” more often. As we’ve played, I’ve been increasingly convinced that PF2 not just works as a fiction-first game, but plays better that way. I’ve lacked the confidence to truly give in to this idea at the table though. But with three other characters at her fingertips, all of them martials, my partner started mulling over her character sheet less, and just… dropped her knees into the boss’s back. The NPC was tied up at this point, and prone, thanks to a critically successful bola attack, so there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about this. I thought about it for a second and decided that it sounded like an unarmed strike to me. But it also sounded like she was now on top of the guy. Like, that’s what happens when you drive your knees into a prone person’s back, right? So, I threw caution to the wind, let the fiction take over, and told her “you’re now sitting on top of him”.
The light in her eyes at hearing that was magical.
On his turn the NPC shook her off, broke his bonds, and got to his feet. The battle resumed, but something had changed. The players now understood that they had permission to try things, and I had confidence that I could decide whether what they were trying made sense, and, importantly, what potential outcomes made sense.
The fight ended a couple of rounds later, the boss disarmed (they thought to kick his sword away) and once more knocked to the ground. The party’s Guardian did a Smash Bros. style leaping downward strike with his sword, pinning him in place, while two enlarged Duergars stomped a mudhole in him. After four sessions, and nine rounds of combat, the battle was won, and the module was complete.
And my table finally started seeing the game through their characters’ eyes, as a world where they can try to get away with anything.
