Month: Nov 2021

White sands and driftwood…

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Thursday is here and that means it’s map day… I have a brief writeup to do today (as unfortunately work ran overtime tonight) but I still wanted to make sure I kept to my self enforced schedule of a daily post. This weekend I will expands a bit more on maps and hope to be able to provide visual aids as well. In the mean time though I would suggest having a look out there at the fantastic artists we have in the community and where possible supporting them to do what they love and keep making artwork that inspires out adventures.

This week I looked to extraordinary creators and not did I find a gem that got that spark going. Caeora draws on twitch and has awesome maps and tokens available to purchase on his website. So please check his content out!

White Sands

11ThMa1

The grass became coarse and hardy, I guess it must need to beings this close to the salt water and sand mused the old man. As he shook off the leather shoes that he had walked in to this spot he looked around the edge of the cliff, short by cliff standards barely being 30ft incline until you hit the soft white sand. Turning his gaze along the horizon the white sand, course grass and blue waves went on as far as his eyes could see. He had always liked the sea that’s why he lived here. The path down to the beach was narrow, barely enough space for one person to walk down, but it had some crude steps carved into the rock and dirt to enable people to walk down to the sand and waves. Wriggling his toes in the sand he breathed in the salty air and shrugged the sack on his shoulder, not that I was full and heavy but carrying anything these days seemed to take it out on him.

Today he was looking for ingredients for the king and the beach is just where he needed to find the last few things. Scales from a fish and mother of pearl, ground into a powder of course. Walking through the fine white sand he moved slower than normal, the sun already passed his zenith he would need more assistance if he was to get this done. Closing his eyes he tapped into the weave, drawing forth a bead of arcane power before reciting a few harsh arcane syllables. As a gust of wind travelled across the exposed shore the sand came to settle upon the invisible servant that he had just conjured. Giving it the orders to search for mother of pearl the servant went off towards she shore and rockpools that formed around a jagged spike of rock that gave the name “Long fang Beach” to this area.

As the old mage dragged his feet across the sand he scoured the white grains for a fish, or something with scales – his experiment didn’t really specify a certain type of scale only that it came from something that swam. As he walked he drew out wand, muttering a single word the wand transformed into a walking stick which he pushed through the last of the lose sand before the beach met the ocean and became more-or less solid. Poking and shifting the sand around he had no luck. Spitting more out of frustration than the tobacco he was chewing absentmindedly he moved to the heaped seaweed and the waves. For someone who lived near the beach he didn’t like the water especially these days since they had grown so unseasonably cold.

After an hour or so of combing the beach he met up with his servant near the rock pools, the invisible arcane conjuring having found the mother of pearl he handed the sack to the figure and informed it to also look for something with scales along the water edge. As the being moved off his walking staff hit something heavy amongst the weed. Calling back the figure he looked down at the piece of scale covered flesh at his feet. It was the calf of a humanoid, the skin lightly covered in iridescent scales. How interesting, it had been many years since he had seen something as such and many called him crazy for his so called discovery. Bagging the lower leg he got his invisible servant to carry the bag and stay close.

The lone tower of stone piercing the waters edge, separating white sand from the beating waves now not as inviting as it was when he first came down to the shore. There were many holes, nooks and caves riddled amongst the 100ft pillar of stone, not all of it had been explored yet and he didn’t like the feeling he was getting being this close to it. Wrapping his hand hand around the bag and dismissing his unseen servant he used his free hand to clasp one of the rings he wore on his wrist he invoked the stored magic within. Instantly he felt the magic tingle his skin as he watched the bag he was now holding turn invisible. Feeling a bit safer now he began to walk back to his hut, following his footprints where he could as to attempt to hide his presence from what ever, or who ever could be watching.

Well that’s a taste of what I hope to be able to reveal this weekend so make sure you come back on Sunday (most likely) to catch up on what was produced.

Don’t forget that you don’t need a map to run a TTRPG session, you can make do with describing the situation. Short, sharp and concise paragraphs can really set the scene for our players and give them what they need to be able to map out the battlefield in their mind.

And, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

A change in the currents…

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Wednesday is here and it has brought with it a twist for us to consider for this weeks objective. This week we are looking at the raiders that come from the sea to take the souls of those who live on the surface. Currently our players have encountered the raiders on the beach when they tried to ambush the party when they were camping by the sea. In the morning the slain elf had disappeared from where they had stored the body, continuing onto the city of Arciryas they discovered that the city was also struck by the same assailants and several people were slain.

Boarding party

11WeBP

The cold water gripped and felt like it was squeezing and compressing his exposed flesh, and it comforted him, reminding him of home in the deep. Looking over at his companions and their war mounts, various sharks, rays and eels, he steadied his own lithe ray, stroking the edge of her fin as he knew that it comforted her.

As the surface dwellers ships passed overhead the signal was given, his detachment was responsible for disabling the large ship and overthrowing it’s crew without drawing alarm before stage two of he plan.

His mount swam quickly and silently beneath the water, changing how he held onto his beast companion so that he would be under the ray as it approached the keel of the ship as to no be spotted, he quickly disappeared under the ship. Releasing his hold from the ray he called upon his blessed bracers as octopus tentacles stretched over his fingers attached to the barnacle encrusted ship giving him a reliable hold on the wet wood.

Climbing above the water he paused for a moment to give his lungs and eyes a moment to adjust to the surface world, his second set of eyelids folding back the bright light from the moons above caused him a moment of hesitation. The training and raids further down coast had not been enough to fully prepare him for the surface world but he had trained for this moment. The tentacle bracers biting into the wood he climbed the keel of the ship and peered over the edge, pausing again to spot his allies as they viewed the humans, elves and dwarves of the surface.

Three sailors walked the length of the ship, lazily gripping spears as they chatted and discussed the day, weather or what they were most looking forward to do doing when they returned to Arciryas.

A large ray, not his, leapt from the water on the other side of the boat causing a large splash. Several sailors ran to the railing in time to see several more rays jump from the water sending sparkling droplets of sea water onto the on lookers who hooted and hollered in delight at the animals putting on a display next to the ship.

This was the signal. Waiting a few moments for more of the sailors to appear on the deck of the ship the elf and his allies slowly on webbed toes crept over the railing and onto the wood of the desk. Twelve sailors in total stood and watched the rays jumping from the water, six elves crept forward.

As they reached their targets they kicked out, sending a sailor over overboard into the waiting jaws of the sharks the swam below the keel of the ship. As the elves sent the men over the edge their weapons whipped out and stabbed into the neck of each of the sailors that remained. Slowing pulling the shell dagger from the neck of the surface dweller a large strand of blue essence came forth causing the the eyes of the sailors rolled back in their sockets as their life essence was ripped from their bodies. As the last of the essence was pulled from a body the elves caught the bodies, pulling them into the shadows they began their separate dark rituals.

Closing his eyes he stared at the man who’s head laid in his lap. Cutting his finger tips he gripped the head and began to chant in the shadow of stacked crates. After a minute of chanting his body started to become numb as his bones and flesh started to liquify. Long strands of water that used to be him flowed over his arms and into the dead man in his lap. As his head began to waver and turn to water the last of his body flowed into the body in his lap.

His eyes snapped open, looking up at the flickering sale above him he could tell by the luminosity of the moon that the ritual had worked.

He stood up, taking a few shaky steps as he got used to his new body before walking to the railing he dropped the shell blade into the ocean – signifying the ritual was complete. Looking around the boat he noticed six other sailors walking, the shakiness in their legs disappearing as quickly as his had.

As they looked around their ship their minds recognised what each of the instruments, ropes, pulleys and wheels did around the ship. Moving around the ship they regained the positions where their respective bodies were meant to be having access to some of the memories of the people they inhabited now.

“Jaxon, have you seen Percy?” a man who carried himself much as a prince would.

“Last I saw Percy he was leaning over the railing looking at rays. captain” he replied, his memories kicking in.

The captain stomped across the deck, looking for the missing men before stomping down stairs again to organise a search party…

That’s it for twists this week, the twist that we are looking at is the invading party having infiltrated the ships that are coming to aid the city of Arciryas.

There is one other twist that I was going to write about tonight but I may just leave that for the writeup this weekend to expand on what is happening in the city or Arciryas and around it.

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for maps and as always don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Salty Seadogs…

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Tuesday is here and that means we are looking at NPCs for our adventure this week and as we are in a city by the sea let’s explore the stereotypical people you would expect to meet in a sea-side city.

As to change up the pace a bit I used more of the Fantasy-Faces that I have previously generated as well as looking for a generic sea-faring half-orc image to suit what I had in mind for Rafnir. I think this will do and looking at pngwing.com they are open for non-commercial use which is great news for us.

Rafnir Coral-Tusk

11TuRCt

Image sourced from pngwing.com, all rights go to original artist.

As the water lapped at the side of the boat the muscle bound half-orc dipped his hand in the water as he turned the rudder towards the shore. The water was cold, uncharacteristically cold for this time of year and the tide, and normally he would be able to see the seafloor considering that the sky was clear however today it was dark and murky – a bad omen.

Unfolding the held sail he whizzed towards one of his nets. As his boat, the Seabreeze, skimmed next to his net he reached down and snared the net with his worn fingers and hooked it to the side of the boat so it wouldn’t come loose as he towed it closer to shore.

As he neared the shore he slackened the sails and slowed the boat so he could bring in his haul. Unlike the other predominately human sailors Rafnir was born with the strength of his orc father, this helped him with his particular style of netting.

Pulling up the thick coarse net he untangled the fish as he came across them which were fewer in numbers than normal which boded poorly for him. About half way through pulling up his net he came across something he didn’t think he would see, a severed hand. Examining the hand briefly he noticed that the skin was pale and covered in a very fine layer of iridescent scales. Looking at the cut that separates hand from limb he noted the irregular tears in flesh which looked like shark tooth, but when he looked at his netting he could see that it looks like what ever separated the hand from owner also appeared to have tried to cut through his net to free the hand. A futile attempt as the net was woven with a strand of admantine through the cord and enchanted by mages to be nearly unbreakable.

Putting the hand aside he pulled in the rest of the haul, not even a quarter the number of fish he was used to, and came in to dock his boat – that’s when he noticed the wailing from the houses at the base of Arciryas.

As he tied the last of the knots to keep his boat moored he hauled his find, the hand included, back to his home – finding his neighbour ashen faced sitting on the step outside of Rafnirs house

“Good morning Astrid, what’s happened?” He said, dumping the net and bucket next to his door as he squatted down next to the woman.

“Raf, something came into my house. They took my mother, well, took something from her. She is dead,” Astrid nodded towards the slightly open door, a beam of light from a window that pointed towards the sea revealed the still form of Ingrid, Astrid’s mother laying peacefully in her bed. “It wasn’t just my mother, others lost their husbands, wives, daughters, sons. I don’t know of a family who didn’t lose someone from their house early this morning.” Hugging Astrid, Rafnir just let his old friend weep. Looking into his house through the hole in the wall (where a window used to be) he saw his harpoon mounted on the wall. His cutlass and leathers from a lifetime ago glinting in the box at the end of his bed.

“Does anyone know who or what did this?” Rafnir asked, his hand looking back the strange hand in the bucket.

“No one seems to know. I did see only Jake talking to some adventurers who came through town just before you returned. I think they went to the keep to talk to Lord Blake” Astrid said, sniffing and drying her eyes on her sleeve.

“I guess I have to go talk to Lord Blake then.” Rafnir said as he released Astrid from his embrace and standing “Guess I better get dressed then, cant see the lord without my good leathers on”. Rafnirs mind was already on the ritual of putting on his armour and weapons. He would likely be giving honour to Umberlee in the days to come so he may as well look the part.

Lord Blake Trevally

11TuBTr

The adventurers, if they can be called that, were the first people to have supposedly encountered the seaborne invaders and to not only survive the endeavour but to also kill one of their assailants. He didn’t believe the old hermit would still be living but the crazy wizard was the only one who, he believes, could manifest a way to find and combat the growing threat of these raiders from somewhere off the coast and if the adventurers could bring back anything that the wizard had been working on then that would be a boon for him.

“Sir, Rafnir is here to see you” Shelford, his page.

“Send him in” Blake called back, Raf was an old sailor in the city, amongst other things, and as much as Blake hated to admit it, the half-orc had been instrumental in his rise to lordship and the sailor knew it.

“Blake, good to see you old friend” Rafnir called as he strode into the hall clad in layers of cloth and leather, a long curved sword as hit hip and a harpoon strapped to his back. To Blake it looked like his old friend was gearing up to be a warrior again.

“Raf, what brings you here, I take it that you aren’t dressed like this just for old memories sake. I take it you have heard what has happened in the city early this morning then.” Blake said as he strode towards his friend, clasping his forearm as Raf exchanged the same greeting, the half-orc had lost none of his strength despite his growing years.

“I have just come from bringing in one of my nets and I found this” Raf said, reaching into his trench coat and bringing forth a severed hand “I don’t know what it belongs to, merfolk perhaps, but I did notice that the fingers have a very fine webbing between them” the half-orc explained as he demonstrated the webbing by moving the index finger and middle finger apart slightly.

“Ah, those adventurers were telling the truth. This looks to belong to one of the invaders that attacked last night, a party of adventurers that just left for old Petrel’s hut described seeing several figures come out of the sea and attack their camp last night. They managed to kill one of the assailants before they fled but before they could bring the body into town it disappeared seemingly with the tide.” Blake said, musing as he examined the hand. “Raf, could you do me another fa..”

“Favour and go after the adventurers to make sure they aren’t yanking your chain?” Rafnir completed for Lord Blake “I was going to take the hand to see old Pestrel next any way to get him to tell me what this was from.” Rafnir said as he waved the hand to emphasise his point before stuffing it into his pocket and walking towards the door. “Oh and Blake, one last thing. The waters are dark and cold – I know you don’t believe in bad omens or anything like that but just be careful. There is a strong undercurrent at play here that I believe is bigger than we can see from the surface”

Blake just nodded to his friend as he left. After a moment he beckoned Shelford over “Get word to the patrols. We need them off the roads and back into the city. I won’t lose a battle on my own turf, we will defend the sea. Also, see if we can get word to our fleet – we will want them back to help defend the shore and waters.

Shelford saluted before running out the door.

Blake returned to his desk and chair and looked over the papers scattered over the table before his fingers touched a book he had been avoiding for days now The world which dwells below.

That’s it for tonight, a brief glimpse at two NPCs who live in the city of Arciryas which will help flesh out a bit on how they interact with the players and their characters. Remember that NPCs are what bring our game worlds to life, they are the ones who hand out quests, give rewards and provide insight and motivation for players to do the things they do so spending a bit of time to investigate who they are, who they were and who they aspire to be can be a good quick win for us in increasing the immersion for our games.

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow where we investigate what twist we can introduce here, the more I think about this adventure the more sure I am that this will span over a few weeks worth of writeups, so after this week if we want to see more of the adventures around Arciryas let me know and I will explore a bit deeper, pun intended. Otherwise I will look at what other adventures we have in store for our party and see where we go from there.

As always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

A depth where the sun can’t reach…

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Well Monday is here and that means another adventure. This week I’ll be experimenting with something new for me, perhaps old for others but it should be fun regardless.

This week is heavily inspired by two things, a book in the novel series by Adrian Tchaikovsky and an army faction in Warhammer Age Of Sigmar, the Idoneth Deepkin. So with that in mind let’s set sail on this adventure.

From the deep

11MoDo

As the party travelled along the road the crisp, refreshing salt air of the sea washed over their senses and sore muscles. As the dusk sub painted the seemingly endless waves of the southern seas with a pink and orange glow the party looked upon the citadel they were approaching. Large and foreboding the stone tower dominated the countryside. The keep itself was surrounded by impressive buildings and walls that separated the city from the outer buildings, homes and smaller shops that made up the city of Arciryas, or Nobel Ship in elven.

The party waved to passing by guardsmen who patrolled the roads near Arciryas as the party began to set up camp for the night. Despite the roads being famed for their safety they were not expected by the lord of the keep until tomorrow and they didn’t wish to travel through the night if there was no need.

The spring night air was warm and sweet which complimented the meagre stew they cooked up nicely. As dusk lost its duel with night the sky was flooded with stars and only the moonlight cast a silvery net across the ocean, not 200 feet from where the party camped after the low tide swept out.

An hour after dinner the party was woken up by Zandar who was on guard. Several figures had been seen leaving the water and stalking towards the campfire.

Quickly casting a cantrip to look like the party were still huddled around the fire, or asleep, the group hid behind a low sand dune and waited.

A spray of magically created water flew fourth causing the fire to splutter and go out as several lean and lithe figures darted out of the shadows to surround the illusionary figures.

The party snapped into action and spang from their hiding spot, the figures being caught in a trap charged into an aggressive counter attack. After a brief fight one of the figures lay dead at the feet of the adventurers and the other humanoids had fled into the shadows and waves. 

Investigating the body of the attacker they identified a kind of elf. Fine scales covered its skin and small gills were located just behind its ears. It’s armor was dark and leathery whilst its weapons looked to be made of extremely sharp shells, teeth and bone.

Wrapping it in cloth they set it close to the fire and went back to resting.

In the morning no trace of the body could be found as the tide had taken any trace of footprints with it.

The party approached the city of Arciryas to the scene of a large portion of the occupants of houses outside the wall in despair. When talking to the townsfolk they all reported the same thing. 

One of their loved ones was found dead in the morning.

One person, a human male, came forth having heard a shriek of alarm before walking into the room his wife was in. A lithe shadowy figure was seen standing over the body of their wife, a silvery blue light being drawn from the now lifeless body into a strange stone held in the hand of the figure. When he charged the figure, his fish gutting knife held ready to impale the figure leapt through the window just in time, narrowly avoiding the now widowed man’s attack. He did, however, leave a strip of clothing that the man’s blade cut from him. A dark shark leather.

Taking this info to the ruler of the city, Lord Blake Trevally, he requested the party join him in private where he quietly reported that the attacks were happening up and down the coast. When the party recalled their encounter the night before he confirmed that similar skirmishes with the seafoll had occurred. He had recently requested a wizard of some renown research a way to take the offensive but he hadn’t heard from him in a lighthouse to the north.

If the party is willing, Lord Blake requests them to check on the wizard and perhaps be willing to look into the matter further upon their return.

That’s all we have for now, thanks for joining for the start of the week and the start of a new adventure. Come back tomorrow to look at a few NPCs and lets start this week off to a good start.

Don’t forget to let me know if you like the content, if there are things you want more of or things you hope for this week. And as always don’t forget to roll with advantage,

The Brazen Wolfe

Mer’s Travel Agency

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Well the weekend is here and with the slight hiccup in yesterdays writing plans, a general head cold (or reaction to the vaccine) I will make tonight’s writeup a bit easier for myself.

This week we looked at rolling the dice. Letting the bones decide our fate for this week and drawing upon (mostly) previously created content to explore the concept of modular adventures utilising a pool of content. Despite a lot of the content being thought of in previous weeks this week almost all of it was completely re-written to create something new but inspired by previous weeks.

So without further waffle let’s get into the writeup.

Apprenticeship Program

– 06MoWt/10MoWt –

As the party travels along the road moving from one city full of problems to a town with even more problems a sudden gust of wind pushes dust into their face, their horses stopping, pacing backwards nervously. After a few heartbeats, lightning splits the sky driving bolts of electricity into the earth just off the road ahead. The growing maelstrom forces their steeds to spook, sending them off the road and bolting away. The party, unable to hold reign in such panicked beasts, fall off and land hard on the ground just as the maelstrom reaches a crescendo where the very air shuddered with the force of an element of nature being born.

As the dust thrown up by the sudden phenomenon disappears the party are left staring at a building, not unlike many they have frequented before, a tavern now stood where the bolts of lightning had struck, any trees, bushes or things in general look to have been disintegrated without a trace remaining.

A moment later a small portly man walks through the front door ‘What in the nine hells is going on. This isn’t right’ the man noticing the party runs over to talk to them, he looks as uncomfortable with running as he is with the situation he finds himself in.

‘You, travellers, where are we? My name is Mer and I am the proud, well most of the time, owner of this tavern. We were not due to snap away from Lothgar for another week by my calculations and now I honestly don’t know where we are’

It takes a few moments of repeating answers to Mer before he seems to calm down. The party were travelling from Lothgar after having spent some time in Newtbranch and were on their way to Sparrows Rest as they had received a call to aid from the mayor of the town. Mer looked perplexed.

‘So you’re telling me that there isn’t a town, city or village, hell not even a shanty town for days in any direction?’ with that he turns back to the tavern. ‘What are you doing? We are not meant to be here, we still had customers, deliveries.. You could have ki… Wait’ Mer whirled back to the party ‘Was anyone or thing there, where the tavern is right now?’

The party confirmed that they hadn’t seen anyone or anything there. Mer was relieved – all he needed now was some family complaining that his magical teleporting tavern had squished someone.

‘Say, you lot look to be capable, are you able to help me with something. The Tavern has been doing some weird things of late some of the.. err.. Lenses have gone dark and I am due to be moving to one of them next. Would you mind coming and helping me work out what’s going on with my tavern and fix it if possible?

The party, after a few moments of discussion, eventually decide to help the poor short man and with that they follow him into the well lit, well furnished Tavern simply known as “Mer’s Wandering Tavern”

Entering the inn the group is assaulted by a wall of noise. Many patrons are drinking heavily around the tavern loudly voicing their concerns that they would not be able to go home.

“As you can tell the fact that we aren’t in Lothgar anymore has rattled the patrons. They are demanding their money back or free rooms, food and drinks. A free round of ale has calmed them down for a bit but for how long I don’t know.” Mer said, looking nervous as he clutched his coin pouch.

“Don’t worry, we have dealt with worse” Ray stated, clapping the human and dwarf to the side of him. “Zander here,” he nodded towards the half-elf, “skewered two corpse drakes with a single lightning bolt”. Zander just nodded in affirmation as he scanned the people in the room.

“Is there any one we could talk to to help bring us up to speed?” the sorcerer asked, running his eyes over potential suspects or threats. By his trained eyes and instincts any of them could be the culprit.

“Brinker. I’d start with Brinker. Through that door and down in the cellar” Mer called out as he walked towards a patron causing a scene.

Dusk strode towards the bar, some brief words were exchanged with some hand waving from Mer and a grinning dwarf strode back with two tankards of ale, one already half empty by the time he made it back to the party.

 “Well let’s go talk to Brinker I guess.” Mike said, unsure if Dusk had finished the first tankard or if he decided to just double fist the kegs. As they made it to the stairs down he knew the answer when Dusk placed the empty Tankards of ale on a nearby table.

– 10TuBiFu – 

Clank clank clank, the jarring noise of metal striking metal resonates from the darkness of the short corridor in front of them. ‘I’m surprised that this,’ Zander paused for a moment trying to remember the name of the innkeeper, and failing, ‘err.. Wandering Tavern has a cellar. It has arcane magic literally infused everywhere, have you noticed how the walls periodically pulse with a green glow? I think that’s the tavern itself drawing from the weave. It’s a wonder’.

‘Is that you Mer? I need more time, the resonance is playing up with my tools and I am not able to get a lock on where we are. I again suggest going outside and finding out instead of asking me. Now with all respect I can muster for you, pike off” A almost comical high pitched voice trilled from somewhere near the back of the wall.

Mike put his hand on the hilt, having had quite enough of mysterious people in basements, temples or dungeons he wanted to be prepared to draw his magical blade if the time called for it. Dusk on the other hand could not care less, he had already managed to talk a second free tankard of ale (good stuff by his standards) from Mer. Pushing forward from the rest of the party he wiped a bit of froth from his beard ‘Aye, who be you talking to matey, that’s no way to speak to the heroes of Sparrows Rest’

A moment later, muttering some expletives in gnomish a 3 foot tall bald gnome with a dishevelled grey beard stormed around the corner bumping into Ray who had taken up position next to Dusk. ‘I thought I told you to.. oh.. You’re not Mer..’ the gnome stutters slightly looking at the imposing figure of Ray, Dusk, Mike and Zander. ‘Sorry lords, sorry, I didn’t realise it was visitors. Tea! you must have some tea!’ the now flustered gnome stuttered out having realised that he had been cussing someone other than his impatient, lazy boss.

Being shown to a small table, and it would be small for a gnome let alone two humans, a half elf, and a dwarf. Several moments past as the gnome introduced himself. ‘ The names Brinker, Brinker Fuzzwallop – you can call me Brink if you’d like. I’ve been working here for Mer for a good three years yet and I am not any closer to understanding how this Tavern does what it does. Only that it appears to be sentient, knows what it wants and knows exactly what it is doing. It sounds crazy but my instruments,’ the gnome, currently fussing over a tea pot that would make barely enough for a few mouthfuls, points haphazardly over to his right, against the wall where two large gemstones glowed with green light and a bunch of arcane, or at least artificers tools littered the floor around it, ‘all tell me that it’s sentient.’

Zander, noticing the patterns on the panel where the gems are embedded noted that there appeared to be a recession where the veins of light stretched too but didn’t quite reach’

As the party are offered some tea with rather potent floral notes. Zander raises his finger and gestures to the dark spot ‘It looks like you’re missing a conduit’ he says as he swallows the contents of his entire tiny tea cup in a single gulp.

Brink turns around and follows Zander’s finger before hastily placing the other teacups in front of the others, almost flying to the panel ‘no, no, no… This isn’t right – there needs to be.. where is Timmy!’ With that Brink runs up the stairs ‘I must tell Mer that we have been robbed. Timmy is missing!

As Mike and Ray decide to sit and try and calm Binker, Dusk watches Zander scope out the ruins they are in. Dusk, letting out a loud sigh before heading to the stairs. He mentions to Zander as he leaves that he is going to find some food and more drink but barely a nod of recognition is Zanders reply

– 10TuMeWh // 03TuRLH/10TuRLH –

As Dusk snuck up from the cellar to grab himself another tankard of ale he went up to the same bar he got his first, and second tankard from. Sitting in between two patrons already he made himself comfortable on the stool and looked over at the people around him.

On his left sat a human girl with extraordinary white flowing hair, her skin was unsettlingly pale, at least to him, and she seemed to have quite a few tankards of ale in front of her, most of them untouched.

‘Hey you, half-man, that was my spot ay, you best be shoving off.’ Dusk turned around to look at a man who was remarkably handsome, except for the look in his eyes.

‘Be careful of this one Dusk, he has the scent of death upon him’ A cold woman’s voice, like the caw of a raven seemed to move down his spine like a cold shiver.

‘Laddie, I have travelled long and hard and just need a few moments to rest and have an ale. Why don’t you grab an ale and do the same eh?’ Dusk said, reaching for a ale in front of him, his trained nose instantly telling him it had been tampered with. The pale woman looked up at him alarmed and went to say something but a wink and sideways glance from Dusk silenced her.

‘Ere’s one, on me lad.’ he said as he passed the drink to the man and turned around.

‘I don’t want yer ale old man – I was busy being acquainted with the ladies here’ the mans voice snuck in like a serpent as Dusk felt the still cold ale poor down his neck.

The woman to his right, Dusk noting a red haired dwarf woman who had been silently staring at a tankard of ale until now, stood up ‘Now you can’t be doing that, I’m going to have to ask ye to leave now and take your friends’ she said, squeezing Dusks arm to warn him of the odds being stacked against the old dwarf in this instance.

Smoke rose from his breastplate, enchanted to tell him when there was malcontent directed towards him in the local vicinity. The room went quiet as the sound of four chairs could be heard as they scraped across the wooden floorboards.

Dusk laughed. ‘Now,’ his voice grumbled like granite tumbling down a cliff edge, ‘that’s no way to treat yer elders’ as Dusk slowly stood his hand gripped the haft of his axe, the metal on the broad head of the axe shifting, splitting apart as fame flickered to life within revealing a snarling demon that had been carved into the head of the battle axe, ‘My Lady bitch, I’ll be needing your help on this one’ he said turning around – his other hand gripping the emblem of the Raven queen.

As he turned, a bottle came crashing down, aimed for his head, it shattered above his head as golden raven feathers seemed to manifest above him, the remaining liquid within hissing as it evaporated on his divine shield. ‘You lads will wish you hadn’t been tinkering with dark magic now ay. You see’, crunch, Dusk stepped forward splintering a floor board as his divine presence flowed from his emblem causing a visible energy to spread across his frame, causing the axe’s flames to flicker with black magic (a parlour trick for those clerics who know how), ‘my lady told me you had the stench of rot upon ye soul. I can see it now’, he pointed with the axe the very movement of the blade through the air around him sounding like a raven cawing.

One of the ‘friends’ of the man lunged at him, out of bravery or fear only he knew, the blade he had drawn from his coat hitting the same golden barrier, the scrape of metal on magic sounding like a raven mockingly calling out as it sent another few golden feathers of energy floating to the ground. The man realising his folly shrieked and stumbled backwards, hitting a wall of muscle and metal. ‘You’re lucky that my friends are here or you would be meeting my lady soon’ Dusk stated as he placed the head of his axe on the ground, having slowly walked the men into the wall of muscle that Mike and Raynor bodies created.

‘Dusk, what’s going on here. These boys causing trouble?’ Ray said, rolling a shoulder as the five men turned to look up at the two paladins.

‘Aye, the middle one’, Dusk nodded towards the man who started it all, ‘been dabbling in necromancy or so my lady says. She never wrong in this regard, the bitch’ Dusk said, spitting at the floor beneath his feet.

Mike’s face turned into a snarl of rage. ‘You had to say the N word didn’t you..’ Ray said, sighing as a Mikes mailed fist connected with the mans forehead, the limp body tumbling to the ground.

‘Easy now boys, let me deal with it’ Zandar said, floating above the paladins, his hands extended as electricity pulsed between them. An bolt of lightning passed between his hands, arcing out and passing through the heads of the remaining four men. All of them convulsed for a moment before falling to the ground, unconscious or paralysed the party cared not. Landing on the ground Zander dusted his hands, realising that the ground he was on was in fact the first man that Mike took out.

Hopping down he went to stand next to Dusk as Raynor and Mike walked the men outside, rope coming out to bind the hands and arms of the men until they decided what to do with them.

‘We figured when the noise stopped you were causing trouble, not too far from being right were we Dusk hmm?’ Zander said, clasping the old dwarf on the shoulder – his divine magic seeping into the talisman he still clasped in his hand. After a few tense heart beats the occupants of the tavern released a collective breath they had been holding and conversation and song began again.

‘I guess I should be thankful sir Dusk’, a quiet, tentative voice sang from behind him, ‘ that man and his friends had been trying to ply me with drinks for the past few days. Mer didn’t want to do anything with them since they were paying customers and all’ the white haired woman said, having turned around. ‘I am Mel and this is Rose, we had come to Lothgar looking for help before the Tavern went crazy and we ended up here. We are originally from Sparrows Rest, Rose has lost her kid you see and…’

‘Enough Mel, let’s not burden the travellers, as capable as they are, with our little villages problems. Come sit, let us buy you a round’ Rose, the red haired dwarf spoke dragging over a few chairs. ‘Mer is an ol’ friend of mine – we were rivals for a bit there when his tavern accidently ended up in sparrows rest for a few weeks there. So what brings you to this cursed tavern?’

-05TuBaHe / 10TuBaHe-

As the dwarf, half-elf and two humans sat down Baxter kept his head down and moved the chicken around the white sauce and potatoes on his plate. He didn’t know what he had been thinking, being here was a bad idea, moving from Sebluff to Lothgar had also been a bad idea. He sighed, he barely had enough money for his room and the chicken in front of him. He needed to get back to Lothgar and pay his debts so he could his life anew.

Bax had never been good with staying clean and taking up this last job had really caused him to slip further. ‘One last job’, ‘quick in and out’, ‘don’t worry – you will be gone before they realise’. He scoffed loudly, Mr Pondt, the father of crime in Lothgar had been wrong. Oh god his side was so itchy, he scratched it as nonchalantly as he could but the clear crystal in his pocket was starting to send sparks of energy into his side, and his jacket occasionally sparked. It was getting out of hand but if he could get this stone back to Mr P. then he was good, his debts paid and then some.

Then he could stop once and for all and make something out of his life. Maybe then Sebluff would see him for what he truly is, how Sarah had seen him.

02WeTest1/10WeTest1

The cold ale was a mystery to her, how did the ale remain so cold when the tavern had permanent Infrastructure or visible cooling mechanism? Regardless, it wasn’t half bad ale, better that swill she was used to.

Looking up she noticed a rather odd dwarf have one such cold ale poured down his neck, what surprised her was the sheer magical force that seemed to radiate from the dwarf, centralised on his clenched fist that held a talisman or some kind. Or so her glass eye told him.
The three humans, no one was a half-elf, stood behind the men causing a scene and they had a similar aura about them. One of them reminded him of someone she met a long long time ago. She itched the scar around her left socket, a single blow took everything from her but also gave her so much, this was the result when mortals clashed with forged demigods.
Picking apart the selection of meats, vegetables and cheeses before her, she settled on a chunk of crumbly soft cheese, a portion of salted ham and a picked purple vegetable she hadn’t had before.
‘the elves can it dragon root, it’s really some kind of soft sweet tuber’ a friendly voice said to her left, glancing that way she noticed a reasonably plain man with large tan overalls.
‘the names Willid, friends call me Will’


She extended her hand and clasped the human’s hand tightly, still getting used to this form of strength ‘Chad, Chad Fyresteel. Smith by trade. Pleased to meet you Will’ she said, her voice sounding exactly like the Smith she shadowed briefly in Lothgar.

‘what do you make of them huh? That Dwarf looks to be quite the fighter, look at that Axe.’ Willid mentioned, inviting himself over to her table.
Recognition.
She looked more closely at the party of adventurers, she had met them before in the temple of Malar so long ago, well it was mere months, but that feels like a long time for someone in her business.
When they didn’t seek her out in the walled city she assumed they hadn’t made it out, especially considering that he was there too.
‘The two paladins are also lethal in their own right, the half-elf also had some tricks he is yet to reveal’ she mused, Willid looked perplexed for a moment.
Pointing to the adventures, she quickly tried to regain the persona of Chad. ‘the swords look enchanted and the half-elf looks to be capable of magic’ to punctuate her hypothesis the half-elf pulsed electricity through the temples of the four men.

Willid drank deep from his tankard before standing up. ‘Well, didn’t expect that. But you can’t really expect anything in this tavern anyway. See you around Chad’ he mumbled as he walked to the bar.

She didn’t give recognition to the men walking off as her glass eye detected another source of magic. A crystal the size of a chunk of cheese was in the pocket of a young man across the room, and it looked like it was pulsing in the same manner as the room was.
Interesting, Baxter had actually gone through with it. Now, with these adventurers and a room full of people in the middle of nowhere how was he going to get out to hand it over.
Stretching in her chair she felt her skin shift slightly, an involuntary shift that occasionally happened when her concentration waned, glancing around she made sure no one saw her guise shift before eating the food in front of her. It was going to be an interesting task for the young thief but if he could pull it off she may have found herself an apprentice.

A day passed as the group slowly questioned the patrons, the fact that most of them were drunk didn’t help the situation and as sat down in front of a new patron they could already tell that they were not the thief who stole the crystal that Brink called Timmy…

After resting the night at the inn they came down stairs to sit in front of the man that they called Chad.

“So, what brought you here?” Ray said, watching the old man pick at some food on his plate before swigging down a glass of water. Odd he thought, the other patrons were normally hitting the ale already.

“Came ‘ere looking for a cold drink and wound up staying longer than we planned” the person disguised as char replied. Mike sat down next to Ray whilst Zander and Dusk spoke to a few people at the Bar. “What about you lads? Been seeing you talking to the other patrons as well. You guys starting a band or somethin?” not-Chat said, stuttering on the last word as Mike lay his enchanted great sword against the tavern table.

“Something like that. Our band needs some financing you see, and we have a buyer for a large crystal about so big” Mike said, showing a drawing, a sketch really, that was provided by Brinker. Mike swore he saw it, a twitch, a shift in the eyes of the smith. Something familiar about those eyes. As Mike leant to Ray the doors burst open.

08ThMa3/10ThMa3

The doors to the tavern swung open, letting through a breeze into the tavern that had begun to feel more like a cell rather than a place normally associated merriment.

It had been but a day after the Tavern had shifted unexpectedly, the food was beginning to run into smaller supply with no one but the party being willing to venture out side for fear of the tavern deciding to shift again and leaving the patrons stranded.

“what luck!, a Tavern in the middle of no where!” one of newcomers bellowed to two other humans behind him as he stepped through the threshold. “It will be good so rest our steeds and our weary bodies after such long ride here” he laughed, clapping a man and a woman as they both walked through the door.

The newcomers instantly gave a freshness to the tavern, people strode up to greet the newcomers who were equipped as only adventurers could be.

“But Drood, there wasn’t a tavern here before, the maps don’t show anything for a few days in any direction” the woman said, moving a strand of amber coloured hair behind her slightly pointed ears as she adjusted her pack, a large necked lute sticking over one shoulder.

“Nonsense Filli, Taverns don’t just spring out of the ground. Your maps just must be out of date.” Drood said with mirth, his eyes drifting towards the tankards of ale. Despite looking like a man who prefers the company of animals over humans one could recognise hunger in his eyes when looking at the unspoken promise of cold drink and good food.

“No, Filli is right. This Tavern has only just appeared here,” a man, rather unremarkable except for his sleeveless robe that connected to a hood that seemed to wrap around his shoulders and extend down. His forearms and hands showing arcane etchings, marks and runes marked him of someone who studied arcane. His eyes moved calculating over the room with a gaze that seemed to stare through people rather than upon them. “You, Sorcerer”, the hooded man pointed towards Zandar, “this tavern, surely you can tell it is not bound to the material plane. What brings you and your, ‘his eyes drifted briefly over the companions of Zandar, a smile crossing his face, “Ah, you made it off that mountain it seems.”

Slowly a man in the corner of the room stood and tried his best to nonchalantly move to the front of the tavern.

“Good to see you again my Lady Firehair. The guises you take always confuse me since your normal form is such a marvel” the hooded stranger whispered in the ear of the man having travelled across the room in an eye beat thanks to his mastery over magic. “I suppose it would be your doing that this tavern is unbound. Never matter, I am here to rest. My compatriots and I have come from the Black Iron Isles and we would rather rest than clean up someone else’s mess.”

Whilst the room was focused on the exchange between the new man and the the smith they knew as Chad Baxter saw his chance and moved towards the front door, using what he had learnt on the streets in his youth he made it to the front of the tavern and slipped out the door with nearly no one noticing.

“Woah, hold on there boy.” a voice like scales scraping on a rock came from behind him as he checked one last time in the tavern.

Turning around, trying not to arouse suspicion he was greeted with the blue scales of a dragonborn standing just off from the doorway holding the reigns of four horses.

“You, I can’t find where to stable the horses. Take care of it for me will you stableboy?” He dragonborn said as he walked forward and handed the reigns to Baxter.

Nodding and bowing his head he walked around the side of the Tavern. He had never had it so easy before, glancing around to make sure that there was no one watching him he tied up three horses and started to size up the fourth for himself.

“Hey boy, now Red told me that he gave our horses to a stableboy but. I think you aint’ him huh?” the man that the other newcomers referred to as Drood questioned, leaning against the wall of the tavern “why don’t you step away from the horses and come in side for a drink. Be thankful I came out and not Magnus, that man isn’t as understanding as me” Drood said, standing up and stepping forward towards Baxter.

Baxter couldn’t give up now. He had to get the Crystal to Mr P. or his future would never truly begin. Hoisting himself up on the horse as fast as he could he whirled the beast around in the same motion, preparing to spur it on to escape as quickly as possible.

“That won’t do. Get down boy!” Drood yelled, grabbing at the boy and grasping onto the crystal through Baxter’s shirt. Green arcs of lightning shot out causing the older man of the wilds to convulse and fall backwards. Looking down at the man Baxter could tell that he was living. His breath was rapid but looked steady enough, his mouth opened slightly as if mouthing words but nothing would come out.

“Sorry mister, I am not going back to the streets or worse. If I can I shall bring back your mare, if I can find you that is!” Baxter spoke, leaning down the side of the mare as he made it trot past him.

Drood could only watch as the mare and the boy disappeared away from the road. He could feel the magic, what ever it was, pulsing through his body interrupting his own connection to the weave and to nature. Until the energy dissipated he was stuck here.

A hour or so passed and the energy had not let up, it seemed to pulse and glow like a heart beat and it was showing no signs of wavering.

“What are you doing Drood?” A cool voice like a refreshing ale spoke from five paces away. Unable to talk he mustered enough strength to turn his head. Magnus stood there, cleaning something under his nail with a short sharp knife. After a moment of Drood being unable to talk Magnus sighed and approached Drood, placing his hand over his chest the green energy sparked into him before being re-directed at the wall of the inn. through Magnus’s other outstretched hand.

“Magnus! The boy, he took Yendavire. When I grabbed him and tried to get him off the horse he used some magic and struck me with green lightning. I have been paralysed on the ground since.”

“Interesting, it was the same resonance of what powers and flows through the tavern. Come in Drood and speak to my new acquaintances.”

As Magnus and Drood entered the tavern they saw Ray and Mike looking around where Magnus had left the man who he referred to as Lady Firehair – who had disappeared, a well practiced talent.

“Ray, Mike. My friend Drood her was saying he was just knocked out by some boy who blasted a greenish magic from his pocket over him. The magic felt like it was the same as what powers this tavern so I would believe that he is the one you are looking for.” Magnus declared, the tendrils of magic he employed like an extension of his will retreating from the thoughts of the two Paladins in front of him. “Sadly, he has taken Dasher, she is faster than a normal horse but easy enough to track. If you leave now you may be able to catch up with him if he rests for the night.”

“How do you know we were looking for someone…” Mike began before Ray cut him off.

“Never mind. Will you lend us your horses, ours got spooked by the appearance of this tavern and have not returned.” Ray asked as Dusk and Zander approached. “You have my oath that we will…” he began before the man called Drood interrupted.

“No, you can not have our horses. What madman would give horses to a group of strangers they have just met after they had just one of theirs stolen?” Drood blasted, his face flushing with evident anger.

“Nonsense – I have met them before, except the sorcerer of course, They are no stranger to me so they can take them just be sure to bring them back tomorrow or the day after. That should have given my comrades and I enough time to rest.

Flustered Drood went to object before he just sighed, nodded and walked to a booth in the corner of the room – snatching a bottle of amber spirits on his way to the seats.

10FrFN

Baxter slumped down against the mud wall of the alcove he had found by following a dried riverbed utterly exhausted, the fire he had lit crackled as it consumed the kindling and began to take hold of the bigger pieces of wood that had been placed within its reach. Cuts and scrapes adorned his arms, his reward for an exhausting hour of digging in the dried riverbed for some water for the surprisingly swift horse he had stolen. The horse was currently grazing a few dozen paces away or so as the sun slowly crept towards the horizon ending a day of riding along flat dry planes of grass that held little sustenance. Those adventurers that came with the horses were a scary lot, something about them set him off ease. He had seen adventurers before, some in Sebluff, The others in the tavern seemed familiar but in the sense of how all people who choose that life seem to have the same characteristics and same sad story of why they became an adventurer in the first place.

He had escaped though, gotten away from it and on the morning he would head towards Lothgar, having found a map in the saddlebags of the stolen mare he was confident he would be able to make it back to the bustling city, hand over the cursed crystal and be on his way to a better life. Then they’ll see, all those doubters, everyone who had thought of him as nothing but trash or a waste of time and space.

His eyelids began to flutter, the shade growing a bit more as the sun set and the flames flickered higher, biting into the dry wood. He would show them all.

A whinny of a horse woke him, his dreams erratic and jolting as had been the norm since he had taken that crystal whilst the little man slept. Looking about the horse was standing not far from him and the fire, appearing to be sleeping or at least resting. He smiled, he had always been fond of horses, they reminded him of Sarah back in Sebluff. Standing up and stretching he put a bit more wood on the fire as it had crept down to being embers now, noting that he was almost out of wood he grabbed a strip of cloth and doused it in some hard liquor he had found, also in the saddlebags of the mare nestled amongst some incredibly bad poetry that he used as kindling for the fire, and made himself a torch, of sorts at least.

Walking around the outskirts of the little camp he had setup he began the search for more wood, and potential something to eat. He believed he had seen several large furry cactuses when he first approached this little alcove, the creek bed bit deep here, and had once obviously been a lot larger as it had carved out the alcove he had set up his camp in.

Finding some wood he brought it back to the fire and stacked it higher, sending sparks high into the night sky. With no cloud cover and just the light from the moons above and his makeshift torch he walked towards the direction of where he saw the cactuses before – not noticing that the animal life that were loud a few moments ago were now silent.

Approaching one of the large cactuses he saw he walked around the child-sized plant looking for any fruit. Unable to find any he brought out a knife from his belt and stabbed deep into the plant.

Immediately he was thrown backwards as the cactus he stabbed lashed outwards just as his knife pierced the skin of the desert plant. Eight large branches from the cactus thrashed outwards as the plant started to unfold, the large bulbous abdomen connected to the now apparent eight limbs as a large desert spider skittered away from the light and the source of its pain, letting out a high pitched trill the spider skittered around, shielding its glittering eyes as it crashed into several more of the same bulbous not-quite-cacti which triggered a chain reaction of spiders awakened and began to skitter at the edge of the light.

Running back to the camp as quickly as he could he didn’t dare look back to see the eleven spiders thundering after him, only pushed backwards briefly by the light of the torch. As he neared the campfire the addition of extra dry wood had caused it to grow in and it shed a bright light for quite some distance.

The spiders skittered at the edge of the light, occasionally daring to edge forward towards the campfire before skittering back when a flaming chunk of wood was waved at them enthusiastically by their potential prey.

In the distance, doubled lidded eyelids blinked as the hunters eyed their prey with great interested. It wasn’t often that their quarry would be so blatant in revealing their presence. It would be a good hunt tonight, looking towards the other members of his hunting pack he snarled as they slunk forward on padded toes.

As Ray, Mike, Dusk and Zander approached the campfire after following the tracks of the mare to and along a dry river bed they noticed a flurry of movement around the light.

Spiders, giant spiders by the look of it and around a dozen of the skittering backwards and forth as if testing the resolve of the flames in the fire itself. Spurring the horses on faster they approached the first of the spiders at charging speed – a swing of the sword called Sky Chariot split two spiders in half before a blast of magic sent another one twitching into the dirt as electricity burnt the hairs on its legs.

Ray and Dusk jumped down next to the frightened boy, wielding a flaming branch like a club despite having a deep bite in his calf. Dark purple lines pulsed from the bite mark heading up his leg. Dusk stamped his foot in the ground calling upon the spiritual weapon of his patron – A large spectral raven manifesting behind him, dark chains binding it to the ground as its beak opened wide to make way for a axe head. The weapon lashed down, cutting several legs off a spider before rearing back up preparing to strike again. Ray placed one hand on the boy, a glow coursing from his hand over the wound – the poison just taking his toll as he lost consciousness.

“I hate spiders” Muttered mike as he cut another one in half joining the other two party members by the fire, holding the reigns of two horses.

“Wheres Zandar – we could use his ma..” Ray began before a gust of wind told him that Zander had floated above the ground using one of his spells.

“The way they move makes it hard to get them in a line, but I can try this..” He said as he chanted a quick incantation, the hairs on everyone’s arms standing on end before a large fork of lightning split across the ground from the sorcerers hands – piercing and frying several spiders at once.

The spiders, those who had survived the party, scurried off into the brush.

Tying up Baxter they put him on a horse in front of Ray and left the fire light. It was a long journey ahead of them and they didn’t fancy being woken up to the sounds of skittering feet for a very long time…

Well there we have the writeup for this weeks adventures. Some bits were added to try and knit the different pieces together and it turned out to be quite a large week content wise. Turning it from a series of descriptive short (Very short) stories into a larger one was a bit of fun and seeing how they all blended together made me feel confident that a modular adventure approach was feasible for the future.

So if you liked this weeks content feel free to let me know and also let me know if you think I should have these random adventures (from previously generated comments) frequently – I was anticipating one every 10 or so weeks but will see how it goes as I believe this was a success.

Don’t forget to have fun with your writing, adventuring or role playing and as always don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Farwell.

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A little something different. Sad tidings this Saturday so an ode to Mara.

She stalked the pathways and alleys, her feet barely making a sound, apart from the occasional clack of her claws on the stone underfoot.
She carried herself as she always had, with grace and regal bearing. She stood tall despite her age as she checked in upon her surroundings.

As she padded through her domain, her sister joined her. Her sister had grown calmer now that she had reached a sensible age; she slinked alongside her.
“Doing your rounds sister?” The younger grey guardian practically purred out the words

“As I have done long before your time sister”, taking a moment to give her legs a rest, the much older guardian, now with more white than her original colour hair, replied.

“We still need to check in on the servants and ensure everything is alright,” she stated, forcing her legs up, again “for old times sake.”

Her sister rolled her almond eyes, “do as you wish, I’m going to be adored and worshiped. See you when you’re done with your futile rounds!” Her sister called as she strutted off down the pathway.

Smiling, the old guardian slowly glided towards the first of her servants.

Servants, huh. But to her they were not just servants, they may serve her, obey her wishes but they had grown to be more than that. Maybe it was just her old age causing sentiment but she felt an obligation to these beings.

She retraced the steps that she had walked for years. The soft stone feeling cool against the pads on her bare feet.
Walking past the gathering place she found herself on the precipice of the girls room.
The door lay slightly ajar, a warm glow coming from the lightsource that the girl kept on overnight, sending a shaft of light that caused her to blink slightly.

Her mind wandered back; a strange keening cry could be heard from the room across from her most trusted servants.
As she watched the humans move to and from the room she found that she was alone as she stepped through the doorway. Her sister wanted nothing to do with the newcomer, but for her the newcomer held promise. The old guardian always had a unquenchable curiosity, a need to know and explore the things in her world.
Approaching the source of the noise she could almost scent the unease in the room.
A baby, a small human child lay bundled in cloth in a tiny bed. It’s cries spoke of discomfort, hunger and desire. Desire for comfort, a relatable desire to her regardless. Edging as close to the cot as she could, the old guardian peered down at the figure.
A girl, tiny and sweet. Little hands reached out but before the guardian could react the parents of the child scooped it up and took it away.
This began her watch, she had found something, someone to watch out for.

Blinking once more and returning her mind to the present she walked through the doorway. The infant has gone, replaced by a much larger girl, full of wonder, zest for life and adoration. The guardian liked this servant the most.
Moving quietly up to the human she leant across and gave the forehead of the girl a kiss. After checking the room for any dangers she left after she was satisfied that the child was safe.

Moving down the same pathway her sister took, she entered the room of the next of her subjects.The youngest of her subjects – a human boy approaching his third winter – was rambunctious, curious and determined. She smiled, her greying whiskers curling as they mirrored the mirth underneath.
Had he not been born to Humans he would have made a fine one of her kind. He carried himself much like she did, proud and determined. Determined to achieve an outcome of great value or just to torment those around him. Either way a shallow rumbling laugh purred in her chest before it caught, causing a brief coughing fit.

Catching her breath she approached the cot he resided in, she stood tall, checking that he was safe and content. Pausing only for a moment as he snored. She was content all was well; she gave the boy’s forehead a short kiss as she had with his sister before him.
Leaving the room she slowly crept up to the room of her true servants. Calling out to them as she approached, she noted that they had a look of worry and sadness crossed their faces as they were discussing something. Pausing their discussion they lifted her up to her throne where she perched.

As they fussed over her she called out to her sister, a sound of content escaping her lips in the form of a great and long purr.

“You should walk with me sister,” the old guardian said, stepping down from her throne – it was better to keep the servants believing she was fickle, “we have something to discuss”
Her sister joining her, she walked the path she had just traveled.

Pausing outside where the boy lived. “This little one has so much promise to serve and give love. You must nurture this. Teach him to be kind and gentle much like his mother. Show him how to be calculating and surefooted like his father. I entrust you to do this” she said, leaning against her sister, a look of worry on the young guardian’s face.

As they approached the girl’s residence she paused to catch her breath.
“This one, she is special. I have not met a human so cautious, caring and special as she. Look out for her as she has such potential for seeing the good in everything, but this creates room for self directed darkness. Make sure you watch out for her and keep that inner dark away. This you must not fail me in.” She declared as her legs buckled, causing her to lay on the stone beneath.
She looked up at the younger guardian as her exhaustion took over.

She watched as the younger guardian sprang off down the path, calling for the servants with her concern evident.

A few moments later they appeared, the mother of the young humans, with whom the old guardian had formed a bond with finding comfort and safety next to or in the arms of the beautiful human. She would miss her and her endless capacity for compassion.

Soft and warm hands patted her, belonging to the woman’s husband as he crouched beside the old guardian. He was the one who has served her since she was an infant.

Though she had gotten old, white and had weakened, he had remained young, although flecks of grey studded his hair now, but his eyes still remained the same. His soft words and warm embrace reminded her of her youth, of their journey together and this caused a rumbling purr to spread through her frail form.
Sadly this was the deal for having lifelong servants, you watched them grow and have offspring, but, you could not stay with them forever. You must be the one to leave them first, your quest to watch over them ending as you take your place with the guardians of old.

As her concentration faded, his arms cradled her, when had she grown so weak?

As her purrs lessened, her eyes closing, his hands never stopped calming her in only the way that family could.

Looking down upon her family, her sister guardian nearby, the two humans she had known most of her life stood near her. Her frail body was cradled in the arms of the one who rescued her from the shelter a lifetime ago. Turning her head she drifted through the rooms in the house.
The youngest boy of the family was asleep, for now but not for long. Boundless energy and passion for life were his trademark in the short two winters they had spent together.
The daughter, caring and kind, willing to share her pillow and bed for the old cat these past few weeks as her body shut down.
She would not forget her humans, and the humans would not forget her.

Closing her eyes for the last time she let endless sleep embrace her, a purr in her chest and the guardians of old calling her home.
“Welcome home Mara”.


Around the campfire…

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Fight night is here and we have the return of a previous encounter (favourite of mine, not of my players) and a new one that we haven’t seen before (or probably anyone for that matter).

With the final addition to this week’s adventure tonight, this weekend is shaping up to have another great adventure for our players to play. So sit-down, relax, have a coffee or another type of brew and enjoy.

As always my tools of choice this week are Kobold Fight Club and the awesome Tetra-cube. Please go check them out to make your gaming sessions that bit easier to balance and run!

Oh and in case you are wondering I am not sponsored by the products/tools I use – I just want to share the tools I find work well for me as a GM/DM and spread the good word of products I enjoy.

Moths to a flame.

10FrFN

Baxter slumped down against the mud wall of the alcove he had found by following a dried riverbed utterly exhausted, the fire he had lit crackled as it consumed the kindling and began to take hold of the bigger pieces of wood that had been placed within its reach. Cuts and scrapes adorned his arms, his reward for an exhausting hour of digging in the dried riverbed for some water for the surprisingly swift horse he had stolen. The horse was currently grazing a few dozen paces away or so as the sun slowly crept towards the horizon ending a day of riding along flat dry planes of grass that held little sustenance. Those adventurers that came with the horses were a scary lot, something about them set him off ease. He had seen adventurers before, some in Sebluff, The others in the tavern seemed familiar but in the sense of how all people who choose that life seem to have the same characteristics and same sad story of why they became an adventurer in the first place.

He had escaped though, gotten away from it and on the morning he would head towards Lothgar, having found a map in the saddlebags of the stolen mare he was confident he would be able to make it back to the bustling city, hand over the cursed crystal and be on his way to a better life. Then they’ll see, all those doubters, everyone who had thought of him as nothing but trash or a waste of time and space.

His eyelids began to flutter, the shade growing a bit more as the sun set and the flames flickered higher, biting into the dry wood. He would show them all.

A whinny of a horse woke him, his dreams erratic and jolting as had been the norm since he had taken that crystal whilst the little man slept. Looking about the horse was standing not far from him and the fire, appearing to be sleeping or at least resting. He smiled, he had always been fond of horses, they reminded him of Sarah back in Sebluff. Standing up and stretching he put a bit more wood on the fire as it had crept down to being embers now, noting that he was almost out of wood he grabbed a strip of cloth and doused it in some hard liquor he had found, also in the saddlebags of the mare nestled amongst some incredibly bad poetry that he used as kindling for the fire, and made himself a torch, of sorts at least.

Walking around the outskirts of the little camp he had setup he began the search for more wood, and potential something to eat. He believed he had seen several large furry cactuses when he first approached this little alcove, the creek bed bit deep here, and had once obviously been a lot larger as it had carved out the alcove he had set up his camp in.

Finding some wood he brought it back to the fire and stacked it higher, sending sparks high into the night sky. With no cloud cover and just the light from the moons above and his makeshift torch he walked towards the direction of where he saw the cactuses before – not noticing that the animal life that were loud a few moments ago were now silent.

Approaching one of the large cactuses he saw he walked around the child-sized plant looking for any fruit. Unable to find any he brought out a knife from his belt and stabbed deep into the plant.

Immediately he was thrown backwards as the cactus he stabbed lashed outwards just as his knife pierced the skin of the desert plant. Eight large branches from the cactus thrashed outwards as the plant started to unfold, the large bulbous abdomen connected to the now apparent eight limbs as a large desert spider skittered away from the light and the source of its pain, letting out a high pitched trill the spider skittered around, shielding its glittering eyes as it crashed into several more of the same bulbous not-quite-cacti which triggered a chain reaction of spiders awakened and began to skitter at the edge of the light.

Running back to the camp as quickly as he could he didn’t dare look back to see the eleven spiders thundering after him, only pushed backwards briefly by the light of the torch. As he neared the campfire the addition of extra dry wood had caused it to grow in and it shed a bright light for quite some distance.

The spiders skittered at the edge of the light, occasionally daring to edge forward towards the campfire before skittering back when a flaming chunk of wood was waved at them enthusiastically by their potential prey.

In the distance, doubled lidded eyelids blinked as the hunters eyed their prey with great interested. It wasn’t often that their quarry would be so blatant in revealing their presence. It would be a good hunt tonight, looking towards the other members of his hunting pack he snarled as they slunk forward on padded toes.

It would be shortly after this point that the party would notice the light and go to find it. Finding one of two options

  1. 11 (1d4 of them wounded having suffered 2 damage from Baxter) wolf spiders, rushing in and out of the light from the campfire.
  2. 7 lizardmen (2 would be hiding in ambush for the part, 2 would be cleaning up their kill of the wolf spiders and 3 would have cornered Baxter threatening him with spear or bow).

The fight or diplomacy encounter would occur around the embers, perhaps the lizardmen consider this part of the creek bed a sacred spot and will be happy with Baxter to just leave, or maybe they like the taste of humanoids.

Well that’s it for Friday night, another short night with a versatile leadup to combat that could be provided to the party to set the scene or simply there to stir that creative spark in the DMs mind to set the scene and tell the players what they want them to see.

As always don’t forget to let me know if you use these adventures in your own campaigns, they are designed to be simple, short but engaging and versatile so that they could be tweaked to fit into any scenario or setting.

Don’t forget to join me for this weekend for a weekend musing and a writeup of this weeks adventure, and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

The great escape…

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Thursday is here and that would normally see me drawing, digitally creating or finding premade art or maps that I can use in the week’s adventure.
This week I am leaving it to chance and letting chance decide which previous week’s content to use and incorporating it into this week’s adventure writeup.


Today we rolled 8-3 which is the dried creek bed from two weeks back. Fate seemed to like me today as maps are generally very adventure specific but in the case of this map it has potential to be versatile. Let’s look at a way we can find ourselves looking at the dried cracked creek bed. So without any further waffle let’s get on with it.

A thirst that the land can’t quench

08ThMa3/10ThMa3

Credits to image go to g0dxmode which you can find some of their content here on redit

The doors to the tavern swung open, letting through a breeze into the tavern that had begun to feel more like a cell rather than a place normally associated merriment.

It had been but a day after the Tavern had shifted unexpectedly, the food was beginning to run into smaller supply with no one but the party being willing to venture out side for fear of the tavern deciding to shift again and leaving the patrons stranded.

“what luck!, a Tavern in the middle of no where!” one of newcomers bellowed to two other humans behind him as he stepped through the threshold. “It will be good so rest our steeds and our weary bodies after such long ride here” he laughed, clapping a man and a woman as they both walked through the door.

The newcomers instantly gave a freshness to the tavern, people strode up to greet the newcomers who were equipped as only adventurers could be.

“But Drood, there wasn’t a tavern here before, the maps don’t show anything for a few days in any direction” the woman said, moving a strand of amber coloured hair behind her slightly pointed ears as she adjusted her pack, a large necked lute sticking over one shoulder.

“Nonsense Filli, Taverns don’t just spring out of the ground. Your maps just must be out of date.” Drood said with mirth, his eyes drifting towards the tankards of ale. Despite looking like a man who prefers the company of animals over humans one could recognise hunger in his eyes when looking at the unspoken promise of cold drink and good food.

“No, Filli is right. This Tavern has only just appeared here,” a man, rather unremarkable except for his sleeveless robe that connected to a hood that seemed to wrap around his shoulders and extend down. His forearms and hands showing arcane etchings, marks and runes marked him of someone who studied arcane. His eyes moved calculating over the room with a gaze that seemed to stare through people rather than upon them. “You, Sorcerer”, the hooded man pointed towards Zandar, “this tavern, surely you can tell it is not bound to the material plane. What brings you and your, ‘his eyes drifted briefly over the companions of Zandar, a smile crossing his face, “Ah, you made it off that mountain it seems.”

Slowly a man in the corner of the room stood and tried his best to nonchalantly move to the front of the tavern.

“Good to see you again my Lady Firehair. The guises you take always confuse me since your normal form is such a marvel” the hooded stranger whispered in the ear of the man having travelled across the room in an eye beat thanks to his mastery over magic. “I suppose it would be your doing that this tavern is unbound. Never matter, I am here to rest. My compatriots and I have come from the Black Iron Isles and we would rather rest than clean up someone else’s mess.”

Whilst the room was focused on the exchange between the new man and the the smith they knew as Chad Baxter saw his chance and moved towards the front door, using what he had learnt on the streets in his youth he made it to the front of the tavern and slipped out the door with nearly no one noticing.

“Woah, hold on there boy.” a voice like scales scraping on a rock came from behind him as he checked one last time in the tavern.

Turning around, trying not to arouse suspicion he was greeted with the blue scales of a dragonborn standing just off from the doorway holding the reigns of four horses.

“You, I can’t find where to stable the horses. Take care of it for me will you stableboy?” He dragonborn said as he walked forward and handed the reigns to Baxter.

Nodding and bowing his head he walked around the side of the Tavern. He had never had it so easy before, glancing around to make sure that there was no one watching him he tied up three horses and started to size up the fourth for himself.

“Hey boy, now Red told me that he gave our horses to a stableboy but. I think you aint’ him huh?” the man that the other newcomers referred to as Drood questioned, leaning against the wall of the tavern “why don’t you step away from the horses and come in side for a drink. Be thankful I came out and not Magnus, that man isn’t as understanding as me” Drood said, standing up and stepping forward towards Baxter.

Baxter couldn’t give up now. He had to get the Crystal to Mr P. or his future would never truly begin. Hoisting himself up on the horse as fast as he could he whirled the beast around in the same motion, preparing to spur it on to escape as quickly as possible.

“That won’t do. Get down boy!” Drood yelled, grabbing at the boy and grasping onto the crystal through Baxter’s shirt. Green arcs of lightning shot out causing the older man of the wilds to convulse and fall backwards. Looking down at the man Baxter could tell that he was living. His breath was rapid but looked steady enough, his mouth opened slightly as if mouthing words but nothing would come out.

“Sorry mister, I am not going back to the streets or worse. If I can I shall bring back your mare, if I can find you that is!” Baxter spoke, leaning down the side of the mare as he made it trot past him.

Drood could only watch as the mare and the boy disappeared away from the road. He could feel the magic, what ever it was, pulsing through his body interrupting his own connection to the weave and to nature. Until the energy dissipated he was stuck here.

A hour or so passed and the energy had not let up, it seemed to pulse and glow like a heart beat and it was showing no signs of wavering.

“What are you doing Drood?” A cool voice like a refreshing ale spoke from five paces away. Unable to talk he mustered enough strength to turn his head. Magnus stood there, cleaning something under his nail with a short sharp knife. After a moment of Drood being unable to talk Magnus sighed and approached Drood, placing his hand over his chest the green energy sparked into him before being re-directed at the wall of the inn. through Magnus’s other outstretched hand.

“Magnus! The boy, he took Yendavire. When I grabbed him and tried to get him off the horse he used some magic and struck me with green lightning. I have been paralysed on the ground since.”

“Interesting, it was the same resonance of what powers and flows through the tavern. Come in Drood and speak to my new acquaintances.”

With the escape of Baxter and the information from Drood and Magnus the party should be able to track the crystal and find Baxter camping in an alcove in a dried river bed.

Well that’s it for today. The other way that we could incorporate the map, or any random encounters we generated tomorrow (Friday being fight night) would be utilising the nature of the tavern – since it is unstable and teleports through the material plane by nature it wouldn’t be unfathomable for it to appear randomly in a desert, forest, in a hostile city or anywhere in between. Having versatile locations, NPCs, Twists and maps can make the concept of a modular adventure toolkit.

Don’t forget the deal this week is that if there is something that is someone’s particular favourite I will incorporate it into this weeks adventure – or continue to let my wife, 6 year old daughter and 2 year old son roll dice across the table to randomly select which adventure we are working with today.

Also don’t forget to come back tomorrow and this weekend for the final pieces to see if this concept of min actually plays out and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

A stranger in the tavern…

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Wednesday is here and we have a twist to write up. Tonight my wife rolled up the second twist from week 2 which is looking at another party testing the party to see if they are fit for the job.

Applying this twist was easier than anticipated, I guess luck was on my side this week. But as with yesterday if there is a particular twist that you want to see in this weeks mix-up I will add it in later. So with that in mind let’s get into it.

Final exam

02WeTest1/10WeTest1

The cold ale was a mystery to her, how did the ale remain so cold when the tavern had permanent Infrastructure or visible cooling mechanism? Regardless, it wasn’t half bad ale, better that swill she was used to.

Looking up she noticed a rather odd dwarf have one such cold ale poured down his neck, what surprised her was the sheer magical force that seemed to radiate from the dwarf, centralised on his clenched fist that held a talisman or some kind. Or so her glass eye told him.
The three humans, no one was a half-elf, stood behind the men causing a scene and they had a similar aura about them. One of them reminded him of someone she met a long long time ago. She itched the scar around her left socket, a single blow took everything from her but also gave her so much, this was the result when mortals clashed with forged demigods.
Picking apart the selection of meats, vegetables and cheeses before her, she settled on a chunk of crumbly soft cheese, a portion of salted ham and a picked purple vegetable she hadn’t had before.
‘the elves can it dragon root, it’s really some kind of soft sweet tuber’ a friendly voice said to her left, glancing that way she noticed a reasonably plain man with large tan overalls.
‘the names Willid, friends call me Will’
She extended her hand and clasped the human’s hand tightly, still getting used to this form of strength ‘Chad, Chad Fyresteel. Smith by trade. Pleased to meet you Will’ she said, her voice sounding exactly like the Smith she shadowed briefly in Lothgar.

‘what do you make of them huh? That Dwarf looks to be quite the fighter, look at that Axe.’ Willid mentioned, inviting himself over to her table.
Recognition.
She looked more closely at the party of adventurers, she had met them before in the temple of Malar so long ago, well it was mere months, but that feels like a long time for someone in her business.
When they didn’t seek her out in the walled city she assumed they hadn’t made it out, especially considering that he was there too.
‘The two paladins are also lethal in their own right, the half-elf also had some tricks he is yet to reveal’ she mused, Willid looked perplexed for a moment.
Pointing to the adventures, she quickly tried to regain the persona of Chad. ‘the swords look enchanted and the half-elf looks to be capable of magic’ to punctuate her hypothesis the half-elf pulsed electricity through the temples of the four men.

Willid drank deep from his tankard before standing up. ‘Well, didn’t expect that. But you can’t really expect anything in this tavern anyway. See you around Chad’ he mumbled as he walked to the bar.

She didn’t give recognition to the men walking off as her glass eye detected another source of magic. A crystal the size of a chunk of cheese was in the pocket of a young man across the room, and it looked like it was pulsing in the same manner as the room was.
Interesting, Baxter had actually gone through with it. Now, with these adventurers and a room full of people in the middle of nowhere how was he going to get out to hand it over.
Stretching in her chair she felt her skin shift slightly, an involuntary shift that occasionally happened when her concentration waned, glancing around she made sure no one saw her guise shift before eating the food in front of her. It was going to be an interesting task for the young thief but if he could pull it off she may have found herself an apprentice.

That’s it for tonight, short and sweet but enough to really add a bit more depth and mystery into our adventure. Having versatile twists sure does make reusing them easier but identifying the cause or key element of even non generic twists can help to diversify your portfolio of ad-hoc, or impromptu twists that can help mix up your adventure if things derail slightly.

Tomorrow is maps, so if there is a certain map you like from a previous week then you know the drill, let me know which week and which map (D10 +D6) or the slug (09ThMa1 for example) and I’ll add it in, easy as that.

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,

The Brazen Wolfe

A gnome, A dwarf and a thief walk into a tavern…

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Tuesday is here and that means it’s NPC day!

True to my word I have 4 NPCs currently (rolled a D10 and D6 each time) and have this far had chance choose 03TuRLH – Rose Longhammer, 05TuBaHe Baxter Henderson and rolling two 10s I have to write two new NPCs tonight…

The tools today are as always Artbreeder but also re-using Fantasy-Faces for the free images there.

So without much more flaff and waffle let’s get into it and walk up to that Dwarf at the bar.

Brinker Fuzzwallop

10TuBiFu

Clank clank clank, the jarring noise of metal striking metal resonates from the darkness of the short corridor in front of them. ‘I’m surprised that this,’ Zander paused for a moment trying to remember the name of the innkeeper, and failing, ‘err.. Wandering Tavern has a cellar. It has arcane magic literally infused everywhere, have you noticed how the walls periodically pulse with a green glow? I think that’s the tavern itself drawing from the weave. It’s a wonder’.

‘Is that you Mer? I need more time, the resonance is playing up with my tools and I am not able to get a lock on where we are. I again suggest going outside and finding out instead of asking me. Now with all respect I can muster for you, pike off” A almost comical high pitched voice trilled from somewhere near the back of the wall.

Mike put his hand on the hilt, having had quite enough of mysterious people in basements, temples or dungeons he wanted to be prepared to draw his magical blade if the time called for it. Dusk on the other hand could not care less, he had already managed to talk a second free tankard of ale (good stuff by his standards) from Mer. Pushing forward from the rest of the party he wiped a bit of froth from his beard ‘Aye, who be you talking to matey, that’s no way to speak to the heroes of Sparrows Rest’

A moment later, muttering some expletives in gnomish a 3 foot tall bald gnome with a dishevelled grey beard stormed around the corner bumping into Ray who had taken up position next to Dusk. ‘I thought I told you to.. oh.. You’re not Mer..’ the gnome stutters slightly looking at the imposing figure of Ray, Dusk, Mike and Zander. ‘Sorry lords, sorry, I didn’t realise it was visitors. Tea! you must have some tea!’ the now flustered gnome stuttered out having realised that he had been cussing someone other than his impatient, lazy boss.

Being shown to a small table, and it would be small for a gnome let alone two humans, a half elf, and a dwarf. Several moments past as the gnome introduced himself. ‘ The names Brinker, Brinker Fuzzwallop – you can call me Brink if you’d like. I’ve been working here for Mer for a good three years yet and I am not any closer to understanding how this Tavern does what it does. Only that it appears to be sentient, knows what it wants and knows exactly what it is doing. It sounds crazy but my instruments,’ the gnome, currently fussing over a tea pot that would make barely enough for a few mouthfuls, points haphazardly over to his right, against the wall where two large gemstones glowed with green light and a bunch of arcane, or at least artificers tools littered the floor around it, ‘all tell me that it’s sentient.’

Zander, noticing the patterns on the panel where the gens are embedded noted that there appeared to be a recession where the veins of light stretched too but didn’t quite reach’

As the party are offered some tea with rather potent floral notes. Zander raises his finger and gestures to the dark spot ‘It looks like you’re missing a conduit’ he says as he swallows the contents of his entire tiny tea cup in a single gulp.

Brink turns around and follows Zanders finger before hastily placing the other teacups in front of the others, almost flying to the panel ‘no, no, no… This isn’t right – there needs to be.. where is Timmy!’ With that Brink runs up the stairs ‘I must tell Mer that we have been robbed. Timmy is missing!’

Mellany Whitfan

10TuMeWh

Rose Longhammer

03TuRLH/10TuRLH

As Dusk snuck up from the cellar to grab himself another tankard of ale he went up to the same bar he got his first, and second tankard from. Sitting in between two patrons already he made himself comfortable on the stool and looked over at the people around him.

On his left sat a human girl with extraordinary white flowing hair, her skin was unsettlingly pale, at least to him, and she seemed to have quite a few tankards of ale in front of her, most of them untouched.

‘Hey you, half-man, that was my spot ay, you best be shoving off.’ Dusk turned around to look at a man who was remarkably handsome, except for the look in his eyes.

‘Be careful of this one Dusk, he has the scent of death upon him’ A cold woman’s voice, like the caw of a raven seemed to move down his spine like a cold shiver.

‘Laddie, I have travelled long and hard and just need a few moments to rest and have an ale. Why don’t you grab an ale and do the same eh?’ Dusk said, reaching for a ale in front of him, his trained nose instantly telling him it had been tampered with. The pale woman looked up at him alarmed and went to say something but a wink and sideways glance from Dusk silenced her.

‘Ere’s one, on me lad.’ he said as he passed the drink to the man and turned around.

‘I don’t want yer ale old man – I was busy being acquainted with the ladies here’ the mans voice snuck in like a serpent as Dusk felt the still cold ale poor down his neck.

The woman to his right, Dusk noting a red haired dwarf woman who had been silently staring at a tankard of ale until now, stood up ‘Now you can’t be doing that, I’m going to have to ask ye to leave now and take your friends’ she said, squeezing Dusks arm to warn him of the odds being stacked against the old dwarf in this instance.

Smoke rose from his breastplate, enchanted to tell him when there was malcontent directed towards him in the local vicinity. The room went quiet as the sound of four chairs could be heard as they scraped across the wooden floorboards.

Dusk laughed. ‘Now,’ his voice grumbled like granite tumbling down a cliff edge, ‘that’s no way to treat yer elders’ as Dusk slowly stood his hand gripped the haft of his axe, the metal on the broad head of the axe shifting, splitting apart as fame flickered to life within revealing a snarling demon that had been carved into the head of the battle axe, ‘My Lady bitch, I’ll be needing your help on this one’ he said turning around – his other hand gripping the emblem of the Raven queen.

As he turned, a bottle came crashing down, aimed for his head, it shattered above his head as golden raven feathers seemed to manifest above him, the remaining liquid within hissing as it evaporated on his divine shield. ‘You lads will wish you hadn’t been tinkering with dark magic now ay. You see’, crunch, Dusk stepped forward splintering a floor board as his divine presence flowed from his emblem causing a visible energy to spread across his frame, causing the axe’s flames to flicker with black magic (a parlour trick for those clerics who know how), ‘my lady told me you had the stench of rot upon ye soul. I can see it now’, he pointed with the axe the very movement of the blade through the air around him sounding like a raven cawing.

One of the ‘friends’ of the man lunged at him, out of bravery or fear only he knew, the blade he had drawn from his coat hitting the same golden barrier, the scrape of metal on magic sounding like a raven mockingly calling out as it sent another few golden feathers of energy floating to the ground. The man realising his folly shrieked and stumbled backwards, hitting a wall of muscle and metal. ‘You’re lucky that my friends are here or you would be meeting my lady soon’ Dusk stated as he placed the head of his axe on the ground, having slowly walked the men into the wall of muscle that Mike and Raynor bodies created.

‘Dusk, what’s going on here. These boys causing trouble?’ Ray said, rolling a shoulder as the five men turned to look up at the two paladins.

‘Aye, the middle one’, Dusk nodded towards the man who started it all, ‘been dabbling in necromancy or so my lady says. She never wrong in this regard, the bitch’ Dusk said, spitting at the floor beneath his feet.

Mike’s face turned into a snarl of rage. ‘You had to say the N word didn’t you..’ Ray said, sighing as a Mikes mailed fist connected with the mans forehead, the limp body tumbling to the ground.

‘Easy now boys, let me deal with it’ Zandar said, floating above the paladins, his hands extended as electricity pulsed between them. An bolt of lightning passed between his hands, arcing out and passing through the heads of the remaining four men. All of them convulsed for a moment before falling to the ground, unconscious or paralysed the party cared not. Landing on the ground Zander dusted his hands, realising that the ground he was on was in fact the first man that Mike took out.

Hopping down he went to stand next to Dusk as Raynor and Mike walked the men outside, rope coming out to bind the hands and arms of the men until they decided what to do with them.

‘We figured when the noise stopped you were causing trouble, not too far from being right were we Dusk hmm?’ Zander said, clasping the old dwarf on the shoulder – his divine magic seeping into the talisman he still clasped in his hand. After a few tense heart beats the occupants of the tavern released a collective breath they had been holding and conversation and song began again.

‘I guess I should be thankful sir Dusk’, a quiet, tentative voice sang from behind him, ‘ that man and his friends had been trying to ply me with drinks for the past few days. Mer didn’t want to do anything with them since they were paying customers and all’ the white haired woman said, having turned around. ‘I am Mel and this is Rose, we had come to Lothgar looking for help before the Tavern went crazy and we ended up here. We are originally from Sparrows Rest, Rose has lost her kid you see and…’

‘Enough Mel, let’s not burden the travellers, as capable as they are, with our little villages problems. Come sit, let us buy you a round’ Rose, the red haired dwarf spoke dragging over a few chairs. ‘Mer is an ol’ friend of mine – we were rivals for a bit there when his tavern accidently ended up in sparrows rest for a few weeks there. So what brings you to this cursed tavern?’

Baxter Henderson

05TuBaHe / 10TuBaHe

As the dwarf, half-elf and two humans sat down Baxter kept his head down and moved the chicken around the white sauce and potatoes on his plate. He didn’t know what he had been thinking, being here was a bad idea, moving from Sebluff to Lothgar had also been a bad idea. He sighed, he barely had enough money for his room and the chicken in front of him. He needed to get back to Lothgar and pay his debts so he could his life anew.

Bax had never been good with staying clean and taking up this last job had really caused him to slip further. ‘One last job’, ‘quick in and out’, ‘don’t worry – you will be gone before they realise’. He scoffed loudly, Mr Pondt, the father of crime in Lothgar had been wrong. Oh god his side was soo itchy, he scratched it as nonchalantly as he could but the clear crystal in his pocked was starting to send sparks of energy into his side, and his jacket occasionally sparked. It was getting out of hand but if he could get this stone back to Mr P. then he was good, his debts paid and then some.

Then he could stop once and for all and make something out of his life. Maybe then Sebluff would see him for what he truly is, how Sarah had seen him.

Well that’s it for today, thanks for joining in.

Now tomorrow is Twist day and as I am all week if you particularly like a twist or shakeup from a previous week let me know in a comment either call it out or the Tag/Slug (07WeCo for example) or roll the dice, d10, d6 and let me know and I will include it in the selection!

I think I have written enough for tonight, hope you enjoyed the return of Mike, Ray, Dusk and Zandar. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow to look at how we can shake it up, and how I will do that (it may be a bit difficult but I will work on it..) and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe