Wonders of the World

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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

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

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.