Upon reaching the bottom of the stair, the company find themselves in what appears to be an average root cellar. Hung about are various herbs, set to dry. Salted meats, sausages, and smoked fish are arranged on racks in careful rows. Bags of potatoes, carrots and leeks are neatly stacked against the cool stone walls. They start to think that Alton has lost all sense.
Alton moves through the group, gathered in the entrance to the cellar. He moves to a rack containing hundreds of wine bottles and holds his hand out as if counting. He suddenly reaches out and grabs at one bottle, pulling it part way from the rack. A mechanical clank as of a large latch can be heard and the rack swings inward. Beyond is revealed a vault roughly fifteen feet wide and some forty feet long. The walls are lined with shelves containing all manner of chests, boxes and displays. It appears to be a treasure trove.
As the company move toward this newly discovered room, Beric grabs some smoked fish, and Grimnir a sausage. Beric munches on the fish, while Grimnir stows the sausage.
“What,” he says as some of the others look at him quizzically. “Who knows how long it will be until we can find provisions again.”
Aton waves them on, into the vault. “There will be plenty of stock on the other end of the tunnel. Father had arranged for full provisions to be laid for you so you could start your mission as soon as possible.”
Once everyone is in the vault, Alton activates another lever and the wine rack swings closed, sealing them in the long room.
“I don’t mean to quibble, but I don’t see any tunnel,” Errol quips.
“Have patience,” Alton replies. He moves through the vault to a section of wall about ten feet from the far end. It consists of a large display case, reaching from floor to ceiling, containing what are apparently many tokens of past adventurers. A long serpentine tail, a golden cup, a shadowbox containing mounted claws of various creatures all look to be hung in there with care. Alton slides his fingers under the edges of the frame of the case and a clicking sound preceded the case sliding back and into a notch in the wall. Beyond is revealed a tunnel of worked stone, running off at an angle into the darkness.
Lucan is about to step over the threshold when Alton stops him with an extended arm.
“You don’t want to go in there yet,” warns Alton. He then goes back across the vault room and opens a small box, removing a key. He comes back to the tunnel entrance and slips the key in a well hidden slot in a joint in the worked stone of the arch leading into the tunnel and turns it. Gears can be heard to be turning in the wall.
“Now it is safe,” he says, walking across the threshold into the tunnel.
“What was that all about,” asks Jeyne.
“The key deactivates the pressure plate in the floor,” Alton replies. “Had we stepped on it while active, a ten by ten foot chunk of the ceiling would have dropped on us. That would have severely hurt our chances of escape.”
Once through the doorway revealed by the disappearing trophy case, Alton motions that all should move down the tunnel a short distance. He then presses a stone in the wall, pushing hard. It moves into the wall a bit and then springs back. Gears can be heard to be turning again and the trophy case moves back into place.
“We should make haste,” he says. “We have well over a mile to go until we reach the other end.”
The company heads down the tunnel, moving in the glow of Merilwen’s staff. As the walk, many of the company note the grooves worn in the stone of the floor as of the passage of decades of wheeled traffic. Eventually the come to a larger chamber where some crates and boxes are stacked against the walls. They move on through an arch at the opposite end of the chamber and continue on for several hundred more feet.
Eventually the come to a stone wall, what appears to be a dead end. Alton goes to the left side of the tunnel and pushes hard on the wall. What appeared to be a dead end swings out on a balanced hinge, revealing what appears to be a stable carved out of the rock. Several of the stalls contain horses and a couple ponies, which look to the swinging chunk of wall and the newcomers without distress.
Alton leads them across the stable to the doors. The company can feel the bite of the midwinter night air as the doors are slid aside. They see that they are down by the river, at the mill owned by the Dunwall’s. The rushing of ice cold water can be heard foaming through the cataracts the power the mill. There is a modest cottage next to the mill and a light can be seen coming from curtained windows.
As they walk out into the yard of the mill, they can see the flickering glow of what must be the burning estate over the hill in the distance. Alton and Jeyne stop at the sight and share a dark look. Hey all move to the cottage and Alton calls at the door.
“Hobb, open up… All has gone wrong, we must get away with all due haste.”
-----
The door to the cottage swings open, and what looks to be a child stands silhouetted in the frame, backlit by the lamps and fire in the hearth. He motions for the company to come in, and looks around the yard before moving back into the cottage.
Once all are inside the cramped quarters, the company can see that the child is actually a Halfling, a rare sight this far away from their holds in the lands between Mercia and the Sunne League far to the southwest. There are two other men in the cottage also, both having the look of simple laborers.
“The packs your father ordered are in the back room,” the Halfling says, motioning to a doorway at the back of the cottage’s main room. He then makes a slight bow to the company and introduces himself. “Well met, I am Hobb Longshadow a steward of Baron Dunwall. I usually take care of special requests for the Baron, much like this one.”
“Now Alton, what is this talk about everything going wrong, you are all here sooner than I expected but that is not cause for alarm.”
“You do not understand, all is lost at the estate. The Queen has sent some vile necromancer who raised our dead ancestors and sent them against us. They have put the whole of the grounds to the torch. Father stayed to give some resistance in the hopes that we might get away…” Alton speech drifts off as the gravity of the last hours events begin to sink in.
Hobb can be seen to become shaken, too. He reaches for a chair to steady himself. “This is grave news. We knew the queen was consolidating her rule, but would have never guessed she would openly move against our houses. Well then, it is truly prescient that we had planned for the flight of our new companions through the secret ways.”
Mastering himself, Hobb begins to give orders to the laborers. He tells them to get a couple of ponies loaded with the packs. The laborers disappear into the back room and come back out loaded down with gear. They squeeze past the companions and out the door of the cottage, headed for the stables.
Once the laborers are gone, Alton introduces the companions to Hobb. Hobb is especially glad to meet Jeyne, as she has Dunwall blood flowing through her veins. He also seems quite pleased to meet Merilwen, expressing great admiration for her grandfather and mother. He seems to be sizing up the others as though he knows of them and is trying to make his knowledge comport with the men present. Everyone in the company gets the impression that he may have had a hand in their selection for this enterprise.
Then the discussion turns to the task at hand, namely the investigation into the amulet. Brother Weyland produces the item from his belt pouch and lays it on the table. Unease settles over the room as the object is exposed to their sight.
“I had mentioned to the Baron that the Priory of Movan contains vaults that hold some manuscripts about The Enemy, we might learn something about this vile talisman by studying them,” offers Weyland.
“Aye, that would seem to be the place to start,” agrees Grimnir.
“That is two days travel to the north of here,” says Beric. “Surely the queen’s forces would catch up to us before we could get there.”
“That assumes they are going to be looking for us,” Lucan says. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but the necromancer may not have known of the tunnel. If he had, he surely would have sent a contingent here to bottle us in. It will take some time for the flames to die down and for them to search the rubble. It could be a day or more before they figure out that anyone escaped the flames.”
“Additionally, the necromancer may not know that your father had engaged us in any kind of mission, or about the amulet,” Jeyne adds. “We may have a small window to get away without them suspecting.”
“I agree,” Merilwen says. “For this purge, for it is not just here that the queen has struck, was foreseen by my grandfather. Many of the families with the strongest ties to the old king will be similarly decimated. That is part of the reason I was sent, to forewarn the Baron and to insure that we escaped the flames.”
This revelation brings the conversation to a halt, and the room becomes as silent and somber as a funeral.
“You knew this was coming?” asks Errol, breaking the silence. “Why did you not warn us, or the Baron?”
“I did warn the Baron, he was quite aware of the danger at his doorstep. But through lengthy counsel with my grandfather, this course was chosen. Our eventual victory could only be preserved by making the queen believe she has been successful, and by using agents to further the Baron’s designs. Great and terrible things have been set in motion, and we have our small part to play in making sure that the forces of good prevail.”
“Well, you could have let the rest of us in on this before the necromancer appeared, this is not what I had signed on for,” Errol retorts.
“This is exactly what you signed on for, Errol. You have longed to escape the dull existence of the college and your tomes, to find the missing pieces to the puzzle of what happened after the sealing. How could all the knowledge of those first centuries been lost. You knew that kind of secret was not going to be found in some comfortable parlor, spelled out for you by some courtly sage. Those kinds of secrets are found in dank ruins, protected by dangerous traps and vile curses, and you cannot wait to find them. This is exactly where you long to be.”
This strikes close to the truth, and Errol is cowed into silence.
It is then that one of the laborers comes back through the door of the cottage, startling some of the company at his sudden appearance. He goes to the back room and comes back out with more supplies and heads back for the stable, closing the door behind him.
The urgency of the laborers movements serves to focus the conversation back on their current plight.
“So, we need to head for the Priory. Hoping that the Baron’s sacrifice has bought us time to get away,” says Lucan.
“Yes, the Priory seems a fine place to start. But we are not all following that road,” replies Alton. “Hobb and I are going to meet our contacts in the Sunne League, to share the news of what has transpired here tonight and to make sure my father’s plans continue unabated.”
“Hobb, you and I you mean,” says Jeyne. “Father said I should go with you, which is what he whispered to me back in the manor at our parting. He wishes for me to travel with you, he seems to think I will be of use working with our allies.”
“If that was Father’s wish,” Alton replies coolly, stressing the word father. “Then I guess you are traveling with us.”
“Yes, I can see the wisdom in this choice,” adds Hobb, hoping to break the tension. “She will undoubtedly be of use, as she has seen much of the west and will help us avoid some of the pitfalls of traveling abroad. I will tell the laborer’s we will be one more in our party.”
With that, Hobb bounds out the door for the stables.
“The rest of you, then, should make for the Priory. Provisions and traveling gear can be found outside in the stable. You will also be given a couple ponies to aid in carrying your supplies. To make things clear, as father did not get to finish, you are to find out what you can about this amulet. He thinks it is a key of sorts; remember ‘Turn the Key that buried the Scrolls’. You are to find out what that phrase means, and if you can procure the ‘scrolls’ mentioned by the mad cultist. We should not be back in country for some time, but we will have an agent in the frontier town of Fairhill. I do not know the agent’s identity, but they will know you. You are to report to the agent once your mission is complete, or alternately you can flee to that town should you find yourselves in danger. Whatever you do, do not let the amulet fall into the hands of these cultists. The consequences of that would be dire indeed.”
So it was that six of the companion’s; Beric, Errol, Grimnir, Lucan, Weyland and Merilwen struck north for the Priory of Movan. Draped in heavy woolen cloaks and furs and with two ponies in tow, somewhat laden with trade goods. They looked to an untrained eye like a desperate merchant striking out into the winter on a small trade mission.
The other members of the company; Alton, Jeyne and Hobb headed to the south along the road to Northbridge. Alton and Jeyne were stowed in a wagon, under a pile of furs. Hobb and one of the laborers rode on the board of the wagon and the other laborer rode on a pony behind them.
As the figures left the mill, heading in opposite directions, a light snow began to fall and the wind began to pick up. Another fortunate coincidence, as soon the trails they left in the snow was erased leaving no clues for their eventual pursuers.
-----
The last night of the Yuletide in the year 1309 became known as The Burning Yule in Mercia. Several houses of prominent families burned in what the crown at the time described as ‘the immolation of their treacherous lines in the fires of their abyssal masters’. The lines of the Cromin’s, the Haight’s and the Lormund’s were ended that night in the flames of their estates. Other families were captured, some of them were killed, some imprisoned, and some sentenced to fates far worse.
News was spread about those targeted throughout the cities and towns of the realm. The families were accused of being in league with The Enemy and they were in part responsible for the old king’s death the previous summer. Having such news come from the queen’s own heralds had a strong effect on the commoner’s at the time. All assumed the news was true, as they had no cause to doubt the word of the queen. This was a master stroke of propaganda on the queen’s part, and did much to shade the opinions of the populace for some time thereafter. Allowing her reign to take root and providing the needed shadow of a menace at play in their midst to justify the draconian measures her rule would take in the following years.
“I beg pardon, my lord, but the estate is under attack,” the steward states, trying to compose himself. “They have a wizard with them using fire magic, he blasted the gate. Captain Efran said they bear the queens standard on their tabards but did not make any attempt to parlay.”
The door to the feasthall opens again and a number of servants come rushing in bearing the arms and armor of the assembled company, the Barons grooms among them carrying his equipment. They rush about helping the company don armor and ready weapons.
The Steward continues, “In addition to the ruin of the gate, they have rushed for the chapel and put fire to the stables. They are using firepots, my lord. I fear the stables are a total loss. The guards are holding the mansion proper, they are setting a barricade around the front doors. The queen’s forces have not advanced otherwise, they are holding the gate, and we have been unable to identify the wizard.”
Other servants, kitchen staff and groundsmen, come into the hall from the kitchens. Fear is clearly written on their faces as they look to the Baron for direction. The Baron’s eldest son, Alton, bursts in from the direction of the Baron’s living quarters. He is armored and armed in masterwork gear befitting one of his station.
“Father, what are they doing. We sent them their hostage, what do they hope to gain from striking us openly,” Alton asks?
“I fear this was a part of their calculation all along,” replies the Baron. “They took the hostage to bring us to heel, now they must have assumed we would all retreat to our estate where they could deal with us all at once.”
Turning to the servants, he continues, “You all have my sincere apologizes, my faithful servants. It would appear the queen no longer sees my family fit to rule in her name. I would not have all of you throw your lives away. I would have those of you who wish it to leave under a white flag so that you must not share my families’ fate.”
Orders are given for a sheet to be brought from the bedrooms, and it is affixed to a pole. Baron Dunwall takes up the standard and moves out of the hall to the front doors. They are barricaded with overturned trestle tables and other furniture. He heads up the stairs to the second floor apartments and waves the flag outside one of the windows above the doors.
“Parlay! Parlay!” he shouts into the night.
There is no response for some time, and he shouts out again, “Parlay!”
Soon a figure can be seen to come out from the chapel, looking agitated. In a voice that sounds like death the figure hisses, “I will listen to your parlay. Am I speaking to Baron Aldin Dunwall?”
“I am Baron Dunwall, Yes,” he begins. “I demand to know why forces of the queen would invade my home. You have done great injury to my property already, setting fire to my stables and blasting my gate.”
“The queen has branded your family as heretical, owing to rumors at the court and verified by the symbols of The Enemy found all about your desecrated chapel. Your lands are forfeit and you are to be brought before the Queen to answer for your crimes,” the wizard retorts.
“These claims are outrageous,” the Baron stammers. “Our chapel has always been dedicated to The Trinity, and my family has served in the grace of their blessings for centuries.”
“The evidence present would suggest otherwise,” breathes the wizard.
The Baron is silent for a short time, as the gravity of the situation begins to settle on him.
The company listens to the exchange from the barricaded entry hall. They are all armored and arrayed for a fight should it come to that. They can hear muffled voices from upstairs as the Baron and his son presumably are discussing the situation and their options.
“I will go with you quietly if I must, but I would have my servants go free. They are blameless in this and I would have them removed from the situation unharmed,” the Baron shouts out to the wizard.
“This is agreeable, send them out to the front gate and we will see they are dealt with fairly. You and your kin are my real concern, not some potscrubbers and stableboys.”
Alton Dunwall comes bounding down the stairs, a look of resignation on his features. He gathers the servants and thanks them for their years of loyal service, apologizing for putting them in this situation. He makes clear that the family is not in league with The Enemy and that it some ruse of the queens.
This is met with a general murmur of ascent from the servants.
Asking the company to stay put, he leads them back to the kitchens and the barricade is removed from that door. The servants that wish to leave are led out by one of the senior cooks. The steward, several grooms, and a smattering of other servants remain, loyalty winning the battle against preservation that has rolled through all of their minds.
Alton returns to the entry barricade and gathers the companions.
“All is not lost, we have secret ways out of our home. Ways that were built by some of our ancestors that used to be utilized for smuggling. They were instrumental in my family’s fortunes in the early days. They have been so infrequently used of late that we are sure that the queen’s forces do not know about them.”
A commotion can be heard outside as the servants approach the queen’s forces, waving a white rag.
“Yes, yes, come along!” hisses the wizard condescendingly. “Prepare to be searched, we must insure that you are unarmed and that no trickery is afoot.”
The queen’s forces wordlessly line up the servants in the sickly light of the burning gate and stables. Their breath rising like mist off the lake as they kneel in the snow, hands above their heads.
This is when Beric notices it. No breath comes from under the helms of the soldiers. “Something is wrong,” he exclaims. “The soldiers, you cannot see their breath!”
That is when the world explodes into chaos.
A half dozen of the soldiers run through some of the kneeling servants with their spears. As the rest begin to run for their lives, screaming in fear, a number of figures spill forth from the chapel. It is hard to make out features, be they seem desiccate and dressed in what had once been fine robes.
These creatures tear into the flank of the servants that have fled for the gate. Savaging them with boney hands as they track them down in the snow.
From the ranks facing the house come hurling firepots, which smash against the exterior and burst into flame.
“Did you really think we would let anyone leave,” the wizard shrieks manically. “I think our parlay is at an end!”
The wails of the unarmed servants can be heard from the courtyard as they are tracked down by the soldiers. They are hewn down to a man, their blood staining the pure white snow.
The companions and remaining servants can only watch as this plays out in the dancing light of the burning buildings.
Smoke is beginning to fill the upper floors as the walls of the centuries old manor begin to burn.
The Baron comes down the stairs, his eyes filled with tears. His face showing they are for his beloved servants not from the smoke of the house fire.
“You must go my friends,” he says. “Take the secret ways. I had planned on the company leaving by that route already to avoid any prying eyes that might be watching our home. It would seem that my caution was prescient. Alton, you must lead them out and then make for our friends in the Sunne League. They will help us restore our names and our lands, I have no doubt of that.”
Alton looks confused, “Why do we not all leave by the secret ways? Father, what are you planning to do?”
“If we do not put up some defense, the wizard will think there is something amiss. We will buy you time with our lives, my son. You must carry on and avenge our deaths. Spread the word of what the queen is capable of, and rally our allies.”
“Do not throw your life away, Father, please.”
“We must make this stand,” he replies. “Now go, before it is too late.”
Alton embraces his father one last time.
Jeyne has been watching this scene in shock. She had not been under her father’s roof for more than a few days, and now she was going to lose him forever. She makes to go to her father but comes up short, remembering her place as the bastard daughter. Her father comes to her as Alton gathers the rest of the companions. He gives her an embrace, whispering something into her ear that causes the tears to flow from her eyes. They take one final look at each other and she follows the companions out of the entry hall.
As they leave the entry, the Baron starts to put out windows and the remaining servants begin to fire crossbows out at the advancing forces. They make their way across the feasthall, noting the smoke gathering high amongst the rafters. As they enter the kitchen the smell of death assaults them and several figures can be seen silhouetted against the open doorway, the barricade sundered.
-----
The company is confronted with four of the soldiers wielding spears, who from this distance can be seen to have rotten flesh below their armor, and three skeletons adorned in what looks like funerary attire. They have broken through the loosened barricade at the exterior kitchen door in the opposite corner of the large room from where the companions entered and are shambling over the debris. A large oak work table stands between them and the undead monstrosities.
Jeyne and Lucan are the first to react. Lucan moves to the far side of the room and around the work table, using it to protect his flank. His longsword and shield at the ready. Jeyne follows and takes up a position behind the table, her short swords in hand.
Some of the undead soldiers have cleared the debris field and advance up toward the table, raising their spears and preparing to strike. Through their helms can be seen dead, lifeless eyes and mottled skin.
Alton, who had led the group into the room, pulls up short. He recognizes the skeletons garb, as time ravaged as it is, as the funerary robes of his family. The monstrous wizard must have animated his ancestors from the mausoleum under their chapel to bolster his ranks. The shock is too much for him and he falls back against the wall next to the door, unable to act.
Grimnir and Beric have no such qualms about engaging the enemy. Beric fills the space at the opposite end of the table from Lucan, and Grimnir jumps up onto the table next to Beric. They each strike at the soldiers closest to them. Grimnir's Hammer strikes a glancing blow to the top of one’s head, denting the helm and skull underneath. Beric’s greataxe does far more damage, digging deeply through the shoulder and torso of another soldier, and it crumples to the floor releasing an oily green fluid and foul odor.
Merilwen holds her ground in the feasthall and begins casts a spell that causes a nimbus of golden light to settle around her and appear to be absorbed by her skin, which thereafter has a slight sheen to it.
Brother Weyland brandishes the symbol of his order, calling on the power of Bestla, the Hearthguard, to cleanse the undead taint from this home. A pulse of blue energy issues forth in a radius around the priest, washing over all in the room. The companions feel the reassuring warmth of the energy pass through them. It has an altogether different effect on the undead, they stagger as it passes through them as though the energy has a physical presence. It does not destroy them however, and they continue to advance.
Errol is the last to enter the room, short bow in hand and arrow nocked. He steps in front of Alton and fires at one of the soldiers who provides a clear shot over the table. The arrow flies true and strikes through one of the eyeholes of the helmet, snapping the zombies head back but it does not fall.
The skeletal ancestors of the Dunwall line have cleared the debris at the door. One advances on Lucan, scratching at his shield with bony fingers. One steps over the body of the fallen zombie and claws at Beric who deftly avoids the blow. The third skeleton clambers up onto the table and attacks Grimnir, but the act of climbing up has unbalanced the skeleton and it misses. The undead forces are pressing the companions at this point, with two zombies and three skeletons having advanced up to the table or its ends.
Jeyne slices at the skeleton on the table with her short swords, one of the attacks finding the back of what was once a human knee but it fails to affect the creature. Lucan has more luck, his longsword slicing a large piece out of the side of the dead soldier facing him.
The soldier retaliates with a spear thrust that slips under Lucan’s shield, piercing his thigh. Lucan gives a grunt of pain as the tip is drawn back out of the fresh wound. The other zombie, threatening Grimnir, is not as fortunate as his thrust is turned aside by the dwarf’s shield. The last zombie lumbers up to the ranks of the others at the far side of the table.
Weyland continues chanting a prayer to the hearthguard and another wave of blue energy pulses out from his holy symbol. Again the companions feel the warmth of the energy, and again the undead recoil slightly as if hit by a breaking wave on some distant shore. The enemy’s bodies are riven and rotting flesh falls from them, but they do not fall.
Beric and Grimnir both lash out with ferocious blows. The dwarf takes a mighty swing that not only shatters the body of the skeleton on the table, but follows through to remove the head from the shoulders of the zombie soldier on the floor in front of him. The ranger similarly shatters the skeleton in front of him with a great overhand chop of his axe.
Merilwen reaches through the doorway and pulls Alton back into the feasthall with her. She speaks calming words to him, which while they do not seem to have any magic behind them do much to bring him out of his shock.
Errol moves across the room and takes up a firing position behind the table, letting loose another arrow that glances off the brow of one of the skeletons to no effect.
The remaining skeleton overreaches for Lucan, unbalancing itself and exposing its neck. Lucan wastes no time in driving his sword down through the exposed bone, severing the head from the shoulders and ending the unlife of the creature. Jeyne takes advantage of the lack of a threat to climb over the table and move toward the exterior door, looking for any reinforcements that may be incoming.
The Last dead soldier makes a lumbering thrust with its spear, which Beric sidesteps. Grimnir attempts to swing at the zombie but misses as he steps into a bowl of salt on the tabletop. Beric finishes it however, as he spins around and cleaves the zombies torso in two, the follow through striking the wall of the kitchen.
Errol strides over the table behind Jeyne, and moves to the exterior door arrow at the ready. No other targets present themselves in the moonlight of the servant’s yard. The only sounds that can be heard are the crackling of the fires that have been set outside.
“The yard is clear, I don’t think anyone will see us go,” Errol informs the others.
“We are not going that way, Follow me,” Alton responds as he stumbles back into the kitchen, steadied by Merilwen.
Beric and Grimnir slide the table out of the way so they can pass without stepping over the undead, and avoiding the green oily fluid that escaped the zombies at their death. Alton then leads them to a door opposite the exterior door. He opens it to reveal a stone staircase leading down into the dark.
Weyland moves to the aid of Lucan, touching the wound and grasping his holy symbol he invokes a prayer to Sirona the Healer. Weyland's hand glows with a blue light which seems to melt into Lucan’s thigh, knitting the wound and restoring vigor to the raven haired warrior.
Lucan thanks him for the miracle.
“The secret ways leave the estate from beneath,” he motions for everyone to head down. We could use a light if anybody has one at hand.
Merilwen obliges, with a wave of her hand the tip of her staff begins to glow with a golden light.
The companions leave the carnage of the kitchen behind and descend into the cool basement of the burning manor.
In the beginning, Anu the Earthmother fled from the mad gods of the Far Realms. She bore a world where she could find refuge. She endeavored to protect her creation from the chaos by creating several spheres around the world to protect it and keep it separate from the swirling madness of the Far Realms. Exhausted from the enormity of her efforts, she fell into a deep slumber and began to dream. From her dreams came forth the great spirits of men and beasts. Her dream became surreal and she brought forth the fey and their kindred. Her dream became dark and creatures of flame and shadow were born.
From the shadows came one who would challenge the supremacy of Anu, and he made great mischief while the goddess slept. War raged across the world as the powers vied for dominion over Anu’s creation. Many of the spirits of men and beasts were seduced by The Enemy and fell to darkness.
After an age, Anu awoke to find her creation torn asunder. With a thought, she separated the spheres. She created the middle realms between the earthly realm of Gearda, the domain of men and Celestia, her heavenly abode. The fey where banished to Faerie, the dead given a place to rest and earn their celestial reward in the Oatherwold, and the four elements were given demi-planes on which to coalesce. The followers of The Enemy were of sufficient power to forge their own realms, the icy mountain of Niflhel and the fiery pits of Muspell.
Men soon found that they could still call the spirits from the middle realms to further their aims. The fey found ways back to Gearda and founded many twilit realms, and agents of Niflhel and Muspell brought terror and pain to the world of men.
Seeing the chaos and evil that her creations had wrought, Anu wept. Her tears were of silvery mithril, which gathered at the heart of the world. It was there that the dwarves found them, which led to Gearda’s salvation. Using the tears, they forged nine great seals that have barred the spirits from traveling to the realms of mortals. The gates were hidden and jealouly protected, and over time even their dwarven creators lost the knowledge of their locations.
The seals had two unintended effects that the dwarves could not foresee. The first being the loss of the connection to the middle realms would limit the potential of mortals. Everything and everyone to come after is but a dim reflection of the greatness of the previous ages. The other being that spirits in the mortal realm at the time of the Sealing would not be able to cross the barrier back to the middle realms, even in death. The only way that is open is to Oetherwold, and that path can only lead to the Celestial Realms. Though these spirits could be defeated and their physical forms destroyed, they stay in the mortal realm and coalesce once more in time and can never be truly destroyed or banished.
More than a thousand years has passed since the Sealing of the worlds, and some of the dark powers that were brought to heel in the aftermath have begun to rise again. Some are searching for the Seals, in the hopes of shattering them and returning to their homes. Others wish to bring the world that has bound them under their sway in punishment for their undoing.
-----
Here now is the epic tale of a few who stood against the shadow, as can be reckoned from the manuscripts in Ealdwitain’s libraries. I have done my best to compile the diverse records of these trying times in order to give an accurate telling of the tale. Many of the texts had to be translated from such disparate tongues as Harn, Jutan, Ahkadian, and Elvish. I was not permitted access to the runeward of the Dwarves of The Crown, so any contribution or corroboration those tracts could provide is missing from this volume. Some of the conversations and actions are taken from the personal journals of the esteemed Errol Tilmaran, of which only a few still exist. Some of the tale is a sub-creation of my humble hand, using all knowledge of those present to reflect the likely chain of events. I will leave it to the reader to decipher which is which.
Humbly submitted, 17th Erntemond 1579 MC.
Sir Lars Sigferend
Knight of Letters, Ealdwitains College
Northbridge, Mercia
Our tale begins….
Chapter 1
3rd Yuletide 1309 MC
The estate of Baron Aldin Dunwall lays in the rolling hills a day’s ride north of the Ducal seat in the great city of Northbridge. The Dunwall line has held these lands near the frontier, overlooking the great Lake Dwemerand for over a hundred years. A roaring fire is set in the hearth, the last of this year’s Yule log. The Baron stares into the flames, turning something metallic over in his hands as the chamber doors open.
Seven figures are led into his feasthall, chosen for differing reasons but all here for the same purpose.
First to enter is Jeyne Woods, the baron’s illegitimate daughter. She was born to an innkeeprer’s daughter in the village of Harth’s Cross, many days to the south of Northbridge. She is obviously of the baron’s line by her appearance sharing the same golden red hair and deep blue eyes. Her mother still sees the baron on occasion, and he has made sure that she did not want for the basics. In addition to his appearance, she shares the baron’s reckless nature. She left home at an early age, preferring to survive by her wits than to grow soft toiling at the inn. She took the longest to track down of all the company, the baron’s agents finally caught up with her in a gambling hall in the Waullen Isles.
On her heals is the dwarf warrior, Grimnir Bittersteel, arrayed in chain mail, a heavy hammer hanging at his belt. He comes highly recommended by friends of the Barons who dwell in The Crown, the dwarven homeland which lies not but four days north of the Dunwall estate. He is a craftsman of some potential, and said to be fierce in combat. He was contracted through the Society of Arms in Northbridge, shrewdly negotiating a higher rate for his service than is customary for one of his few years experience.
The other warrior contracted through the Society follows. He is Lucan van Dorne, a mercenary who has traveled much of the continent in service to several lords. He is from the Sunne city of Whitesails on the southern coast and trained under the mercenary captain Tharan in the Company of the Silver Wolf. He has only recently come to the north and many have speculated why he would leave such a prestigious company. Once word of his arrival reached the Baron’s ears he made sure to secure his services for this venture.
As the rest file into the room, Baron Dunwall continues to stare into the fire. Each of the company are offered seats around a great trestle table made of oak, pitted with years of use.
A man takes a seat near the head of the table, looking about in awe of his surroundings. In a former life he was a farmer, until he lost his family to illness. He has also been a drunkard, drowning the sorrow of his loss in wine and ale. He is now a cleric of The Trinity, the three daughters of Anu; Bestla the hearthguard, Damara of the sheaf, and Sirona of the healing waters. Brother Weyland has seen much in his thirty-four years, but he has never seen the feasthall of a duke of the realm.
Next to the priest sits the northerner, Beric Sunderholm. One of Baron Dunwall’s agents found him being prepared for a crow cage in the Sweonland hold of Malmstad. He heard the story of his sad life and bought his freedom with a weregild to the family of the fisherman he had killed in a bar fight the previous fortnight. He can be seen to finger the braid of golden hair tied around his neck, all that is left of his betrothed, killed by goblins in the days leading up to their wedding. The woodsman has lived in a rage ever since, stalking the north hunting and killing goblins in great numbers. His skills will be put to better use in short order.
Across the table sits the treasure hunter and scholar, Errol Tilmaran. He is of half-elven stock, orphaned at an early age and sent to work at Ealdwitain’s College. He spent more times in the stacks than at his duties and soon the headmaster enrolled in in bardic studies rather than have him continue to disrupt the workings of the college through his inattentiveness. He has been contracted to Baron Dunwall as a means to repay the cost of his training. He sits in dread, believing he is here to teach some young whelp his letters.
And the last to enter is the elven witch, Merilwen. She is the only one in the room who came to Baron Dunwall unbidden. Merilwen is the granddaughter of the greatest diviner of the age, the elf lord Telemin. He sent her for a purpose that only they share, but through consultations with the Baron it has been agreed that her presence in the company is indeed required. She moves across the room with the grace of her kind, seating herself next to Errol. She scans the room as one who is accustomed to far greater halls than this.
As all are seated, the steward and page leave the room, and the Duke stirs.
“A shadow grows in our lands,” He begins as he turns to face those assembled. “It has taken root in the north, and its vines and shoots will spread to every corner of the realm if we do not endeavor to stop it.”
“There are rumors and whispers that have some to my ears, of fell things moving in ancient holds in the Sunderlands. Goblins and worse have been encountered on the verges of the Westingdeep and the far shores of Lake Dwemerand. Just a fortnight hence, an ogre was trapped and killed by my men not a day’s ride from here. And giants have been spotted on the road to Elsir Vale by merchants coming up from the Sunne League.”
Beric noticeable stiffens at the mention of goblins, and he sets down his tankard and reaches for the braid around his neck.
“Many of you are also aware that the Queen in Kingsport has named herself regent until the young king is of age to ascend the Mercian throne,” the Baron continues. “She has done her best to quite the rumors about the circumstances of the kings sudden illness and death. Yet even now, she moves to consolidate her rule. She has called for my middle son, Aidan, to come to court. And I have learned that she has called sons and daughters of all the families that were most loyal or gained their lands from the King. She is setting up a court of hostages, insuring that none move against her as she establishes her dominion over our fair land.”
Baron Dunwall stops, looks down at the circular disk of silver he has been holding since they entered. With a snap of his wrist he flings it into the center of the table.
Brother Weyland gasps audibly as the disk comes to a stop, for he recognizes the symbol etched into the metal by a skilled hand. It is the sign of The Enemy, the nameless horror from the beginning of the world who strove for dominance against the Earthmother and who disappeared at the Sealing of the Spheres.
“But this is the most fearsome thing of all,” breathes the Baron. “The agents of The Enemy are abroad. This medallion was taken from the body of a half-goblin cultist who had been preying on the poor in the sewers of Northbridge. He was mad and gibbering when finally caught, mumbling on about the scrolls and the key. All he said over and over again was ‘Turn the Key that buried the Scrolls’. He finally went completely mad and beat his own head in against the bars of his cell.”
Silence settles over the room as the Baron lets this last revelation sink in with his guests.
Leaning heavily on the end of the table, he starts in again. “That is why I have assembled this company. We need agents working for our interests who are not directly involved in the current power structure. We have set our own designs in motion over these last several months, to counter these threats.”
“Your first mission will be to track down information about the medallion, and what the significance of the mad utterings of the cultist mean. ‘Turn the Key that buried the Scrolls’ must have some meaning that the cultist had not yet figured out. You are also tasked with tracking down these Scrolls and neutralizing them so they cannot be used by The Enemy.”
“The Priory of Movan might be the place to start, my lord.” Weyland interjects. “It is not known by many, but they have many manuscripts regarding The Enemy locked away deep within the vaults. That is one of the reasons the Priory was established, to safely house such dangerous tracts. I spent the early years of my clerical career there and know the Curate personally.”
“Fascinating, I had heard that all the writings regarding The Enemy had been destroyed in the years following the Sealing,” adds Errol. “This is quite the revelation.”
“Yes, yes, very good,” says the Baron. “This is why you are all right for this task. Your diverse skills and set of contacts will prove invaluable in accomplishing our goals.”
“I was not built for cracking books,” says Grimnir. “Cracking skulls is more to my skill set, if ya take my meaning.”
“There will be plenty of chances for that as well, master dwarf,” rejoins the Baron. “I would imagine that the burial place of these scrolls may be well hidden and guarded by some monstrosity.”
“And surly the resting place is full of traps, and treasure,” says Jeyne. “When do we get started.”
“It would seem you already have. I had thought it would have taken you some time to find a place to start your search. The revelation about the Priory of Movan has put you well ahead of our timeline.”
“I note you keep saying ‘we’ and ‘our’,” says Lucan with an inquisitive look on his face. “Who are these others of which you speak?”
“Ah, I was going to get to that,” replies the Baron. “I am but a cog in the wheels of a greater machine. There are many interests that are involved in this endeavor, and each of us only knows a part of the whole. This is done to protect the greater aims from being revealed by the capture of any one agent.”
“I can tell you, that we have acquired the rights to large tracts of land on the Sunderland side of Lake Dwemerand. I can also tell you that we have smiths in the Sunne League working day and night on arms and armor. I will leave you to fill in the rest. We are entering tumultuous times, and we plan to come out of them victorious.”
“What the Baron says is true, we have seen it,” says Merilwen. “It has been revealed in the Mirrors of Kelvanith. War is coming, and a shadow will rise, and the world will quail at its wrath before it is done. I wish it were not so, but our deeds will lead us into peril and we will all suffer torment before we rest.”
“Well, that fills me with confidence,” says Lucan. “At least now we know what we are getting ourselves ...”
BOOM, CRACK!!!
Lucan is interrupted by a sudden booming and the sound of splintering wood coming from the direction of the manors courtyard. The steward comes bursting into the room, panic clearly written across his features.
Upon further consideration, and looking at others posts I am going to submit a rogue.
Fluff
Rowan, Human (Oerid) Rogue, Bastard son of a wealthy merchant family in Gradsul. Mother was a barmaid in the docks district and he grew up underfoot in a tavern. Was taken in at an early age by the thieves' guild as a runner but took to more larcenous work quickly. Is charming and smart but lacks somewhat in common sense. Which might explain why he is on the run, as he should have known better than to sleep with the guildmaster's wife. He claims to be the world's greatest liar, but is fiercely loyal to his friends and those who do good by him.
This sounds awesome, brings me back to my middle school days when all this was new. I will come up with a character this afternoon. Am thinking about going for a wizard or druid.
If you really need published modules for urban adventures...
I've had better experiences getting urban plotlines by reading the local news and thinking, "How would this play out in a fantasy setting?"
I should give a little background as to why I am looking for published stuff. We are going to be trying an ambitious campaign. Three different storylines all leading to Slumbering Tzar. Same players will each have a character in three different groups. Groups will join up when tackling Tzar, to improve survivability and so deaths will not mean having to come up with replacement characters for the player. One will be in a modified Red Hand of Doom, One will be a modified Temple of Elemental Evil, and I wanted one to be an urban adventure to shake things up. This is very labor intensive for the friendly neighborhood DM, so any way I can cheat on prep will help a lot.
What would you rank as the best published urban adventures. I am looking for either a mini-campaign or couple adventure arc, low to mid level. Can be from any addition, from 1st edition to pathfinder, but I am looking for something that has an old school feel. Thanks for any you can offer.
I am respectfully withdrawing my submission, as I am just starting up two other pbp's here on these boards. I don't want to spread myself to thin and hamper everyone elses experience. Thanks for the consideration.
I am working on an Aasimar Dwarf Inquisitor of Torag. I will have him more complete this afternoon but wnated to get thoughts on the 'aasimar dwarf' part. My interprtation is below
Spoiler:
Aasimar Dwarf
Standard Racial Traits
• Ability Score Racial Traits: Aasimars are insightful, confident, and personable. They gain +2 Wisdom and +2 Charisma.
• Type: Aasimars are outsiders with the native subtype.
• Size: Aasimars are Medium creatures and thus have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
• Base Speed: Aasimars have a base speed of 30 feet.
• Languages: Aasimars begin play speaking Common, Celestial and Dwarven. Aasimars with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following languages: Draconic, Elven, Gnome, Halfling, and Sylvan. See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
Defense Racial Traits
• Deathless Spirit: Particularly strong-willed aasimars possess celestial spirits capable of resisting the powers of death. They gain resistance 5 against negative energy damage. They do not lose hit points when they gain a negative level, and they gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against death effects, energy drain, negative energy, and spells or spell-like abilities of the necromancy school. This racial trait replaces celestial resistance.
• Defensive Training: Dwarves gain a +4 dodge bonus to AC against monsters of the giant subtype.
• Stability: Dwarves gain a +4 racial bonus to their Combat Maneuver Defense when resisting a bull rush or trip attempt while standing on the ground.
Feat and Skill Racial Traits
• Stonecunning: Dwarves gain a +2 bonus on Perception checks to notice unusual stonework, such as traps and hidden doors located in stone walls or floors. They receive a check to notice such features whenever they pass within 10 feet of them, whether or not they are actively looking.
• Skilled: Aasimar have a +2 racial bonus on Diplomacy and Perception checks.
Magical Racial Traits
• Incorruptible: Occasionally, aasimars arise with the ability to further ward away evil. Aasimars with this racial trait can cast corruption resistance against evil once per day as a spell-like ability. If an aasimar uses this ability on herself, the duration increases to 1 hour per level.
Senses Racial Traits
• Darkvision: Aasimar have darkvision 60 ft. (they can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet.)
Offense Racial Traits
• Hatred: Dwarves gain a +1 racial bonus on attack rolls against humanoid creatures of the orc and goblinoid subtypes because of their special training against these hated foes.
• Weapon Familiarity: Dwarves are proficient with battleaxes, heavy picks, and warhammers, and treat any weapon with the word “dwarven” in its name as a martial weapon.
joining in the hopefully tolerated rp fun. Also, is there a link somewhere that shows all the text formats, like how to color text, etc.(beyond what is listed in the bottom of the posting window).
As the door opened, Kieran noticed that the sun had started it slow descent into the west. Had he really been here at the card table all day. He recognized the half-orc who entered as the brother of his sometime sparring partner, Grob. He gave him a nod and went back to his card playing, as he had another winning hand he was eager to drop on the table.
As he laid down his pair of kings and japes an audible groan could be heard from the others at the table. He collected up the small pile of coins and stood to stretch his legs. A grumble grew from the table as the other patrons assumed he was going to walk away with the days wages. "Don't worry gents, you'll get a chance to win some of it back. But first I need to quench my thirst, taking your money is hard work afterall."
Kieran motioned for another round of ale for the table, and made a show of paying for it from the pile of freshly won coins. It was then that the door opened again and he noticed Grob walk in, heading straight for the bar to meet his brother. As he passed the table, Kieran gave him a wink, and smiling he said, "Grob, I may need to spar tomorrow, my limbs are getting stiff sitting here teaching these locals how professionals play at cards. I will look for you if I am up before midday."
I just posted my Human Rogue. He is a nephew to Colbin Vetnar, much to his annoyance. He considers himself the greatest swordsman, sneak, and gambler in the world, as well as the greatest liar.
@ridge, I tied Grobadon in to his background as someone he spars with to keep his swordarm from getting rusty.
Kieran Vetnar Rogue 1
Chaotic Goodl Medium Humanoid (Human Male)
Init +6; Senses Perception +4 (+5 traps)
--------------------
DEFENSE
-------------------- AC 17, touch 14, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +4 Dex)
HP 10 (1d8 + 1 con + 1 FC)
Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +0
--------------------
OFFENSE
-------------------- Speed 30 ft./ x4
Melee
Short Sword (2WP Primary) +2 (1d6+2) 19-20/x2
Short Sword (2WP Secondary) +2 (1d6+1) 19-20/x2
Dagger +4 (1d4+2) 19-20/x2
Ranged
Short Bow +4 (1d6) 20/x3
Special Attacks: Sneak Attack +1d6
--------------------
STATISTICS
-------------------- Str 14, Dex 18, Con 13, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 12
Base Attack +0; CMB +2; CMD 16
Feats Weapon Finesse, Two Weapon Fighting
Traits Fast-Talker, Reactionary
Armor Check Penalty -1
Favored Class Rogue (+1 hit point)
Skills Acrobatics +7 (1), Bluff +6 (1), Climb +5 (1), Disable Device +8 (1), Knowledge (local) +6 (1), Perception +4 (1) (+5 traps), Profession (Gambler) +4 (1), Sense Motive +4 (1), Sleight of Hand +7 (1), Stealth +7 (1), Use Magic Device +5 (1)
Languages Common, Dwarven, Halfling
Equipment Studded Leather Armor, 2 Short Swords, Dagger, Short Bow, Quiver w/20 arrows, Mwk Thieves’ Tools, Explorer’s Outfit, Backpack, Belt Pouch, 2 Sacks, Waterskin, 2 days Trail Rations, 2 Sunrods, Whetstone.
Cash 50gp 26sp 18cp
Encumbrance Light (44.5 lbs)
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
-------------------- Weapon Finesse May use dexterity in place of strength for attack bonus.
Two Weapon Fighting Penalties for TWP fighting reduced
Sneak Attack +1d6 damage when when enemy denied dex bonus or flanked
Trapfinding +1 to perception to find traps and disable device, can disarm magic traps.
Background
Spoiler:
Kieran is the nephew of Colbin Vetnar. He was sent here by his mother who lives in Skelt to get him away from the city and the crowd he was running with. He quickly got under his uncle's skin as he wanted nothing to do with the family business and would often be found gambling at the Seven Silvers when he should have been working in the Woodman's guild hall. Kieran finally made a deal with his uncle, in return for his uncle leaving him to his own affairs, Kieran would take part in the lighting ceremony in the name of the guild and his uncle. Afterward, he would be free to leave town and start his own life and not be his uncle's responsibility anymore.
Kieran has spent the five months since the agreement was struck taking the money of many a woodcutter at the tables in the Seven Silvers. He is also quite the ladies man, and has caught the eye (and more) of a few farmer's daughters. He has made friends with Jimes, and has even helped him by distracting patrons at the tables long enough for Jimes to make his special kind of living.
When everyone is at work, Kieran entertains himself by sparring with some of the town guards. He has taken to hounding a burly half-orc, Gobradon, as he seems the most able of the militiamen. He will often buy the Fighter a drink or two after they have sparred, usually with coin won from another of the guards the night before.
In the last month, Kieran has started to tire of Kassen, it is too small a town for his ego. His latest past-time is trailing and spying on Cygar Anravis. He is utterly perplexed why someone would come to Kassen of his own accord and stick aroud for no discernable purpose.
Kieran is motivated by a burning desire for glory and wealth and to see the world beyond the borders of the Fangwood.
posting a couple times a day will be no problem for me. I have a very flexible job with a lot of down time during the day. Being in Minneapolis, I will be a little ahead of @Oladon.
Expanding on my Bear Shaman, he will be a son of one of the woodcutters on Grimscar's crew. He got on Grimscar's bad side when he refused to join the woodcutting crew, being a mountain of a man like his father. He is participating in the lighting ceremony to try and smooth over his relations with his dad, who doesn't understand his 'tree-hugging' ways.
when I have played on the boards before I have always been martial types or clerics, I would like to take a swing at an arcane caster for this one.
I have an idea for a witch who hails from the Vargidan family. He is the outlier, born without sorcerous talent in a family of sorcerors, he felt like a freak. That is until his familiar showed up to show him the path to true power and how he could far exceed the constraints of his ecclectic family.
I am very interested in this, I will have a submission later today. I am going to work up an Acadamae wizard, or may go witch as that might be a nice twist to the back story.
I am very interested in this, I have wanted to play in an E6 game for a couple years now but have not found any takers. I will come up with a character concept this afternoon. If I wanted a cleric, what sort of pantheon are you using?
Casnae - Elven, Fighter, from Coran, holds a minor seat on the merchant council and wants to prove himself worthy of it. Significant NPC's: parents.
Mikal (wolfheart) - Human, Ranger/Inquisitor, from Coran, father killed by goblins, in debt to the church of Abadar. Significant NPC's: mother.
? (Ebonnard Raloon) - no info yet
Garion Tathos - Half-elf, Cleric, searches for his elven father, has ties with Casnae. Significant NPC's: Astrid BelVan.
Gorgutz Lanwell (whalerking) - Half-orc, Inquisitor, living in Coran, dedicated to stamping out evil, interested in alchemy. No significant NPC's listed yet (at least none in the campaign region).
Not to nit-pick, But Mikal's father is still alive and pumping out maps in Coran, it was his mentor in the caravan gaurd that died at the hands of goblins.
I have refined my vision of Mikal. He is a Human Ranger 2/ Inquisitor of Abadar 3. Short story is he is a caravan scout who was nearly killed and found by priests of Abadar. Nursed back to health in Gumlat and trained as an inquisitor. Charged with traveling with caravans, scouting out threats to trade and cities, and spying on the activities of the thieve's guild and the mageocracy. Details are below.
Backstory:
Spoiler:
Mikal grew up the son of a cartographer who had a small shop in Coran, his father, Torv, created maps for all manner of customers but never left the street they lived on. His mother, Anna, took care of the books and ordered supplies and other goods. But not Mikal, his mind wandered down every road and river, along coastlines and over mountains.
When he was finally of age, he signed on as a caravan guard and set out to see the world. His skill with maps and knowledge of geography made him stand out from the usual rabble who signed on for such duty. He was assigned to train with the scouts and was mentored by a grizzled veteran by the name of Dragun. Dragun turned the boy into a lethal scout, and taught him the finer aspects of life on the road (where to get deals on gear in Gumlat, where not to drink in Issust Hold, etc.)Mikal always brought Dragun home with him for a meal when they were in Coran, and they would spend the night pouring over his fathers maps telling tales of the places they had been.
During one trip north of Gumlat, the caravan was waylaid by an especiallly crafty tribe of goblins. The group was descimated, Dragun was killed, and Mikal was left for dead. He was dicovered by a group of Clerics of Abadar who were on a mission in the north trying to establish the rule of law among the barbarian tribes. They returned with him to Gumlat and he was nursed back to health by the local temple. But Abadar does not dole out healing and hospice for free and the price of his salvation soon became apparent. He was enlisted into the church and taught the traditions of the Master of the First Vault. It was decided that his skills as a scout could be put to use in the Inquisition. He was trained and tasked with rooting out threats to the church and trade in the region, and to keep an eye on the theive's guilds and even the ruling mageocracy. To accomplish his mission he would return to his profession of scouting for caravans, and clandestinely report to the church when he visited the cities on the routes.
Friends:
Spoiler:
Other than his mother and father in Coran, Mikal has a few others that are inportant to him. Dessa, a barmaid in Issust Hold holds his heart in her dusky eyes. He often takes lesser paying routes that will lead him to her arms for a fortnight, much to the consternation of his masters at the temple. Mikal also has a friend in Balen, a timber merchant in Gumlat who housed him during his recovery. Mikal has never directly met with the leaders of the church who control his strings, so as not to be able to identify them under magical compulsion.
motivations/fears:
Spoiler:
Mikal is motivated by a desire to repay his debt to the church, take advantage of his charge to explore the world, and to live up to the standard of professionalism set for him by Dragun. He lives in fear of being caught unawares as he was in the ambush of the goblins, he is meticulous in his preperations because of this. He also has a fear of spiders. While he will not run shreiking from them, he will avoid dealing with them if at all possible.
Physical Description:
Spoiler:
Mikal is 5'10" tall and weighs 185 pounds. He wears his sandy brown hair short and has a full gotee that covers a scar on his chin from the goblin attack. His eyes are amber and are creased from years spent in the field and betray a man who has seen a lot in his 28 years. His tanned skin is covered in many small scars, badges won the hard way on the road. His clothes are utilitarian in design and often covered in dust from the road. He dresses so as not to stand out, as he has found that many powerful people do not seem to notice the caravan guard standing there while they are talking of their plots and schemes.
Backstory:Mikal grew up the son of a cartographer who had a small shop in Coran, his father, Torv, created maps for all manner of customers but never left the street they lived on. But not Mikal, his mind wandered down every road and river, along coastlines and over mountains. When he was finally of age, he signed on as a caravan guard and set out to see the world. His skill with maps made him stand out from the usual rabble who signed on for such duty. He found himself assigned to serving the caravan captain, Dragun. He learned from Dragun more than just martial skills, he learned how to lead and inspire men. He never failed to visit his father whenever they ventured through Coran and he would describe the things that he had seen his father draw in the past. During one trip north of Gumlat, the caravan was waylaid by an especiallly crafty tribe of goblins. The group was descimated, Dragun was killed, and Mikal was left for dead. He was dicovered by a group of Clerics of Abadar who were on a mission in the north trying to establish the rule of law among the barbarian tribes. He listened to there teachings, at first out of gratitude at being saved but soon out of genuine curiosity. Soon they devised a way that his particular skills could be of use to them and the church, and they brought him to the temple in Gumlat to begin his training. He would be taught to seek out the corrupting influences that were eating away at the core of law and order in Coran and therefore all the realms. He would be sent to the merchant council as a devout agent for them to use in their wisdom to further their and the churches aims.
Mikal is human and is about 6' tall and weighs about 195 pounds. He has sun kissed brown hair and Amber eyes that are creased from many years in the field. He has a broad shouldered, well muscled frame and walks with a deliberate gait. He dresses in conservative fashion and in the white and gold colors of his god, Abadar.
Mikal is a Human Fighter (Tactician) 2/ Inquisitor of Abadar 3.
I would like to submit Errol, an Ifrit Arcane Duelist Bard 5. Hailing from Issust Hold he has recently arrived in Caron hoping to access the secrets of the great library. He comes from a hard scrabble background, being the bastard son of an innkeeper's daughter, and has had to claw and fight for all he has achieved in the world.
I will develop a more rounded background and submit later tonight.
Sorry, I don't have access to the tech you listed above, I will keep an eye on the journal though to see how the others fair. Thanks for the consideration.
I would love to play in this game, have wanted to venture into the depths of the world's most deadly dungeon for a long time now. I am thinking about an Inquisitor or a Cleric of Mitra. I will work something up later today and post if you are cool with that.
I would like to submit a Cleric or Inquisitor of Abadar. His reasons for being in Sandpoint would revolve around the church in Magnamar wanting to justify the expense of investing in this new cathedral. He will have overseen expenditures on the cathedral during construction as well as travelled the area promoting commerce and civilization. He will have had a secondary mission as well, investigating the circumstances of the 'recent unpleasantness' with an eye toward keeping these tragedies from spreading beyond the local level. He will be a 'Sherlock' like detective with an absentminded devotion to his work.
If you have any comments as to where you'd like the story to do, how you'd like to develop characters, etcetera, please post them in this thread. I dont promise you'll get everything you ask for, but I'll see what I can do to accomodate you and it's a good way to prod me in new directions.
One obvious and albeit cliched avenue to explore is who is Eland's father.
I see Eland developing into a local hero. The vigilante who wraps himself in a cloak of confusion. He will no doubt take actions however that have dire consequences for others as retribution for his acts is taken out on the citizens of Bastion. A big part of his maturation will be how long before he realizes the consequences of his actions and when he finally does realize what he is responsible for does it change him or does he accept the collateral damage for the greater good. Just some thoughts.
The group is without a rogue. I had an idea for one above, but am not locked in to having to play that character. I also thought a cleric of Abadar would be a good fit for this group.
The more I think about it the more I want to play the cleric, I am going to create both characters and will use the one that fits the needs of the group the most.
Awesome, can't wait to get started. I wanted to pass along an idea. I am thinking of a rogue who will head for the holy liberator prestige class (very anti-tyranny, throw off shackles of oppression thing). Interested to see if this will mesh with character generation rules.
I just want to make sure I am reading the rules right. When I have a bonded item I can use it to cast one spell per day that I know and can cast. Does this mean one of the spells I have prepared for that day or just a spell from my spellbook that a wizard of my level is able to cast?
If you have room I would like to join. I would like to see the character generation guidlines but am thinking that the group could use a sneaky rogue, maybe a rogue/druid combo for maximum stealth and some added magical firepower.
It seems we have a lot of people angling toward ranger/ rogue/ swashbuckler. I would be willing to come up with a wizard of some sort. Maybe he is an outlaw, practicing his craft outside the law or a legal wizard who works to subvert the law of the warlords. Would like some background to flesh this out if you have time.
I just read the background info and think i will be doing an Elven Enchanter who will be trying to pass for a bard and will be heading for the eldritch knight prestige class.
I am thinking of an urban ranger/bard mix. good in social situations and knows his way around the business end of a weapon. Rakish but with a heart of gold.
Could also go with the Paladin of Heironeous or Pelor who must work for justice from the shadows lest he be caught and imprisoned or worse.
I can do whichever works best with the adventure ideas you have.
I would be interested in joining. I would like to hear a little more about the setting to get some character ideas going that would mesh well. Look forward to hearing more about it.
Below is a class I have made for my home campaign based on the sentinel class from Dragon 310. It is a class of holy warriors that have celestial patrons and are dedicated to protecting Golarion from devils and demons. They were born out of the ashes of the paladins of Aroden who had a desire to serve the powers of good without the fear of deicide stripping them of their abilities. I have put in te spoiler section as it is quite long.
I would appreciate any feedback you could give as to flavor and balance.
Spoiler:
Sentinel
The Sentinel is a wandering crusader who patrols the width and breadth of the world, constantly watching for incursions from the Lower Planes. The Sentinel finds the endless hordes of demons, devils and other fiends to be the most offensive and dangerous threat to life. He has sacrificed much to become the perfect warrior, dedicated to preventing them from gaining any further foothold in the world he loves. They belong to a knightly order founded shortly after the death of Aroden, when the gods feared that further deicide was a threat. These holy warriors are not beholden to a single god for their power, rather, a whole host of celestials act as proxies ensuring that the death of another god will not result in the loss of their powers and ability to defend the world.
To the Sentinel, evil is simply that: evil. It can be hidden under a haze of entropy and chaos, it can masquerade under a hundred diabolically written laws, or it can revel in the truth of its cruelty. It makes no difference to the Sentinel, nor do the methods he uses to combat it. Often, a Sentinel uses the laws of the land and local governments to fight against incursions of evil, but just as often, he is forced to fight alone, against established tradition, and against the will of society.
Sentinels are most often neutral good, though a few lawful good and chaotic good sentinels do exist. Sentinels are not pledged to any one deity, rather, they are faithful to their order and their celestial sponsor. There strongholds are always located on the fringes of civilization and in hard to reach locations. As further protection, the warded so that no one may locate them by magical means or enter them without the blessing of a celestial host. Sentinels do not wear badges and membership in their order is usually a closely held secret. Other members are identified by code words and phrases that are bestowed by their sponsors at need, and only good for a single encounter. They also refrain from wearing heavy armor or clothing that would call attention to them or make them look more threatening than a common soldier.
Alignment: Any Good
Hit Die: d10
Base Attack Bonus: as Paladin
Saves: as Paladin
Class Skills: Craft (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Intimidate (Cha), Knowledge (Religion) (Int), Knowledge (the Planes) (Int), Perception (Wis), Profession (Wis), Ride (Dex), Sense Motive (Wis), Spellcraft (Int), Survival (Wis)
Skill Ranks per Level: 2 + Int Modifier
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Sentinels are proficient with all simple and martial weapons, with light and medium armor, and with shields (except tower shields).
Aura of Good (Ex): The power of a Sentinels aura of good is equal to his Sentinel level.
Weapon Focus: Through their strict training, the Sentinel receives weapon focus as a bonus feat.
Celestial Sponsor: Upon initiation, a Sentinel is sponsored by a celestial being who acts as a proxy for all the sentinel and conduit for his divine power. This celestial grants the Sentinel knowledge of the location of strongholds and passwords at need. The Celestial may also set tasks for the Sentinel that the Sentinel is oathbound to complete. The Sentinel may contact the celestial through prayer once per week at first level to seek guidance. The Celestial will always answer any questions as vaguely as possible in the hopes that the Sentinel will discover the answer for himself and thereby grow in knowledge and become a more independent agent for good. At some time after the Sentinel has reached 10th level, the Celestial Sponsor will send out what is known as ‘The Call’. This is a compulsion to seek out a candidate for initiation into the order and accompany him to a stronghold. At such a time, the Sentinel is also responsible for the first six months of the initiates training, by which time the initiate has bonded with a new celestial sponsor. After this six month training is complete, the Sentinel must make a choice, remain in the stronghold and take up a life of contemplation and prayer, or leave the stronghold and continue the crusade. If they choose to leave the stronghold, all memory of its location is wiped from the mind of the Sentinel and they are fated never to enter another Sentinel stronghold again.
Alertness: Sentinels receive alertness as a bonus feat
Detect Evil (Sp): At will, a Sentinel can use detect evil, as the spell. A sentinel can, as a move action, concentrate on a single item or individual within 60 feet and determine if it is evil, learning its strength as if having studied it for 3 rounds. While focusing on one individual or object, the Sentinel does not detect evil in any other object or individual within range.
Smite Evil (Su): Once per day, a Sentinel can call out to the powers of good to aid him in his struggle against evil. This ability is activated as a swift action and lasts for one round. When smiting evil, a Sentinel adds his charisma bonus (if any) on his attack roll and deals one extra point of damage per Sentinel level whenever he attacks an evil creature. If the creature hit by the Sentinel using smite evil is and outsider with the evil subtype, the bonus to damage increases to 1d6 points of damage per two levels the Sentinel possesses (rounded down, minimum +1d6) and the damage automatically bypasses any DR the creature might possess.
In addition, while the smite evil is in effect, the Sentinel gains a deflection bonus equal to his charisma modifier (if any) to his AC against attacks made by evil creatures. If the sentinel accidentally smites a creature that is not evil, he does not gain any bonuses an attack or damage rolls, but he retains the AC bonus against evil creatures.
The Sentinel gains additional smite per day at 8th, 13th, and 18th level to a maximum of 4 smites per day. Starting at 13th level, the smiting effect last for 2 rounds.
Fiendslayer (Ex): Sentinels gain a number of special benefits to combat evil outsiders. A 4th level Sentinel gets a +2 competence bonus on attack rolls against evil outsiders. On a successful attack, he deals an extra 1d6 points of damage. This damage stacks with any extra damage caused by smite evil ability. These bonuses increase to +4/ +2d6 at 9th level, +6/ +3d6 at 14th level, and +8/ +4d6 at 17th level.
The competency bonus also applies to Intimidate, Perception, and Sense Motive checks when those skills are used against evil outsiders.
Censure Outsiders (Su): Sentinels can censure outsiders, much as a cleric can channel energy. When a Sentinel uses this ability, he unleashes a wave of celestial power in a 30 foot burst. All evil outsiders in this radius must make a will save (DC 10 + Sentinels Cha modifier + Sentinels level) or be censured.
A censured outsider whose HD is equal to or greater than the Sentinels level become stunned for 1 round. An outsider who has HD equal to half the sentinels level but not equal to the sentinels level is stunned for 1d4 rounds and must make another Will save (same DC) or be sent back to its home plane as if it had been the subject of a dismissal spell. Only one outsider may be dismissed in this way by any single censure outsider attempt. If more than one outsider is forced to make the second Will save, check for the outsider with the lowest HD first. All outsiders within the radius that have HD less than half the Sentinels level are automatically dismissed with no additional saving throw allowed.
A Sentinel may censure outsiders once per day for every 4 levels he possesses.
Damage Reduction (Ex): Starting at 5th level, Sentinels have the ability to shrug off some amount of injury from each blow or attack. A Sentinel gains damage reduction 1/-, at 10th level, this increases to 2/-, and at 15th level it increases to 3/-.
Consecrated Casting (Ex): When a Sentinel reaches 5th level, spells cast by him are evil outsiders become more difficult to resist. The Sentinel adds +2 to caster level checks to overcome an evil outsider's spell resistance and a +2 to the DC of any saving throw the spell allows.
Courage of Heaven (Su): A Sentinel of 6th level or higher is immune to fear spells or effects. At 11th level, this immunity expands to include enchantment spells and effects. At 16th level and higher, these immunities extend to all allies within a 20’ radius of the Sentinel.
Weapon Specialization: Sentinels gain Weapon Specialization as a bonus feat at 6th level.
Mettle (Su): A Sentinel’s special training allows him to shrug off magical effects that would otherwise harm him. If a Sentinel makes a successful Will or Fortitude save that would normally reduce the spell’s effect, he suffers no effect from the spell at all. Only those spells with a Saving Throw entry of ‘will partial’ or ‘fortitude half’, or similar entries can be negated through this ability.
Bonus Feat: At 12th level the Sentinel gains a bonus feat from the following list: Endurance, Great Fortitude, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Lightning Reflexes, Persuasive, or Skill Focus.
True Sight (Sp): A 19th level Sentinel can use True Seeing as the spell, at will.
Celestial Ascension (Su): At 20th level, you can call upon the power of the heavens. You gain immunity to acid, cold, and petrifaction. You also gain resist electricity 10, resist fire 10, and a +4 racial bonus on saves against poison. Finally, you gain the tongues ability, allowing you to speak with any creature that has a language.
Code of Conduct: A sentinel must be of good alignment and loses all class abilities if he ever willingly commits an evil act. The sentinel is most at home in the wilderness or frontier settings. He only journeys into large cities when absolutely necessary, and he avoids travel to other planes except in the most dire of need, since his vows require him to battle evil on his home planes. These vows call for him to protect the natural order of the world from becoming influenced or tainted by the forces of the evil outer planes. Additionally, the Sentinel is honor-bound to provide assistance to any town or outpost that is in need, to prevent the roots of evil from taking hold. Sentinels must always place the extermination of a fiend above all other priorities. Failure to adhere to this code can result in censure from his celestial sponsor and the loss of all special abilities until such time as atonement has been made. Extreme transgressions can result in expulsion from the Order and the sinner being hunted and destroyed by his sponsor.
Sentinel Spell List:
1st Level: Bless, Bless Water, Bless Weapon, Detect Poison, Divine Favor, Endure Elements, Hold Portal, Magic Weapon, Protection From Evil, remove Fear, Shield of Faith, Summon Monster I
As the subject line says, it happened last night. I am running a beta game for my son and some friends. When one of the boys got a call on his cell and told the person on the other end he was "at his pathfinder game". I thought it was cool that they thought of it in those terms, like when we were 'just playing d&d'.
I disagree with the fighter having to be this heavily armored juggernaut. The majority of warriors in history as well as fiction have not fit this mold. To me, the only thing that perpetuates this is the mechanics of the game. My proposal does not disallow a tank, but it gives everyone else an option should they want to play something different.
I think that not only should there be an option for swashbuckler types but other archetypes as well. The swashbuckler, bodyguard, survivalist, knight, archer, horseman, and pit-fighter are all very different concepts that evolve out of the base fighter class. My thought is that to make the fighter more attractive some changes could be made without changing the class’ utility as the entry level option for new players.
Add Acrobatics, Perception, and Stealth as class skills. The limited number of skill points ensures that these will not make the class a hardy version of the rogue, but it will make it easier for players to develop their concept without multi-classing.
Let fighters trade armor proficiency for skill points. At creation, a character can drop heavy proficiency to gain +1 skill point per level, or drop Heavy and Medium proficiency to gain +3 skill points per level. These points would be lost if the player later took the armor proficiency as a feat. These points come from the fighter not have to spend time training in those types of armor, thus having time to follow other pursuits, and would be lost for the opposite reason.
Add talents that can be taken with the fighter’s bonus feat slots. Things like the Insightful Strike of the swashbuckler, the defensive stance of the knight protector, and the rousing speech of the Commander variant from Dragon 310 would make great additions and allow experienced players to flesh out the fighter beyond being just a meat shield.
I think these suggestions add to the depth of the class, make it less likely to be multi-classed for character concept reasons, and does little to make it less desirable as the ‘basic’ class.
The first thing I did was open the pdf to the combat feats. After skimming them quickly I am pleased with the changes. I for one am happy that you did away with the chaining. Great work.
The swashbuckler, bodyguard, survivalist, knight, archer, horseman, and pit-fighter are all very different concepts that evolve out of the base fighter class. My thought is that to make the fighter more attractive some changes could be made without changing the class’ utility as the entry level option for new players.
Add Acrobatics, Perception, and Stealth as class skills. The limited number of skill points ensures that these will not make the class a hardy version of the rogue, but it will make it easier for players to develop their concept without multi-classing.
Let fighters trade armor proficiency for skill points. At creation, a character can drop heavy proficiency to gain +1 skill point per level, or drop Heavy and Medium proficiency to gain +3 skill points per level. These points would be lost if the player later took the armor proficiency as a feat. These points come from the fighter not have to spend time training in those types of armor, thus having time to follow other pursuits, and would be lost for the opposite reason.
Add talents that can be taken with the fighter’s bonus feat slots. Things like the Insightful Strike of the swashbuckler, the defensive stance of the knight protector, and the rousing speech of the Commander variant from Dragon 310 would make great additions and allow experienced players to flesh out the fighter beyond being just a meat shield.
I think these suggestions add to the depth of the class, make it less likely to be multi-classed for character concept reasons, and does little to make it less desirable as the ‘basic’ class.
I don't think that several of the modifiers jive with the description of the race.
Dwarves should have a -2 to DEX not CHA. They are stout of build and therefore less agile. I also do not like the idea of negative CHA modifiers. I don't think force of personality is something that is racially dependent.
Gnomes should have a +2 to DEX not CON. This is more consistant with there conection to the Fey. It also dovetails with the frail aspect of fey creatures and the inclusion of gnomes with the frail races in the hit point sidebar.
Half-orcsshould have a +2 to CON not WIS. While some may be cunning, racial speaking they are bigger and more durable than humans and the bonuses should reflect as much.
Looking at some of the racial modifiers, they did not seem to jive with the description of the race. The changes I think should be made are as follows:
Dwarves with there stout build would seem to be less agile than the baseline. I am also opposed to negative charisma modifiers as sheer force of personality should not be race dependenet.
Gnomes, owing to there closeness to the fey, should be less hardy and more agile. Dumping the Con bonus also helps bring the gnome in line with the frail races as listed in the starting hit point side bar.
Half-Orcs, while they may be cunning and wily, they may lack in common sense thus negating a Wisdom bonus. To me they are stronger and more durable than the baseline and the modifiers should reflect that.
I like the hybrid system. As for compatability, it would not be hard to look at a NPC's skill ranks in a 3.5 pathfinder module for instance and say does this rise to the level of skilled or expert and apply ranking as such.
