The Deathly Hallows: Game Day

My third annual Halloween Heroscape Event went great! We had a few last minute cancellations, but it all worked out fine in the end. We still had a 10-player, 2 team game going on. It was great!
It started with my wife, Michelle, making some great snacks. As there was a significant Zombie theme to this year's game, we decided to make some Finger Sandwiches as snacks for the game.

 Don't they look delicious?

You take bread slices, cut the crusts off, then spread peanut butter or cream cheese on them. Then you roll them up, take a fork or something to put creases in where the knuckles should be. Put a dab of peanut butter or cream cheese (whichever you're using) on the end to attach to almond slice for the fingernail. Then, to top it off, you dip the other end in strawberry jelly giving the Finger Sandwich as nice, bloody, severed look. Top that off with some bloody punch (orange juice, gingerale, and some kind of frozen cranberry juice ice cubes with cherries in them with a red glaze around the rim of the cup), and you've got the makings of a good Halloween snack.

One of the players also brought a veggie tray, complete with a puking pumpkin that spewed out veggie dip onto the plate.  Yumm...

The game began with a fair amount of chaos, but what do you expect when you have ten people from an 8-year-old boy to a recently retired woman, playing 5, one-on-one Heroscape games simultaneously in close quarters around a 4'x8' table.  It was a beautifully chaotic start!

As the Mortal army, led by Solomon Rayne sought out the Deathly Hallow, they released many unpleasant and formidable enemies.  Jason, for instance, after revealing a glyph, unleashed the great undead Valkrill bone dragon Rotscale on his small band of Eladrin and Eltahale.

In the end, Solomon Rayne, his brother Alastor, and all the Warriors of Annwyn were killed, but a brave Tandros Kreel, with the help of a single, fully experienced, Tagawa Samurai, who had come to Rayne's aid too late, discovered the Deathly Hallow.  Faced with Sorrowsworn the Kyrie Warrior and the Shadowfell Overlord, Nerull, Kreel, too, was killed before he could escape the graveyard. 

His companion Samurai, however, was able to overcome the two Heroes of the Shadowfell, and clear the path for another Hero, Erioliende (a new custom Eladrin darkmage, and one of my personal favorites), after fending off a horde of Zombies of Morindan with high ground and her superior melee fighting skills, to retreive the Hallow and escape the graveyard of Grim's Hollow alive (though she was half dead with a life of 6 on her army card and 3 wound markers) along with another teammate's Morgrimm Forgehammer (who was also half dead) - the only two figures to survive the battle.

Despite heavy losses, the Mortal army managed to achieve their objective, removing the Deathly Hallow from the graveyard and thwarting the Shadowfell's attempts to open a doorway to the mortal realm through it. 

Congratulations to all on a game, well-played, and another successful Halloween Heroscape event!!

The Deathly Hallows: Grim's Hollow

Blogger's Note: Here's the fourth and final episode of "The Deathly Hallows".  See you all tomorrow as we finish the story out on the battlefield.  Enjoy.

        “It’s kind of fitting when you think about it,” said Alastor.

        “What is?” Solomon replied as he pulled the laces of the gauntlet on his left arm tight.

        The two brothers were a short distance ahead of the column, marching up the narrow, winding trail.  Though the sun had risen nearly two hours prior, all was dark there.  In addition to the shadow of the mountain and the canopy of trees, there was an unnatural darkness sifting through the woods.  The trees on either side of the path were old and gnarled.  Their branches were crooked and dark.

        A thin, pale blue fog crept slowly down the mountain through the old forest.

        “You’re little hunting party, I mean,” Alastor explained.  “Humans, elves, dwarves…   It took an alliance of all three races to defeat the Shadowfell a thousand years ago, and here we are trying to do it all over again.” 

        “Never really thought about it, I guess,” said Solomon.

        “Even got a wizard or two, but…”   Alastor glanced backward.

        “But what?” Solomon replied as he began pulling the laces on his other gauntlet.

        “Dragons, Solomon?”

        “They could be useful.  Dragons are powerful creatures, even the forces of the Shadowfell fear the might of dragons.  Besides they’re just wyrmlings, and that dragonborn paladin says he can keep them under control.”

        “Still, I think we’d be better off leaving them behind.”

        Solomon stopped walking as he finished tying up the laces of his gauntlet.  Alastor stopped, too.

        “Let’s be clear about something, Alastor,” Solomon said.  “All the way up here you’ve been pestering me about my plan, about the people I’ve brought with me.  Enough.”

        “You may be my older brother, and I may not be able to stop you from coming up here with me, but this is my task.  This is my hunting party,” he said pointing back at the column following them, who by this time had also stopped, and were listening to Solomon.

         “I am in charge here, and I say who goes where and who does what.  And if I say that the dragons will be useful, then they will be.  And if I say that the wizards come, then they come, understand?”

        Alastor said nothing.

        “This isn’t my first dance with the forces of the Shadowfell, Alastor, and I’ve done it all without your help.  I know what I’m doing.”

        Solomon turned and started walking up the path again.  Alastor stood silently, watching Solomon walk away.  The rest of the hunting party began walking again, too, passing Alastor.  Some kept their heads down or looking forward as they passed him.  Others smirked at him as they passed.

        When the warriors of Annwyn, near the rear of the column, got close to him, Alastor said, “Yes, sir,” and joined back in the column with them.

        After awhile, the trees began to thin, and a large open space appeared before them.  As he entered the clearing, Solomon held up his hand indicating to the party to stop at the entrance to the clearing.  They stopped as Solomon stepped slowly and carefully, scanning the tree line around him, carefully studying the broken, vine covered walls that erupted from the ground in several places, then staring at the far side of the clearing at a rock wall that rose nearly forty feet above the level of the clearing.  The thin, pale blue fog, seemed to be coming from a small crack in the rock face that extended all the way to the top of the cliff.

        “What’s he doing?” one of the warriors of Annwyn asked Alastor.

        “He’s checking the clearing for traps,” Alastor replied.

        “What kind of traps?”

        “You don’t want to know.”

        “Oh,” said the warrior.

        After a few more moments, Solomon turned around and headed back to the group.  When he returned, he gathered the group around him, and whispered, “Okay.  You’re about to enter the ruins of an old village.  We call it Grim’s Hollow, because it belongs to the dead, now, and the dead keep it.  If you don’t want to join them, watch your step, and keep your eyes open.”

        “The cemetery’s on the far side, through that crack in the rock.  That’s where we’re headed.”

        “Stay close,” he said, then turned his back to them and started moving slowly back into the clearing, his axe held at the ready in one hand and his crossbow in the other.

        The ground of the clearing was uneven and rocky as the group walked slowly over the ruins of stone houses, overgrown with grasses and vines.  Several times, Solomon stopped the group and studied the ground ahead of them.  Occasionally, he would lead them to the left or to the right rather than proceeding straight toward to the crack in the rock.

        When the group had finally reached the far side of the clearing and stood at the narrow crack in the high rock face, Solomon stood alone at the center of the narrow passage up to the cemetery.  Alastor walked up and stood beside him as the others watched and waited.

        After a few moments, Solomon said quietly, “We’re trapped.”

        “What do you mean?” Alastor whispered back.

        “I mean those ruins are full of undead.  Even avoiding the worst places, we should have been attacked when we crossed.”  He paused for a moment then finished, “They let us in.”

        Alastor looked back toward the clearing.  “Trapped,” he said.

        “Yes,” Solomon replied.  “Time is short.  Our only hope is to find the Deathly Hallow.  The Shadowfell may have found a way to use its power, but it’s a terrible omen to the undead, and they fear it.”

        “It may be possible to escape,” Solomon turned to look at his brother, “but only with the Hallow.  If we don’t find it…and soon…we’ll all die here.”  Solomon and Alastor turned back to look at the anxious group of Hallow hunters assembled behind them.

        “Then let’s find it, and get off this God-forsaken mountain together,” Alastor slapped Solomon on the shoulder, “Brother, sir.” 

        Alastor smiled at him.

        Solomon smiled back.

To be continued on the battlefield...



Blogger's Note: Here is a picture of the old cemetery at Grim's Hollow board that we'll be playing on tomorrow.  There are five burial areas in the cemetery.  The Deathly Hallow willbe found in one of them.  Happy hunting!

The Deathly Hallows: Homecoming

Blogger's Note: Here's episode three of "The Deathly Hallows".  Log on next Friday for a final bonus episode just prior to Saturday's game.

       Solomon Rayne stood outside the door of a cottage.

        Outside the cottage, twilight was lingering.  Clouds covered the darkening sky, leaving only a pale, bluish gray light filtering down on the village of Annwyn, and even the pale light was beginning to fail.  Though his cloak was thick and warm, the evening breeze was cool on Solomon’s face. 

        Inside the cottage, candlelight flickered.  The sounds of conversation spilled out of the nearby window.  He stood quietly at the door, listening to the voices for some time.

        “What are we doing here?” a voice whispered from behind Solomon.

        “I’m waiting,” Solomon replied.

        “Waiting for what?”

        “For the right moment,” Solomon’s voice trailed off.  “Take the others down the street to the inn, and settle in for the night.  Get some rest.  We’ll stay in the village, at least for tonight.”

        “But the wizard said…”

        “Quiet!” Solomon’s whisper interrupted her.  He listened carefully toward the window.  The voices from inside the cottage continued conversing.  Convinced that no one inside had detected their presence, he turned back to his companion. 

        “Now, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once.  I don’t work for anyone.  Least of all, a wizard…understand?”

        His companion nodded her head, a mix of hurt and anger in her eyes, which were fixed on Rayne.

        “If you lot want to march right on up to that cemetery and just start digging around because the wizard told you to, that’s fine with me.  I told you before, I work alone.  I don’t like having you lot following me around.  So if you’d like to take that lot up there right now…at night…without knowing where to look for the Deathly Hallow or anything about the thousand deadly things you might be facing in that graveyard…you go right ahead.  Not having to look after all of you anymore would sure take a load off my back.”

        “If you’re so eager to die for that bloody wizard, you go on ahead.   Now, I’m going to spend the night in the village, get some rest, and get some information before I go up hunting around that cursed cemetery.   If you want me with you when you get there, then I suggest you and the rest of your adventurer pals get over to that inn, get some rooms, and get some sleep.”

        Solomon’s companion bowed slightly, her eyes still fixed on Rayne, then backed slowly away into the muddy street.  She turned around and motioned to a group of others to follow her.  She didn’t look back.  Solomon watched them walk down the street toward the inn at the far end.

        “I see your way with women hasn’t improved any,” said a rough voice from just inside the now open door of the cottage.

        Solomon spun around to see a large red-haired, rugged man standing in the doorway.  He was strong, confident, and shrewd, yet there was kindness in his eyes. 

        After a few moments, Solomon said, “Alastor.”

        “Solomon,” Alastor replied.  “It’s been a long time.  What are you doing here?  Who are all those…people…with you?”  Alastor motioned toward the group now making its way toward the inn.

        Solomon looked after the group.  “Travelling companions, nothing more,” he said.

        “I thought you always worked alone.”

        “I do,” Solomon replied, quickly turning back to face Alastor.

        “Fine.  What are you doing here, Solomon?”

        “May I come in?” Solomon asked.

        Alastor stood in the doorway, his large frame nearly filling the opening.  He looked carefully at Solomon, studying him, but said nothing.  The voices of a woman and small children could still be heard spilling out into the street from the nearby window and now, open door.

        “Please, Alastor,” Solomon asked quietly.  “I’m here because of the Deathly Hallow.”

        A brief flicker of understanding and suspicion crossed Alastor’s face.  His eyes darted up and down the deserted street.  Then he stepped back from the doorway and motioned Solomon inside.  Solomon bowed slightly, and stepped inside the cottage.  Alastor closed the door behind him.

        It was a simple cottage, but warm.  Alastor directed Solomon toward a room on his right.  A fire crackled in the hearth and large animal skin covered most of the stone floor.  Several wooden toys littered the corner of the room.  Alastor motioned for Solomon to sit in a nearby chair.

        “Are you hungry?” asked Alastor.

        “Yes,” Solomon replied.

        Alastor left the room again.  After a few moments, he returned with a plate of food and a mug of mead.  He handed them to Solomon, who thanked him, and then sat down in a chair opposite him.  Alastor allowed Solomon to finish a few bites of food and a drink before he spoke again.

        “So…what about the Hallow?”

        Solomon took another gulp of mead, and then replied, “The Shadowfell is rising again, Alastor.”

        “I’m aware of that, Solomon.  I live here…remember?  But what has that got to do with the Hallow?”

        “The Hallow is fueling their rise, Alastor.  They’re using the power of the Hallow buried in our graveyard to open a doorway for their armies into our world.”

        Alastor stood up and began pacing, thinking hard, and Solomon took advantage of the moment to take another bite of food.   After a few moments, Alastor asked aloud the question he’d been running over in his mind.  “How…   How can they do that?” 

        “I don’t know,” Solomon replied.  “The lords of the Shadowfell must have found some way to tap into the Hallow’s power from their world.”

        “I don’t know, Solomon.  I can’t see how…”

        “It doesn’t matter how, Alastor.  It’s happening.   It’s not a coincidence that the Shadowfell’s rise is beginning here at Annwyn.  It’s happening here because the Hallow is here.”

        There were a few more moments of silence while Alastor considered Solomon’s words.

        “What’s your plan, then?” Alastor asked.

        “I need to find the Hallow and remove it from the graveyard.”

        “Ha!” Alastor chuckled.  “That Deathly Hallow has been hidden in that graveyard for a thousand years, and for all that time, I, and father before me, and his father before him through generations,

have ensured that it has remained hidden…dissuading seekers, denying rumors, and worse, when necessary… and now you…you are just going to walk in and take it, is that it?  Is that your plan?”

        “Something like that, yes,” Solomon replied slightly irritated.

        “That’s a great plan, Solomon, really,” Alastor said sarcastically.  “And all you’re little friends, what part do they play in your plan?”

        “The more people I have searching, the faster I can find the Hallow, and remove it.  I can hold my own, but I’m no fool, Alastor.  The lords of the Shadowfell will be protecting the Hallow well.  The sooner I can get out of that old graveyard with the Hallow, the better.”

        “All these years we’ve been protecting the Hallow from being discovered by countless seekers, wizards, zealots, and all, and now you expect me to let you just waltz in and take it away…revealing it to the world?”

        “It’s not like that, Alastor.  These people already know the Hallow is here.”

        “Have you told them it is?”

        “No, of course not.”

        “Then they only suspect, Solomon, like so many others before them.  They don’t really know, but if you go digging around in that graveyard, and you find it, then, Solomon, then they’ll know.  Then the world will know.  Then all hell will break loose, Solomon!”

        “Hell is already breaking loose, Alastor, because the Hallow is here!”

        The two men stared at each other for a few moments, each breathing heavily, faces stern and fixed.

        “Alastor, the Hallow can’t remain here anymore.  It’s too dangerous.  I have to take it away from here before it’s too late.”

        “And then what, Solomon?  What happens to the Hallow once you’ve removed it from the graveyard?”

        “I’ll hide it again.”

        “Where?”

        “I don’t know where.  Somewhere far from here…somewhere the lords of the Shadowfell can’t find it.”

        “What about the wizard I heard you talking about to that woman outside?  Will you give it to him to hide, Solomon?” Alastor asked with a hint of accusation in his voice.

         “Wizards can’t be trusted,” Solomon replied defiantly.  “I haven’t forgotten, Alastor.  I have no intention of giving the Hallow to him.”

        Alastor studied Solomon carefully again, looking for any sign of deception or bewitchment, but he could find none.  Finally, resigned, he said, “Very well.  “We’ll go in the morning.  The Shadowfell’s reach has grown greater than you know.  The veil of shadow has fallen over the entire mountain already.  It’s always dark there, now, except for the unnatural, blue glow, so it doesn’t really matter when we go, but I’d feel much better just knowing that it was daylight.”

        “What do you mean, ‘we’ll go,’?”

        “I mean you and I, Solomon, and I think I can get a few others from the village to help.  Men I can trust,” Alastor explained.

        “Absolutely not, Alastor.  This is my fight.  It’s my calling…”

        “And it’s my home, Solomon…my family that will be the first to fall under the veil of shadow…my family that will suffer the torment of the lords of the Shadowfell…if you should fail.  Isn’t that right?  Well that makes it my fight and my calling, too.”

        “No, Alastor.  I work…”

        “You work alone, I know,” Alastor interrupted, “and I know why, but if you think that I would let you come in here after all these years and then go up there to that cursed graveyard and remove that Hallow from its hiding place all alone, then you really have been gone too long.”

        “Alastor…” Solomon began, but Alastor cut him off.

        “You might as well accept it, Solomon,” Alastor moved over and slapped his hand onto Solomon’s back.  “Since when does a younger brother get to tell his elder brother what he can and cannot do, huh?”  Alastor smiled at him.

        “Alastor, I didn’t come here to get you involved in this.  I just wanted to see you.  Your family…”

        “Solomon, I’m already involved.  I’ve been involved since the day I was born.  It’s our family’s curse…the knowledge and guardianship of the Deathly Hallow.  I’ve been involved since father entrusted me with the great family secret.  I may not have embraced that calling in the same way that you have, Solomon, but I’m already involved.”

        “Besides, I’m doing this for my family.  If we succeed…if we find the Hallow…if we remove it from this place, not only will we save my family and Annwyn, but I’ll never have to burden my own sons with the knowledge of and responsibility for the Hallow.  They will never have to carry that weight.  I can’t think of a better gift to give them, can you?”

        Solomon said nothing.

        “Come on,” Alastor beckoned, “I want to introduce my sons to their Uncle Solomon.”  The two of them left the room.

To be continued...

Blogger's Note: Here are play testing cards for Alastor Rayne and the Warriors of Annwyn.  You may notice that they bear striking similarities to existing Heroscape figures and cards.

   

Blogger's Note: Log on next week for the final bonus episode...

The Deathly Hallows: The Shadowfell

Blogger's Note: Here is the second episode of "The Deathly Hallows".  Read on, and enjoy.

        “I trust that everything will be ready at the appointed time, Nerull?”

        “Yes, my Lord.  Everything is going according to plan,” replied Nerull.

        Nerull, tall and red-skinned with dark, flowing, robes, with a long gray, hair and beard, had a grating and rattling voice.  He carried a large, vicious scythe at his side, and a pair of human skulls hung from his belt as trophies of two particularly significant victories.  His eyes glowed with a fierce and malicious will.  He walked beside, and slightly behind a taller, shadowed figure.  The ground made a loud cracking sound as they walked.

        “The world of mortals will not withstand the power of the Shadowfell.”  Nerull’s large, pointed teeth were bared through his broad grin.  “They will fall in fear before our hordes.”

        “Good,” the shadowed figure responded quietly in a low, airy voice.  “Good.”   The two walked on, and for a few moments, the only sound came from the ground beneath their feet, Nerull still slightly behind his shadowed master, then the master spoke again, “I look forward to expanding my garden.”

        “Yes, my lord,” said Nerull, smiling even more broadly.

        The skulls and bones of the dead cracked and snapped under their feet as they walked.  On either side of the path of bones, bathed in the pale blue light of the Shadowfell moon, were rows of dead planted in the ground to their waists, their arms raised high above their heads as if reaching for the pale sky above them. The arms and bodies of those nearest the path waved slightly as the two dark figures passed by them.

   

     “It’s a beautiful garden,” Nerull continued.

        The two walked on, heading toward a large, dark palace that erupted from the edge of the garden.  Its walls were thick and piled, its pinnacles, rough and jagged like great stalagmites.  A large iron gate guarded the entrance to the palace wall at the end of the bone path.

        “And the Hallow?  It will provide sufficient power to create the passage?” questioned the shadowed figure.

        “Yes, my lord.  More than enough,” Nerull answered.  “The ancient mages knew their craft well.  The Hallows are imbued with powerful magic.  Too bad the mages were never able to unite them and use them on us.”  The shadowed figure tilted its head slightly.  Nerull caught the subtle movement, and anxiously added, “Too bad for them, I mean.”  The shadowed figure looked straight ahead once more.

        “Yes,” it said.   “They thought that by creating the pieces in several locations, that we wouldn’t detect them until it was too late.”

        “They were wrong.”

        “Yes, my lord…dead wrong,” Nerull let out a sinister laugh as  he bounced the two skulls tied to his belt up and down.

        The two walked along in silence again.

        As they passed through the iron gate, the shadowed figure spoke again.  “And what of the mortals?”

        “They are of no concern, my lord,” Nerull answered.  “The Hallow is hidden in very remote area, far from the strength and might of the mortal realm.  And their strength is not what it once was, my lord.  By the time they realize what is upon them, it will be far too late.  Our hordes will be unstoppable.  This time things will turn out far differently.  This time, the mortal realm will fall under shadow forever.”

        “I hope so, Nerull,” the airy voice spoke.  “I’ve waited and planned for this moment for a thousand years.  I would hate to see my plans fail.”

        “That will not happen, my lord.  I have seen to it,” said Nerull, once again with a hint of anxiety in his voice.  “As I said, the threshold is forming in a very remote area.  The nearby village is a small and superstitious place, populated by old men and women, filled with fear of the Shadowfell and empty of the knowledge and ability to thwart us.  If they were to call for assistance, I doubt any mortal would come, my lord.  No one cares about them.”

        “Even if, by some small chance, someone would come to investigate, they would not survive the attempt.  The Hallow is hidden, and it is guarded well, my lord.  I have seen to it.  Zombies, Grave Guardians, a few of my Reapers, as well as some…more dangerous…creatures wait to destroy any who disturb that hallowed ground.”

        “The Hallow will not be discovered.  The threshold will be established.  The mortal realm will fall under our control.”

        “Besides, my lord, the Hallows have long been forgotten by realm of mortals.  No one…”

        “The wizards will know,” the shadowed figure interrupted.

        “Surely not, my lord.  After a thousand…”

        “Not all will have forgotten,” said the low voice.  “Someone will know.  Our success cannot depend on the forgetfulness of wizards.”

        “As you say, my lord,” Nerull bowed slightly.

        “There is a risk in using the magic of the Hallow to open the passage.”

        “As you say, my lord,” Nerull bowed slightly again, “but it’s a only small risk.”

        “Hmm,” the master’s voice faded away into thought.

        The two dark figures silently climbed a small flight of steps that led to an iron door.  When they reached the top, the door opened of its own accord, but the shadowed figure stopped short of entering and turned to face Nerull.

        “Nerull, you are one of my ablest and most trusted lieutenants,” the shadowed figure said in its low, airy voice.

        “Thank you, my lord.”

        “Do not fail me, Nerull,” the airy voice was firmer now.

        “No, my lord.”

        “If the mortals get their hands on this one Deathly Hallow, they will undoubtedly seek out the others, as well.  Then my carefully laid out plans…the plans over which I have labored for a thousand years…would be undone, the conquest of the mortal realm would be in jeopardy, and the dominion of the Shadowfell itself would be subjugated by the power of the Hallows.” 

        The shadowed figure paused momentarily.  Though his eyes could not be seen, he glared at Nerull, and Nerull shivered coldly. 

        “You would not live to see such a day, Nerull,” the low, airy voice was now unnaturally cold and forceful.  “Do you understand?”

        “Y…yes,” stumbled Nerull as he bowed low before his master, “perfectly, my lord.”

        “Good,” said the shadowed figure.  The shadowed figure turned back toward the open doorway, and said, “See to the plan,” as he walked inside the palace.

        “As you say, my lord,” Nerull’s voice trailed off into silence.

To be continued...

Blogger's Note: Below is the Play Test card for Nerull and the Skeletal Reaper, two of the new figures we will be playing with at this year's Halloween Heroscape Event. After we've play tested it, I will make a final Heroscape card for it (and several other new figures we'll be using in the game). But here's a look at the stats, powers, and points they'll be starting with.

Blogger's Note: Log on again next Friday for the next episode of "The Deathly Hallows."