1988 kicked ass.

Previously...

Our story begins in New Phlan, where the City Council is recruiting brave heroes to take back their fair city from the clutches of evil. Everyone knows this thanks to the spiffy flyers that have apparently been plastered throughout town.

And just how did this once-great city become such a complete pile of shite?

Well, it’s a long story—as told in the official Pool of Radiance Adventurer’s Journal—so I’ll give you the high points.

Basically, Phlan used to be a huge, wealthy city until it was wrecked, rebuilt, invaded, cursed, burned down, and abandoned more times than anybody can count. Every time people get the place running again, dragons, monsters, famine, plague, corrupt rulers, or some evil wizard comes along and fucks everything up.

Now, the surviving humans have established a small fortified section called New Phlan, while most of the old city remains under the control of orcs, goblins, undead, bandits, and all manner of other nasty shit.

That’s where I come in—or, more accurately, where the four brave adventurers whose lives I now control like some demented puppeteer come in.

Oh, and there’s some shit about a place called the Pool of Radiance, which supposedly gives people incredible powers.

I’m sure that won’t be important later.

Alright, now that we have that out of the way, let’s get to some dice-rolling, ass-kicking DOS action!

The party was greeted at the docks by Rolf, a council-appointed stooge tasked with giving New Phlan’s latest arrivals the grand tour.

Rolf: tour guide, council representative, and current target of Mara's undressing eyes.

From the gleam in Mara’s eyes, I suspected she was already calculating exactly how much trouble murdering a council representative would cause. To be honest, I'm not sure—Mara is a bit hard to read at times.

Rolf showed them around, taking the party to the Temple of Tyr, the special training halls where they would eventually go to become über-powerful, City Hall, and finally the dark tunnel leading into the monster-infested ruins of old Phlan.

Meanwhile, I grabbed my pencil and grid paper and set to work.

There was much to do.

Before long, the party found themselves at the Clerk’s Office in City Hall, where they learned about the various bounties currently being offered:

Nothing says civic administration like outsourcing monster extermination to a barely functional party of assholes.

• The Slums immediately to the west needed to be cleared of monsters.
• Sokal Keep on Thorn Island needed to be cleared of monsters.
• A reward was being offered for any books, maps, or tomes containing useful information about Phlan before it went to shit.

A mischievous grin formed on Merrick’s face, distorted by the dim light of the hall.

“So, they’re paying for old maps?”

Aldren nodded. “Anything that could potentially help to reclaim the city.”

“I’m more concerned with the reward and couldn’t care less about the result,” Merrick said as he rubbed his hands together.

Aldren stared at him for a full five seconds before answering.

“Merrick, think of the opportunity here! We could play a huge part in restoring Phlan to its former glory!”

Mara laughed.

“We’re just here for the money. But I do think it’s awful cute of you to actually care.”

“And power. Don’t forget power,” Lucian added.

“Yes, Lucy. And power.”

“Don’t call me that! My name is Lucian!”

Mara grinned.

The Council’s interest in old maps and information also gave the party another idea: if they were going to spend the foreseeable future crawling through the ruins of Phlan, they might as well keep their own record of where they’d been.

Remarkably, all four agreed—although probably not for the same reasons.

Aldren saw a proper map as another tool in the effort to reclaim the city. Mara understood the value of knowing every entrance, alleyway, and possible escape route. Lucian was naturally drawn toward whatever might be hiding in the unexplored corners of the ruins.

And Merrick?

Well, tell a thief that the city is full of forgotten passages, hidden rooms, and buried treasure, and then tell him somebody might actually pay him to find them.

I don’t think Merrick needed much convincing.

Automapper? Shit, I've never even met her!

As for me, I had a fancy new Gloomroad Notebook full of empty fucking squares and absolutely no intention of leaving a single one blank.

And so another unofficial rule of the expedition was born:

If there’s somewhere to explore, we’re mapping it. All of it. Every last fucking inch.

With their potential employment opportunities duly noted, the party ventured on, wandering through the alleys and thoroughfares of New Phlan until they eventually stumbled into a nearby tavern.

There, they overheard something considerably more disturbing: rumors of a slave auction being held at a hidden camp near Stormy Bay.

Aldren looked visibly unnerved.

“We have to help them.”

Lucian raised a finger. “I once read about a demon who traded favors for—”

“No.”

Merrick shrugged. “There might be a reward.”

Aldren stared at him.

“What? We can save people and get paid.”

Eventually, they found themselves at a neighborhood arms and armor shop.

Four strangers walk into town and this guy immediately starts showing them swords. No background check required.

I wanted to buy Aldren a bastard sword, but he refused to wield a weapon with such an offensive name, so a long sword would have to do.

The party spent a large chunk of their collective wealth outfitting themselves for whatever horrors awaited beyond the walls of New Phlan.

Aldren suggested pooling everyone’s remaining money together.

The others weren’t having it.

Apparently, while they might technically be a party, financially speaking, it was every asshole for themselves.

Starting Equipment

• Aldren: Long sword, banded mail, shield, long bow, 50 arrows
• Mara: Mace, scale mail, shield
• Lucian: Dagger
• Merrick: Dagger, sling, leather armor

And with that, another rule was born:

New Rule: No Sharing the Loot!

All treasure will be divided among the party, and nobody is required to share shit.

That might change as their relationships develop—or when somebody desperately needs money and discovers how much their companions actually like them. Or it might not, I don’t know.

At some point during their increasingly frequent tavern visits, somebody picked my party’s pocket.

Oh, fuck you.

The tavern continued to prove itself a wonderful source of questionable information. Among the rumors floating around:

• Some shit about a man called “Turtle,” walls that aren’t there, and living daggers.
• The graveyard is supposedly controlled by a powerful and intelligent undead creature.
• A master thief has established a hidden training facility somewhere underground in the old city.

Interesting.

Particularly that last one.

I’m sure Merrick wasn’t paying attention whatsoever.

The party eventually discovered a silver shop, where Mara took an immediate liking to a silver mirror.

Unfortunately, Mara was also broke.

Life sucked sometimes.

Later, back at a different tavern—apparently all four of these assholes enjoy a drink or three—the party caught a pickpocket in the act.

And then a drunken brawl broke out.

This! This is why we can't go anywhere!

Things went very badly, very quickly.

The party got their asses kicked, fled from the city guards, and eventually staggered into the nearest hostel, dragging their nearly dead bodies through the door.

So far, my heroic campaign to reclaim Phlan was going exceptionally well.

They slept for the better part of a day, gaining enough vitality back to be able to squabble amongst themselves again.

“Heal us, you bitch!” Lucian exclaimed.

“If you could be so kind, that is,” Aldren tacked on.

“I’m dying,” Merrick said to nobody.

Mara sighed and begrudgingly got to work memorizing Cure Light Wounds.

After nearly two days of resting and repeated healing, Mara finally managed to get the entire party back on its feet.

By the time they emerged from the hostel, it was six in the evening and the sun had already disappeared behind New Phlan’s walls.

The party continued exploring the city, eventually reaching the shopping district.

The party wandered aimlessly through New Phlan while I desperately tried to remember which fucking square I was on.

Unfortunately, everything was closed for the night.

There was, however, another option.

Break in.

And this presented me with an interesting problem.

I knew breaking into a shop at first level was probably a pretty dumb idea.

But did they?

Until now, I’d simply been making decisions for the party myself. But that didn’t seem entirely fair. These weren’t four versions of me wandering around Phlan. They had their own alignments, motivations, and increasingly apparent personalities.

Those things should matter.

So I decided that whenever the game presented a choice where the party’s personalities might genuinely affect the outcome, I would let them have a say.

Or, more accurately, I’d let a die have a say.

The system would be simple.

Whenever the party faced a meaningful decision, I’d first decide how many of the four characters would reasonably agree with it based on their alignments and the personalities they’d developed so far.

Then I’d roll a single 1d4.

The more characters who supported an idea, the better its chances on a 1d4. If only one agreed, I'd need a 4. If two agreed, a 3 or 4. If three agreed, anything but a 1.

Simple enough.

And thus we returned to the dilemma at hand:

Do they break into the shop?

Three party members saw an opportunity. Aldren saw a lengthy jail sentence!

Aldren was obviously against it.

Merrick was almost certainly in favor.

Lucian could easily justify it.

Mara was harder to read, but I decided she might view New Phlan’s authority figures as beneath her.

That left us with three in favor and one opposed.

Which meant the party would break in on a 2, 3, or 4.

A 1 meant Aldren somehow managed to talk the other three out of it.

Time to roll.

Holy fuck.

I rolled a 1.

Aldren stepped in front of the shop’s wooden door.

“Look, everyone, breaking into this poor man’s shop isn’t going to get us anything other than a meet-and-greet with the town guards! Did you all just forget we nearly died?”

Merrick grumbled.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aldren. Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

Somehow, against all odds, the shop survived the night unmolested.

Dodged that fucking bullet, didn’t I?

Alright.

Let’s get some sleep.

To the hostel!

After a good night’s rest, the party set out once again to finish mapping the remainder of New Phlan.

Eventually, they discovered another silver shop.

And Aldren REALLY wanted that silver long sword.

Unfortunately, he had only 21 gold to his name. He glanced around at his three ‘friends,’ hoping one of them might offer up some monetary assistance. News flash: no one did.

Lucian and Merrick, however, had a few coins to spare and each selected a silver dagger.

With New Phlan finally mapped, there was nothing left to do but move on.

Why use an automapper when you can spend hours slowly losing your mind with a pencil, graph paper and an overpriced sharpener?

Beyond the safety of the civilized district waited the ruined streets of the old city.

And somewhere within them, their first real destination:

The Slums.

Next Time On...