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Way to go, farewell2kings! Fantastic! I'm in Amber's camp - no word at all, so my submissions must have been untimely. Anyone have any sense when the august arbiter assemblage will meet again?
I added one each to FR and Homebrew. As an aside, this is a great poll, and I appreciate its value. Someday, however, it might be fun to find out who plays Call of Cthulhu, Traveller, and a dozen other games that step outside of the swords-&-sorcery context, whose heritage also goes back in time.
Thanks everybody! I dug out the old adventure manuscript, cobbled together a renewed query, and fired it off last night. I’d never have done ANY of that if Sharoth hadn’t started this thread and the rest of you hadn’t been so astonishingly supportive. Okay, now, PLEASE HELP! I’m new to the boards and trying to figure everything out. From the “Critique My Query” thread and the thread entitled, “Is there a black hole in the submissions room at Paizo,” my sense is that we don't share queries until the editors reject them. Is that right? If so, on Neeklus’ question, I better wait for a rejection before posting it. (Much as I’d love your feedback right away!) Then, once the inevitable rejections come in, we can post them on the “Critique My Query” thread to get feedback from everyone, right? Do we offer only our "best" rejected queries, the ones on which we're puzzled or angry about the rejection? Or do we offer our worst ones to get a wider range of feedback? Is the “black hole” thread the best place to get insight into the schedule on which the editors review and decide on queries? I see there’s a multi-step process for query review. Can anybody summarize that for me? Do we know what queries, in terms of when they were submitted, the editors will considered at this week’s meeting? I’ve read some of each of those threads and intend to read them completely. Until then, am I correct that these are the editors’ expressed, present preferences: LENGTH: Short adventures, 5,000 to 8,000 words are ideal.
Have the editors expressed preferences beyond these? Do the editors ever discuss a good but not perfect query with an author? For instance, I submitted several queries recently listing sizes above 5,000 to 8,000 words. I could, however, provide sweet manuscripts for most of them within that range. If length is the problem, is there room for a dialogue about it, or is a flat rejection the norm? I'd be very grateful for any help!
Nah. I teach figure painting for a living. If my wife doesn't mind me staring at naked women all day, she's not going to freak out over a friend holding my hand in a time of need. Besides, now that she's heard I'm venturing down into the bowels of our house with intent to fight through the spiderwebs, she's too busy to notice. She's happily scribbling out that lengthy list of all the things I need to tote up and take over to Goodwill.
I guess I'm just the exception to the rule. I'm always looking for a complex storyline. Maybe that's why this game is so compelling. There's no right answer; it's flexible enough to appeal to all kinds of tastes. My problem is simply staying a step ahead of my players. My group is comprised of four women and three men in their thirties and early forties, all successful professionals, and all brighter than me. To keep them engaged, I continuously cast about for complex mysteries that unfold slowly, clue by clue and battle by battle, until the PCs resolve the plot’s overarching question in a sudden moment of blinding understanding. (Ideally, this revelation springs from that final plot twist that no one saw coming, but that all agree everyone should have seen coming, because the clues were there all the time.) I've been delighted by the adventures published since the last of the AoWAP. “The Weavers” leads the pack, in my opinion, with great venues, a solid mystery, and the life of everyone in The Styes potentially hanging in the balance. “Siege of the Spider Eaters” turns the tables on the PCs, revealing perceived foes to be victims. Excellent! The complex subtlety of the revenge pursued by the hag covey in “Man Forever” is gloriously insidious. LOVE the idea of changing the witnesses thoughts so they don't know they're hiding the truth. And I thought the clues, decoys, riddles, and handouts that allow the PCs to unravel the piranha-filled mystery of “Tealpeck’s Flood” were marvelous! The more handouts and visual aids, the better! So I haven't reached the saturation point on plot twists yet, but that could just be me. Despite my quirky tastes, I whole-heartedly agree that Amber's query's thoroughly engaging. It got me excited, and I'd love to have seen it as an adventure. At its heart, a good adventure is a good adventure, and hers has that imaginative spark that makes me want to see more. (And she's still got the coolest avatar I've seen on the boards.) - Ted
Thanks for the praise, Sharoth! Yes, Tim Hildebrandt's death was a terrible loss. He is the only childhood hero of mine I ever met. His son Charles and Charles's wife Beth, with whom I used to practice law, and who are both in my D&D group, are both wonderful people, as generous as any I've met. Their house is filled with Charles's father's paintings. You're just sitting around chatting about stuff when, WHAM!, it hits you. On the wall just behind Beth is the four-foot painting of the fellowship passing between the feet of the Argonath (an image I cut out of the Hildebrandt calendar and hung over my bed for years as a kid). Look left, and there's a dragon from another book cover staring down at you. Look right, and there's a city floating in space. Visiting their house is like a trip to fairyland. Tim's death was also cruelly unexpected. Tim had suffered a stroke the year or so before but was recovering beautifully. Then he got the flu. That's all. The flu. His family took him to the hospital because they feared complications related to his earlier stroke. As I understand it, the medical staff gave Tim an I.V. but didn't do it properly. An infection started at the I.V. site and, before anyone noticed it, got into his bloodstream and attacked his heart. By the time they realized what was wrong, it was too late. I lack words to express what an inspiration Tim was to me over the years. He's one of the people that brought magic into my life.
I whole-heartedly concur, Medesha. I'd have purchased that edition just for your adventure. I spent the last hour scratching the thinning hair on my head, asking myself what I would do with your adventure to improve upon it and make it my own if I were running it. I came up with three things (and quite a few hairs). Take these as mere suggestions. I genuinely like your proposal as it stands. First, I love the horror of an underground Yuan-ti temple, partially in ruins, that leads down to frozen chambers where the climax occurs. I do! Nonetheless, my sense is that the editors (that's the TRULY TERRIFIC, KIND, GIFTED, AND ALL KNOWLEDGEABLE editors, in case they're monitoring this stuff) are looking for TO-DIE-FOR locations for their dungeons. Neat as your underground temple is, I feel like its familiar to me just from your query's description. I think that, perhaps, that's not a good thing. Those of us who are would-be published adventure writers have to come up with genuinely novel locations, I think. We need to write adventures that take place on both the material plane and, within the same physical space, a transitive plane like the ethereal or shadow plane. We need to set our adventures deep within an ocean that is inexplicably crusting over with ice on the surface, or swiftly freezing altogether unless the PCs can stop it. We need to shrink our PCs down to the size of ants and set their adventure in the Darwinian horror of an old maid's vegetable garden gone to seed. We need to set our adventure in a volcano that PCs know is about 13 hours shy of erupting. I fear the that the time for the beloved underground labyrinth has passed. Second, I'm a little unclear on the Yuan-tis' motives. The farmers were unfortunate enough to set their farm on top of an ancient Yuan-ti temple that the snake folk have decided to renovate, so they can hide their champion there until he's needed. Given that, why do they let their snakes go feast on the surface farmers? Isn't that exactly the kind of thing that invites pesky adventuring parties to come snooping around? I also think that any adventure that includes a running clock needs to make that clear to the PCs. Here, if the PCs don't reach the ice chambers in time, they may miss their chance to catch and kill the Yuan-ti champion. They don't need to know EXACTLY what happens when the time runs out, but I think they do need to know that TIME'S RUNNING OUT! Otherwise, after moving through the dungeon in a cautions and reasonable fashion, they'll be very disappointed, and perhaps feel somewhat ripped off, when they get to the climax and discover they missed it. Once they know their racing the clock, however, they have to decide between caution and dangerous risks, which is both exciting and scary! Third, I think the story might have been stronger with a good plot twist near the end. We don't need to write adventures as surprising as "The Sixth Sense" or that end with lines as memorable as, "It's a cookbook!" But a solid plot twist that PCs SHOULD have seen coming provides a sense of closure that's hard to beat. Perhaps the dead farm woman's husband is a Yuan-ti pureblood masquerading as a human to protect the hidden temple. Perhaps he tries to convince the PCs that there's nothing to investigate, or points the finger at a red herring. This would, of course, leave the PCs with a bad taste in their mouth with respect to his character, but probably fail to cause them to press him in earnest. And then, at the end, perhaps he's waiting in the ice chamber when the PCs arrive. "You fools!" he cries. "I gave you every chance, every reason to turn away from this end, but you were too stubborn or stupid to listen! Such is the way with humans. Very well!" he hisses, releasing the champion. "You have brought this doom upon yourselves! Now, you shall learn the folly of your ways!" Or something like that. That's my three cents. Take them for what they're worth. I really DID like your query! Keep writing! And more Yuan-ti!
Hey Steve! I meet you at long last! "Fiend's Embrace" was a phenomenal adventure. Great backstory, terrific keep, and probably the most imaginative set of possible-other-adventure hooks I've ever seen, scattered liberally throughout the countryside. "The Lost Army" gave me both a dozen story ideas and a shivering case of the creeps. The standing stones from "The Mud Flats" sparked an image that, in turn, inspired a goofy adventure whose manuscript DUNGEON's editors will soon be ripping to shreds and using to line their cockatrice cage. Of those six vignettes that I tried to convince DUNGEON would look good around the Cold Marshes map, I had the most fun with Zarlag's Hut. I took some liberties with your description (gulp!), but the hut I painted (which I made deliberately reminiscent of Baba Yaga's hut) was just plain fun. I spent between a half day and a day on each of those vingettes, and it was about the most enjoyable week I've spent illustrating. All in all, you write very inspiring stuff!
Wow! Thanks everybody! My submission from way back when was all about the cathedral. In fact, about half of the images in the "Illustrations" section of my Artwork page were paintings I made to show my players what they saw when I first ran this adventure. These images include, "Wereleopards" (the first illustration) "Bael's Return" (the night hag stepping out of Hades and into our world) "Feroosh" (the four-winged half-dragon/half-sprite), "Emberfall" (home base for the adventure), "Theft of the Stone" (the wereleopard holding the glowing sphere and the unconscious dude, the first scene of the adventure), "Ghost", and "Chasm Bridge" (the ghost's haunt). I always think its more fun to describe the setting for my players, and then whip out a picture and say, "Through the snow and the shifting light, you see THIS!" I sent the originals for all of these illustrations in that monstrous box I sent to DUNGEON along with the adventure's manuscript, inspiring their STRANGEST SUBMISSION EVER article. In the "Gaming Exhibits" section of my Artwork page, the first four illustrations were also from that adventure. On my Cartography page, the "Mountainside" map (the second on the page, showing both Emberfall and the Cathedral's location), was the main overland map for the adventure. The four maps on the bottom row of my Cartography page depict the ruins of the cathedral itself, the main adventure site. Boy, that all takes me back a few years! The challenge now (if the editors would green light the query again after all these years) would be trimming the adventure to 10,000 words or less. When I wrote the initial manuscript, there wasn't a clear limit on pages or words. I'd need to carve down the scale of the cathedral itself -- too many rooms for the word limitation. That means, among other things creating new maps, an enjoyable but time-consuming job! I think I'll hold off until they either accept or reject my manuscript for that different adventure they're considering now. That whole don't-rock-the-boat thing. Thanks everybody for all the kind words! And the thoughtful suggestions about the website's format! Now I'm genuinely excited about that adventure again. You folks sure can be inspiring!
Okay, as long as I'm not acting in a socially unacceptable fashion. The link to my illustration and cartography website is www.ashenvaleart.com. It's severely outdated at the moment, particularly in the "fine art" section. (The link to my fine art website is www.edwardjreed.com. That site's more up to date, particularly with respect to awards.) I built both sites myself with Dreamweaver and Photoshop. My knowledge of website construction is EXTREMELY LIMITED, so there are no fancy bells or whistles. Tell me what you think!
Thank you so much! I'm blushing big time. I'd be delighted to give you the link to my website for my illustration and cartography work (and my fine art work too, which has it's own website, if you like), but I'm new to these messageboards. What's the etiquette on that? Is it a faux pas to pass around your weblinks? I've been fortunate enough to convince DUNGEON to use me as a cartographer in the past, and the editors are presently reviewing a manuscript of mine that I submitted with a fairly rockin' map (at least in my opinion). I've asked for a shot at illustrating that adventure if they decide to print it (fingers, toes, & eyes crossed!). But I don't want to do ANYTHING else to rock that boat now! (My manuscript was uncomfortably longer than the length they requested. Bad author. Bad, bad author!) I'd better wait until that submission plays out before aggressively soliciting illustration work. Thanks again for all the kind words! I'm going to be hard to live with all weekend.
DUNGEON approved the query, but balked at the length of the adventure and had a reasonable series of objections to some content that stretched the D&D rules a tad too far. They sent the manuscript back, with a helpful set of comments, for a rewrite. The truth is that Chris Thomasson and the other folks then at DUNGEON were exceptionally kind, given the monstrous scale of the materials dropped on them. Then the lazy author dropped the ball. I know. I'm the lazy author. When I sent in the adventure with the illustrations, I never imagined I'd end up on the mag's website as an object lesson on how NOT to submit an adventure! That made my wife roar. And I'm delighted that they've kept that STRANGEST SUBMISSION article on the site all these years. I liked that adventure. Just last night I was considering retooling it and re-submitting a query for it. Then, out of nowhere, I saw this thread. Looks like the cosmic tumblers are falling into place. If you'd like to see more of the illustrations from that adventure, let me know. I've got a pile of them up on my website. The adventure featured wereleopards, and I did several paintings of them. I've since sold one of the illustrations to a different publisher, who put it on a book cover, breaking up the set (which might have been a poor choice if DUNGEON ever accepts the adventure).
My two cents are as follows: First, compose a one- or two-sentence story. Something like this: "A necromancer residing in a secret complex under a tomb in the city graveyard has stolen 13 children from an orphanage to sacrifice in a dark ritual that will let him animate 13 zombies each night every night that he kills a child. A caretaker at the orphanage awoke in the night to find the children gone, followed cries in the night to the graveyard, then lost the track and turned to the PCs for help." Or this: "During the summer, an unfortunate trespasser accidentally activated long forgotten power in a menhir circle that released gale-force winds and winter temperatures, which are spreading out from the circle at a rate of a mile per day. The local sage in the city only five miles from the circle knows that the only way to stop the new ice age is to enter the caverns beneath the circle and destroy the air elemental imprisoned there." Second, make an outline of four or five encounters that logically follow this succinct plot. Choose among (1) role-playing encounters (talking to the orphanage caretaker or local sage), (2) combat encounters (at least two or three encounters should be combats), trap encounters, (3) trap encounters, (4) puzzle, riddle, or mystery encounters, and (5) environmental or other hazard encounters (blinding ice storm, quicksand, etc.) Figure out a logical order for these encounters that fits your storyline. Third, figure out at least two (and preferably three) ways the PCs can decide to advance from one encounter to the next. Consider also links between the encounters if the PCs take them out of order. Fourth, second guess yourself. Ask what you would do at each step, looking to see likely paths or choices different from the ones you want that the PCs might take. Then think about ways to bring them back to your path. Fifth, draw a rough map for the climax series of encounters (or any within a “dungeon”). As others have mentioned, below-ground dungeons confine the players to following the route you choose, so favor these at first. Place monsters, traps, and adversarial NPCs first, then treasure second. Use the DMG's suggestions on treasure amounts. Jot down several descriptive words to spit out when the PCs reach each encounter. For example, when they meet the orphanage caretaker, jot down: "elderly human woman, bone-white hair, palsy in hands, weeps constantly, blames self, cannot maintain train of thought." For a dungeon room, something like, "uncomfortably low ceiling, startlingly frigid air, first breath is so sharp it hurts lungs, skin tingles and tightens with goose bumps, smell of ozone, wavering bluish light casts only shadowy illumination." Last, find or build stat blocks for the monsters and antagonistic NPC's. As a post script, consider how this adventure might lead to future adventures you have in mind. Go back and lay seeds for that adventure throughout this one -- things NPC's say in passing; clues that will lead somewhere, but not yet; perhaps even a torn top half of a map. In sum, my best suggestion is always to start with the story. Great villains and cool locales are fabulous sources of inspiration, but cannot alone drive an adventure. Start with the story, then add the rest. And above all else, have fun! The players will look to you to set the tone. Make them welcome. Give their ideas a reasonable chance of success. Let them take detours if it makes everyone laugh (but look for ways to steer them back to the main course of your adventure.) Show them the thrill you get from the game. Don't fret a rule you cannot remember, just wing it! Best of luck!
(mumbles under breath and counts on fingers) Hmm, let's see, that was (1) a deliberate (2) misrepresentation of fact, (3) intended to cause another to rely upon it, (4) upon which another relied (5) to his detriment. (whispers aloud) Why Fang, what a lovely little fraud! But remember, this PostMonster dude is our REAL obstacle. He's some sort of gaming industry official, so bribery won't work. Gaming industry professionals have no interest in money.
I have to say, Punkassjoe, (and perhaps I speak for many of the posters who've been dungeon mastering for years) that I'm delighted to have a chance to offer my ideas and suggestions. I'm impressed by both (1) your willingness to listen to the ideas of others to get your campaign off on the right foot, and (2) the amount of thought and energy you're devoting to your task. You're showing all the care and good judgment that makes a great DM. Well done. Now, on a separate tact, here's is an out-of-the-box idea that could easily go EXTREMELY wrong. I'll toss it up for consideration nonetheless because, if it works, it creates an opportunity for thematic looping and narrative closure that's pretty fun. What if the ghost patron is ALIVE when you open the campaign? Can you come up with a first adventure in which people convince the PCs that this living person (who will become the ghost patron) is a villain? Then, after a desperate chase to prevent him from doing some dire deed, the PCs kill him? When the PCs slay this soon-to-be-ghost, he is, of course, actually in the process of doing something far from evil, something dangerously heroic but misunderstood, something central to your campaign's themes. The deceased "villain" then rises as a ghost tied not to some mundane piece of gear, but to the PCs themselves. He needs and will try to convince the PCs of their error and to carry on his dying errand in his place. This could take some time, but if the PCs are slow, and just kill the ghost a lot, he can keep coming back and pleading again. Eventually, either through the ghost's efforts or discoveries the PCs make on their own, the PCs find irrefutable evidence of his innocence and their error. When this happens, the PCs will likely find themselves far more deeply obligated to the ghost then they would be if they just pick some random a piece of ordinary gear and find it comes with a complementary ghost attached. Of course, the number of things that could go wrong with this wacky idea are beyond counting and almost certainly outweigh it's virtue. But I thought I'd toss it in your lap and see what happens.
I’ll echo the poster who recommended that you keep the PCs’ starting levels low, certainly lower than necessary for many of the most desireable prestige classes in your setting. There are two reasons for this. First, when you are new to dungeon mastering, there’s a lot to juggle. I’ve seen many smart, experienced players, even proficient rules lawyers, switch from players to DMs only to discover that there’s much more to keep in mind than they thought. The DM is ultimately responsible for setting the evening’s mood, making each one of the players feel entertained, useful, and special, keeping the story on track, handling all the rules, bluffing with conviction and ad-libbing for the unexpected, and numerous other demanding tasks. It’s great, but it can be exhausting, and at times overwhelming. The rules are easier to manage at low level. The higher the level, the more complex everything becomes, particularly combat encounters. Consider giving yourself the comfort of beginning with less complexity and allowing yourself to grow more skillful as a DM as your demands grow with the party’s advancement. Second, there’s a unique thrill to low-level play that diffuses at higher levels. At low level, risks are greater because the players are weak. Mortality is a genuine threat to every encounter. In this high-risk environment, PCs get to take momentous chances, face staggering sacrifices, and often pursue acts of unadulterated desperation. This breathless excitement is wholly different from the tenor of challenges later on. Now, I’ve never met a player who didn’t WANT to start with a stronger character, one who whose enhanced abilities, competence, and durability would improve his chance of survival. The truth, however, is that he’ll probably have a better time if he has to face greater threats to his survival, does so, and survives. Players bond most deeply with their characters when they engage in battles certain they’ll perish and yet, through smart play, luck, and perseverance, survive by the leanest margin. Low-level play is often the best chance for this. Don’t steal this from your players (or yourself) lightly, regardless of what they might tell you otherwise.
CallawayR is absolutely correct that detailed plotting of anything as specific as individual adventures or the future actions of particular characters (especially the PCs) would be premature now. I nonetheless think that developing a compelling story during the campaign-design stage is a must, but by “story” I mean an overarching storyline outlining the major conflict at the heart of the campaign. Take the “Orcus plans to take over the world” campaign. Use this overarching conflict as a filter through which to focus the campaign’s mood, themes, and, eventually, adventures. Both the Shackled City and Age of Worms Adventure Paths used similar conflict-driven storylines to frame things up generally before delving into specifics. Consider jotting down a few lists that will help define the conflicts and events to come: • A list of the principal tools and undead minions Orcus will use, and the individual major goals of those minions. • A rough timeline of the pace at which Orcus’s plans, if unhindered, would proceed. • A list of the principle obstacles Orcus anticipates (which, as CallawayR says, surely do NOT include the PCs or the ghost patron at this point). • A list of some possible future events that might tip Orcus’s hand and awaken opposition. • A list of the principle individuals or organizations likely to fight back and the overall motives of each. (The ghost patron is likely to be one of these. Maybe, because of his past history or access to information inaccessible to mortals, the ghost patron could, if things go well, steer the PCs in the right direction numerous times. But he surely has only the sketchiest grasp of what Orcus plans when the story begins, and likely has no idea a demon prince is behind it all anyway. I’d certainly save revealing the true identity of my big bad until near the end of the campaign.) • A list of places where the conflict will likely come to a head. (Make them exotic and interesting!) • A list of the major magics or magic items that could turn the tide either way. And so on. By organizing things in this form, you leave room for flexibility – and changing your mind altogether – as things develop once the PCs take the reins. Maybe you’ll decide later that the ghost patron has been in league with Orcus all along, that Orcus knows (while the PCs do not) that the PCs have been prophesized to save the world, and the ghost patron’s real task has been to get close enough to learn their plans and ensure that they fail at the critical moment. Maybe you’ll junk the whole Orcus-and-undead theme down the line. Maybe an army of inevitables from Mechanus will clock Orcus and his minions and then, in turn, try to impose a reign of unbearably rigid order on the mortal world. Anything’s possible. But I find an overarching storyline gives everything purpose.
Edward Reed here, now Ashenvale. Thanks, Celestial Healer! And damn, the mechanics of changing my avatar name were so obvious and simple I'm embarrassed I had to ask. Punkassjoe -- Let me echo CallawayR, with whom I agree wholeheartedly. Hordes of the Abyss, for all its interesting content, adds nothing meaningful to Book of Vile Darkness's treatment of Orcus. Likewise, pure Lovecraft elements would be off the mark for an undead theme. I'd nonetheless take a look at all kinds of horror themes while in the early stages of mapping out a ghost-driven campaign because, as CallawayR points out, facing nothing but undead would grow tedius in time. (I'd imagine that had to be one of the biggest challenges faced by the Age of Worms Adventure Path writers at Dungeon.)
Newsletter? Newsletter? Good gracious. I'm just proud I figured out how to post my first messages here last night. Now, can someone tell me how I change my name to something more interesting? Artemis - those rules are fantastic! And so true. Punkassjoe - another great source for ghostly ideas is all of the past October issues of Dragon Magazine. (Seems an appropriate recommendation on a Paizo Messageboard, doesn't it?) October's issues are traditionally brimming over with with spooky ideas and gothic content to satisfy those with Halloween urges. They're not all undead oriented, but they're riddled with good horror hooks. Last October's issue, number 336, had a nifty article describing six templates for haunted locations -- places infused with malevolent, necromantic power independent of any particular creature. The haunted house where the house itself is the true villain, for example, rather than some ghosts who linger within its confines. Another article explores in depth the origin of all of the intelligent undead in the various Monster Manuals. A third presents "curios of corruption", magic items like blasphemous figurines, a sacrificial knife that casts death knell when used in a coup de grace attempt, a staff of nightmares, and a book that eats you. The October 2004 issue, number 324, has an article on H.P. Lovecraft's influences on D&D, an article introducing nightmare monsters from the realm of dreams, and an article outlining how to animate more powerful undead. The October 2003 issue, number 312, has an article on necromancer archetypes and abilities, an article on evil enchanters, and one on a very Lovecraftian demon prince that eats everything.
Listen to Psionicamister too. His advice is particularly sound. Especially true is his axiom that no adventure survives the PCs. It's sad, but absolutely true. If you prepare for them to go left, right, straight, or backwards, they'll find a way to go up. If you give them a clear choice between A or B, they'll choose 4, or blueberry. Flexibility is the key here. Roll with it. Pretend that whatever the PCs do is exactly what you expected them to do. Bluff. Let events roll wherever their and your collective imagination takes you while you secretly look for ways to reintegrate their rediculuous frolics and detours into the storyline they've escaped. With a little practice, you'll become a master at doubling back. The key not to panic. Never panic. At least not outwardly. Smile. Laugh. Roll some dice with no purpose. Call for meaningless spot or listen checks, then dubiously announce, "Seems clear." Create an NPC on the fly who has bad breath and clings to the a PC, professing the benefits of purchasing a dubuious looking bottle of curative. Announce a sudden change in the weather. Improvise. And while doing so, always let the players' good ideas work, and their stupid ones fail embarrassingly. If the PCs actions call for skill checks, and their still low level, make 10 a no-brainer, 15 a legitimate challenge, 20 a serious challenge, and 25 something they should aspire too without solid training or a load of ale in their bellies. And keep looking for that hook to drag them back into the real plotline. Be patient. It will come. It always does.
Valegrim and Celestial Healer’s advice is excellent. Listen to them. My best advice on starting a new campaign is to forget about the rules for a while and think about the story. Put aside the special abilities, feats, skills, and strengths each character class has to offer, and the fabulous magic items you’ll introduce. Those are great sources of initial inspiration, but think now about the overarching storyline that will drive the campaign. Ask yourself (1) what’s the world like, (2) how did it get that way, (3) what will happen if someone – the PCs – don’t step in to change the course of events, and (4) how can they do that? Your story must be your own, so I won’t presume to suggest that you adopt the following ideas; I offer them for illustrative purposes only. QUESTION 1: WHAT'S THE WORLD LIKE? Perhaps it strikes one at first blush as an ordinary, late medieval fantasy setting, but a shadow of necromancy is growing in the dark places of the realms. [Here I might turn to classic horror imagery without disclosing up front to the players that this is a Ghostwalk setting. Other DMs would argue that involving your players in the decision to use such a setting ensures ideal character generation and goodwill from the group, but I’m secretive by nature. So here goes.] Apparitions seem more common than in generations past. Recently, many community cemeteries that have always been revered as places of holy ground show signs of grave robbing. Coffins are found unearthed and bodies missing. Other graves have seemingly collapsed into heretofore unknown dark tunnels or caverns beneath the graveyards. Villagers throughout the countryside are nervous. Rumors circulate in poorer communities outside city walls that vagrants seen at night on the country road and moors are actually ghouls, or worse. The wealthy have quietly hidden away portraits of their ancestors whose images have inexplicably begun to rot or distort into undead visions. You get the idea. Not everyone knows it yet, but darkness is seeping into at the corners of reality, and safety has become a fool’s illusion. QUESTION 2: HOW DID THE WORLD GET THIS WAY? How about this? Several hundred years ago, a young man -- your PCs’ ghostly patron -- discovered that his father, a powerful lord and pillar of society in the land’s greatest city, was secretly worshipping and sacrificing innocents to Orcus. The father feared that his debauchery and untoward deeds committed through his life (and unknown to the world at large) would damn his soul to eternal torment. But then he learned (through ancient, profane scrolls, or some similar nefarious source) that the most wicked human souls are actually elevated to the ranks of powerful demons upon death. The father thereafter committed himself to the most terrible and fiendish deeds, while maintaining his public image of virtuosity, to ensure that he would become one of the tormentors, not the tormented, upon death. He discovered a natural gift for necromancy, and turned to Orcus as his sponsor. Using his family’s vast wealth and political stature, the father turned dozens, hundreds, even thousands of other mortals to dark deeds that would, in turn, condemn their souls. To ensure his postmortem position as one of Orcus’s chief lieutenants in the hereafter, the father, when his power grew sufficient, broke the carefully crafted seals on the mystical doors between the material world and the lands of the undead. This welcomed into this living world the growing shadow that now haunts the land. All of this his son (the PCs’ ghostly patron) discovered. After the son’s initial horror wore off, he responded with unexpected clarity and conviction. He confronted his father in the midst of crucial ceremony in which his father planned to sacrifice dozens of innocents to Orcus. He pleaded with his father to return to reason. The father flew into a rage and attacked the son. The son, to save the would-be victims, stood and fought. The two killed each other. The father’s soul plunged to the Abyss, but Orcus refused to elevate the father to a true demon's stature. Instead, he turned the father into a unique undead minion and cast him back to the material plane with instructions to ensure that undead overrun and dominate the world of the living. Only then will his father earn his place at Orcus’s side as a lord of demons. The father hurtled back to our world, empowered but enraged, blaming his son for his failure to ascend immediately. The son rose as a ghost, and cannot rest until his father’s taint is cleared from the lands. The undead father’s influence is cause of the advent of necromantic power throughout the land. He unlocked the doors to the nether realms and plans to channel all of that power against the good of mankind. The son, a far less powerful entity in the world of the undead, stands alone against him to save mankind. He cannot stand alone for long. He needs help. QUESTION 3: WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THE PC'S DON'T INTERVENE. That’s simple. Unless the son finds a living power to oppose the rising undead force, the undead will take over the world. They will work subtly at first, chipping away at the edges of the mortal races, until the forces of the material world are sufficiently compromised. (This has already begun. Ask the caretaker at the cemetery. He'll tell you tales to turn your hair white.) Once the mortal races are suitably infiltrated and undermined, the father will launch the true war, the war that none will survive. Unless a sufficiently powerful living force is raised to both understand and face the horror, this world, in a few years time, will become a horrific realm of populated by nothing undead. Then Orcus will claim it as his own, drag it down into the Abyss forever, and the father will have his reward. The son understands this, and has chosen the PCs as his best hope to turn the tide. It’s all up to them. QUESTION 4: HOW CAN THE PCS TURN THE TIDE? One adventure at a time. The first three or four adventures should teach the PCs that the son, although a ghost, is someone to trust, not some undead menace. Thereafter he can point them to the allies, to magic items, to knowledge, and ultimately to the armies they must lead to face his father’s crusade against the living. All must be obtained through heroic actions, daring deeds, and personal sacrifices. Whatever the PCs initial alignment, the must ultimately accept that they alone are the light in the darkness, and on their decisions rests the fate of the world. * * * Okay, that’s an example of how one might think in sketching out a campaign. The details will follow. Nifty magic items and clever character classes are trivial compared to the overarching plotline. Now, toss mine aside as junk and craft your own. Best wishes!
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