Inspired by Meepo's "expanded Holmes" (see here), I ran the first session of B4 with Holmes this evening. This is the edition I started with all those years ago, but back then we played a unholy mix of versions, pulling rules freely from all over the place; my Holmes games back then were as much Moldvay/Cook and OAD&D as they were Holmes. So this is kinda like my first time running anything close to by-the-book Holmes (although I'm house-ruling some stuff).
My players are my two eldest children. They rolled up a PC each, going 3d6 in order and seeing what came up. What they got was:
I also gave them three "desert nomad" NPCs (normal men) that were survivors from the caravan.
My house rules (mostly Meepo's, but a few differences):
Some things I've noticed, already:
Everyone had a blast. My son has played C&C, BFRP, and BECMI, before (and I gave him a copy of the Mentzer Basic set, so he's familiar with that), but this was his first time playing Holmes. He noticed some differences (stat bonuses, everything doing 1d6 damage), but didn't seem to worry about them. Usually when he plays, there are adults playing, too, so he rarely "takes the lead" in the game. This time, he was the leader, making all the decisions, etc. I think it improved the game for him; he really got into it. I even saw him closing his eyes as I described what his character could see. This was my daughter's first time running a PC, although she's often seen others playing, so she already knew how it worked. I enjoyed seeing how excited she got.
The party entered the ziggurat and made their way to the entrance/statue room with the three bronze cylinders. The door shut on them, which caused some concern until they tried re-opening it and had no problem. However, after assuring themselves they weren't locked in, they let it close, again.
They immediately started examining the bronze cylinders. During their examination, I mentioned that they were beginning to feel light-headed. That sped things up, and the Fighter moved up to the rightmost cylinder and opened its door, triggering the trapdoor. He fell into the darkness, below, luckily only taking 1 point of damage. I ruled that he had managed to slow his fall by bumping the ladder, but he still landed on his back with a crash.
He couldn't see much, since he didn't have the torch (the cleric, above, still carried it), so the only light was filtering down from the open trapdoor, above. However, almost immediately pale red lights illuminated in the dark corner of the room, and began moving towards him. I said the lights appeared to be coming from some 3 foot long beetles with huge pincer-like mandibles. The fighter got his feet and drew his sword just as the beetles reached him. The rest of the party had taken a point of damage from the gas, above, and was heading down the ladder.
I ruled that the Fighter, with his longsword, had the first attack on the beetles. He rolled a 19 for his initial roll, and a 6 for damage, slicing one beetle in half, immediately [This was a great way to start off the first combat of the game]. The others attacked, him, and one got a grip on his leg, drawing blood through his greave. He continued to hack at the monsters, and was soon joined by the rest of the group. The fight ended with the beetles dead and both the Fighter and Cleric slighty wounded.
After the fight, the PCs briefly considered the beetles as a possible food source, but decided to keep looking -- they weren't that desperate, yet, and this place looked cluttered with pottery jars and wooden crates or boxes. They made a thourough exploration of the room, and found some oil, but nothing to eat or drink. They were preparing to leave the room when they heard a noise from one of the doors on the west end, and the portal opened.
Several humanoid figures were about to come through the door, but they stopped as soon as they saw the PCs and their light. The figures were on the ragged edge of the torchlight, so the PCs could only make out shadowy forms with animal-like heads: a bird-man, a wolf or dog-like man, and several others. The beast-men seemed to be carrying a pallet or stretcher of some sort.
The PCs drew weapons and held their ground, but did not speak or move to attack. They just waited. The beast-men put down their burden and moved into the room, hands on weapons. The bird man said something in a strangely familiar, but incomprehensible tongue. [I'm ruling that the Cyndiceans speak an ancient and mutated form of Common. The PCs can understand it if they listen very carefully, and can learn the dialect if they're exposed to it for a while. I described it to my players as trying to understand spoken archaic English, heavily accented. I gave them a demonstration by saying "Wha b'yee, un Wham djyah serf?" (i.e. who are you and whom do you serve?). After several repetions accompanied by gestures, my daughter cried out "He wants to know who we are!" I immediatey awarded her some XP points, to her delight. From there, conversation was handled by rolling 3d6 against Int to see if accurate communication was achieved.]
A parlay was achieved, and weapons sheathed. When the PCs got closer, they saw that the beast-men weren't beast-men at all, but rather pale-skinned humanoids wearing elaborate masks and costumes. After communication was established, the PCs came to understand that the masked men wanted them to come help with a wounded comrade. The agreed, and followed the masked strangers through the east door, into a dark hallway where the crumpled form of another masked man (this one with a hound mask) lay in a pool of blood that leaked from his mangled leg.
The masked hawk-man pointed to the wound and directed a stream of words at the PCs. He waited expectantly, but couldn't make himself understood. He began to get visibly frustrated, and even angry. The PCs got the idea that he expected something of them, and that he thought they were refusing. Again, my daughter caught the message, saying "he wants us to heal his friend!" The PCs washed and bandaged the wound, but couldn't do anything else. This obviously didn't satisfy the hawk-man, who made more angry comments. The Fighter (who has a decent Cha), finally managed to convince the hawk-man that the PCs were unable to do anything else.
At this, the hawk-man nodded his understanding and shrugged. He drew his short-sword, causing immediate concern (especially among the NPC followers, who drew weapons). However, the PCs didn't draw their weapons. After a brief glance and sneer at the NPC followers, the hawk-man knelt by the hound-man and plunged his sword into the unfortunate fellow's heart, again causing cried of alarm and horror.
Wide-eyed, the Fighter stood and watched as the hawk-man wiped his blade and stood. The hawk man pointed to the wound on the fighter's leg, said something, and nodded resignedly. He clapped him on the shoulder, looked him in the eye, and drew back his sword-arm for a thrust. The Fighter gave a cry of "No!", grabbing the sword arm and punching the hawk-man. [He had set his shield down while treating the hound-man, and his sword was sheathed.] His blow didn't strike true, but knocked the man's mask askew. Immediately weapons came out all around and a frenzied melee erupted in the hall.
The Cleric (my daughter) held a shield and a torch. Rather than drop the torch, she used it as a weapon. She didn't try to club them, but just to set their robes/feathers/etc on fire. She suceeded with the bird-man, and he was soon wreathed in flame. [Rather gruesome, but effective tactics for a young girl to think of.] Anyway, the fight was quickly over, ending in a PC victory with no loss of life, but a few more lost HPs.
That's where we stopped. (It was a school night.) Hopefully we'll have a longer session this evening.