Greyshad

Army Builder

2010-02-04T13:15:00.001-06:00

For the best in Army Builder related information check out Circvs Maximvs.

In fact, here are some good therads to browse:

Game is still on

2008-09-05T16:51:00.002-05:00

So, we're still playing, I've just been very lazy about blogging.

I've split the game into two groups of five PCs. All of the players under 18, including my son and daughter, play early on Saturday. All of the players over 18 play in the evening on Saturday.

Both PC groups are level 3 now. In the children's game (I need to find a better name for my groups), the characters have gone back up to Dalton's Camp. It seems that goblins of the Black Blade tribe have been more persistent in their raids on the mining operations and Kharas Fireaxe has asked for their help in dealing with the little bastards. While wandering in the area looking for goblins, they came on a green dragon that was digging up something near one of the mine sites. They tried to negotiate with the dragon to no avail. A long and grueling combat ensued. The heroes won the day relatively easily. They discovered the dragon's lair nearby where they recovered some well-earned treasure. They also dug about where they encountered the dragon and found what it was looking for . . . or so they think. An onyx statue of a dragon that is magical in nature, although they have not been able to determine its power. They plan to move forward against the goblins before investigating the dragon statue.

In the meantime the adult game (again, we need a better name) the PCs have made their way to Thunderspire Labyrinth where they delivered the Kharas's package to the drow merchant. They have asked about and founds some information on the Bloodreaver clan of hobgoblins and are likely to investigate their doings.

More later when I have time.

Session Discussion: Skill Challenges

2008-08-03T20:32:00.005-05:00

So, we did a couple of more extended skill challenges. Here's my notes on these challenges:

Approach the Bloodreaver Lair

This skill challenge is necessary to find the Bloodreaver Lair quickly and quietly. It is assumed that the heroes are trying to reach the lair unmolested and undetected.

Difficulty: Moderate (DC 10)

6 Successes (150 xp)

At this level of success you manage to reach the Bloodreaver lair without alerting any patrols to your presence. All guards will be considered ready (but not alert) until such time as your activities dictate otherwise.

9 Successes (275 xp)

In addition to reaching the Bloodreaver lair undetected you also manage to find a good location near the lair to set up a defensible “base camp” to which you can retreat and avoid contact with goblins if you are careful about returning to the place without leading enemies to it.

12 Successes (400 xp)

You reach the Bloodreaver lair undetected, find a good base camp and capture a lone goblin who gives up information about the guard routines and patrols. This information grants a +2 bonus to any three skill checks during the next skill challenge. The skill check bonus must be declared before the roll.

3 Failures (0 xp)

If you get three failures before achieving at least six successes then each character loses one healing surge and the party has a combat encounter with a Bloodreaver patrol. The Bloodreaver guards will flee as soon as a single of their number falls. If any of the patrollers make it back to the lair alive then the entire lair will be considered alert for the next several hours. Apply a -2 penalty to all skill checks in the next skill challenge (Stalking the Bloodreaver lair) should you choose to attempt that challenge before the next sunrise. Additionally, all Bloodreaver guards are alert and ready for combat during this time.

Key Skills (DC 10)

Athletics: you use your physical skills to help your party navigate the mountainous terrain.
Dungeoneering: using knowledge of general dungeon construction and guard patterns, you help avoid patrols and get into best position near the lair.
Endurance: stealthy movement through mountainous terrain is hard work. Your endurance helps ensures that you and your comrades do not flag during the trek.
Nature: using knowledge of the natural world you help to avoid any dangerous flora or fauna. You help track previous patrols and see tell tale signs of recent goblin passage.
Perception: you powers of perception help you to find the way to the goblin lair while avoiding patrolling enemies.
Stealth: you and your friends sneak through the mountainous terrain drawing closer and closer to the enemy stronghold.

Secondary Skills (DC 15)

Acrobatics: the difficult terrain presents no challenge to you as you leap over ravines and tumble through underbrush and move closer to the Bloodreaver lair.
Heal: climbing through these rough mountains results in numerous cuts, scrapes and bruises. Your use of first aid helps keep the heroes on their feet.

Stalking the Bloodreaver Lair

After finding the Bloodreaver lair you have the option of observing and planning your assault which may make it your attack easier.

Difficulty: Hard (DC 15)

6 Successes (350 xp)

Each character gets a +1 bonus usable on any single d20 roll while inside the lair.

9 Successes (525 xp)

As above and gain one action point.

12 Successes (700 xp)

As above and find hidden treasure near the lair: buried chest with 250 gold and Gloves of Piercing.

3 Failures (0 xp)

While casing the Bloodreaver lair you alert guards to your presence. Each PC loses two healing surges immediately and the guards on duty outside attack. Additionally, the goblins inside the lair prepare for an attack. All goblins are alert and prepared for combat. Traps, cover and other preparations are fully in place.

Allow the PCs to use any reasonable skill that they can justify with role-play/explanation of use.

Session Report: Against the Bloodreavers

2008-08-03T20:17:00.003-05:00

Far north of Dalton's Camp on the western face of the White Mist Mountains, the heroes have journeyed into the area where Jadonkos believes they will find the Bloodreaver tribe lair. The heroes spend time following trails, staying hidden from patrols and working their way towards the lair.

They eventually find a clearing in the woods near a shear cliff face. There is a large pit dug away from the cliff face and a few tents scattered around the area. A long hobgoblin stands guard near a crack in the cliff face that looks as if it might enter into a deeper cave.

The heroes stalk the place for a few hours. They watch patrol patterns and find a good place to hunker down in from which they will launch their attack. Mizuni and Dorrin scout forward to attack the lone guard. The heroes quickly cut down the guard before he can raise an alarm and kill the resting guards in the tents before they can enter the fray.

After a quick rest they charge into the cave. A pair of soldiers and several archers stand guard. The archers hold the high ground and pelt Bracken without mercy. After the dwarf falls unconscious they switch targets to Dorrin who has climbed up onto the ledge with him. Dorrin survives their attacks with a bit of luck and his friends, having cleared out the soldiers move in and finsih off the archers.

Pressing deeper into the lair the heroes follow worked stone hallways to another large natural cavern. Here they meet another band of hobgoblins. The hobgoblins fall quickly to the focused attacks of the heroes, but not before one races out of the place an into a crevasse heading deeper into the lair.

Dorrin creeps forward after the archer and finds a room packed with many goblins. He attacks one and the goblins move quickly to bottleneck the heroes in the entrance to their ground. It is a long and hard struggle, but eventually the dwarf protectors manage to get through to the front lines and control the flow of the battle while Dorrin and Muzuni strike down the enemies. Algea makes short work of many of the goblins with his blasts of fire. Eventually the battle is down to only an axe wielding goblin leader and a goblin hexer who has covered the battlefield with an obscuring fog. The heroes bring these two down and make ready to press onward to find the leader of the Bloodreavers.

Session Report: Rewards

2008-08-03T14:23:00.002-05:00

The heroes received the following rewards in the foray into the Bloodreaver hideout:

XP: 588 (current total 1996)
Gold: 30 gold each
Magic Items: Battleforged Armor +1: Fargrim
Flaming Battleaxe +1: Drast
Battleaxe of Terror +1: Brackent

Session Discussion: Skill Challenge - Success?

2008-07-29T21:35:00.003-05:00

So, I'm going to lay out all of my notes from the negotiation skill challenge with the dragon Jadonkos. I hope this will show you where I'm coming from and how I hope to see skill challenges work in the future.

Skill challenge vs. Jadonkos (Difficulty: Hard – DC 15)

Before resorting to fighting, the dragon Jadonkos offers to parley with the PCs. Should they accept the offer and succeed in a difficult skill challenge they may achieve victory without combat. They may also acquire a gift from Jadonkos and a quest.

Success (minimal): 6 successes – 525 xp
Jadonkos agrees to leave the heroes alone either because they managed to convince him that the Black Tablet is not of use to him or that they are more than he can handle.

Success (medium): 9 successes – 700 xp
As above and Jadonkos asks the heroes to help him with his problem with the Bloodreaver clan of hobgoblins. He offers a quest to them to track the Bloodreaver Clan of hobgoblins who recently attacked his lair and took many hostages.

Success (maximum): 12 successes – 875 xp
As above and Jadonkos gives a Holy Symbol of Bahamut +1 to the party if they accept the quest to root out the Bloodreavers.

Failure: 3 failures before 6 (or more) successes
Jadonkos attacks the party and calls his kobold allies to aid him in the fight.

Key skills (DC: 15)

Examples of usage of key skills in this encounter:

Arcana: convince Jadonkos of your arcane knowledge and power and then explain that the Black Tablet is of no use to the dragon.
Bluff: convince Jadonkos that you do not have the Black Tablet
Diplomacy: sway Jadonkos to not fight and instead discuss the matter for mutual benefit
Insight: realize Jadonkos’s true desire: to protect his kobold followers and himself from the Bloodreaver hobgoblins; required to achieve 9+ successes
Intimidate: convince Jadonkos that he does not have the power to face down the party

Secondary Skills (DC: 20)

History: weave a tale about the Black Tablet and how it cannot be used to protect the dragon or his allies
Nature: this item is wholly unnatural, evil and dangerous. Its use will endanger the dragon and his minions.
Religion: the nature of the Black Tablet is wholly evil and your knowledge of religion is such that you can prove it is of no use to the dragon.
Any other skill the PCs can convingly employ.

If the PCs can convince the dragon not to fight (6 successes) then they may further convince him to offer a quest and possibly prepayment for the quest.

Session Report: Quests

2008-07-29T21:29:00.005-05:00

So, you have three new quests:

Kill the leader of the Bloodreaver tribe
Major Quest: 125 xp per PC
Jadonkos, the white dragon, has offered to pay you 500 gold to kill the leader of the Bloodreaver tribe of goblins. He has also partially prepaid for this quest in the form of a Holy Symbol of Life +1 for this quest.

Rescue kobolds from the Bloodreavers
Major Quest: 125 xp per PC
Jadonkos, the white dragon, has offered to pay you 500 gold to resuce seventeen kobolds who were taken prisoner by goblins and hobgoblins of the Bloodreaver tribe.

Exchange the sealed cask for the drow fortune stones
Minor Quest: 25 xp per PC
Kharas Fireaxe has offered 500 gold for you to take a sealed cask to his contact named Gendar in the Seven Pillared Hall in Thunderspire Labyrinth and return with a set of drow fortune stones that Gendar has.

Session Report: Rewards

2008-07-29T21:27:00.003-05:00

The heroes received the following rewards for last session:

XP: 409 (current total 1409)
Gold: hm, some amount of gold. Everyone should have about 150 gold less any spent.
Magic Items: Holy Symbol of Life +1: Varrin

Session Report: (Never?) Deal with a Dragon

2008-07-29T21:05:00.003-05:00

Having returned with the Black Tablet to Dalton's Camp and managed to avoid its capture by goblins, kobolds and a white dragon, the heroes set out for Berador. They intend to speak there to Vardigas Asmos and determine next steps.

The intial trek back to Berador is mostly uneventful. They stay off the road and slip through the Greywood. An overnight encounter with some ettercaps and spiders is mostly uneventful and followed by a conversation with a patrol of elves from Greywatch Hold.

On the third day out from Dalton's Camp the white dragon, Jadonkos, tracks the heroes down in the woods. He lands some distance away and offers to parley. The dragon demands the Black Tablet from them in exchange for sparing their lives. He wants it to protect his kobold minions from the hobgoblin raiders of the Bloodreaver clan. The heroes refuse to give up the tablet, and in their discussions manage to convince Jadonkos that the Black Tablet will not protect his people as he believes.

More conversation leads to the revelation that the dragon sincerely cares for his people and he offers to pay the heroes to rid him of the hobgoblin menace. They manage to convince him to make partial payment in advance and he hands over a Holy Symbol of Life +1 in the image of the dragon god Bahamut.

The heroes accept the quest and the payment and set out to Berador with promises to seek the dragon in his lair within ten days.

In Berador they reveal the Black Tablet to Vardigas and explain that it cannot be used of the desired protective ritual. Vardigas endeavors to investigate the tablet and then help the heroes decide what to do.

In the meantime the dwarf warrior, Bracken, has become rather attached to the Black Tablet. He gains power from its presence, including the ability to speak Abyssal and other skills have increased. He is reluctant to give up the tablet. The other heroes manage to convince him to allow Vardigas to study it, but Bracken refuses to leave while the studies go on.

Vardigas reveals that the heroes are correct; the Black Tablet will not provide any protection to the village. It will reveal the location to one of the five shards of the key called Imkinrisraka which opens the so-called prison of Ashembelaldu. The information the heroes have is that the demon called Certiakinryn is imprisoned there. Vardigas says no such demon exists, but that Ashembelaldu actually guards a treasure of some sort. He cannot identify the treasure.

The heroes resolve to leave the Black Tablet with the eladrin elder, Chadadarya Lidastar in the Greywood. They convince Bracken to leave it behind and he can "get it back later" when they return.

They head out for the Jadonkos's lair north of Dalton's Camp. In Dalton's Camp they speak to Kharas Fireaxe. On hearing of their plans he asks them to take a cask for him to a contact of his in the Seven Pillared Hall in Thunderspire Labyrinth. In exchange he will pay them 500 gold when they return with a set of drow fortune stones.

They make an uneventful journey to Jadonkos's lair. While their they learn that the hogoblins have again attacked the kobolds and this time they have taken many of them prisoner. Jadonkos offers to increase the reward to the heroes if they will also rescue his people. He offers 500 gold for the head of the hobgoblin leader and another 500 gold for the return of his people.

The heroes make their way to the hobgoblin lair over a period of about a week. They encounter no trouble until they near the hobgolin lair. They find their several outbuildings near a cave. Now they must find a way in and rescue the kobold prisoners.

Session Report: Rewards

2008-07-20T19:38:00.002-05:00

The heroes received the following rewards for last session:

XP: 365 (everyone is 2nd level now)
Gold: 75 gold each
Magic Items:

Rod of Reaving +1: Katerin
Staff of Winter +1: Algea
Duelist's Dagger +1: Mizuni
Frost Bastard Sword +1: Dorrin

Session Report: The Black Tablet Recovered

2008-07-20T19:20:00.002-05:00

The heroes decide to take their chances with the Black Tablet and take it with them back to Berador. They discover that the Black Tablet cannot be handled by any "safe" means as any non-living material other than earth or stone passes through the tablet. They cannot lift it with a rope or drop it in a sack. Fargrim offers the clever idea of coating the tablet in mud and then dropping it into a backpack. This works out quite well.

In the coffin with the tablet the heroes find several magical items which they divvy up among themselves for later use.

Anyone handling the Black Tablet has a sense of forboding and dread. After a few moments dozens chittering voices mumble unintelligibly and maddeningly in the mind of anyone carrying the tablet. A single voice speaks once in Common, "Find the key," and the other voices continue.

After some experimentation they discover that the voices seem harmless enough, but unnerving. Later Algea uses Comprehend Languages and listens to the voices. They mumble a great deal about death, destruction and hatred in Abyssal. He hears a few words that he knows are proper nouns, but he has no way to place them: Ashembelaldu, Certiakinryn and Imkinrisraka.

Later study and investigation reveals that a forgotten demon lord by the name of Certiakinryn is locked in the Abyssal prison of Ashembelaldu. Imkinrisraka is the key to the prison. It is broken into five pieces and they were purposely scattered and obscured so as to ensure that the demon lord would never be released. The Black Tablet provides the material and the instruction to perform a ritual which will reveal the location of one of the five shards of Imkinrisraka.

The heroes leave the dwarf temple to Moradin and find kobolds and goblins fighting on the doorstep. They watch as a massive battle unfolds with some two dozen combatants on each side. As the kobolds give ground and appear on the verge of losing the battle another horde of goblins charges in. Several are mounted on worgs. They rush in and wantonly slaughter everything in their path, goblin and kobold alike. As the battle draws to a close the heroes rush in and ambush the ambushers. The goblins put up a great fight, but they are no match for the heroes of Berador. One goblin, the warchief of the party, manages to escape on his wolf after all of his comrades fall.

The party makes its way to Dalton's Camp en route to Berador. On the way they notice that a great band of hundreds of goblins is gathering in the hills and appears to be pursuing them. They reach Dalton's Camp safely, but not long before the goblin war party. The heroes collect their reward from Kharas Fireaxe for the dwarf statuettes and set to helping to defend the town from the goblins.

The goblins surround the town and send a marshal to parley. They demand that the Black Tablet be turned over to them or they will raze the town and kill all within. They give the townfolk two days to decide. The heroes are intent on keeping the Black Tablet out of the hands of any evil creatures and work on defenses for the town.

On the next day a white dragon appears. It circles the town for many minutes and finally lands among the goblins. For several minutes the dragon appears to speak with the goblin leaders and then suddenly it attacks them. The dragon disperses the goblin horde by flying well out of range of their attacks and diving in to breathe its icy breath on them every minute or so.

After the goblins disperse the dragon makes its way to the town. The dragon seeks out any who will parley with him. He demands the Black Tablet for himself. The heroes refuse and pepper the dragon with fire and oil. The dragon flees back towards the mountains.

With the threat of the goblins gone, the heroes make preparations to set out for Berador carrying their evil burden. What will they do with the Black Tablet now?

Session Report Running Late

2008-07-15T22:06:00.002-05:00

The session report from this past week's game is coming, but I'm working my butt off right now and probably won't get to it until this weekend. Sorry.

New Monster: Stone Dwarf Statue

2008-07-09T21:30:00.007-05:00

This monster is my first 4th edition monster creation. I made it in about 10 minutes following the guidelines in the DMG and lifting heavily from the Stone Golem in the MM.

Stone Dwarf Statue Large Natural Animate			Level 3 Solo Soldier 750 xp
Initiative: +3 HP:196; Bloodied: 98 AC: 20; Fortitude: 20; Reflex: 14; Will: 16 Immune: disease, sleep, poison Saving Throws: +5 Action Points: 2 Speed: 6; can’t shift; see also Rampage			Senses: Perception -2; darkvision
Axe Slam (basic melee; standard; at-will)
	+10 vs. AC; 1d12+5 damage.
Double Axe Slam (standard; at-will)
	Makes two Axe Slam attacks.
Rampage (standard; recharge 5,6)
	The stone dwarf statue moves up to its speed plus 2 and can move through enemies’ spaces, provoking opportunity attacks as normal. When it enters a creature’s space (ally or enemy) the statue makes an axe slam attack against the creature. On a successful hit the statue pushes the target one square. The statue must end its rampage in an unoccupied square.
Death Burst (when bloodied and again when reduced to zero hit points)
	The stone dwarf statue explodes in a burst of jagged stone. Close burst 1; +10 vs. AC; 1d8+3 damage and the space it occupied is difficult terrain until cleared.
Alignment: unaligned		Languages: none
Str 17 (+5) Con 17 (+5)		Dex 6 (-1) Int 3 (-4)	Wis 8 (-1) Cha 3 (-4)

Session Report: Rewards and Quests

2008-07-06T21:40:00.003-05:00

The heroes received the following treasure and xp rewards for the last session.

XP: 381 each; new total 635; new characters have the same XP
Gold: 20 each

Quests

Find the Black Tablet
You found it. What are you going to do with it? XP is already rewarded for this.

Find statuettes of Moradin
You got 'em. Now get them back to Kharas for your cash. XP is already rewarded for this.

Skill Challenges - Again!

2008-07-06T21:32:00.003-05:00

Yeah, I'm still trying to figure the best way to do the skill challenges. I thought they went better, but the "negotiation" with the dwarf ghost didn't go off very well. What needs to happen differently is that you all need to (and I need to encourage) roleplay in these encounters and then shoot the dice.

Think of a skill challenge as a combat where you use your skills instead of your powers. How's that work? You roleplay. You describe your actions and/or what you're saying (or just say what your character says) and then we throw some dice. A good roll gets you a success. A bad roll gets a failure. The theory behind skill challenges is to offer a framework for the roleplay encounters that involve skill use and involve everyone. What we don't want to see is the options that usually came up in 3.x D&D: 1) the bard (or other high diplomacy skill guy) is the only one that does any talking with major NPCs. 2) one skill roll determines success or failure.

So, it's a team effort. Everyone should participate and everyone should try to offer something to what's going on. I'll do my best to better roleplay the NPCs; you all work on doing a bit of RP yourselves. I know you don't know all there is about the game world and such, but as I'm sure you can tell from what I've been doing, I'm ad libbing a great deal in the skill challenges anyway. So, if you make a history check and decide to describe that as reminding the ghost of the time the eladrin heroes saved some dwarves from an attack by giants . . . cool! Let's go with that!

So, I'll keep working on making the RP skill challenges better. Everyone needs to get involved. I think the non-RP ones went off very well.

Session Report: The Black Tablet - Recovery?

2008-07-06T21:05:00.002-05:00

The heroes descend into the darkness. Light from a pair of sunrods shows the way. The stairs lead downward some 20 feet or so and about 80 feet into the hillside where they terminate in a monstrous temple room. The room is sixty feet wide, over 100 feet long and lined with massive dwarf statues that act as pillars holding the ceiling some twenty feet overhead. A great dwarf statue approximately 14feet tall stands at the end of the room on a pedestal. A stone door stands on either wall about three forths of the way down.

The heroes make their way cautiously down the right hand side of the room. As Mizuni gets within about twenty feet of the statue its head turns to stare at him with a baleful look. The party halts and discusses the situation.

Dorin tries to sneak forward. He seems to be doing well, but when he reaches the door on the righthand wall the statue moves toward him menacingly. Battle is joined! At first the dwarves hope they can hold off the statue by calling on the name of Moradin. This seems unlikely to work as the statue lands massive blows with its axe on Dorrin and nearly kills him. Things turn desperate as the statue rampages into a group of the heroes knocking them about and both of the fighter and the paladin end up unconscious in the onslaught. Some well-timed healing and a bit of teamwork turn the tide. Eventually they bring the statue down.

Shaken a bit from the fight the heroes discuss their next moves. They consider resting for the day in this room, but decide to press onward. The doors to the left and right lead into passages that join again on the backside of the room and continue on a passage deeper into the mountain. The hallway ends at a stone door engraved with a dwarf's head. Two massive iron rings allow entry into the place.

Pulling on the rings they open the doors and find a smaller room beyond:

This room appears to be an inner temple of some sort. While smaller than the outer temple room before, the furnishings bear signs of great import. Similar statues act as great pillars holding up the ceiling about 15 feet above. The walls have frescoes carved on them; following the length of the walls you see the story of the dwarf people. One carving depicts a dwarf rising from a mountain and taking his place on a stone throne. Another fresco shows many dwarfs in chains as giants stand over them with whips. The next image is of a great battle: the dwarfs fight the giants and a single massive dwarf leads them against their foes. An image portrays a handful of dwarfs at work in a smithy and a faint image of the great dwarf from the battle looks over with a grim smile. In the final image, at the far end of the room, the dwarf god Moradin looks down on a group of dwarfs gathered in worship.

A small altar of stone stands in front of each image on the left and right walls. A larger altar fronts the back wall under the image of Moradin.

As the heroes make their way across the room a gruff and ghostly voice calls out, "Who disturbs this holy temple?" A transluscent figure of a dwarf rises from the greater altar on the far side of the room. "Speak quickly or you will suffer the righteous fury of Moradin!"

The heroes negotiate with the ghostly spirit, but to no avail. They cannot find the words or the means to convince it to help them on their quests. They decide to retire for the time being and make their way back to the entry chamber of the temple. There they close the outer doors to the temple and trust the magical doors to keep them safe from outsiders. They hope that they have the strength to handle any danger that the dwarf ghost sends their way.

Algea takes the watch as he meditates. The temperature grows noticeably colder, and fearful, he wakens Dorin to watch with him. They hear sounds of someone or something trying to break through the outer door into the temple, but they fear no attack from that way. The balance of the rest period passes uneventfully.

They head back to where they met the dwarf ghost the day before and check things out. The ghost makes an appearance, but does no attack or otherwise interfere with them. They find two secret doors in the far wall in the corners. They are only five feet wide and about seven feet tall.

They choose the door on the left. A narrow, cramped passage descends at an easy grade and passes some 100 feet deeper into the darkness. It opens onto a massive tomb some 200 feet long and 60 feet wide. Scores of coffins and sarcophagi cover much of the floor spaced evenly about every five feet.

The heroes spend a couple of hours searching the place. They do not disturb the tombs, but look only. Eventually they find one that is unusual. The runes on the coffin do not speak of the one iterred here, but instead speak of an unholy relic:

Here rests the unholy Black Tablet; may it lie here under guard for all eternity. May the many lives lost in its capture not be in vain. A curse upon any who would disturb this tomb or trouble with this most evil of relics.

Taken aback by this inscription, the party decides to leave it be for the time and search for the statuettes sought by Kharas Fireaxe. They return to the inner temple and take the righthand door. This door leads down into another tomb where they again find many coffins. Among the items and treasures here they find the two statuettes which they take with them.

Returning to the other tomb they further investigate. They discover magical runes on the coffin guarding the Black Tablet. Mizuni manages to disable them and then pries open the coffin. A blast of cold, dusty air sprays on his hands as he moves aside the coffin lid. Inside they see a swirling cold mist and a block of utter blackness, like the void of space, floating in the center of the coffin.

A great debate ensues, but no final decision is made. Should they take the tablet? Should they leave it? Should they collapse the temple to prevent others from getting to it? Should they try to disguise or hide where it is?

The debates rage on for quite some time. There is concern that taking the tablet away will bring some evil into the World. There is also concern that having penetrated to this point the heroes have stripped the tablet of its guardians.

No decision has yet been made. What should the heroes do?

Session Report: The Black Tablet - To The Dwarven Temple of Moradin

2008-07-06T21:00:00.000-05:00

Having reached Dalton's Camp, the heroes rest for a day and make preparations to journey into the mountains. They are joined by three of their friends from Berador: Fargrim a dwarf paladin of Moradin, Algea an eladrin wizard, and Drast a dragonborn warlord. Ekemon, upset that the party will not retrieve the Black Tablet for Lady Caer leaves the party.

They make the trek into the foothills of the White Mist Mountains. It is unseasonably cold, and steady rain falls as they head to the temple. They arrive near the temple around noon the next day. A small stream flows nearby and they use it as a trail towards the temple. A large band of kobolds ambushes them at the foot of a great hill.

The fight is fast and furious. Several well-armed and trained kobolds warriors leap forward and lay into Dorin. Blasts of magical fire from Algea clears the field of some of the kobolds. A great tussle forms along the front ranks as the heroes make their line of defense and face off with the kobold soldiers. A few of the kobolds hold back and pelt the party with sling shots and javelins.

Rather quickly the day is won. A lone kobolds makes an escape into the wooded hills, but the rest of the kobolds are destroyed.

The heroes make their way up the side of the hill to a ledge about fifteen or twenty feet wide and some thrity feet long. The flat face of the hillside here stands out as it seems to be a sold, flat peiece of stone, unmarked and uncovered by the vines and creepers that cover the rest of the hill. According to their map, this is the place.

Some searching and delving into their knowledge of the area and of dwarven temples leads them to a discovery: there is indeed a door here, but how to open it? Some arcane knowledge, a bit of thievery and history reveals a way in and they manage to trigger the opening mechanism. Two great slabs of stone about 15 ft wide and 20 ft tall pivot open silently as a puff of dusty air issues forth from the hole in the side of the hill. A wide staircase descends into darkness below.

Rumors and Such: The Black Tablet

2008-06-28T15:55:00.002-05:00

The current storyline focuses on an item of reputed power known as the Black Tablet. The heroes have gathered the following information about it:

Vardigas Asmos reports that the Black Tablet is relic of great power that will aid in the casting of a warding ritual which can be used to protect the town of Berador from gobling and kobolds.
Lady Caer Branloth concurs with this information, but she seems to be hiding additional information.
Vardigas Asmos has in his possession a book he calls the Tome of Evronkeep which reportedly gives the location of the Black Tablet as hidden in a lost dwarf temple in the White Mist Mountains northeast of Dalton.
Lady Caer Branloth agrees on these facts. She also has mentioned that the Tome of Evronkeep is of great interest to her because it is an ancient work from the early days of the fallen tiefling empire, Bael Turath.
The heroes recall conflicting stories about the power of the Black Tablet:
- It has the power to invoke a powerful warding spell.
- It has some power of influence of goblinoids and could be used to unite goblins.
- It was used in the orignal rites and rituals that created the tiefling race.
- It is part of a key to an extradimensional prison of some unknown sort and use.

Session Report: Rewards and Quests

2008-06-28T15:45:00.005-05:00

Rewards

The heroes received the following treasure and xp rewards for the last session.

XP: 254 each
Gold: 20 each
Magic Items: Cloak of Resistance +1 (Mizumi)

Quests

The heroes have been offered the following quests during the last session.

Find the Black Tablet
Major Quest: 500 xp
Vardigas Asmos will pay 120 gp for finding and returning to him the Black Tablet artifact rumored to be hidden in the abandoned dwarf temple in the mountains northeast of Dalton's Camp.
Find statuettes of Moradin
Minor Quest: 100 xp
Kharas Fireaxe has offered you an amethyst worth 100 gp and 20 gp for bringing him a pair of statuettes he believes are in the same dwarf temple.
Lady Caer's Offer
Major Quest: 500 xp
Lady Caer Branloth has offered to pay 120 gp and give a potion of healing for bringing to her the same Black Tablet that Vardigas Asmos wants.

Dalton's Camp

2008-06-28T14:45:00.000-05:00

Population: 400 year round; another 200 - 400 people will be in the area during seasons when the area is hospitable and work is available.

Government: Dalton's Camp has no government. It is a "gold rush" type town with little law and order. The Mining Consortium holds a great deal of power and manages many of the day-to-day activities of the place. Most people defer to Kharas Fireaxe and his fellows when disputes arise.

Defenses: There are not defenses to speak of. Most of the mining companies and merchants have mercenary warriors and guards to protect their interests, but there is no organized defense for the area. The town proper rests on an easily defendable hill behind a solid wooden palisade.

Inns/Taverns: For such a small town Dalton's Camp has more than its fair share of inns and taverns. Since few people live here year round, there is a lot of demand for temporary living space. There are three inns of moderate size and four different taverns. Some of the places cater to the people that work with specific mining companies. Rivalries among different companies and mercenaries makes for an unsteady peace when the wrong paths cross. As such, most people keep to "their" place in town.

The Silver Anvil: an inn with reasonable prices and mostly free of vermin (both humanoid and otherwise)
Dalton's Campsite: a large inn that caters mostly to people working with the Mining Consortium. It is somewhat more expensive than the other places in town, but offers reasonable security and privacy.
The Blue Bard: a moderately priced inn; the innkeepr at the Blue Bard requires application for residency at his place and turns away undesireables.

The Well: a lower class water hole. Fights are common in this place. Often rivals will purposely meet each other here to settle differences.
The Gray Goose: one of the better taverns in Dalton's Camp, owned by the Mining Consortium. All comers are welcome, but violence is quickly put down by the bruising bouncer.
Mallister's Place: this tavern caters to members of a few different trading companies. However, most are friendly enough with one another and "those other guys" generally stay out.
The Alehouse: another of the Mining Consortium's places in town. Trading companies that come here generally avoid Mallister's and the rivalry between the groups is quite unfriendly.

Trade: When the mines are operational Dalton's Camp produces a great deal of silver and iron from the hills. Some of the braver miners venture deeper into the mountains where veins of gold and gems can be found.

Supplies: There are three "general stores" in the town. Two are owned by the Mining Consortium and one is an independent outfit. Most of the goods are suitable for miners and merchant caravan guards. Adventurers will find most of their needs met here as well.

Temples: There are no temples in Dalton's Camp. In fact, there are no priests or religious folk of any sort to speak of.

Session Report: The Black Tablet - To Dalton's Camp

2008-06-28T14:26:00.000-05:00

Over the next few days the heroes meet again with Vardigas and tell him of their meeting with Lady Caer. Vardigas refuses to meet with her; he doesn't like her and doesn't trust her. They tell him that they believe she will use violence to achieve her ends and that if they bring the Black Tablet to him she will likely kill him to get it for herself.

Vardigas determines to meet with some of the other village elders to make arrangements for his own protection. Matters seem to be well in hand and the party decides to set out to find the Tablet. Vardigas advises them to meet Kharas Fireaxe, one of the leaders of the Mining Consortium of Dalton, to see if they can get information about the location of the temple.

In the meantime, Ighttor Branloth seeks out Ekemon in an effort to win him over to Lady Caer's cause. Ekemon doesn't want to betray his friends, but he feels somehow compelled to help his fellow tieflings. Ighttor tells him that Lady Caer will pay him half of the reward for the Black Tablet up front and that if he returns it to her she will see to it that he is well taken care of. Ekemon resists the temptation and Ighttor leaves with a final admonishment, "Don't forget your true blood, Brother."

The heroes prepare for their journey to Dalton's Camp. On the morning of their departure Ekemon finds on a table in the front room of his home a cloth sack with 60 gold coins in it and a note: "Remember your true loyalties - Brother." Ekemon hides most of the gold in his home, but takes five for himself and gives ten gold to Gerry Woodcote at the Temple of the Sun. He asks Gerry to keep the donation secret.

Trek to Dalton's Camp

The party sets out on the Road to Dalton. The journey takes about seven days on foot and is mostly uneventful . . . mostly. On the third day out from Berador a band of goblins of the Blackblade tribe attacks the heroes on the road. The goblins take the upper hand for a bit, but the strength and power of the heroes wins the day. The last few standing goblins attempt to flee after their leaders fall, but the heroes chase them down and destroy them. The heroes identify the goblins as members of the Blackblade tribe by the badges worn by the two leaders of the goblin band. This tribe has long been a threat in the area, but it has been some years since they openly attacked anyone this close to Berador. They find that one of the goblin leaders wears a magical cloak (cloak of resistance +1) which Mizuni takes for his own.

Kharas Fireaxe

On reaching Dalton's Camp the heroes immediately make for the Mining Consortium offices where they meet Kharas Fireaxe, a cousin of Bracken Fireaxe. He listens impatiently to their tale and their plan to liberate the Black Tablet from the dwarf temple. He offers them a map to the location of the temple, advises them to watch out for more goblins and asks them to return to him two dwarf statuettes of Moradin that he believes are in the temple. He offers them a reward of 20 gold and a amethyst worth 100 gold for bringing him the statuettes.

The heroes stay a day or so in Dalton and then get ready to set out to the temple.

Session Discussion: Skill Challenges

2008-06-28T12:12:00.002-05:00

So, it didn't quite go as planned. While I thought I had clever plans for use of skill challenges in the negotiations with Vardigas and Lady Caer, it didn't work out as well as I would have liked.

The missing piece, I think, was that I didn't make it clear that this is a skill challenge and here are your goals. I actually had laid out specific skills, DCs and results for success or failure. What I didn't have was a good way to convey that information to the players without just flatly stating, "You should make a diplomacy check to try to win the Lady Caer's favor and trust and she will tell you more." I'll work on that in the future.

Overall, I'm pleased with the progress we made. We played for a bit under four hours and we got through one combat encounter and three skill challenges and a farily good amount of role-play, introduction and information gathering.

The combat dragged a bit longer that I would have preferred, and for some reason seemed like it was just "tacked on" to the adventure, while it was in fact planned and has a purpose greater than just letting everyone roll dice and do damage. The combat was 900 xp, which is 150% of the xp for a normal encounter of six 1st level characters, but since I knew it was the only combat of the day, I wasn't worried about that.

Anyhow, so far, so good, or at least ok. Stay tuned for more recap of the first session.

Session Report: The Black Tablet - Introduction

2008-06-28T11:24:00.005-05:00

Spring: a time of renewal, a time of celebration and a time of festival. It is a chilly, wet morning as the sun peeks over the mountains to the east. Thin streamers of fog fade away, but low-hanging clouds threaten rain throughout the morning. It is Spring Morning in Berador, a time of reverence and celebration.

Villagers make a great work about the village green erecting tents, cooking up spring meals, and preparing for the Spring Morning festival. Gerry Woodcote makes his way among the people offering blessings and words of encouragement as they go about their muddy work.

By noontime most of the clouds have cleared and the rain has let up. A stiff breeze blows in from the west setting children's kites to flight. Wholesome aromas drift from the cook pots and the villagers gather to a fine meal. Tam Rivers makes a spectacle of himself, just like every year, telling tales in his blustery way. Some of the village elders gather in small knots to discuss business or pleasure as is their wont.

By mid afternoon the festival is well and truly underway. Games of chance and skill, drinking and eating, dancing and singing occupy the people's time. As if on cue a Traveling Carnival, the first since before the winter rolls into town. The combination of the Spring Morning festival and a Traveling Carnival brings more excitement to the tiny berg of Berador that the place has seen in years.

The Heroes

The heroes of the story are all long time residents of Berador and have been friends for many years. As the entire town has gathered for celebration, they each have a break from their normal labors and join the everyone else at the festival.

Varrin: male elf cleric of Bahamut (Jon)
Mizuni Umareru Feetskuttle: male halfling rogue (Michael)
Ekemon: male tielfling warlord (Zach)
Dorin Greyski: male human ranger (Matt)
Bracken Fireaxe: male dwarf fighter (Josh)
Katerin Liossa: female half-elf warlock (Rozanne)

The Job

A wizened, bent-backed figure makes his way toward you. Long, pointed ears poke out from behind a mass of stringy tangles of gray and white hair. He peers at you with cloudy gray over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his long, bulbous nose. He wears a recently patched, but still rather ragged old cloak and leans heavily on a gnarled wooden staff.

"Come, come, children, we must have words. It's very important," he waves to you with age-spotted hands, bent and twisted with age. He speaks in a high, melodious voice that shakes a bit with age "I may have a spot of work for you."

Everyone knows the ancient half-elf; he is Vardigas Asmos, a local seer and healer. The heroes agree to meet with him and head off to his home to speak privately.

You make your way into Vardigas's home. You've been here before, but it still amazes you to see the mass of books and trinkets and knickknacks littered about the place. A gold pocket watch rests on a workbench, forgotten among papers and candle drippings. A set of tiny carved stone men and beasts lie strewn among vials and inkpots and quills.

Vardigas leads you to a sitting room with several deep comfortable chairs arrayed around a central coffee table. On the table are scrolls, books, a leather boot with a hole in the toe and an ancient tabby cat that's missing one ear. "Please, have a seat and I'll bring it to you."

Vardigas makes his way up an iron spiral staircase situated in the corner of the room. In his absence you hear a rummaging in his "tower" above. A few minutes later he totters down the steps holding a book made of heavy dark leather. He flings aside the mess on the table, and the cat yowls in protest as it rushes out of the room. He lays the book on the table and opens it to some pages near the middle.

"This is the Tome of Evronkeep. I bought it from Aldaleem Applecart some months ago. He was in with the last Traveling Carnival before winter. I have only recently managed to decipher part of it. You would be amazed at the work I had to – well, never mind that; you don't care."

"My point is that I have found information that speaks of a relic of great power hidden in an abandoned dwarf temple in the White Mist Mountains. If my reading is correct the temple lies not far from Dalton's Camp. The relic, according to this Tome, holds the secret to a ritual of protection that will guard the whole village against any enemy. I want this relic. I can use this ritual to protect the people of Berador from the goblins and kobolds that raid here in the hard times. What do you say?"

Looking over the book you can make no sense of the writing in it.

The heroes look over the book and question Vardigas about it at length. They discuss the matter among themselves and struggle to recall any information about the abandoned dwarf temple, the Tome of Evronkeep or this mysterious Black Tablet. They make little progress, but agree to set out as soon as possible to find and return with this relic that Vardigas might use to set a ward over the village.

They make their way back to the village green to rejoin the festival which will continue throughout the night.

The Counter Offer

A well-dressed, dark-skinned man approaches you. The great ram-like horns on his head and the long tail trailing behind him mark him instantly as a tiefling. His deep red eyes and dark hair mark him as one of the Branloth clan. You know him; he is Ighttor Branloth, one of Lady Caer's many grandsons.

"If it please you, my friends, the Lady Caer would ask a word with you at your convenience. She has made arrangements for tomorrow evening and would very much wish to have you to dinner.”

They agree to meet with Lady Caer for dinner the next evening. They spend the rest of the evening and much of the early morning (or very late night) in the Spring Morning festival. A few hangovers, a fine breakfast and a rest during the day see them through to the early evening.

You arrive at the Branloth manor in the early evening. It is a cool and cloudy evening, a bit chilly for spring with a bit of fog rolling in from the Greywood to the north. At the outer gates two tieflings stand guard and nod you through without a word. A cobblestone path lined with precisely manicured hedges leads from the Road through a well-trimmed acre of yard dotted with pecan trees to the front porch of the manor house. Oil lamps light the path every twenty feet or so.

The Branloth manor is a dash of old world luxury in the rustic fabric of Berador. The front of the house sports a wrap-around porch decorated with a handful of marble and stone statuettes, several potted plants of various sorts and a finely appointed set of outdoor chairs from which one could sit peacefully and bask in the serenity of the gorgeous landscape.

As you move up the steps the front door opens and a tiefling dressed in the same livery as the front gate guards bids you welcome. He shows you in to a sitting room, where you find finger foods and fine wine laid out for you. "Please, make yourselves comfortable and feel free to have a bit of the refreshments. Dinner will be served within the hour, and your host will arrive shortly."

The adventurers take to the refreshments and await their host.

The door opens and a tall, elegant tiefling woman enters. Her blue-black hair is swept back and knotted tightly in a ponytail behind her head accentuating her long, angular facial features. Her near black eyes blaze with a bit of deep red or orange when they catch the light just right as if smoldering embers hide behind them. She wears a stylish purple robe and soft velvet slippers that whisper as they brush the floor.

"Thank you ever so much for coming, my friends. I trust the food and drink pleases you?"

Dinner is served. A whole roasted pig with a full arrangement of vegetables, fruits, drinks of all sorts, salads and bread pours from the kitchens. It is an exceptionally fine meal and Lady Caer makes for a fine hostess. She spends the meal in small talk, discussing minor items of interest and carefully splitting her time evenly among her guests. She knows all of them and seems to know a little about their doings.

When eveyone has had their fill the servants take the remains of dinner and serve fine after dinner cordials, a delicate pie with a hint of lemon and coffee.

"Well, that was most pleasant, but now to business." Lady Caer looks over each of you in turn, measuring and weighing your worth. "I have it on good information that the sage Vardigas has sought you out to aid him in a quest." She pauses expectantly, "I trust that he told you there may be other interested parties?"

Somewhat taken aback by the tiefling's directness, the heroes are momentarily stunned. They then "get to business" as she says.

Lady Caer hints that the Black Tablet may serve a greater purpose than that which Vardigas understands. She wants it for herself and will indeed use it to lay a ward of protection on the village. Her manner, while polite and kindly, somehow puts the heroes off. They do not trust her and feel that she has some ulterior motive. They discuss the matter at some length, and she further reveals that she wants also Vardigas's book, the Tome of Evronkeep. She claims it is an ancient work from the early days of the tiefling empire.

Even though Lady Caer sweetens the pot the heroes have no interest in working for her. The offer of gold and a potion of healing is not enough to overcome their suspicion that she is up to something. They point out that if she and Vardigas both have the same goal of protecting the village, would it not be better if they worked together. Lady Caer is dismissive of the idea and of Vardigas. She has no confidence that the tottering old fool can handle the magic in the Tablet.

The heroes take their leave, agreeing to meet with Lady Caer and Vardigas together to discuss the matter and only then will they take action.

To be continued . . .

Ford: Town Guide and Recent History

2008-06-22T18:44:00.007-05:00

The current year is 292 of the New Age. This date tracks from the Purge and the fall of the Oshland Empire. The events of the preview adventure, the Keep on the Shadowfell, happened seventy-five years ago. In that time a powerful evil force rose in the lands around the old keep and the town of Ford. King Mark Winland II sent a force to deal with the undead forces of Orcus, but he was unable to establish his hold on the lands. The people of Ford, grateful for deliverance from their enemies, had no desire to submit to a new king. Rather than force a fight among civilized people the king in Roth withdrew his troops from the region.

Over the years Ford has withdrawn from the world. What little trade that followed the old road through the town has turned to a minor trickle. Once each season or so an intrepid halfling band may make its way up the river from Berador to Ford, but as there is little to gain in trade with the backward town, these trips have become more scouting expiditions that actual merchanting.

Rumors claim that a cult of Orcus maintains a presence in the area, and that this cult works to isolate Ford from the rest of the world. While there is no hard evidence to support this belief, it persists among many people. It is a fact that some travelers venturing to Ford never return, and that inquiries yield little or no information about the missing people.

Ford

Population: 1,200; mostly human farmers around the outskirts of the town.

Government: Lord Paedrig II, an ancient human who has ruled the town and its environs for over fifty years since his father's death. Lord Paedrig keeps to himself and has little actual control over the events around town. As the place has sunk into a tiny farming community with little contact with other towns and villages his "rule" is not strictly necessary.

Defense: Ford sits atop a hill rising out of the forest and farmland in the area and has a tall stone wall circling the town proper. A tiny contingent of twenty men-at-arms serve as wall guards, police and patrol. They report directly to Lord Paedrig.

Inns/Taverns: Wrafton's Inn is the only public ale house and rooms for rent in the town. The place has been handed down for generations in the Wrafton family. It is a decrepit hole in the wall tavern with a dozen cramped rooms for rent to the rare traveler in town.

Trade: The people of Ford are mostly self-sufficient. What little surplus food they produce is stored in community grainaries. On rare occassions Lord Paedrig will draw some of the surplus for trade with the few merchants that make their way to Ford. He will purchase needed items and occassionally some luxury items for distribution to the people.

Supplies: Supplies are hard to come by in Ford. The handful of craftsmen are kept busy supplying the farmers and Lord Paedrig's guards. Some minor items can be found for trade, but weapons, armor and such are absolutely unavailable. Horses might be purchased from a farmer, but the cost would be extreme.

Temples: A single temple dedicated to Bahamut stands in the center of town. The townsfolk will whisper prayers to other gods in the temple on occassion, but the only organized services are led by an acolyte of Bahamut.

Session Report: Keep on the Shadowfell - Chapter Four

2008-06-15T09:45:00.003-05:00

WARNING: spoilers for Keep on the Shadowfell abound in this post. Stop reading now if you plan to play this module.

Having cleared the second level of the dungeons under the ruins of Shadowfell Keep the heroes pressed onward. Delving deeper into the passages below they found a room with curious statues: a massive stone man wearing plate armor and wielding a greatsword, two dragons and four cherubs decorated an otherwise empty room. Venturing in they quickly triggered the traps! The great swordsman statue swung its weapon in a massive arc and knocked Berro to the ground. The rest of the party more cautiously charted a path around the statue and pelted it from range. A final shot from Moob dashed the statue into rubble on the floor.

In the deep south of the room Kahlashtar triggered the next trap in wide alcove cornered by the four cherub statues. A wall of force sprung up blocking him into the alcove as the cherubs began to pour water into the place. Once it reached about five feet deep it began to swirl in a great counterclockwise motion slamming the paladin into the statues. As this happened Moob used mage hand and great deal of direction from Rik to disable two of the statues. Kahlashtar managed to get a grip on one of the statues and topple it to the floor. The wall of force vanished and the water rushed out into the larger room, pushing the heroes across the way. Berro, again the target of a trap, fell too close to one of the dragon statues which blasted him with a wave for force and knocked him across the room.

The heroes licked their wounds and moved onward. In the next chamber they encounterd a horde of undead. Moob's blasts of fire, massive strikes from Kahlashtar, cleaving strikes from Berro and a well timed prayer on the part of Stadir felled the evil creatures, but not before the small clay construct that lurked in the place made a mad dash for a still deeper level.

Thinking it unwise to wander into the lower level with an enemy sentry ahead of them, the heroes checked one last passage on the second level that they had thus far avoided. It was nearly their undoing. A large gelatinous cube swept up more than half of the party and nearly destroyed them, but Kahlashtar's sword, Rik's dagger and a mighty blast of fire from Moob destroyed the thing. In the meantime, two creeping zombies ambushed Stadir. He managed to turn them and the heroes pursued and laid them low. Collecting their breath the heroes decided to call it a day and return on the morrow. They made the trek back to Ford uneventfully.

In Ford they learned from Lord Paedrig that the dead were walking in the nearby graveyard. A quick sweep of the place cleared it of the weak zombies and netted a bonus: they killed the elf ranger, Ninaran, who appears to have been a spy for a leader of the cult worshiping Orcus. The leader, Kalarel, was at work on some ritual beneath the ruins of Shadowfell Keep. The heroes determined to put a stop to his evil once and for all.

Setting out the next day they quickly entered the keep and made their way to the lower levels. Beneath the rotting room of undead they had dispatched the day before they found a temple with great streams of blood and a mass of enemies. The adventurers laid into the priest and his underlings with abandon. There was a mighty struggle for a bit as the evil priest landed wicked blows of necrotic energy and his minions fought with an unimagined bloodlust, but the heroes won the day . . . or did they? As the evil priest fell the sole remaining enemy, a creature of shadow, vanished from their midst with a cry, "I must warn the master!."

Having mistaken the underpriest for the true leader, the heroes bravely pressed onward. In the center of the temple was a pit into which streams of blood flowed. Chains slick with gore descended into the depths below. The heroes plunged downwards, some literally, who slipped on the chains and fell into a deep pool of blood.

The priest of Orcus, Kalarel, and his underlings launched an immediate attack. Two skeletal warriors and the priest laid Khalashtar low while a dark wight immobilized Mizz. The heroes moved to Khalashtar's aid, got him on his feet and began the counter attack. Things seemed to be going quite well. The evil priest, bloodied and fleeing, made his way towards the dark portal in the north of the room. Stadir called on the power of his diety to turn the skeletons away while the warriors knocked Karlarel to the ground a surrounded him. That was when things turned.

The dark wight, no longer content with pelting the heroes from a distance raced across the room with unholy speed and revealed its horrid visage. Terrified of this evil being the heroes dropped their guard and fled away from it. That was the chance that Kalarel needed. Leaping to his feet he raced to the unholy circle in front of the portal to the Shadowfell where his defenses were stronger and the unholy energy infused him and his followers with power. The skeletal warriors, recovered from the power unleashed by Stadir pressed foward. The heroes made their way to the unholy circle of power.

Again the dark wight faced the heroes and its twisted, demonic heritage struck them with terror. They raced away . . . towards the dark portal. A great groping hand lashed out and seized Kahlashtar, pulling him into the void. The skeletons, the wight and the priest then concentrated their efforts on single enemies until each fell or was forced through the portal to feed the hungry beast that waited beyond.

Finally, only Moob and Stadir standing, they turned to flee. The skeletal warriors flanked Stadir and cut him down in the pool of blood. Moob managed to make it to the chains and begin his ascent, but a final bolt of dark energy from the evil priest struck him down and he fell to his doom.

The heroes failed to stop the dark priest of Orcus in his unholy rite. What evil will he unleash on the world? What will become of Ford and the surrounding area? The Oshland Empire has long since crumbled, and no army awaits the undead that will surely flow from the Shadowfell this time. Who will avenge the fallen heroes and right these wrongs? Who will defend the people?

Who indeed . . .

Session Report: Keep on the Shadowfell - Chapter Three

2008-06-08T17:24:00.000-05:00

WARNING: spoilers for Keep on the Shadowfell abound in this post. Stop reading now if you plan to play this module.

Having defeated the goblins in the upper level under the ruins of Shadowfell Keep the heroes set off to find what's going on farther underground. They freed a goblin prisoner who told them to watch out for undead and a human who was running things as well as hobgoblin soldiers.

Heading for the lower levels the party met with a pack of zombies. Initially things went very well, but when another group of zombies showed up from behind the wizard things looked grim. Stadir's ability to turn undead saved the day.

They then ventured further south into a crypt. The crypt held numerous sarcophogi with symbols of Bahamut on them. As they made their way down the hall the coffins opened up and skeletons sprang forth. The skeletons fell quickly to the heroes, but more continued to pour out of the sarcophogi. After two such waves of skeletons, Kahlashtar moved to an altar of Bahamut and offered a prayer. No more skeletons attacked after that.

Venturing deeper into the tomb they found a single coffin resting on a raised dais. Inspecting the place Moob discovered that it was the resting place of Sir Keegan, the last commander of the keep. As the heroes turned to leave the place the coffin burst open and Sir Keegan demanded to know their business here! After some tense moments, the heroes managed to convince the skeletal warrior that their mission here matched Sir Keegan's goals. They will work to stop the cult of Orcus who has invaded the keep. Sir Keegan gives to Khalashtar his magical sword to aid him in his battles against evil.

North of where they met the zombies, the heroes find a maze with numerous fear ward traps. After triggering several of them, they manage to find a way through the place. Rik finds a secret door in one corner of the maze behind which they find an armory guarded by zombies. A fierce battle ends with the zombies lying in a heap and the heroes looking over the contents of the armory. A magical voice speaks to them and asks a riddle. Without a moment's hesitation Stadir answers the riddle correctly and the heroes receive a magical suit of scale armor as reward.

A long flight of steps downward takes the heroes into the hobgoblin domains. They fight a long and fierce battle against a large band of hobgoblins and their spider pet. It was a tough battle, but the heroes prevail. They decide to take a rest from battles and return to the hidden armory room where they rest overnight.

Venturing back into the hobgoblin domain they find the entry room where they fought the first hobgoblins fortified. A mass of hobgoblins hides behind tables and other gear and pelts them with arrows as they make their way down. The heroes win another hard fought victory.

Continuing onward they make their way to the hobgoblin warchief's chambers. Their they fight the warchief and his minions. The fight goes poorly for Mizz who the warchief seems to take a particular disliking to, but otherwise things work out well. Afterwards the heroes loot the place and recover a mass of gold and a magical short sword.

Well ready for more adventuring the heroes prepare to make their way past the hobgoblin domain and to whatever horrors wait below near the Shadowrift . . .

XP Earned: eh, I don't remember; you're all 3rd level
Loot: a goodly amount of gold and Sir Keegan's +1 longsword called Aecris, a +1 vicious short sword and a suit of +1 blackiron scale armor.

Wonders of the World

2008-06-07T18:15:00.003-05:00

The civilized peoples of Greyshad have founded great empires and kingdoms over the centuries. Some of these empires rose to magnificent heights of power that few today can imagine. In those times of wonder and greatness people constructed marvels that stand today long after the empires that gave them birth have fallen to ruin.

The Black Temple of Bael Turath

In ancient times the humans of the continent-spanning empire called Bael Turath sought alliances with dark powers to further their own conquest of the World. They made dark pacts with rebellious devils who would use them to bring down their lord, Asmodeus. From the dark rituals and unholy unions was born the tiefling race.

The tieflings constructed The Black Temple, a twisted and horrifying edifice, on the site where they performed their original rites. The fall of Bael Turath after the war with the dragonborn nation of Arkhosia wrought destruction throughout the tiefling empire. Rumors persist that the Black Temple still stands in the desolation of the fallen capital, and that within its walls great secrets and powerful magic await those hardy enough to brave the dangers of the temple.

Draconis

The dragonborn once held a great empire called Arkhosia. Arkhosia fell to ruin after its long war with the tiefling empire, Bael Turath. While most of the works of the dragonborn are long lost, ancient myths speak of the great momument called Draconis.

Draconis is a massive, lifelike statue of a dragon standing over 300 feet tall in the heart of the devastated capital of Arkhosia. Some claim that the statue is no statue at all, but is actually a colossal dragon of untold age who has slept for centuries. Further stories, whispered by some of the more wistful of dragonborn, claim that this great dragon will awaken some day and that at that time it will lead the dragonborn to their rightful place of dominion over the World.

The Great Pyramid of Thunas Shulael in Thalrabia

The desert nomads of Thalrabia once revered god-kings who walked among them. The first and greatest of the god-kings was Thunas Shulael who commanded his people to construct a great pryamid to hold his earthly remains when he ascended to the heavens. The slaves and people of Thalrabia labored for decades to complete the 500 foot tall structure and buried Thunas Shulael's deep within its most secret chambers after his death.

For over a century the god-kings continued to rule the people of Thalrabia and as each ascended to the heavens the people interred them with past god-kings. While the Thalrabian Empire has long collapsed, and the god-kings have left the people, this monument to their greatness stands to this day as the largest single construction in the World. Untold treasures and secrets are buried deep within its chambers. Untold numbers of would-be grave robbers have entered it and not lived to tell of the wonders or horrors they saw.

Rhakorarl

In ancient days, after Moradin freed the dwarfs from the giants who enslaved them, the dwarfs gathered in a great kingdom somewhere in the White Mist Mountains. For several hundred years they lived, worshipped and traded from their orignal city of Rhakorarl.

Over the centuries the city grew to enormous size. Its massive gates, built into the side of the mountain, are said to stand over 30 feet tall and are enchanted to prevent enemies from entering. The streets and highways of Rhakorarl burrow miles deep into the mountain where once over 30,000 dwarfs and their fellows lived.

The city is lost now. Giants, seeking vengeance on the dwarfs of old, attacked with aid from some force of the Underdark. The dwarfs fled the city when the battle was lost. They have since spent their lives, for generations, wandering the world. The dwarfs establish cities and kingdoms from time to time, and some of those kingdoms may stand for a few hundred years, but they are all pale imitations of Rhakorarl which the dwarfs hope to find and restore one day.

The Silver Tower of High Sorcery in Kray City

At the height of the Oshland Empire the greatest wizards of the world called the capital of the empire, Kray City, home. Here they built a tower which served as their college and fortress. For over two centuries The Silver Tower of High Sorcery stood as a beacon of learning and high magic in the world.

The Great Slaughter of Kray City and the Purge ended the Tower's dominance of magic. While the Tower still stands as a shining finger pointing at the sky amidst the wreckage of Kray City, none who seek it can reach it. The crater and black pit at the heart of the city spews forth horrors from unknown realms that destroy any who approach.

The Water Gardens of Greymont

The savage barabarians of the Ice Forests of Grelmire have built a single, peculiar work of magnificent art that stands in stark juxtaposition to their warlike ways. Greymont is the closest thing to a city in the Ice Forests. It is a sacred and holy place of peace among the barbarians. Situated in its center are the Water Gardens of Greymont.

Ice sculptures, fountains and ever-blooming winter roses cover over an acre of land in an awe-inspiring arrangement. Paths crisscross the garden where the people of Grelmire may wander in the beauty of their Gardens. Most holy among these savage people are the druids called Keepers of the Garden who tend to the site and ensure its perpetual peace and beauty never fades.

The World Tree of the Silverine

In the early years, before the elves, eladrin and drow were sundered into distinct races, they reached through the veil the divides the Feywild from the World and planted the World Tree. They tended the sapling as it grew for over 2,000 years into the wonder that it is today. The World Tree stands some 1,500 feet tall and spreads its boughs over several square miles of land.

After the races split away, the elves of the Silverine Forest continued to tend to and revere the World Tree. Then the Terror came which drove all elves from the city of Elderon where the Tree stands. The elves claim the Tree must still live else all elves over the World would have died of sorrow. The Terror that haunts the Silverine also guards the Tree and none have seen it for over a thousand years.

The Greywood Wardens

2008-06-07T15:02:00.003-05:00

The Greywood Wardens have protected the civilized people around Berador and the surrounding villages for generations. Their origin, forgotten by most in the mists of history, lies in the dark days shortly before the Purge.

The Oshland Empire, near the height of its power, had recently ended one of its endless wars with Palacia. During the war the king of Oshland had sent troops and a governor to Berador to establish his hold there and to enlist more soldiers for the war. The people of the area refused to serve in the army and fought against conscription. Having settled his business with Palacia, the king turned a vengeful eyes towards Berador and the villages in the area.

Soldiers of the Oshland Empire arrived en masse and slaughtered any who did not flee before them. A human woodsman and hunter, Tonrad Heniz, who knew the forests of the Greywood well, led many survivors and refugees into the forests. There he rounded up the few men willing and able to fight and spent many months fighting a guerrilla war against the Oshlander soldiers.

The Great Slaughter of Kray City and the Purge ended the Oshlander's conquest in the region. The Oshland Empire collapsed into ruin, and the soldiers, with no orders from the capital, turned to brigandage and rapine. Leaderless and orderless the soldiers fell before the combined wrath of the newly formed Greywood Wardens and the villagers who wanted their lands back.

Later the Greywood Wardens provided protection to travelers and farmers in the area and over the years they have become the de facto police force in the area. They patrol the roads from far south and west near North Roth up to Dalton's Camp in the north east. They follow the narrow tracks along the Blue Wash from Ford in the north and down to Treefall in the south. The vast majority of people in the area recognize a debt that can never be paid, and it's a rare household that cannot find a bed and warm meal for a Warden who stops by for the night.

Session Report: Keep on the Shadowfell - Chapter Two

2008-06-01T03:05:00.000-05:00

WARNING: spoilers for Keep on the Shadowfell abound in this post. Stop reading now if you plan to play this module.

Having rescued Douven Staul from ruffians, the heroes return to Ford for a night of rest. The next morning they set out for the keep. They head east down the old dwarf trade highway. The road, little used in the last many years, is overgrown in places and the trees tower over it menacingly. Some miles and a couple of hours east of Ford they come to a narrow track the branches off of the main road to the south. According to their information this is where they will find the keep.

As they head down the track the woodland sounds fade and the area becomes deathly silent. They come to a clearing where lies the ruins of the old keep. In the clearing bare earth lies exposed to the sun. Not a single blade of grass grows in the area, and the fallen walls and towers of the keep look like the playthings of giants tossed aside. Someone or something has cleared a narrow trail through the wreckage to a hole in the ground in the center of the rubble. A set of stairs heads into the darkness below.

History

Moob recalls stories of old about the keep. Centuries ago a temple of great evil stood at this very spot. The temple guarded a rift to the Shadowfell. A cult dedicated to the Demon prince Orcus performed dark rituals to open the rift into a part of the Shadowfell controlled by Orcus. Hordes of fell undead poured forth from the rift and ravaged the land. For months the foul creatures slaughtered without mercy.

Eventually the king of the Oshland Empire sent a legion east to deal with the undead menace and to destroy the cult. After hard fought battles and many lives lost the men of Oshland prevailed. They drove the cultists underground and sealed the Rift. They built a mighty fortress, the Keep on the Shadowfell, over the site to guard it and prevent others from ever opening the Rift.

Some time later, still over two hundred years ago, the Oshland Empire collapsed during the Purge. No one knows exactly what happened, but the Keep on the Shadowfell was abandoned. Over time the place fell into ruin.

Into Darkness

From signs of footprints in the area the heroes discover that some creatures have entered the chambers underneath the old keep. What foul creatures wait beneath the earth, and what evil plans do these creatures have?

The party makes its way down into the ground. Rik sneaks ahead and scouts out the entry chamber. He comes on a large room with great pillars holding up the ceiling. On the far side of the room a lone goblin stands alert. Rik stealthily makes his way over to the goblin and plunges his dagger into the creature's back. The fight is on!

Other goblins approach from the south and east as the heroes charge in to Rik's side. Berro falls into a hidden pit in the center of the guard room and is set upon by a swarm of rats. Stadir quickly pulls Berro out of the pit and the heroes fight a running battle down the southern and eastern hallways. They make quick work of the goblins except one who escapes down a passage to the east.

The Excavation Site

After a quick rest the heroes follow after the fleeing goblin. Down some stairs and farther east they find him and some more of his comrades with guard drakes in a huge chamber that has been dug up.

A dramatic fight occurs as the heroes plough into the enemies. Things look grim as the pair of guard drakes corner Berro and bring him down. A bit of healing and luck gets him back on his feet. Mizz, Rik, and Kahlashtar leap off of the platform at the entry to the room and engage the goblins on the ground. Moob blasts a lot of them with fire. Within a minute or so the goblins and their pets are down.

A quick search of the place uncovers a bit of gold and silver coins, some mining tools and a dirt-encrusted +1 Symbol of Battle that is holy to Bahamut. Stadir takes the holy symbol to aid him in his battle prayers.

Maze of Caves

Heading back towards the entrance, the adventurers make a quick detour to the south, down some stairs and into some roughly hewn caverns. There they encounter a large pack of giant rats and a ghastly ochre jelly. The heroes down the rats with relative ease, but the oozing jelly nearly undoes them. It breaks off into two separate pieces and things look pretty bad. Some well-timed attacks and a masterful Lead the Attack by Mizz saves the day.

The heroes poke around for a bit, but abandon the area, and the keep entirely, after recovering from their wounds. They return to Ford to rest for the night and consider their plans.

The Goblin Chieftain

The next day they return to the keep. As they move into the entrance a goblin guard spies them and runs off to the west. Several of the heroes attack, but only Mizz can land a telling blow. The goblin escapes . . . but to where and to what end?

The heroes pursue can come to a long chamber with three doors going north, east and west. The quickly search what appears to be a trash heap to the west and then head east.

Rik attempts to sneak down the passage east, but he stumbles and alerts the goblin guards ahead. One of them calls out for aid and a fierce fight begins as nearly a dozen goblins, including their chief, Balgron the Fat, spill into the room.

Coordinated action and working together the heroes win the day, but not before Balgron and one of his lackeys runs off farther to the east and disappear. A search of the area turns up a locked chest which Rik manages to open. They recover several hundred gold coins and a +1 Magic Wand which Moob claims.

The Torture Chamber

A search of the chieftain's lair reveals a secret door that leads into a passage south. It makes a great loop back to the guard room. The heroes return to the room with three doors and make their way into a chamber of horrors. Evil torture devices, a massive fire pit and goblins fill the room.

Balgron, the goblin chief, several of his followers, and a big hobgoblin brute await them. Khalashtar and Berro guard the door as the rest of the heroes take shots at the goblins from behind them. Things begin to look pretty bad for the adventurers when Khalashtar falls to wounds from Balgron and the hobgoblin. A bit of healing and some mighty blows win the day. The goblins, including the great chief are slain.

The heroes search the place and discover a bit of gold and magical +1 Bloodcut Hide Armor on the hobgoblin. Mizz takes the armor and they split the gold.

Heading west the heroes find three cells. In one of the cells they find a goblin named Splug. He thanks them for saving him and shows them all about the goblin lair, which the heroes have already seen. He is most impressed with their skills and is gratious for them rescuing him. He tells them of the rats and the ooze in the maze and is further impressed when they tell him they killed the ooze.

Splug also tells the heroes of a man with dark hair, pale skin and pale eyes who came to Balgron and brought him here. The adventurers surmise that this man is a servant of some evil power, most probably Orcus. Splug says the goblins never go deeper into the caverns, but he warns them of undead and hobgoblins who protect and serve the human.

Session ends. We'll resume here next week as the heroes venture deeper into the caverns beneath the Keep on the Shadowfell.

XP Earned: 650 (level up!)
Loot: 175 gold each; +1 Symbol of Battle, +1 Magic Wand, +2 Bloodcut Hide Armor, Potion of Healing.

Berador

2008-05-26T12:47:00.007-05:00

Berador, a small farming and fishing village, lies at the intersection of the Blue Wash River running north to south and the Old Trade Road running east-west. Inside the wooden palisade surrounding the village proper adventurers can find several shops and craftsmen. Farmsteads and ranches dot the countryside around Berador for several miles in all directions.

Lake Callie, a small, but deep lake, forms in a valley just outside of town to the south, and the Blue Wash tumbles out of it over falls heading south to the River Elba and the town of Port Eben. Berador acts as a center of trade for the many small towns and villages within about one hundred miles as it sits at a convenient crossroads.

Berador produces mainly farm goods including roots, vegetables and some rare fruits as well as cattle and swine. Some locals also work in timber trade from the Greywood nearby.

Berador

Population: 300; another 1200 or so live in the surrounding farmlands and forests. The majority of the inhabitants are human and halfling, with a substantial number of dwarfs in town. Three elf enclaves have forest holds around the village and an eladrin village nestles deep in the Greywood. A smattering of tielfing and dragonborn call the area home.

Government: Berador has no government, per se. Several of the more respected locals make decisions for their own people, and often they will meet en masse to work out any problems that the village must face as one.

Some of the village elders/leaders include: Amil Greyski, Bull Emmett, Caer Branloth, Fenesin Lumiya, Reginald Dampero, Rodrik Vesash, Tamil Rivers, Ulfgar Fireaxe.

Defense: A dragonborn warrior by the name of Jadestar Kaldoran acts as an unoffical sheriff. The Greywood Wardens, who number around five dozen, patrol the Road in both directions for about 100 miles. The elf band called the Foresters keeps watch around the elf holds.

Inns/Taverns: The Maple House, owned and operated by Tamil Rivers, is the only public house in the village. It has a handful of rooms for rent and a large common are for local gatherings.

Trade: This farming community produces an excess of roots, vegetables and some fruits. Fish and timber are also significant exports from Berador. Numerous Traveling Carnivals pass through town each year providing exotic and luxury goods in exchange for farm goods and the crafted goods of the locals

Supplies: The Fireaxe clan of dwarfs provide many locally crafted goods for trade and often have exotic fair on hand as well. The halfling river traders bring in all types of things from far and wide. The local craftsmen have goods for trade as well.

Temples: Temple of the Sun (Pelor); the only temple in town is dedicated to Pelor and the local priest serves the same. The Temple of the Sun is open to all goodly people to worship and celebrate as they see fit.

Hit Points, Healing Surges and Second Wind

2008-05-25T13:27:00.002-05:00

So, one of the players expressed some concern/frustration with the second wind ability last night. I think part of the confusion comes from what exactly hit points, healing surges and the second wind ability represent.

Hit points indicate a character's hardiness, health and moxie. When a character loses hit points the character has not necessarily taken any wounds. Look at lost hit points as fatigue, minor wounds, missed footing, and other impediments to combat performance.

When a character loses half of his/her hit points s/he becomes bloodied and has taken some significant wound or suffered a major injury. At this point losing more hit points indicates loss of blood from previous wounds, more fatigue and a general deterioration of abilities.

At zero hit points a character is unconscious and dying. The final attack that put the character below one hit point indicates some serious injury like a major concussion, a bloody wound or other damage that will result in death if no one tends to the character.

Healing surges replenish hit points. Typically a healing surge will replenish 1/4 of the character's total hit points. This number may be modified by various powers. A healing surge delivered by a cleric's or paladin's healing powers indicates divine intervention to sew up wounds, restore confidence and/or provide a burst of energy. A warlord's Inspiring Word power replenishes hit points as the warlord's commands and encouragement restores the target's confidence or grants him new found reserves of strength or stamina.

The second wind ability allows any character to restore 1/4 of his/her own hit points. Think of the second wind ability as the character taking a deep breath and reassessing the situation. You can also imagine your character as a hero in a movie: when the hero takes a punishing kick to the face he topples to the ground and the action pauses. Suddenly the hero rises to fight again, his stamina and grit renewed as he remembers what he is fighting for or against. A hero can only reach into this inner reserve of strength once during a single encounter.

The hit point number on a character sheet represents the static amount of abuse that a character can take in a short period of time before being in mortal danger. You can also think of hit points as a measure of plot immunity. That is, your character has a certain level of ability to avoid injury and death because s/he is the star of the movie. So until hit points are depleted s/he is immune to real danger from the bad guys. It takes a series of attacks from multiple enemies to put the hero in a really bad situation.

Healing surges represent the ability of a character to ignore minor wounds, recover from fatigue and otherwise restore his/her reserves of strength and stamina to fight on against all odds. Even this power has limits, which is represented by the total number of healing surges available to the character per day.

In a given encounter a character's hit points will be depleted and replenished as s/he suffers from the attacks of his/her enemies and recovers with the aid of his/her comrades or the use of his/her own second wind ability. Over a full day of adventuring the number of times a character can withstand assaults by enemies is regulated by the total number of healing surges s/he has available.

Hit points are an encounter resource. Healing surges are a daily resource. The second wind ability is the character's personal reserve of stamina that can be used once per encounter to persevere against danger.

Session Report: Keep on the Shadowfell - Chapter One

2008-05-25T02:00:00.003-05:00

WARNING: spoilers for Keep on the Shadowfell abound in this post. Stop reading now if you plan to play this module.

King Mark Winland II, interested in expanding the influence of his kingdom, hired a hardy band of adventurers to seek out information in and around the village of Ford many leagues to the north. He had previously sent an envoy, Douven Staul, to see what he could learn. Douven should have returned long ago. Now brave heroes make their way to Ford to learn of Douven's fate and to continue his mission.

The Heroes

The heroes include:

Stadir: half-elf cleric of Bahamut (Jon)
Rik: halfling rogue (Jeff)
Mizz: tiefling warlord (Zach)
Moob: human wizard (Michael)
Kahlashtar: dragonborn paladin (Matt)
Berro: dwarf fighter (Rozanne)

On the Road: Kobold Brigands

The party has been on the road for weeks traveling to the village of Ford. They have a general idea of its location and expect to reach it late in the afternoon. About mid-afternoon Rik calls a halt to the band as he spots some rusty-skinned lizard-like creatures skulking about in the rocks and trees near the road. Seeing that their ambush has been foiled the kobolds leap into action.

The dragonmen march forward toward their foes. Two slingers hang back a bit as the warriors charge forward. Moob fires off a spell and fells one of the weaker warriors and Kahlashtar charges forward. A bloody mess ensues. The kobolds hammer at the dragonborn as his comrades pick their way forward to his aid. Berro and Mizz crash into the kobolds as Rik manuevers into an advantageous position.

The mass of kobolds surrounding the paladin bring him down, but a prayer to Bahumut from Stadir and an encouraging word from Mizz get him back on his feet. A bloody minute later and kobold corpses litter the roadside.

The heroes take a brief break to tend to wounds, loot the bodies of their fallen enemies and then continue their journey.

Ford: Questions Answered

The heroes arrive at the tiny walled village near dusk. Dozens of farmhouses dot the country side near Ford. The town proper sits on a prominent hill overlooking the road running east and west and a river that flows north to south. A spur off the road at the bridge leads up the hill to the open gates of the village where two guards greet the travelers amiably and advise them to seek Wrafton's Inn where they can find food, shelter and information.

At Wrafton's Inn the heroes quickly arrange a meal and bed for the night and set to finding what they can about Douven. The innkeeper, Salvana Wrafton, a heavyset middle-aged woman, tells them that Douven stayed in her inn, but just up and disappeared a few weeks ago. She hasn't seen or heard from him since. She's unsure of his interests, but seems to remember he spent a lot of time talking to Eilian. She also tells them that Valthrun might be able to help them out as well.

A handful of locals lounge about in the common room of the inn, taking in a bit of conversation, games of chance and a lot of ale. The heroes notice an elf woman watching them while trying to hide the fact. Rik and Stadir wander over to talk to her. She has no interest in speaking to them, and leaves abruptly when Rik tries to buy her a drink.

Later in the evening as more locals trickle in to the place, Salvana points out Eilian to the party. Eilian is a strange bird indeed. He speaks in sharp, staccato phrases and seems lost in his thoughts and those of others. His mind quickly wanders from topic to topic and his mouth quickly follows. He is most excited when he learns that the heroes seek Douven. "You knew Douven?" he exclaims. "Knew?" responds Stadir. "Well, know . . . I guess. You know Douven?"

After a great deal of wandering about in the strange world that is Eilian's thought process the heroes make an appointment to meet with him in the morning; but not too early! He is fascinated by Kahlashtar's prayer book and begs to take it with him to read, agreeing to return it on the morrow.

The heroes call it a night.

In the morning Moob, Berro and Rik make a run of the town and check things out. They discover there is not much to see. A stable, smithy, general store, some modest houses, a large tenement and a church take up about three fourths of the walled part of the village. An inner wall separates the rest of the village from Lord Paidrig's manor house, the guard barracks and warehouse.

The heroes speak briefly with Valthrun. Valthrun calls himself a political advisor to Lord Paidrig, the local ruler. Valthrun suggests that he can arrange a meeting with the lord, and the party agrees. Valthrun knows of Douven as well and tells much the same story as the innkeep.

After first waking Eilian around 11:00 AM the heroes finally meet with him around noon. He invites them to his modest home. They learn that he has a bit of a library of some thirty books and that he spends most of his time reading and advising Lord Paidrig on history, astrology, astronomy and other subjects. He stayed up the entire evening before reading Kahlashtar's prayer book and bores the party to tears recounting a parable from the book.

The adventurers finally manage to get some information of use out of Eilian. He tells them of a dragon burial ground nearby that Douven went to investigate several weeks ago. He draws them a map detailing the location of both the burial ground and the ruined keep which he claims is a pile of rubble and likely haunted.

Later in the evening the party makes a meeting with Lord Paidrig. This stately middle-aged fellow invites them to his manor where they are treated to fine drink and after dinner snacks. He seems interested in their exact relationship with Douven Staul and King Mark Winland II. When it becomes apparent that they do not have the power to negotiate on behalf of the king he seems to lose interest and redirects the conversation to helping them to find Douven.

He also offers to pay them to rid the village of the kobold menace. It seems the kobold activity in the region has picked up in recent months, and the ambushers have started to impact the well-being of the village. Merchants have gone missing and one of the scheduled Traveling Carnivals has not arrived as expected. If the heroes will track the kobolds to their lair and dispatch them he will pay them 50 gold crowns from the old Oshland Empire.

Kobold Ambush

The party agrees to take the job and will seek out Douven. It seems likely that he had a run in with the kobolds since both the burial ground and most of the kobold activity mostly are to the west. Using the map given by Eilian they set out west. On the road another band of kobolds attacks them. A fierce battle ensues, but the heroes manage the day with little trouble. Two of the kobolds flee the battle.

In looting the bodies they find an obsidian dragon necklace. Moob looks it over and discovers a crude ram-headed skull etched on the bottom of it. He recognizes this as the symbol of Orcus, the demon prince of the undead. The thought of kobolds worshiping Orcus unsettles them and they are even more determined now to wipe out the potential threat.

Scoping out the Lair

Moob manages to track the fleeing kobolds into the woods. An hour or so later they find themselves at a small clearing where a stream tumbles over a steep cliff face in the forest. Over a dozen kobolds mill about near the waterfall, obviously alert for trouble. After looking over the situation for a bit they decide to look for the dragon burial ground instead of facing this large band of kobolds. They will come back when better rested.

Burial Site

Using Eilian's map the party makes its way to the burial site. Once there Rik sneaks ahead for a look. He sees several men digging about in the place, a halfling skulking about nearby and another creature that he doesn't immediately recognize. The slender, gray-skinned creature is a gnome, as Stadir tells everyone once he sees it.

The heroes make their way down into the pit that is the burial site and the gnome calls out to them to come look at what he's found. As they gather around him he hefts a large curved bone and tries to slam it into Stadir's gut. Quickly his human diggers move to attack and two dog-like dragon creatures join the fray. The halfling, having vanished from sight repears and lets loose a hail of stones from his sling. Kahlashtar breathes lightning on the assembled enemies. The gnome disappears in a flash of electricity, but reappears a moment later waving a great pick at Khalashtar's back.

Rik and Mizz make short work of the halfling while Berro, Stadir, Moob and Khalashtar take care of the others. The fight is over relatively quickly and the heroes are none the worse for wear.

On checking out the burial site they find not only the gold and silver that the people carried, but a magical +1 Amulet of Health, a wooden crate with a mirror in it, and Douven Staul who is bound, gagged and covered with a blanket nearby.

They release Douven and question him about the goings on here. He tells them that he has had no trouble with kobolds, but that these miscreants attacked him before he ever reached the burial site. He had come out here to see what he could aobut the place. He will return soon to report to King Mark about his findings and asks the heroes to check out the keep in his stead.

Mizz recognizes the scroll work on the mirror and advises everyone that it is an item of value to worhipers of Orcus. It is not magical and is certainly of great value. They decide to take it with them along with the amulet, which Douven identifies as his own, but he gives to them as reward for rescuing him, but not before he takes the picture of his wife from it.

The party makes its way back to town escorting Douven. They now have an idea of where to proceed and maybe a bit of news for Lord Paidrig. Certainly they have uncovered some wealth. Douven agrees to wait in town to travel back to Roth with them unless a merchant caravan comes through that he can ride with.

The heroes decide to rest again for the night at the inn and will get an early start on the morrow.

Rewards

XP Earned: 600 each
Loot: 40 gold each; +1 Amulet of Health which Kahlashtar has.
Items of Interest: mirror with gold trim of undetermined value that Mizz claims has some connection to Orcus; obsidian dragon figure with symbol of Orcus etched on the bottom

Keep on the Shadowfell - Player Background

2008-05-23T14:55:00.004-05:00

Keep on the Shadowfell is the first published adventure for Dungeons and Dragons 4th edition. This preview adventure provides quick start rules and pregenerated characters. This adventure will serve as a preview to the Greyshad campaign.

Player Background

It has been 217 years since the Purge and the fall of the Oshland Empire. In the dark years since that time communication between lands, travel and trade has broken down. Warriors and wise men have managed to establish small pockets of civilization in the ruins of lost empires. One such point of light is the great city-state of Roth.

Once the eastern jewel of the Oshland Empire, Roth fell on hard times after the Purge. The people of Roth have suffered the ravages of war as armies sacked the city three times in less than a century. For a time the great city fell nearly to ruin and its walls hid the hollow husk that it had become.

About fifty years ago Mark Winland, a mighty warlord with a faithful band of followers, proclaimed himself King of Roth and the Eastern Marches. He ruthlessly destroyed would-be usurpers, real and imagined, and launched a campaign to bring peace and order to the land. He spent the last thirty years of his life fighting battles with goblin tribes, pirates on the Elba River, and politicians who would seek to tear him down. On his death his son, Mark Winland II, ascended to the throne.

King Mark Winland II proved himself a man of strength and honor and a great conciliator. He made peace with the river bands on the Elba, established trade with Port Eben, and managed to turn back the last of the goblin hordes near Roth with a pledge of non-agression should they remain outside the border of his kingdom. Since the first seven years of his reign Roth has been at peace and managed to rebuild. While not nearly the city of splendor it was in the glory days of empire, Roth stands as a beacon in a sea of chaos and danger. All of the lands within a day's ride of the city know peace and prosperity.

This time of plenty has awakened in the king a desire to fulfill his father's vision of a new empire with Roth as its capital. Several months ago he sent an emissary to the town of Ford far to the north. The envoy, Douven Staul, had orders to establish contact with the governing body of Ford and to learn all he could about the situation in and around Ford. King Mark has it in his mind to establish dominion over the lands north and east of Roth. Ford once held an important crossroad in the Eastern Marches. Tales speak of an abandoned keep of the old Oshland Empire nearby. If the king can establish a military presence in the keep it will make the task of ruling the Eastern Marches far easier.

Douven's schedule called for his return to Roth and a report to the king two months ago. Unsure of the fate of his representative, King Mark has called on a band of adventurers to travel to Ford and return with news of Douven. They have secondary orders to learn what they can about the old fort, including its location, disposition and current occupants, if any.

The Mining Consortium

2008-05-18T20:35:00.002-05:00

Dalton's Camp can make little claim to any civilizing influence or steady governing body, but the Mining Consortium makes a go of it. Founding members, and the only decision makers of the company, include Malakhala Anturorm, a human digger; Kharas Fireaxe, a dwarf accountant; and Rhakori Bladeleaf, an elf lore master. Between them they manage much of the action in Dalton's Camp. When parties have disputes over a claim they often turn to the Mining Consortium to sort things out. With wealth, knowledge and power to spare, the company has managed to control and/or direct a great deal of the goings on in Dalton.

The founders of the Mining Consortium worked together as adventurers and mercenaries some twenty years ago. After a particularly successful foray into hobgoblin territory near Dalton, they set up shop in one of the deeper caves where they found a mixed vein of silver and gemstones. With this newfound wealth they were able to bring in a great deal of muscle which they used to expand their influence in the area. Eventually they set up their headquarters in Dalton's Camp and have lived rather well off the proceeds of their many and varied business dealings.

Kharas Fireaxe acts as the face of the operation. Any new business dealings begin with Kharas. He has an incredible mind for numbers, a disarming personality and reads people exceptionally well. Adventurers in Dalton would do well to arrange a meeting with Kharas. If he doesn't have a job at the moment, he likely knows of one available. Even with no immediate work available he has been known to pay retainer fees for truly promising recruits.

Malakhala Anturorm's look and personality scream adventurer. His easy going manner never falters even in the face of terrible danger. He laughs at threats that would freeze lesser mortals' blood. He wears a battered brown leather hat atop his ruggedly handsome face. Malakhala's skill lies in finding the greatest treasure in a given dig and managing to bypass the hazards that may prevent easy acquisition.

Rhakori Bladeleaf spends most of his time researching matters important to the Consortium or studying new finds. He has a modest library and laboratory in the Consortium's offices at Dalton. Friendly relations with nearby sages, wise men and such ensure his access to other books, tomes, and scrolls at need. Rhakori is a bit of a recluse. Few people see him, and most would not know of his existence except for his well known exploits in previous adventures.

The Neighborhood: Points of Interest

2008-05-09T20:14:00.003-05:00

Berador lies at the intersection of the Blue Wash, a river running roughly north and south, and the Road which runs generally east and west. A wooden palisade surrounds the town proper as it sits atop one of the higher hills in this rolling woodland. Just outside of the palisade on the south side Lake Callie, a deep, cold pool, gathers the waters of the Blue Wash between three high hills before they tumble over a swift fall to continue the southward journey. A narrow cart track follows the Blue Wash north out of town, and a similar path skirts the edge of the lake on its eastern shore and follows to points south.

The city state of Roth lies some three hundred fifty miles down the Road to the west and south. Once the eastern jewel of the long lost Oshland Empire, Roth still supports significant port trade and wealth as its great towers guard the Elba River as it passes between the sea to the east and the inland Great Lake to the west. King Mark Winland IV of Roth claims all of the lands within two hundred miles of his city, but in reality he holds less than a third of that.

Two hundred miles south of Berador the former pirate cove of Port Eben floats in the marshy mouth the Blue Wash where it joins with the Elba River near the sea. While time and civilization have tamed Port Eben somewhat, one can find a nasty bit of trouble there without looking too hard. Admiral Aaron Caine, the current governor of Port Eben, has worked hard over the last decade to introduce civility and culture to the place, but old habits die hard, and many of the sea captains that call Port Eben home still hold to the pirate ways of yesteryear.

Along the Blue Wash south of Berador are the towns of Darshire and Treefall. Darshire is a farming community, not unlike Berador about fifty miles downstream. Farther along, another seventy miles or so, is Treefall, a community wholly dedicated to the lumber industry. A great many of the ships and boats of Port Eben have their origin in the piney woods of Treefall.

Dalton's Camp, called Dalton by most, nestles high in the foothills of the White Mist Mountains some hundred miles up the road to the east and north of Berador. The place is little more than a mining camp with a wooden wall and a couple of guard towers overlooking the tightly packed inns and brothels. Many people will spend years in Dalton working the nearby mines trying to strike it rich. Some few families call the place home, but mostly the population consists of miners, guardsmen, traders, whores and ruffians.

About one hundred miles north of Berador, the town of Ford straddles the Blue Wash at an old crossroads. The east-west route that once ran through the town has fallen into disuse and is nearly impassable. Intrepid explorers could follow the track from the dwarf holdings in the White Mist Mountains way north and east to the town of Galloway in the northern reaches of old Oshland, but such a journey would surely bring great trouble. Many years ago the town of Ford was the commercial center of the region. When the dwarfs stopped trading with the men of Oshland the town dried up. Now it is a shadow of its old self. Many abandoned farms and shops litter the land while a hardy bunch of farmers and ranchers hold on in hopes of recapturing lost glory and wealth someday.

The ruins of the town of Kendall haunt the old track west of Ford. Kendall was once one of the "Free Cities" of the border, just out of the reach of the Oshland Empire's territory.

Well south of the road going west to Roth are the ruins of North Roth. North Roth was once an outpost of the Oshland Empire in what the kings called "the Eastern Marches". When the empire fell to ruin this town dried up as its purpose was to extend the reach of the Oshlanders. With no one to pay the soldiers' salaries, they drifted away and the town died.

Horror on the Road

2008-05-02T22:56:00.002-05:00

begin

Feast for Crows

The crows swarm over the bodies obscuring them from view. Serra stifles a wrench in her stomach and tastes the bile in the back of her throat as the stench of blood and smoke mix with the afternoon heat and dust in a stomach turning haze. The crows scream at her as she drives Nightbreaker forward. Her enormous warhorse wants no part of this filth.

Seven things hang from the branches of a lone oak tree. The smoldering remains of two wagons lay nearby in heaps. Serra knows what she will find when the crows clear, but for the moment she sees only a blood wet roiling mass of black feathers and sharp beaks. She hobbles Nightbreaker about a dozen paces from the tree and approaches on foot. The crows continue their cacophonic protests.

Most of the crows take flight or hover overhead as Serra reaches the first of the bodies. A few particularly greedy birds eye her evilly as they take last gobbets of flesh before flying off with a squawk. Drawing her long sword Serra slashes the rope strung around the neck of the thing that was once a man and it drops to the ground. Even though the crows have worked at the man for many hours, Serra can see clearly that the man was flayed before he was hanged. Not a bit of skin covers the flesh from head to toe. She whispers a brief prayer to Pelor and wishes she could forget the thought that the man was probably alive at the time.

Serra spends the better part of two hours cutting down the bodies and digging a massive hole in which to bury them. Six men, one woman, all human by the shape of them, will never see home again. They spent their last hour in the World in a horror that few can even imagine.

Reavers Here?

Serra has seen the work of Reavers before, but always far west of Berador, never to the east. The thought of those inhuman fiends preying on the farms and camps here sends a terrifying chill down her spine.

After burying the dead Serra studies the ground carefully. A long, cautious search of the area makes plain the tale. Serra finds a foxhole near the Road where one or two of the Reavers hid in wait for their prey. The others stayed nearby behind some scrub. They rode in on the two wagons screaming murder and hatred. At least a score of them, most mounted, commandeered the wagons and captured the people with very little fight. They drove the wagons south of the Road to the oak tree and set about their butchery. The slaughter complete they rode further south towards the piney forested hills.

Serra tracks the Reavers for a couple of hours. Riding across the clear land between the Road and the hills she can see in all directions clearly to the horizon. The tracks enter the forest and there she turns aside. To pursue Reavers, alone, into the forest would be suicide. She turns back for the Road, driving Nightbreaker for what little speed he has to give.

A Warning

And so she finds herself alone on the Road with no cover in any direction for several hours. With only two hours until nightfall she must make for the uncertain shelter of the Greywood. She must survive; she must make it back to Dalton; she must warn the people. And so she rides.

Even More People of Berador

2008-04-23T21:08:00.001-05:00

Amil Greyski

male human rancher
Amil Greyski heads a large family that lives far west of town; the family manor is nearly a full day's ride from Berador. They trade in cattle and vegetables, mostly roots and hay. The Greyski family sends many young people to join the Greywood Wardens for a time. Amil has always felt the family owed it to the greater community to give something back. The majority of the men and many women will spend two to five years with the Wardens before returning to the family lands. The Greywood Wardens count the Greyski family among their greatest supporters and can always expect a warm welcome when ranging near the Greyski lands.

Bull Emmett

male human rancher
Jeremiah, called "Bull" by most people, owns one of the larger cattle ranches in the area. His large family, including his wife and children, two brothers and their immediate family, some uncles, aunts and cousins, tends to the lands and the cattle. The people of Berador have great respect for the Emmett family in general and for Bull Emmett in particular owing to a comination of the family wealth and Bull's penchant for always being there to help when trouble shows up in town. Bull's left arm ends at his elbow which goblins mangled in one of the many battles Bull fought over the years in defending his ranch.

Fenesin Lumiya

male elf watch captain
Fenesin Lumiya leads the "town guard" of Greywatch Hold called the Foresters. He and his comrades spend their days ranging about the Hold and the nearby lands watching for trouble, be it man or beast. Most elves with a martial bent will join up with the Foresters at least for a decade or so before settling down to a more mundane life. The people of Berador and the region admire Fenesin's skill with a bow and his woodland tracking abilities. Fenesin never backs down from any confrontation, and unlike most elves, is quick to anger and prefers violence as a solution to most problems.

Harael Longbeard

female dwarf mercenary
Harael of the Longbeard clan arrived in Berador some twenty years ago. She doesn't speak much about her past, but tales say that she fled some danger to her clan's holdings in the White Mist Mountains. No other Longbeards live in the region, and she typically makes her home on the Stonejaw clan's farmstead east of town. She hires herself out to merchants and other travelers or anyone that feels the need for some extra muscle. Harael has few friends, but many acquaintances and potential customers. Anyone that manages to win her friendship has a loyal and steadfast friend for life.

Relalith Arbordawn

female elf seer
Relalith has lived among the elves of Greywatch Hold since long before they arrived in Berador. Some claim she has lived for over five hundred years, but she will only admit to three hundred fifty. She reads signs, omens and cards and helps prepare the elves and all of the people of Berador for dangers that she sees in the future. She speaks in cryptic riddles and rhymes when telling prophecies, and claims that the words "just come to her" and she often knows less of what they mean than the recipients of her wisdom. Her cloudy gray eyes unnerve even the steeliest who seek her counsel.

Some More People of Berador

2008-04-20T15:21:00.003-05:00

Bemkral Sujral

male dragonborn servant of Bahamut
Bemkral arrived in Berador six years ago with a merchant caravan bound for Dalton. The caravan ran into trouble on the road with a gnoll raiding party and the few survivors beat a hasty retreat back to Berador. Gerry Woodcote tended to their hurts, and Bemkral lent his own powers in assistance. Bemkral and Gerry became fast friends. Bemkral works at whatever physical labor he can find and supplements his income by assisting Gerry at need. He is a devout follower of the tenants of Bahamut and spends much of his free time proselytizing on the wellness of being one can find in the teaching of his god.

Chadadarya Lidastar

female eladrin elder
Deep in the Greywood an enclave of eladrin exiles from the Feywild live and toil among the majesty of the darkest part of the forest. Chadadarya sits on the elder council that rules the eladrin. When events require she visits the elves of Greywatch Hold and occassionally even Berador proper. Chadadarya is the face of the eladrin of the area to most of the world.

Chadadarya is an ancient eladrin of a noble family. The elves of Grewywatch Hold and the leaders of Berador know well her patience, perseverance and wisdom and they hold her in high regard.

Ompolo Emrir

male human beekeeper
Ompolo Emrir lives south of Berador near the Blue Wash with his wife Lychira and their several children. With the help of his older children and wife he tends to a large tract of colorful flowers and many hives of bees. Many people attribute his amazing rapport with his bees to some mystical connection or past, but he has never confirmed or denied any such special powers. "They just seem to listen to me," Ompolo will say when pressed. Some people claim that his mother was a faerie from the Feywild. Ompolo trades honey, beeswax and flowers to the Traveling Caravans and the locals to support his family.

Shumkesh Branloth

male tiefling warden
To the everlasting disgrace and disgust of his aunt, Lady Caer Branloth, Skumkesh left the Branloth compound shortly after coming of age and joined the Greywood Wardens. He has served well and honorably for several years and earned high marks and high regard from the commanders of the order. Skumkesh avoids contact with any of the Branloth clan as he wishes to avoid what he believes would surely be an unpleasant confrontation. When not patrolling the region with the Wardens he spends his time swilling cheap ale at the nearest watering hole. He likes the company of people at the Maple House particularly when drinking.

Therore Kaldori

male halfling fishing captain
Therore lives on the Blue Wash in a large flatboat that serves double duty as a fishing barge and a two bedroom house. While the accomodations would not suit a human, Therore and his wife, Irtas, and their three children live quite comfortably. They spend their days traveling up and down the Wash pulling salmon from the water. In the evenings they dock among the halflings on Lake Callie. Therore is a jolly middle-aged halfling of long experience and longer tales. He has seen all of the lands around Berador and even farther afield. He never tires of telling of his adventures from his younger days.

Character Thoughts

2008-04-20T14:16:00.006-05:00

So, it's time to start thinking about making up a character for the game. I know we don't have any books or rules yet. "So, what," says I. Let's make up characters, not character sheets. Everything is subject to change when the rules come out, but let's go ahead and think about who your character is and how s/he will fit into the adventuring party, the home base (Berador) and the world.

Where Are You From?

This question should be very easy for everyone: you're from Berador. At least you're from Berador now. If you want to be from elsewhere in the distant past we can talk about it and work something out, but most likely you were born and raised somewhere in the near vicinity of Berador. I'm trying to get everyone settled into a "home" that can be a familiar, safe place from which you start your adventures and to which you return when it's time to rest and recover.

If you really want to be from somewhere else then think about being from one of the nearby towns or villages. Possibly you have come from the large city of Roth far to the southwest, but you better come up with a good reason that you left the hustle and bustle of a large city to come to this near wilderness village a couple of hundred miles away. Regardless of where you come from you will have been in or around Berador for at least the last five years.

What Do You Do?

We'll worry about character class later. It's possible that race/class will play a role in your profession, but not necessarily. Feel free to incorporate what you think you want to play into your profession, but don't think it's necessary.

So, what can you do? Well, most people around here farm, fish or forest. The farming consists of various roots and vegetables with some grains and some cattle. Nearly every farm has some chickens and a few boast a handful of pigs. Fishing is very straightforward: you fish the trout and salmon out of the Blue Wash and Lake Callie. Finally, forestry is a minor industry. People in these parts build their homes and other buildings out of wood. The Fireaxe mill in town handles both grain and lumber. There are a few foresters around town, and the Traveling Carnivals occasionally buy excess lumber.

Other professions include various handicrafts, general labor, farmhand, and tending the stores. There are a handful of people that act as paid security or law enforcement. These people are generally hired by one of the wealthier families to tend to the family needs. A rare few people don't have a particular profession: there are some beggars that wander the village and from farmstead to farmstead, and some of the very wealthy families have a few younger adults who have taken to a life of leisure in preference to work. None of these people is much appreciated by the local townsfolk, but the independently wealthy are at least respected for the cash they can sling around.

Pick a profession that will fit into the makeup of a small farming town and is of interest to you. This is what you will be doing when not adventuring . . . at least to start.

Who Are Your Family and Friends?

Every character that is spotlighted in the 'blog is someone that you know. You may know some of them quite well or even be related to him/her. It is a certainty that all of the PCs will know each other passing well and hopefully you will be good friends from the start of the story. We'll see how it works out. If you want to incorporate any of the NPCs from this 'blog into your background, feel free to do so. In fact, I encourage you to do so.

I would also like for everyone to detail as much as you feel is necessary of your family background. Family members do not have to be fully fleshed-out characters, but at least a name, age and one or two word description will be useful. Berador is your home and is populated by your family and friends. Tell me who they are.

General Ideas

None of the following is set in stone, but it does describe the typical lifestyle for the race in question in and around Berador.

Dragonborn PCs are somewhat limited in their choices regarding family. If born locally you live with one of your parents who raised you from birth (hatching) alone. Your parents came here just before you were born, and the one who is not with you left shortly after you hatched as is customary among Dragonborn. Alternatively, you are full grown and the parent who raised you has also left, and you now live alone in Berador. You may also be a wandering Dragonborn from one of the other villages or towns in the area (or maybe even farther afield) who has taken up residence in Berador some time ago. Regardless, you should have been in Berador for at least five years.

Dwarfs live mostly in town among the Fireaxe clan. Not all of the dwarfs within the compound are of the clan, but most are. There are a few Dwarf farmsteads and a handful of independent Dwarf families in the town as well.

Eladrins are a special case. All Eladrins must live among a single enclave that has taken up residence near the Elf hold to the northwest. The Eladrins arrived in the area en masse ten years ago fleeing a horror in the ancient forest called Silverine far to the north. The Eladrins do not mingle much with the village directly. Most of their commerce and communication is through the Elves of Graywatch Hold. The Eladrins have great magic and crafts at their disposal. They trade their magic and crafted goods to the Elves to supplement their own hunting and gathering as needed. It is rumored that the Eladrin live double lives in both the World and the Feywild and that much of their magic comes from dealings with faeries. If you are an Eladrin you will need to come up with a good reason that you have left the Eladrin hold in the forest and are mingling with the PC adventuring party.

The vast majority of Elves live in one of the three enclaves in the forests around Berador. Graywatch Hold, Elm Grove and Pebbledown are the names of their holdings. All of the Elves live similar hunter/gather lives in the forests. Some few Elves travel beyond the immediate environs on occasion, and a few claim to have ventured into the Feywild. There are some Elves in town proper and even a couple of Elf farmsteads.

Halflings are the most likely to travel regularly. The Halflings of Berador include a hardy bunch that provide escort and guide services on both the Wash and the Road. They do not travel far, usually no more than one week in any direction, but they do travel often.

Half Elves live almost entirely in the town proper. A few have taken up residence among the Elves and there is rumor of a couple that live among the Eladrins. There are a few Half Elf farmsteads as well. Most Half Elves live solitary lives or live with very small families.

Humans run the gamut from farmers, fishers and foresters to crafters and merchants. If you're human you can pretty much fit in any lifestyle that suits the area. It is very likely that you are from one of the many families in the area and you have quite a few relations about. You may even be from one of the few "noble" families. They are not really noble, but they are wealthy and hold large farmlands which makes them pretty close to noble in these parts.

Most Tieflings in the area are of the Branloth line. There are a few dozen Tieflings living in the Branloth manor and on the outbuildings among their hold. There is certainly room for other Tieflings in the area, and you can feel free to be one from some other family. Most Tieflings live in large families that rarely split off into independent farmsteads as they outgrow the current home as is custom among humans. Tieflings simply build another house on the same land and expand the borders of their farm to accommodate their needs. There may be a couple of more independent Tieflings living in town proper that work at some craft or own a store or such.

Anyone could potentially be someone who came to town with the Traveling Carnival and decided to stay. While it's not common, people do occasionally decide to stick around in one place after months or years on the road with the Carnival. Humans and Halflings make up the majority of the Carnival's people, but any race will do.

Some Specific Ideas

Feel free to take these ideas and run with them. You can also combine some of these ideas. They're just "getting started" points:

The Dragonborn child of Jadestar Kaldoran; you accompany Jade on her patrols from time to time, but mainly you work as a common laborer wherever someone will have you.

A Dwarf laborer in the Fireaxe clan compound; you may or may not actually be of the Fireaxe clan and you may or may not live there as you desire. You work at the mill or the smith or at some other labor among the dwarfs who provide so much to the Berador community.

An Eladrin forester who has joined the Greywood Wardens; you live a double life among your relations in the Greywood and traveling at need with the Wardens. You have been to most of the nearby villages and holdfasts in your travels and faced many dangers in the Wild with the Wardens.

An Elf forester and hunter; you live among the trees to the northwest of Berador along with a couple of dozen of your kin. You hunt wild boar in the fall and winter and chop lumber in the spring and summer.

A Halfling fisherman; you ply the Blue Wash and Lake Callie on a fishing barge with your mates pulling in great hauls of fish to help feed the village.

A Half elf cobbler; you live in town and craft fine shoes for everyone from the common laborers to the wealthiest of families.

A Human beggar; you don't have a proper home, but you sometimes manage to scrounge enough coin up to get a room at the Maple House. You often end up sleeping outside or under a hedge. You do whatever work is available and not too demanding. Sometimes your "work" includes acquiring other people's possessions without their knowledge or consent.

A Tiefling scion of the Branloth family; you don't have a profession exactly. You kind of do whatever is necessary to keep you in Lady Caer's good graces. Sometimes that includes looking in on the farmhands and seeing that they do their work. Other times you may need to travel to a nearby village to deliver some message for Lady Caer.

Some More History

2008-04-12T15:00:00.003-05:00

Way Back When

No one knows when Berador became a village. It's just always been here. Tales going back for centuries mention Berador, prominently or not depending on the story. The oldest facts known about Berador tie in to tales of the old Oshland Empire and its wars with the kingdom of Palacia. The Oshland Empire of old claimed Berador and all of the region around the Blue Wash as a border province. At the height of their power the kings of Oshland placed troops and border forts in the area. Berador served as a provincial capital of sorts long ago. The crumbling tower fort just outside of town attests to the reach of the kings in the ancient metropolis of Kray City.

During one of the many wars between Palacia and Oshland the lands of the Berador region revolted against the King of Oshland. No one knows the details, but most people believe that the revolt began with an attempted call for conscription. Soldiers of Oshland rode out from the tower fort in Berador and called the people to arms "in defense of the Empire" against the forces of Palacia. Only a few hardy souls offered their services. Palacia and Kray City were far away and of little interest to the simple villagers. The local governor demanded more. He called on each family in the region to send one able-bodied man for the war effort. The call became a demand, the demand became a show of force and the show of force resulted in anarchy. The governor died in the fighting and most of his men fled the region as the people of the villages united behind a band of heroes.

When the war with Palacia settled down the King of Oshland turned his eye to the rebellious province of Berador. Soldiers from Oshland came in numbers too great to oppose. The people of Berador and Dalton and Darshire decided not to fight. They would submit to the yoke of the empire once again. Unfortunately, the soldiers had no interest in surrender or in subjugation. They arrived intent on slaughter and vengeance. Thousands died as mounted soldiers swept over the lands with sword and fire. Whole families were murdered, and the Oshlanders burned villages and farmsteads. Having ground the land to dust and soot, the soldiers left and the Oshland Empire never returned. Not many years later the Great Slaughter of Kray City reduced the empire to ruin and it never recovered its former majesty.

Rebuilding, Rebirth

The destruction of the villages of the Berador region did not last. Most people survived the fighting as they fled into the Greywood or even up into the Silverine Forest for protection. Heroes and saviors shepherded the people through the hard times and the elves of the Silverine provided much needed aid. In time the villages were rebuilt, the farms and gardens replanted, cattle were herded back onto pastures and life resumed.

Dalton took many years to recover. After the village burned the people of Dalton fled to other places where they could find food and shelter. Over time a goblin tribe took up residence in the area and seized the mines. Again heroes of the age stepped in. The goblins fought long and hard, but could not overcome the power of the heroes with the descendents of the people of Dalton supporting them. Even after they moved back to the town site, it was many years before the people could reopen the mines as goblins and kobolds continued to plague the land.

Port Eben, at the mouth of the Blue Wash, became a pirate cove and eventually a pirate town. For nearly a century the buccaneers and cutthroats of Port Eben plagued the lands and the sea around the place. Over time as the port grew in size a general civilizing trend took hold. While pirates could steal and murder at will on the sea they could not live among themselves in great number without some law. Port Eben adopted many customs from the seabound captains that called the place home. Even today the local authority figure is called Admiral of Port Eben as opposed to Mayor or some other title. The Admiral is elected by the ship captains that make Port Eben their home port.

As a crossroads on the main east-west travel route and the north-south passage of the Blue Wash, Berador recovered relatively quickly from the Oshlanders's butchery. The elves of the Silverine Forest and the dwarves of the White Mist Mountains continued to trade with the human lands to the west. In doing so they traveled the Road and the Wash and the convenient intersection made Berador wealthy for a time.

Empires Falling

It has been some three hundred years since the time of the Oshland Empire. While the Slaughter destroyed much of its power two hundred years before, it was the coming of the demons that ended all. Again, no one knows exactly how or what happened, but most accept that the Purge began in Kray City. At least, the first stories of the demons always start there.

While Oshland and Palacia fought a new border war some great evil enveloped Kray City. People who have been there still speak of the great crater and black abyss that the city site has become. But no one won this war. They merely survived.

The demon hordes first marched over the human lands. Oshland, Palacia, Karameikos, and even the Free Cities fell as the spawn of the Abyss swept over the lands. The greatest horror of the time was the inability to tell friend from foe. The demons possessed the bodies of their enemies and traveled from land to land in disguise. That is how the elves and dwarves fell to ruin. In trading with the humans and offering shelter to refugees they invited their enemies into their strongholds. In a matter of only twenty years the demons destroyed all of the great cities and strongholds of the civilized races. Even the orcs and goblins fell to ruin in this time as the demons cared not for any life in the World. Tales of destruction in the Underdark speak to the demons' attacks on the drow and other dwellers in the deep places of the world as well. No one escaped the Purge unscathed.

No one knows what stopped them. Maybe they had accomplished their goals. Maybe they had slaked their thirst for blood. Or maybe the gods took a hand in the troubles. Whatever the cause, something stopped the deomons. On April 12th 273 years ago all of the demons fled the World and returned to the Abyss. No one has since seen or heard tale of demons in the World.

Points of Light

Now, nearly three hundred years after the Purge, the peoples of Greyshad have rebuilt and again society begins to flourish. Gone are the days of wide-sweeping empires and great kingdoms. City-states and small kingdoms stand as bastions of civilization in a sea of wilderness and chaos. The dwarves of the White Mist Mountains hold a few of their ancient fortresses. The human lands of old are mostly a ruin, but the great city-state of Roth, once a jewel of the Oshland Empire, has established a hold on the nearby lands.

The elves scatter across the lands. While they had tried to rebuild their city of Moonspire in the heart of the Silverine, something has driven them from the forest. Rumors speak of their ancient holdings in the far west and the great forest fortresses of Farenloth and a gathering of the elves there. But this land is far away and unknown to most.

The halflings continue as they always have. Their caravans and barges ply the lands and the rivers. Some set up semi-permanent homes as they have in Berador, but most travel throughout their lives. Tieflings and dragonborn live among the human lands in small clans or as solitary families. They have tales of their own ancient glory before the times of the Oshland Empire, but no one can point to any concrete proof of their history.

And so, life goes on.

The People of Berador

2008-04-12T13:30:00.004-05:00

This is a brief listing of some people living in and around Berador. All residents of the area (including the PCs) know or know of these people:

Doogan Arwit

male human apprentice smith
Doogan Arwit works at the forge in the Fireaxe compound and has been there for four years. While the dwarves of the Fireaxe clan are friendly enough to the people of Berador, they don't often take non-dwarves as apprentices. Doogan has been a close friend of Bracken Fireaxe for years and won a job at the smithy when he bested Bracken in a wrestling match at the fall harvest festival. Doogan drinks only dark beer, has grown a long, thick beard and swears "by Moradin" often and loudly.

Gemini Starseer

male elf tailor
Gemini Starseer and his wife Elia have lived in the village of Berador for at least thirty years. They have two young children who were born in Berador. Many people of Berador are self-sufficient as to food, shelter and clothing, but there are enough with a bit of wealth to spare to call on Gemini for his services. He makes only the finest of garments. Workman's clothes and traveling cloaks are beneath his interest. At feast days and weddings many of the well-to-do of Berador wear Gemini's work with pride.

Kerry Wakefield

male human farmhand
Kerry Wakefield was born and raised in Berador. His parents moved out of their ancestral home to start a new farmstead when Kerry was eleven. Only a few weeks later goblins from the Greywood assaulted the farm in the dead of night. Kerry's parents and four older siblings died in the attack. Somehow Kerry survived. Kerry lived the next few years with his grandparents and uncles and aunts at the old Wakefield home. He left at age sixteen and now only returns to visit. He hires himself out to farmers in need of an extra hand, and lives semi-permanently in one of the rooms for rent at the Maple House. Kerry has an overwhelming hatred for all goblinkind, and at the first sign of any kind of trouble he blames goblins. When not working out at the Branloth, Vesash or some other well-to-do farm, Kerry spends his time drinking and complaining about anything that comes to mind at the Maple House.

Magaret "Crazy Maggie" Chesam

female human apothecary
Crazy Maggie has lived alone in her tiny cottage on the edge of the Greywood for several years since her husband, Corky Chesam, a woodsman and hunter, passed away. The people of Berador acknowledge and respect her ancient wisdom, but most question her sanity. Even while Corky lived the villagers regarded them as strange for living away from the protection of friends and family. Now Maggie lives alone with only her two massive wolfhounds for companions. Maggie spends her days tending to her small, well-ordered garden and pottering about in the edge of the Greywood.

Warus Mulski

male human tanner
Warus Mulski "retired" to Berador about seven years ago. He served in the army of the great city-state of Roth for over twenty years. When King Marcus Winland IV inherited the throne he forced many of the more seasoned soldiers out of the army. Rather than stew in the city he loved on the meager pension offered by the king, Warus decided to make a new life for himself. He came to Berador with a Traveling Carnival and decided not to leave. The villagers welcomed him as they had need of his skill with hides and leather. He has since married a local widow, Janis of the Greyski family, and settled down quite comforably in his shop in town. Warus knows a great deal about the city of Roth and never tires of telling tales, though some of his information is now a bit dated. He has never returned to Roth and vows never to do so.

The Traveling Carnival (part two)

2008-04-09T19:55:00.002-05:00

Through the spring, summer and autumn months the Traveling Carnivals bring news, entertainment and goods, both mundane and exotic, to the towns and villages around Berador. While the trade makes life bearable, enjoyable even, it's the news of far off lands and the entertainment that attracts many to the Maypole each visit.

What Sights You Can't Imagine

"Step right up, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen! For the amazing low cost of a single copper penny you'll see wonders beyond your ken!" The barker calls out as the crowds shuffle from wagon to wagon. Many have come only to purchase a hard to find item or two from the traveling merchants. Many more spend time browsing the goods with no intent of buying anything. They listen to the news and stories and wait for the early evening shows.

The barker knows the look of his mark. That one there; he walks casually from wagon to wagon, but takes no time looking at anything in particular. He spends more time ambling between the wagons than checking out the goods.

"You, sir!" the barker bellows, pointing at the ambler. "Take a moment to look at the wonders I bring from faraway lands: a dragon's tooth as long as your arm, the great horn of a mammoth and even greater mysteries wait inside. Come! Come!"

The man stops in embarrassment as his neighbors stare at him and toss glances at the barker. One or two pat him on the back and mumble encouragement. The barker smiles behind a straight face. The villagers will do his job for him. A moment's cajolery from his friends and the man walks to the barker's booth.

"Excellent, fine sir, excellent! One copper penny and you'll see the hugest dragon tooth this side of the old Oshland Empire." He lowers his voice as the man approaches, and whispers conspiratorially, "And for a silver star you'll see wonders beyond your dreams."

The man fishes in his belt pouch and hands over the copper. He makes his way past the barker and into the wagon beyond. His friends and neighbors look on with grins and winks.

"Come one, come all, don't let your friend here be the only one to see the secrets of foreign lands."

All the News That's Fit to Tell

The crier holds forth in front of a dark gray wagon. He sits high on a half barrel seat with a great table in front of him. He calls loudly to passersby the gist of his stories: "Hear all about the butchery in Darshire! Come have a seat at the Gray Barrel!"

As the townsfolk make their way through the Carnival a great many of them stop at the gray barrel to hear the news. When a sufficient number has gathered he tells the tale. Goblins, gnolls and worse have descended on the farms around Darshire killing and maiming and robbing with abandon. He strays long over the details, especially the gruesome ones that will keep the crowd's attention. All the while the serving ladies of the Gray Barrel deliver beer, ale and mulled wine. Listening to the news is thirsty business. The crier knows his trade and holds the listeners long enough for a round or two before finishing the tale of butchery in Darshire. He dribbles out the last of bloodshed and villainy and vengeance by the Greywood Wardens as the last of the crowd moves on to other pleasures of the Carnival.

Then it's on to the next tale and a new crowd with money to spend on drink and news: "The Queen in Roth is with child, and some say it's not the King's issue!"

Let Me Entertain You

A great red tent some fifteen feet tall and at least thirty in diameter spreads out majestically behind the wagons of the Carnival. Young boys and girls of the Traveling Folk make their way through the crowd calling to Carnival's patrons, "Come see the tumblers and jugglers under the red tent. Only two copper stars for the whole show. It begins at nightfall." The young runners make their way through out the village green and beyond calling out the coming entertainment.

As dusk darkens toward night many in the crowd make their way to the red tent. Most have seen the shows before, but they never stop enjoying the tumblers and jugglers and even the dancing bear. As night falls the crowd grows restless and mutters aloud. The show is not yet begun, but the ringmaster holds the start . . . there are some empty seats and the boys and girls are still out gathering the crowd.

The last handful of seats fills with those who were reluctant to part with their money. They pay only a single copper penny to get in. Alas, the ringmaster will have more of them. The food vendors begin to wind through the crowd with candied apples, roasted corn on the cob and other tasty treats as the first act begins. All the patrons pay. One way or another they pay for the show.

NPC Spotlight: Reggie Danpero

2008-03-17T22:57:00.004-05:00

Reginald Danpero, known to most as Reggie, lives a joyful, adventurous life plying the waters of the Blue Wash. He captains one of the many trading barges that calls Berador home and ventures up and down the Wash in search of profit and pleasure, not necessarily in that order. As a purveyor of sometime exotic goods and always interesting news Reggie finds himself welcome at any table in the Maple House when he comes home.

Up River or Down River

"It's a simple question: up river or down river; which do you want?" Reggie asks with a twinkle in his eye. A strong breeze blows in his face, and his wavy brown ringlets of hair bounce and flutter in the wind. He fixes the younger Halfling with his deep emerald eyes and his lip curls in a playful grin.

"Um, I'm not sure, Reg. Shouldn't you decide? I mean, you know, you've got all the experience and all." The apprentice shuffles his feet as he mumbles to the master trader. He meets Reggie's gaze with a look of awe and near reverence.

"Aw, c'mon, Raykie, don't you want to make journeyman someday? You have to be able to make the tough calls, boy," Reggie cajoles the Halfling apprentice trader called Raykimi Cachon. "Make a decision. What have we in our holds?"

"Well, we've got plenty of roots from several of the nearby farms. And there's the salted pork from over‘t the Branloth holdfast." He pauses to think, "Oh, and then we got the hides and beef from Greyski and his neighbors." Raykie smiles nervously, seeking Reggie's approval.

"That's right," Reggie replies and nods reassuringly. "Now, where's the best place to trade that gear off for something of use here or elsewhere we can go?"

"Well, we could take the roots down river t' Darshire," Raykie answers hopefully. "Maybe trade for some greens or other vegetables; maybe even some early summer pears. The beef and pork would sell about anywhere, but would probably fetch the best price down t' Port Eben. And the hides . . . well, I'm not too sure about those."

Let the Goddess Decide

Raykie pauses and rubs his chin thoughtfully. Reggie looks on with a hint of pride. The boy will make a fine trader some day.

"Well, when you're not sure, what should you do?" asks Reggie.

"Look to the master trader for advice?" grins Raykie.

Reggie laughs a hearty laugh. "I guess that's one way. But what if you're the master trader and you can't decide? What then?"

Raykie's brow furrows as he considers the query carefully. Uncertainly he mumbles, "Ask Avandra for guidance?" It's clearly a question and not put forth with any conviction.

"That's right!" Reggie hoots and slaps his young charge on the back. "Let the Goddess decide!"

Reggie draws a fat silver coin from his purse and rolls it expertly across his fingers. The coin dances between his knuckles catching the sunlight in flashes and then rests in his palm. "So, you call the toss. If your call is right we'll go downstream. If you call it wrong we'll go up."

Raykie nods hesitantly, and Reggie tosses the coin high in the air. Raykie calls loudly, "Crown!" as the coin spins overhead.

Reggie snatches the silver from the air as it passes in front of his face. He holds his fist out in front of himself and towards Raykie. Slowly he lays open his fingers and the reveals the coin. The etched crown of the lost Oshland Empire winks up at the apprentice trader.

"South it is, boy. Now go get the others ready."

Master Trader Secrets

As Raykie heads down the gangplank and back to shore, Reginald Danpero, master trader, chuckles softly to himself. He rolls the coin over in his palm, alternating the crown of the Oshland kings with the menacing head of a dragon on the reverse. He slips the old Oshland silver crown back into his purse. Raykie will learn someday. His reasoning was good, given what he knew. And the decision to go down river was the right one, but not for the reason Raykie thought. And Reggie has never heard the Goddess complain when someone makes his own luck.

Unknown to the apprentice trader one of Reggie's barges carries a chest full of silver bars and ingots down from Dalton. The silver came over by a caravan led by Reggie's cousin. Those bars and ingots will fetch a nice load of master crafted steel weapons down to Port Eben. Steel weapons are hard to come by out in the wild and will fetch an excellent price at any town or holdfast north of the Palantir.

Raykie also doesn't know that a messenger bird arrived on the morning. The message came from another of Reggie's cousins making his way to Darshire with a Traveling Carnival from the great city of Roth. They'll be in Darshire next week. Conveniently so will Reggie and his barges. There he'll take on a load of fine plateware and silverware which he'll pass on to the Branloth family as payment for the pork.

The job of a master trader is not to buy and sell goods. It's not to move goods up and down the Wash or on the Road. The master trader's job is to know who wants to sell and who wants to buy and how to help those people with their wants. What they want to buy and sell is less important than the fact that they want something. And Reggie will be glad to provide it.

NPC Spotlight: Captain Rodrik Vesash

2008-03-11T21:36:00.003-05:00

The head of the Vesash family styles himself Captain Rodrik Vesash. The title remains a mystery to most of the residents of Berador; Captain Rodrik never served in any army, and he doesn't know the port side of a boat from the starboard. Nevertheless, Captain Rodrik they call him. He tends well to the doings of his large family and their massive holdings. Captain Rodrik has quite the reputation as a successful trader, a daring gambler and one with a gentle kindness to those around him. Even those "beneath his station" get proper nods of respect from the Captain.

Fair Trade

Captain Rodrik, a balding and portly man, strides out of the gold fitted double doors onto the balcony overlooking the "back yard" as he calls it. He draws deeply on the carved pipe clenched in his teeth. He pats his round belly in the fine white silk of his exquisitely tailored coat. The balcony sits atop great white marble columns that hold up the roof and provide a cover for the porch that winds around three sides of his manse. The "upper deck," as he calls the second floor balcony, fronts all four sides of the house with doors letting into the library and the great hall on the front and back of the house respectively.

He stares for a moment out over the well-ordered pecan orchard. The perfect lines of the great trees comfort the Captain. The steady movements of the laborers in the fields beyond comfort him even more. As he absorbs the peaceful scenery a rumbling wagon rolls around his home from the front. A team of four heavy draft horses pull the flatbed wagon piled high with evenly cut raw pine logs. Another wagon rounds the house and another. In all seven great wagons line up behind the house, each laden with pine and oak cut from the Vesash lands.

As he watches some two dozen younger men pour out of the surrounding out buildings. Most head to the stables and return mounted on a riding horse. Some mount up on the wagons. Still a handful of others return from the stables mounted on warhorses.

Captain Rodrik's son, Dale, emerges from the massive white house. He barks some orders to the assembled men and waits as one of the grooms readies his great, black warhorse. Dale, dressed in thick riding leathers with a sword at his side, looks fully in control and command. As well he should be. He learned to command at the Captain's knee.

When all is ready, Dale glances to his father on the upper deck. He draws his sword and holds it vertical in front of his face, a salute to his father, the Captain. He barks another command and the wagons creak into motion, one by one. A pair of men on horseback flanks each wagon and men mounted and dressed for war lead the party out of the yard. Another group gathers around Dale, and as the last wagon makes its way out towards the Road, they follow it away.

Captain Rodrik watches them leave with a wistful smile on his face. Not too many years ago he would have led the caravan himself. Now he leaves such things to his oldest son. The boy does well. He'll return in about a month or so leading a hundred and a half head of cattle. The Captain will make the arrangements in town long beforehand, and within a week of his return Dale will be off again to deliver the beef in twos and tens to this farmstead or that. The money will serve them well enough, but the goods they get in exchange will do even better. Such goods can be traded later to the Traveling Carnivals or even traded back to the original owners. Captain Rodrik has a knack for buying low and selling high, and it has done his family well for years. He looks forward to continued success for years to come.

NPC Spotlight: Ulfgar Fireaxe

2008-03-09T20:28:00.001-05:00

Ulfgar Fireaxe, the chief of the Fireaxe clan of Berador, lives in the Fireaxe compound on the north side of Berador proper. The clan holds a large parcel of land that straddles the Blue Wash and encompasses the smithy, a great mill and a handful of houses. Ulfgar's stern leadership and strict adherence to family and community values ensures that the people of Berador hold the Fireaxe clan in high regard. The people of Berador honor and respect the Fireaxe clan for their useful contributions to the needs of the neighborhood as well as the dwarfs' honesty and loyalty.

The Carnival

Ulfgar's head jerks up from his work at the sounds of cheering and children yelling outside. Sweat pours off of his forehead and dribbles off the end of his bulbous nose. He drops his massive smith's hammer onto a nearby work bench, and tosses a red-hot horseshoe into the quenching bucket. His one good eye squints behind his monocle, and the puckered flesh around his missing left eye twitches. He strokes his luxurious gray-brown beard from chin to mid chest.

He ambles over to a window and pulls aside the heavy leather curtain. A train of brightly colored wagons rolls into town from the west. A great red boxy wagon pulled by four draft horses rumbles over the wooden bridge across the Wash to settle on the village green. A green wagon follows closely behind along with a yellow one, a blue and more. Children scream in delight, and dogs yelp, as they all chase the Traveling Carnival into town. Even men and women, some of the town pouring from their houses and their shops, and some following on horseback or ox-drawn cart, call excitedly as the Carnival comes to a halt at its customary place.

Ulfgar quickly, but reservedly, discards his thick work gloves and heavy leather apron. He splashes some water on his face from the washing basin, doing his best to clean away the sweat and soot. He pulls on a respectable-looking overcoat and exchanges his work boots for a cleaner pair of soft doeskin. He brushes out his beard and long hair. Finally, he attaches the chain from his monocle to his overcoat and deposits the looking glass into his breast pocket. With the chain exposed and wearing his fine coat he knows he exhibits the proper level of elegance, but his massive arms and wild beard speak of strength. Maintaining necessary appearances is essential to commanding respect.

Ulfgar makes his way out to the Carnival.

The Brother

Ulfgar strides hurriedly but maintains his dignity. He nods politely to those he passes and waves to a well-regarded acquaintance here and there. People step aside as he nears his destination, making way for an esteemed elder on an important mission.

Ulfgar marches to one of the larger, and certainly less colorful, wagons. The great brown and green box hulks mightily behind a team of eight great oxen. The portside wall is split open horizontally, providing both an awning to shade shoppers and a countertop from which the proprietor can do business. The proprietor looks up from his work as Ulfgar approaches. His work instantly forgotten, he bellows, "Ulfgar, brother! Greetings and Moradin's blessings on you."

Ulfgar strides over to his brother and extends his right hand. They each grip the other's forearm in the traditional dwarfs' greeting. "It is good to see you, Jalkar," Ulfgar. "Moradin is kind to see you through your journeys." As quick as that the brothers, who have not seen each other in nearly a year, return to business. Jalkar tends to his customers' needs, and Ulfgar pitches in, fetching goods and evaluating trades offered by the villagers.

The Trade

As the afternoon sun dips behind the trees to the west the press of villagers at the Carnival begins to thin. Most of the important trades have been completed and people make their way to the side shows and games. For the next two weeks or so the wagons of the Traveling Carnival will spill forth with laughter and tales and foreign foods and drinks. Some people may come along to buy a new pot or a bolt of silk, but nearly all of the trading ends the first day of arrival.

Even the big trades will close before dawn. Ulfgar and Jalkar discuss matters for some time, dithering over the value of this item and that, but they quickly come to agree on the task at hand. Ulfgar sends his son Bracken back to the Fireaxe compound with thorough instructions. Jalkar's son Rurik leaves to make the rounds to the other wagons.

As the bonfire blazes near the Maypole, and the villagers 'ooh' and 'ah' at the latest extravaganza from the Strake Brothers Spectacle and Variety Show, the Fireaxe brothers meet with merchants from far and wide in the privacy of Jalkar's great wagon. Bracken and others of the Fireaxe clan have led a team of mules with a couple of carts over from the Fireaxe compound to Uncle Jalkar's wagon. Meanwhile, Rurik has brought together the chief merchants and traders in the Carnival to talk business with Ulfgar.

By midnight deals are struck and goods exchanged. Ulfgar offers ground meal and flour from the Fireaxe mill, worked steel and iron goods from the Fireaxe forge and other crafted goods from the Fireaxe compound. The Traveling Carnival will leave behind a great many luxuries and necessaries that the Fireaxe clan will have for their own use and for trade through the winter months with other villagers. Ulfgar knows that he will have items to offer to the needy and for the good of the community in later months. Respectability and honor both come with a price. And it's a price Ulfgar is willing to pay for the good of the clan.

NPC Spotlight: Vardigas Asmos

2008-03-03T22:10:00.002-06:00

Vardigas Asmos, an ancient half-elf seer and wise man, gives his advice to all who would seek his wisdom. He helps with birthings and tends to the sick. He putters about the village and to the nearer farmsteads when he feels up to it. When people far from town need his services he will take a ride with Jadestar or some other who will take him. He has lived a long time among the people of Berador and his time with them may soon run out.

Study the Stars

Vardigas looks from his seeing glass to the ancient journal and back to his seeing glass. He stares long and hard through the tube at the brilliant white stars in the night sky. He pans the telescope to the moon and again consults the journal. A quick calculation in his head and he draws the glass lens back to the right. He mumbles unintelligibly to himself and squints in the near darkness as he scribbles a note in the margin of the journal.

He closes the book and puts it into the top drawer of his workbench. He takes the lens caps from the clutter on the bench and carefully places them on each end of the telescope which he then folds closed. Standing, he totters across his laboratory towards the stairs and the lone torch that provides a dim light far from his work area. He always works better in the dark. He sees the stars better in the dark.

He takes the torch in his wrinkled and age-spotted hand and begins the arduous trek down the twenty seven steps of his tower. He calls it a tower. Everyone else sees a prominent and unconventional steeple on one end of his home, but Vardigas calls it a tower. A proper seer needs a tower. All the ancient books say so.

The town folk love the gray-eyed, gray-haired old man, but they pity him as well. His delusions of grandeur grow with his ears and nose as the years pass. His robe falls to ruin until someone brings him a new one. His long gray hair hangs in knots, but he never stops his studies or his research except to tend to the needs of the people. A true wise man tends to the needs of his people. All the ancient books say so.

The Omen

Many years ago, when Vardigas felt his age less and moved about more, he tended to a birth far out from the village. In the dead of winter, under the brightest full moon he had ever seen, a child came squalling defiance into the world. As the child drew its first breath the moon began to grow dark. As the child screamed its fear and frustration the shadow of the world took a great bite out of the moon. As the minutes passed the child shrieked its power and glory, the moon vanished from the sky, and the world grew truly dark. In that darkness the child stilled and softened and grew quiet and slept.

Since that dark night Vardigas has spent every spare moment and copper coin he could scrounge buying and reading books on astronomy and omens and signs. Every spring and fall he buys all he can find from the Traveling Carnivals. Every season he watches the sky for new signs. He spends sleepless nights studying the movements of the planets and the stars.

Over the years he has learned a bit about the dark moon child. The child is nothing special, only a sign of times to come. The times will be light or dark and the child will reflect those times. Vardigas watches the child closely and keeps his secrets to himself. He wouldn't have any harm done to the child. Who knows how the less educated and less wise would take these signs and omens? A true seer reads the signs and prepares, but does not interfere. All the ancient books say so.

A Brief History of Everything

2008-02-27T22:04:00.001-06:00

Legends, myth and history come of an interesting weave of tales, written accounts and songs of heroes long gone. Some things everyone knows; and some things everyone believes; and some things everyone hears, but no one quite understands. These tales make up the history of Greyshad.

Before the World

Eons ago the Primordials ruled all. The World did not exist and the Primordials controlled the fabric of existence. For reasons unknown and surely beyond the comprehension of mortal beings, the Primordials formed the Gods, divine beings of pure energy and the World, a place of matter and substance. The Primordials influence over the World caused mountains to rise and fall. Waters appeared and flowed over the face of the World. Lakes of fire and storms of unimaginable fury battled in the World.

The Gods, curious beings, watched as their progenitors created and destroyed at a whim. As the World twisted and turned, grew and fell asunder by the will of the Primordials, the Gods sought to duplicate their forebears' efforts. The Gods tried to manipulate the matter of the World, and in a flash of divine energy and primal matter Life began.

The Gods stared in awe at the beings they had made. Strange, wondrous and terrifying, the many forms of Life wandered the face of the World and explored and lived and died. The Primordials, indifferent to the Life the Gods had created, continued to make, remake and unmake the World. Their every move destroyed the Life the Gods had fashioned until it all faded from existence.

The Gods moved again to partake in the wonder of Creation. Again their influence caused Life to spring into being when their holy essence combined with the matter of the World. Again the Life of the Gods perished under the uncaring power of the Primordials.

As Life faded from the World the Gods turned to the Primordials and pleaded with them to stop their capricious making and unmaking that destroyed the Life the Gods had created. The Primordials, unconcerned with the Gods' needs continued to make and unmake the World.

Before the last of Life vanished from the World the Gods banded together and brought War upon the Primordials. They used their divine energy to destroy the pure matter of the Primordials. The Gods called upon the Life they had created, and it fought in the battle against the ancient beings of eternity. Gods perished, Primordials faded and Life died. The Primordials created Life of their own: great beings of pure elemental power, the Titans and the lesser Giants, to battle Life on the face of the World as the Primordials battled the Gods in the Astral space and the Elemental Chaos that grew around the World.

The wars lasted for time unimaginable, and in the end the Gods prevailed. All of the Primordials were destroyed or banished to some lost realm or imprisoned in the Elemental Chaos. Titans fled the World leaving the Giants behind, and the battles between the Life the Gods created and the Giants the Primordials crafted continue to this day.

Unknown to the Gods and the Primordials, as their war raged, the World bent and twisted under the pressure of their struggle. Warped and twisted reflections of the World appeared over time. At war's end the Gods discovered new realms. The Shadowfell, a dark and twisted reflection of the World, waits for the souls of the Life when it fades from the World. And the Feywild, a magical and wondrous, but no less twisted, reflection of the World, hosts a fascinating Life of its own.

And now these three Worlds exist side by side, ever torn by the struggles between the pure matter of the Elemental Chaos below and the pure energy of the Astral Sea above. The Gods still look down on the World and sometimes show favor to the Life they created. But rarely do they interfere directly with events there.

The Traveling Carnival (part one)

2008-02-26T22:17:00.002-06:00

The Traveling Carnivals arrive unscheduled but not unannounced in Berador two or more times a year. One arrives in spring before the May Day celebration and another after the Fall Equinox, but long before the biting chill of winter. The summer Carnivals are less reliable; some years as many as three may roll through town and other years there may be none at all.

First Sighting

Onnys Timmons, called Oni by his friends, sits atop the family house basking in the early spring sun. After a long and cold winter he couldn't wait to get outside and enjoy the warmer days. Well before noon, but later in the morning, he has finished some of his chores and takes what he believes a well-earned rest.

As he sits listening to birds chirp in the new season he spots a wagon rumbling beyond the pecan orchard down the Road. It slips in and out behind trees playing peek-a-boo with the boy. Oni scrambles to his feet and catches a glimpse of another wagon. And another.

"Mama! Papa!" he cries out as he scuttles to the edge of the roof heedless of any danger. He swings his legs out, flips over to his stomach and shimmies off the roof and down a banister on the front porch. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron and carrying a wooden spoon dripping with batter meets him at the door.

"What's the fuss, Onnys Timmons?" she asks.

The boy, breathless from exertion and with excitement let's out in a rush, "The Carnival's come, Mama; I seen 'em coming down by the pecans! I'm gonna race with 'em to town. Get Gale and Ry. Quick, Mama, hurry, before they leave us!"

"Gale! Ryness! You kids come out here with your brother. The Carnival's come to town."

With hurried instructions, Mama hands over some silver stars and copper pennies to the three kids. They will follow the Carnival in to town and be in line early to get the things Mama needs. And they'll each have five copper pennies to spend as they see fit.

to be continued

NPC Spotlight: Jadestar Kaldoran

2008-02-25T23:15:00.003-06:00

Jadestar Kaladoran, one of a handful of dragonborn in the area, is the closest thing Berador has to a sheriff or other law enforcement type. She wanders the area, sometimes on foot, sometimes mounted on her griffin and sometimes on a massive dire boar, but always alert. The villagers respect and appreciate her efforts and see to it that she and her mounts have proper food, shelter and care as needed.

The Watch

Jade pulls on the reins, not unkindly, and calls out, "Down, Chalgra." The massive beast leans to the right and begins a long circular descent, wings beating with a great whoosh every few seconds as it glides downward. Jade's excellent night vision may prove useful again. She spotted some movement and the tell tale glint of metal in the pale moonlight far below, and she must investigate. She doesn't normally patrol the area at night, but sometimes she likes a change of pace. And it's an absolute thrill to give in to Chalgra and let the griffin rush through the night air on the hunt. Even the sudden jolt of impact when the great bird strikes a deer or wild cat gives Jade a rush. Jade was born for this.

As she nears the ground Jade spots three man shapes leading a handful of cattle through the trees. She doesn't even try to sneak up on them. Chalgra is not the most stealthy of beasts and Jade would never reach them on foot unheard in her plate armor battle dress. Besides, subtle never was her style.

Tying the reins off on the saddle horn, Jade hefts her shield up into position and draws the massive bastard sword she wields one handed. She guides Chalgra in with her knees and softly called commands, approaching the poachers from behind. She waits for them to clear the copse of trees and get into the open ground. A few feet from the ground and some thirty yards behind them she calls a guttural battle prayer to Kord and Chalgra adds his screaming voice to the charge.

The Hunt

The seven cows break in seven different directions bellowing at the death come among them as the would-be-thieves scream in terror and drop to the ground. Several hundred pounds of griffin and dragonborn hurl just over their heads and dig furrows in the earth scant feet beyond. The griffin's claws rip at the ground as the beast turns back on the prey. Jade calls a command to the great bird, and it halts its charge its beak mere inches from the head of the nearest miscreant.

"Do not move and you may live to see the dawn," Jade speaks quietly and with the quiet command of one who is used to having her orders obeyed.

The men tremble in the dirt and alternately mumble prayers and beg for mercy. Jade dismounts and jerks open the face guard on her steel helm. Her eyes shine brightly in the moonlight, but the rest of her face is hidden in shadow. Chalgra steps back from the prey and surveys the three, all within easy reach of his deadly sharp and deadly quick beak and claws.

"Now, stand slowly and show me your hands," Jade instructs her charges. "Don't make any sudden moves. You'll spook Chalgra, and I won't be held responsible for what he does to you if you spook him." There's a hint of laughter in her voice as she gets a clearer view of who she has captured.

"Aw, Jade, do we really have to go through all this," the closest man whines as he gets to his knees. His hair is a greasy brown mop above a broken nose and two pig eyes. "Just take us in."

The Interrogation

"Shut up, Raynor. I'm of a mind to send you running with Chalgra on your tail. What the hell are you doing out here?"

The three men are all on their feet and gathering in front of Jade. They all wear ragged tunics and breeches and worn out leather boots. They have the look of common laborers and ragged ne'er-do-wells rolled into one. Obviously close kin; they all have squat, rounded faces and tiny, squinting eyes. Pug noses rest above narrow mouths with thin wormy lips. Well, except for Raynor's which has been broken half a dozen times.

The fellow on the left, a bit taller than the other two, answers Jade, "Well, it's been awhile since we had some beef steak. So, well, you know, we thought maybe we'd help ourselves to a bit o' this here."

"Dallin, you're as stupid as you are ugly. What were you going to do with seven cows? You couldn't butcher them all and store the meat. And you got nowhere to keep them. What were you thinking?"

"Well, we thought maybe we could sell them as we didn't eat right away," he replies.

Jade laughs quietly. "Yeah, I can just see you walking them in to town and offering them up to the highest bidder. You don't think anyone would notice Greyski's brand on them, do you?"

Glances pass between the three brothers, and looks of consternation come over their faces.

A hot, red spray washes over Jadestar's face as the wicked point of a broad head arrow explodes from Raynor's throat.

The Battle

"Get down!" she shouts as she leaps backwards, turning to her mount. The griffin is already on the move and as Jade's foot touches the stirrup she swings instantly into the saddle and Chalgra takes to the air. The two remaining thieves drop face first in the dirt again as massive wings beat the air a few feet above them.

"Find them, Chalgra; kill them all," Jade commands her mount, and the griffin answers with a shrill cry. Head panning left and right, eyes darting ahead both Jade and Chalgra search the tree line beyond. Jade spots a glint of moonlight on metal, but not before the griffin has already turned and begun a headlong charge towards the nearest goblin.

The massive talons shred into the shoulder and neck of the creature, nearly ripping its head from its body. Chalgra drags the poor creature from the ground and drops it from a height of some twenty feet. He turns in a tight circle, chasing after the others.

They are in a tight group of about a dozen. They clutch spears, clubs and swords. One struggles to reload a great crossbow. Chalgra bears down on them again, crying out his fury. The shock of the blow sends a thrill up Jadestar's spine as the griffin strikes down another goblin. A couple of thrown spears clatter harmlessly off of Jade's armor, and she dives into the panicked goblins shield forward. The goblin's face and skull shatter under the force of the shield and Jade collapses in a heap on top of her now dead foe.

She lumbers to her feet as three of the braver, or stupider, goblins make their way towards her. The battle is over before it even begins. With surprising grace for one encased in metal from head to toe, Jadestar thrusts and sweeps with her great bastard sword and in a matter of seconds three goblins are dead at her feet; one without its head.

The other goblins flee and Chalgra pursues, ripping them down one by one.

The Rescue

Jade makes her way back towards the brothers Salmon. Raynor is surely dead, but Dallin and Densin will still need tending to. She arrives to find them still in the dirt, but having inched over to their dead brother. They are arguing between themselves about what to do as Jade approaches. Dallin wants to run, while Densin thinks they should stay put.

"I told you you're stupider than you look, Dallin. Listen to your brother," Jade says to him as she steps up to them.

"I was just, well, ah," Dallin stammers.

"Shut up and come with me. We'll need to put a litter together for your brother and you two are going to drag him back to town."

She oversees the two of them as they pull together limbs for a litter and load their brother on it. Chalgra returns and Jade mounts up. She motions for them to move out and positions herself behind them. It's going to be a long night. Her patrol would have had her home by midnight. Now it'll be after dawn before these boys can drag their burden back to town. Well, there's nothing to it. She has to deal with them. It's her duty. Berador is her territory and she will watch over it always.

NPC Spotlight: Caer Branloth

2008-02-24T21:45:00.002-06:00

Caer Branloth, the elder matron and leader of the Branloth family, has earned the respect of the Berador community over the years. The Tieflings of the Branloth manor have long held a great deal of influence in the area owing mainly to their wealth. Lady Caer's wisdom and resourcefulness have proved her particular value to the locals as she has dealt directly with numerous problems in the past.

Calculation . . . Correction

Lady Caer checks her look in the hand mirror and approves. With her blue-black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her makeup accentuating the angular lines of her jawbone and the slight tilt to her eyes she has the desired imperious look of the disciplinarian. Her eyes glow with the hint of red-orange embers in deep black coal. The ebony spiral horns above her forehead reflect the candlelight, splintering it into dozens of points of light.

She lays the mirror on the desk among the papers and sundries and looks to the dark oak door across the way. Without rising from her soft leather chair she waves her hand dismissively. The door creaks open. "Come!" she calls; it is clearly a command, not a request.

A tall, dark-haired man pads into the room cautiously as if afraid to disturb its occupant. He has eyes of ebony. The tiny nubs of his horns emphasize his long, angular face. The family resemblance is unmistakable; the man is Lady Caer's close relative, likely a direct descendent. The Tiefling's sharp tail slashes left and right behind him in agitation as he approaches Lady Caer's desk. He drops to one knee, bows his head and waits in silence. The door closes silently behind him.

"Rise, Glathro, and report," Lady Caer sounds almost bored.

Glathro Branloth stands, clears his throat once and straightens the lapels of his tailored overcoat.

"Yes, well, the goblins will no longer trouble Bull Emmet's homestead. During the last attack I managed to sneak in behind them, and I grabbed one of the lieutenants. After some, ah, persuasion, he gave me the full particulars of what they were doing. Using that information I managed to track down and approach the war party leader."

Lady Caer leans forward one elbow, clearly interested, but trying not to show it on her placid face, "And? What did he have to say?"

"He told me who paid him to make the raids. He told me that he would destroy the Emmet farmstead and holdings. When they finish their work the goblins will return to the hills, and we will never hear from them again."

"You offered him payment to stop the raids immediately?"

"Of course I did; and exactly as you predicted he refused. When I told him who offered the payment he called his lieutenants together and they immediately began to strike camp. I watched the rear guard leave before I returned."

"So, what have you not told me? Who paid him to make the raids?"

"Lady Caer, we agreed, no you insisted, that I would not reveal that information to anyone, including you. 'Take it to your grave,' you said. And I intend to."

"Excellent," Lady Caer purrs and smiles lazily. "You're dismissed, Glathro. Thank you."

Glathro turns towards the door. His grandmother, Lady Caer, rises behind him and lifts a black metal rod from the desk. Glathro hears the soft mumbling as Lady Caer calls on the power of the rod. He leaps to his left, hoping to tumble away from the deadly blast. He is not nearly fast enough. Black tendrils of fiendish energy spring from the Nine Hells through the rod in Lady Caer's hand and strike the young Tiefling in the back. His muscles convulse, and he stands frozen in motion for an instant and then he crumples lifeless to the floor. Faint wisps of acrid smoke rise from his ruined form.

Lady Caer puts the rod back onto the desk. Lifts the mirror and examines her features again. A bead of blood runs from her nose, and she wipes it away with a tissue from the box on her desk. She motions to the door and it opens again.

"Claudius, could you come please dispose of this mess in here? And bring in some flowers from the garden. The odor in here is . . . irksome."

Into the Wild: What Terror This?

2008-02-21T20:53:00.003-06:00

The Wild hosts many strange and fabulous creatures, many of them dangerous. Strange beasts, inhuman wildlings, faeries from a wondrous realm and death from the shadows each call different parts of the Wild home. To journey beyond the bounds of civilization is either very brave or very foolish . . . which often depends upon the success of the journey.

As extraordinary and bizarre as some creatures of the wild may be, one of the most horrible is all too familiar and yet terrifyingly different . . .

The Reavers

For the last several generations journeys between the towns and villages of men has become more dangerous and less sure. As the Wild encroaches upon the civilized lands the terrors of goblins and wild beasts, giants and faeries have grown. A more recent and wholly more disturbing danger comes not from some monster from the other side or a demon from the deep but from men gone mad with bloodlust.

The grandfathers among men and any full grown elf or dwarf will tell of times when the Reavers didn't harry men's travels. Approximately seventy years ago, as the roads became more dangerous and people less traveled, a sudden terror struck from the Wild without warning. Caravans and rangers, families and soldiers all fell victim to the terror of the Reavers. Any who would travel the vast distances between Berador and Roth must travel in force or face the certain torture and eventual death at the hands of the almost human killers.

Over the years people have learned to avoid them . . . usually. The Reavers strike only in certain areas of the land, at times that can almost be predicted, and only against unarmed or small troops. Their crimes against their victims are beyond imaging. Rape, torture and cannibalism merely begin to catalog their atrocities.

No one knows where they come from or why. Their victims do not live to speak of them and no one escapes them once attacked. They never surrender in battle nor do they retreat. The few that have been taken unconscious from the battlefield soon kill themselves in captivity.

They are a real live bogeyman come to haunt the traces between the civilized lands of men . . . and they wait for the unwary travelers between the cities.

NPC Spotlight: Serra Bennigan

2008-02-20T21:03:00.004-06:00

Serra rises from the saddle, standing in the stirrups, and stretches her left hand across her forehead shading her eyes from the red glare of the afternoon sun as it sets far down the road. Her right hand brushes the pommel of the sword at her waist, and she considers her situation. With only two hours until full dark she'll never make it to a suitable campsite before nightfall. With no cover in any direction nearby she knows she can't stay here. She glances over her shoulder, looks down the Road behind her and scowls.

Short cut, dirty blonde hair peeks out in several spots from under Serra's beat up, wide-brimmed leather hat. Squinting, her pale green eyes peer out over a nose too large and a wide mouth given to deep frowns and few smiles. Serra is tall for a woman and a bit too muscular for many men's tastes. She doesn't consider men's tastes to be particularly important at the moment. She wears her riding leathers and mail with the ease and comfort of long use.

Serra jerks the reigns, and her massive black warhorse turns with a belligerent snort. She's not likely to outrun any danger riding Nightbreaker, but the first hostile that approaches will end up a red, wet smear beneath the beast's iron shod feet. Not that Serra will have time to celebrate or even consider her foe's fate; any serious danger she faces out here in the Wild will come in screaming packs and will likely overwhelm her. She briefly reflects on the wisdom of bringing Nightbreaker on her patrol run. Maybe a faster, less combative horse would suit her better in the future. As she turns towards the dubious shelter of the Greywood far behind she hopes she gets the chance to test that theory.

Patrol Gone Bad

The problem started two days ago . . . or ten days ago . . . or maybe it was five years ago. It all depends on how you look at it.

Ten days ago it was Serra's turn to make the run from Berador up to Dalton's Camp. It's a simple patrol: five days on the Road; three days resting and getting a feel for Dalton; five days to ride back home. For years out of memory the Greywood Wardens have patrolled the Road and the Wash, watching for signs of trouble and helping travelers in need. Sometimes they find trouble and deal with it. Sometimes they find travelers they can help. Sometimes they don't make it home.

Serra Bennigan joined the Wardens five years ago. Goblins raided her family's farm while she and her father tended to business in Berador. The vile creatures slaughtered the men and the elderly and took the women and children for slaves. When her father disappeared a week later on a counter raid into goblin territory Serra found herself alone for the first time in her life. The Greywood Wardens took Serra in and gave her a purpose in life.

Since that time she has served the civilized peoples around Berador faithfully and quietly as is the Wardens' way. When it came her time to run up to Dalton's Camp she thought nothing of it. She had made this trip, and others, dozens of times over the years. So, she packed and loaded her gear, mounted up on Nightbreaker, and headed out to see what the news would be this month.

The trip up to Berador was uneventful. She kept an easy pace and stayed overnight at the rangers' campgrounds between the two villages. On her fourth night out she met with a dwarf family out from Dalton's Camp making the trek to Berador. They had it their minds to visit the halfling camps at Berador and maybe to take a trip down to the Palantir if their coin held out. Serra passed the evening in their company swapping stories.

The Trouble

Serra found Dalton's Camp the same as always. Filthy, sweaty miners mingled with whores and peddlers and haggled over the value of beer, ore and a night in the sack. There had been no notable trouble of late, and the regular ore shipments for the month would leave town as scheduled. It was around noon on the second day out from Dalton when she sighted the crows.

A great cloud of black birds circled and dived some distance south of the Road. They couldn't be more than a mile away, and Serra set out to investigate.

to be continued . . .

Into The Wild: Unfriendly Neighbors

2008-02-19T22:00:00.004-06:00

Beyond the bounds of the village and its outlying farms the Wild beckons with tales of forgotten treasures, fearsome foes and fame and glory for those brave enough or foolhardy enough to face the challenges. Some few travelers may journey from Berador to the nearby towns and villages or even far beyond to the great city of Roth, but they stay to the roads and well known paths, and even then they must beware of great dangers. But for those willing to take even greater risks adventure waits off the beaten paths in the forests and hills and mountains of the land. The lucky few will return from their exploits with wealth and tales and glory . . . most will never return at all.

Unfriendly Neighbors

Some dangers come easy to the mind. Goblins and their kin infest the foothills of the White Mist Mountains all about Berador. They fear to tread in the immediate environs of civilized lands, but woe to the unprepared who wanders too far from the shelter of town or village. Sometimes even the outlying farms will fall victim to goblin raiding parties, warg hunts or hobgoblin pillagers. Mostly the goblins stick to their own lands and avoid stirring up too mischief among the villagers, but they will not hesitate to capture, kill or steal from any who wander from the road or take their rest out of doors at night.

Recent rumors speak of a gnoll enclave that lies not too far north of Berador. It has been many years since the gnolls attacked the villages of men, but recent tales of assaults on the Road and the Wash speak to a potential danger that people cannot ignore. Should the gnolls rearm themselves and decide to attack the civilized lands Berador seems a likely starting point. Any who would wander north should be prepared to contend with these bestial creatures.

Farther afield, but still in the neighborhood, lies the dreary wood of the Silverine Forest. Hundreds of years ago the elves fled a terror in the wood. None would speak its name, and tales diverge wildly regarding its nature. They speak in turn of a demon lord or a fairy prince or a foul beast from the heart of the earth. All of the stories agree on one thing: the elves abandoned their mighty towers in the Silverine Forest and have never returned. What force could drive an entire nation from its haven? What wonders did the elves leave behind in their haste?

NPC Spotlight: Gerry Woodcote

2008-02-18T21:30:00.001-06:00

Gerry Woodcote is the local holy man. He follows the tenets of Pelor, but acknowledges the power and significance of all of the major deities. He makes rounds of the village and the outlying farms on a regular basis tending to the spiritual needs of the region. He leads regular services for all of the major holy days as well as tending to weddings and funerals in the region.

Good Morning

A bright yellow beam creeps across the dusty wood plank floor, gradually making its way to the misshapen lump of a brightly striped and multi-colored quilt covering the bed on the far side of the room. The beam lights on the smooth and kindly face of a peacefully sleeping man. Brow furrows and eyelids flutter, but only for a moment before the bright blue eyes flash open to greet another day.

Sitting up Gerry casually brushes his fingers through his shoulder length and board straight sandy blonde hair. He splashes a bit of water on his face to wipe the sleep from his eyes, drops his night robe in a heap at the foot of the bed and moves to the wardrobe.

He takes his time choosing his dress for the day. He selects a finely tailored, bright white tunic with a bit of embroidery on the breast. As he pulls it over his head, the bright yellow sun resting over his heart, the blouse swallows his thin frame. He tucks the long tails of the tunic into a pair of doeskin trousers. A heavy brown cord tightly cinched at the waist accentuates his lithe build. A pair of brown leather boots laced to mid calf completes his outfit.

Gerry Woodcote, servant of Pelor and all of the gods, is ready to face the day . . . and the ladies.

NPC Spotlight: Tamil "Tam" Rivers

2008-02-15T18:00:00.004-06:00

Tamil Rivers is the owner and operator of the Maple House, Berador's only public ale house and rooms for rent. The villagers and farmers from nearby frequent Tamil's place to trade gossip and tales, slake their thirst on a hot summer day and to discuss important "town business." This last item occurs rather rarely.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

The afternoon sun beams into the common room of the Maple House through the two large windows flanking the stout oak door, providing the only light in the otherwise dim drinking hall. Motes of dust sparkle and swirl in the sunlight as the door swings inward to admit a slim fellow in clean, well-kept tunic and trousers.

"Gerry!" several of the patrons call out in a delighted chorus, and the newcomer's sharp blue eyes and easy smile brighten the dusky room just a little more. The heavy door thuds closed as Gerry makes his way to a bench near the bar. Two roughly dressed and somewhat dirty field hands scramble to make room for him, and a blonde beauty with laughing green eyes plunks a mug of maple beer down as Gerry takes his seat.

The general buzz of the place, briefly interrupted by the priest's arrival, resumes as ten different conversations pick up where they left off. Gerry sips his beer and listens politely as the sweaty field hand on his left complains of the drudgery of digging potatoes and the mess of dirt under his fingernails and the heat of the late summer sun.

The Proprietor

"Heat?" a well-known voice calls out with a hint of laughter and more than a hint of bravado. "You don't know the first thing about heat, Kerry Wakefield!" the voice growls and grows in volume as its owner moves from behind the bar.

Tamil "Tam" Rivers deposits an empty beer mug on the bar and tosses his gleaming white towel over his shoulder where it rests as he shuffles out towards Gerry's table. Tam is a bear of a man, fully six feet four inches tall, barrel-chested and a bit round in the belly. The streaks of gray in his shaggy brown mane and thick brown beard tell the true tale of his age. He wears a white apron over his workman's coveralls. As he shambles to his spot the room grows quiet in anticipation of the tale. Everyone can see he's favoring his left leg a bit more than usual. Everyone in the joint recognizes the walk; Tam's going to tell the Dragon story again.

The Dragon Tale

Tam jerks his bone pipe from between his teeth and tosses it on the table. He takes a pull from the heavy clay jar sitting on the table and drops it back in its place. His right eyelid flickers and his eye looks a bit damp as he clears his throat and inhales the hot, sweet flavor of the whiskey. "Seems when I was your age, Kerry, I felt a bit o' the heat myself," Tam grumbles. He's just loud enough to be heard throughout the room and quiet enough to draw his audience to him. They've all heard the story a hundred times before, but Tam's quite the entertainer, and he knows well the power of his voice.

"Aye, was 'long about thirty five, maybe forty years ago when I had a mind to see the world. 'Venturin' they called it. Well, I had me a ‘venture or two." Everyone leans in, listening intently, sipping their drinks and paying well for the refills as the blonde hostess makes her rounds. Tam tells the tale well, and everyone is rightly impressed with size and majesty of the beast. They imagine they can feel the heat of its breath themselves as it barrels over them, fangs dripping flaming death. As the hero lands his crashing axe blow to the serpentine neck of the monster the crowd cheers.

The Reason

Tam's eyes lighten. He smiles knowingly, nods to a nearby patron and winks at one of the pretty young ladies in the crowd. He appreciates a good audience when he tells his tale. And he loves it when they spend their money on his fine maple beer.

Starting Small

2008-02-15T17:00:00.005-06:00

While getting ready to start up my own D&D 4th edition campaign I came across James Wyatt's Dungeoncraft article. I liked it. So, I'm stealing some of his ideas.

Berador

Introduction

Nestled on the western side of the White Mist Mountains just north of the Palantir River, Berador is a small farming village populated mostly by humans. A smattering of all of the common races of the world call Berador home. The people of Berador eke out a meager existence among the shattered ruins of a once great but nigh forgotten kingdom. The farmers live hard, mean lives struggling to feed themselves and hold back a bit each autumn to see themselves through the winter. The lucky few manage to squeeze a bit of surplus out of the land to trade with the brave souls of the Traveling Carnivals that make the rounds every season or so.

Beradorans have little love for change or surprise. It is hard enough to feed a family and survive the winter while dealing with the vagaries of weather and the common pests of the lands. Anything that upsets the natural order of life is at the least regarded as untrustworthy and usually is considered dangerous. Outsiders should not expect a warm welcome or a kind word in Berador.

The Neighborhood

Berador is a clear patch of farmland scraped out of the forested hills of the White Mist Mountains. It lies at the intersection of an ancient road and the Blue Wash. The Blue Wash flows out of the Silverine Forest far to the north and southward into the great Palantir River. The Road, as the villagers call it, runs from the mining town of Dalton some days northeast and goes as far as the great city of Roth to the southwest. Other villages and towns dot the countryside, none closer than several days’ ride along the Road or a similar distance up or down the Blue Wash.

The Village

The village proper consists of a handful of houses and the businesses of the local tradesmen encircled by a crude wooden palisade. A great millhouse straddles the Blue Wash on the north side of town. The southern edge of the village abuts a tiny lake formed by a natural dam in the ‘Wash. The Road bisects the town from east to west. No gates protect the entrances to the village at the Road. In times of need the people roll wagons into the road to close up the openings in their wall.

A tiny temple dedicated to [the locally acknowledged gods] sits in the center of the village. Gerry Woodcote leads local religious services including weddings, funerals, and annual festivals and holidays. The people of Berador are not particularly religious, but they do acknowledge the power of the gods. They make the expected offerings and perform the appropriate rites to avoid any undue wrath of the gods. The people of Berador look to Gerry as a counselor and advisor as well as spiritual leader.

The Maple House serves as a public gathering place and the local watering hole. Tamil Rivers, the proprietor, maintains a handful of rooms for the rare traveler or the local farmer caught in town by the dark. The people of Berador hold Tamil in high regard for his personal wealth, renowned prowess and worldly knowledge. Tamil traveled the lands as a lad, and as he will tell all and sundry given the time and a bit of beer in his belly, he once slew a dragon in the Craggy Pass a way west of Old Oshland. While he holds no official position of authority in the village, Tamil’s opinion is much sought after and his approval is a must for any significant decision.

The Farms

Beyond the pitiful protection of the palisade dozens of farms dot the countryside. The family farms grow over time as weddings and births increase the mouths to feed and the hands available to work. Most households span several generations and include several adult siblings and their spouses and children. The most common wedding gift in the region is the key to a new bedroom added on to the family home. On occasion a very large household will split into two or more nearby dwellings as the logistics of managing more than two dozen or so people in a single house becomes unmanageable. Very rare is the “loner” couple who leaves the family home to start a new farmstead without at least two or more adults or near grown children to help carry the load.

The Goods

The people of Berador survive on their own with little trade necessary between the village and outsiders. The farmsteads of the village provide the necessities of food, clothing and shelter. Trout from the Blue Wash and catfish from Lake Callie supplement the cattle, grains and greens from the farms. Most families provide for their own needs, but some minor crafted and manufactured goods come from the village craftsmen including a blacksmith, cobbler, tailor, miller and baker. The seasonal arrival of the Traveling Carnivals brings limited metal goods and exotic fare to the village in exchange for furs, foodstuffs and forest goods.

The People

Humans comprise the vast majority of the farmers and villagers of Berador. From the grizzled veteran Tamil Rivers and the village priest Gerry Woodcote to the farmers in the farthest outlying homesteads, most of the people in Berador are human. Twenty or so dwarfs, all of the Fireaxe clan, live inside the village proper and fill several craft roles in the village. They own the smith and mill. Another clan, the Stonejaws, holds a large farmstead several miles from the village. The Stonejaws raise goats and sheep. Berador’s tailor is an elf by the name of Gemini Starseer. He and his wife make their residence in town with their children. No other elves live inside the palisade. Three enclaves of elves live in the forests around the village. They trade their woodland wares with the rest of the village and are accepted as integral members of the community. A single halfling troop lives on the south bank of Lake Callie. They live in a chaotic mix of burrows in the higher hills, houses on stilts, mobile wagon homes and raft houses that ply the river north and south of town. For the most part they are fishermen, but some make a living providing travel and cartage services on the river and on the Road. Many more halflings come and go with the Traveling Carnivals.